Practice makes perfect, and when you're fighting to be the best in your sport that is especially true. Ryder and Francesca are no exception. They are dedicated to their sport and refuse to let anything distracted. But when a scheduling conflict forc...
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"Too tired... can't go on," Francesca says dramatically as she rolls around in the snow at the bottom of the hill.
"Alright butt, I get it," I laugh reaching for her hand so I can pull her up.
She lets me but then falls dramatically onto me like dead weight. I don't even argue with her as I adjust the two sleds in one arm then grab her by the waist with the other and carry her like a suitcase.
She hangs limp the entire walk to the car but I can hear her trying to hide her giggling. When I set her down right next to the car, she quickly pulls on the locked car door frantically.
"So cold, so cold Ry!"
I unlock the car so she can get in, then lock it and use the remote start to turn it on while I walk to the trunk to put the sleds away.
When I finally get into the car Francesca has kicked her snow boots off and has curled into a small little ball, shaking like a leaf. The snow soaked through my jacket and snow pants a while ago and I bet it soaked through hers as well. She tries to give me a smile but her teeth are chattering.
"Here," I shove my emergency gym bag toward her, "I swear it's all clean."
She hesitantly opens the bag and surveys the sweatpants, t-shirt, and sweater.
"I'm ok," she chatters, "you take them."
"I grew up here, I can handle a bit of cold Beck. Besides I have a sweater in my trunk and probably a pair of sweats. You change in the car real quick and I will go check."
"You sure?" She asks, looking at me with concern. Her nose is bright red in the cutest damn way and her cheeks also are pink from the cold. She ripped her wet hat off her head already so her hair is wild and sticking up in every direction but to me she is still painfully gorgeous.
"Absolutely, bang on the back window when you're ready."
Without waiting for her further protests I hop back out of the car. I can see her still hesitantly holding my stuff as I open the trunk and search around for a change of clothes. I find a t-shirt balled up and some sweatpants which are questionably clean but the cold is starting to get to me too, so I rip off my layers and change outside in the snow covered parking lot. When I am done I ball my wet stuff up and throw it into a pile before grabbing my hockey Leatherman which has also been sitting in my trunk a questionable amount of time.
When Francesca finally knocks on the window I shut the trunk and get back in the car again. When I look over at her again I think time completely freezes.
She has put her warm fluffy boots on again and my sweatpants are so big on her I am certain that both her legs could fit in one pant leg. She is wearing my sweater with the hood up and pulled tightly around her face so just her nose and eyes stick out, her hands are pulled inside the sleeves which she's balled up around her fingers for a little bit more warmth.
