Break the Ice

Chapter Five

T A R Y N

I feel like I'm going in and out of consciousness.

I've been sitting in my car for the past 30 minutes and it feels like I'm in some sort of time warp. I can't wrap my head around what had happened during my skating session. I just remember the immense fear I felt as I was falling onto the ice.

I saw flashes of memories when I first fell during my performance at Nationals, the long recover I had faced, and the heart wrenching feeling of not being able to skate.

I was terrified.

After my accident I fell into a depression, I refused to do anything to the point where my mother would have to drag me out of my bed to sit in the bath tub for her to bath me. The idea of not being able to skate made me feel like I had no purpose. Skating is like breathing and without it, well, I would die.

It was all laid out in front of me as a reminder because that stupid, hockey playing jerk almost killed me.

I inhale a sharp breath to try and calm myself. I needed to think rationally. I could see it wasn't his intention to interrupt my private skating session or for the hockey puck to come flying toward me. Although it's definitely easier to blame him and allow my frustration to be pin pointed to his actions.

But that's an itch in the back of the mind focuses on how he should have just known. He should have known that us sharing the ice was already pushing it. He should have been more careful, more aware of his surroundings. He was so careless.

That could have gone so much worst and I would be the one suffering from it. The only damage he would have done is being the one who hit the puck. If my ankle had twisted a little more, it could be broken. If I had fallen on a different angle, I wouldn't have had my butt to shield my fall.

All the 'what if's' dance in my mind and make my heart rate pick up. My shaky hands cup my stomach when it starts churning and a sour taste fills my mouth. Ugh stupid nerves.

I quickly open my car down and lean over just in time before the remnants of this mornings breakfast are emptied onto the concrete of the parking lot.

—-

"And then I ended up puking in the parking lot from all the stress." I finalize as I sit across from Alia, who's sprawled out across my bed listening to my retelling of this mornings antics.

"First off, ew puke." She shudders at the words. Which is funny to me because usually after a long night out she's always head first in a toilet. "Secondly, I'm so sorry that you went through that Tar. I know how hard it was for you the first time, I can't imagine how it felt to relive it in a span of a few seconds when your were falling today."

I nod along with her words, "Yeah it could have been avoided if that guy never interrupted, ugh." I run my hands over my face visibly agitated at the thought of him.

"Are you really quitting skating though?"

It's an important question after I told her how I announced to the empty arena that I was done with skating after I got knocked onto the ice.

"No I'm not quitting skating," I huff. "I think I'm just done trying to compete. I don't think I can begin to imagine my life without being on the ice but let's face it I'm not making progress and honestly the idea of performing at Nationals again scares the daylights out of me."