HIS FROST BITE (A MICHAL MRÁZIK FAN FICTION)

Chapter 4: Park Damsel

Michal

Entering the rink, the familiar scent of cold air and freshly cut ice enveloped me. The sound of skates scraping against the surface and the echoing voices of teammates filled the air. It was a symphony of passion and determination. Just what i needed today. I woke up early and found myself throwing pucks over the ice with Dean, Ethan and Scott. We had divided into groups of two and today Dean and Ethan were eating my ass, but we won the second round. —the perfect antidote to the restlessness that had taken hold of me last night. Dean and Ethan were relentless, but we managed to claim victory in the second round.

"I told you Stassie had you in a chokehold, you can't even focus on the ice," Scott teased, his breath visible in the cold as he skated toward me.

"Like Dana doesn't have you whipped, you can't even pick out a T-shirt without her approval," Dean retorted, and we all erupted into laughter. "Right, Scott? Did she also decree that you guys wear pink on Wednesdays?" I chimed in, nudging the conversation along with a playful grin.

Scott rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Ha, ha. Very funny. She still loves that movie, but I've put my foot down—we don't watch it nearly as much anymore," he said as we glided off the ice and into the washrooms.

"I've told you boys, being single in university is the way to go," Dean proclaimed, only to be interrupted by Ethan's jab, "You mean changing women like underwear is the way to go."

Dean just winked. "All of the above," he said, and we burst into another round of laughter. Scott, however, started packing his bag with a quiet urgency.

"I'm taking a shower at home. I've got to meet Dana," he said, leaving with Ethan, who probably offered him a lift.

I lingered in the shower; there was no rush. Stassie had texted me earlier, asking to meet for lunch downtown, but I'd told her I had hockey. It wasn't a lie, but after our last argument, I needed space before I risked saying something I'd regret. Drying off, I grabbed my bag and walked out with Dean, who I hadn't seen in a week. Spending the day with him felt like the ideal distraction.

"You're not going to bail on me tonight for Ms. Duncan, are you?" Dean asked as we headed for the exit.

"I think a couple of beers wouldn't hurt," I replied, my mind already drifting to our usual hangout, The Hills Tavern, just two streets away.As we reached the parking lot, a tall, broad figure waved at me. My insides clenched at the sight of him.

Talk about his physical appearance. How they're are similar but unlike him had wrinkles somewhere on his face. 

"Hi, dad," I mumbled, but loud to be heard.

"You're still not fast enough," he called out immediately. No question about when I left the house or if I slept well or had any breakfast. What a shocker.

"We were just playing for fun. It's the holidays," I replied, trying to keep the mood light.

"That Urkel boy was playing for fun but ran twice as fast as you've ever run in any of your matches, damn it!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the parking lot. I looked down at my shoes, knowing he was right. Scott was fast, and I knew I could match him, but today was different. We were just having fun, but my father never understood that concept—nothing was ever easy with him; he was never satisfied.

"I push you because I want you to be good enough. I want you to go pro like I did. In my day, boys our age listened to their elders," he continued, but I could feel my patience wearing thin. My father had always pushed the professional hockey dream on me, seemingly forgetting that accounting was my first love.

"Are you even listening to me?" he demanded, snapping me back to the present.

I looked up, ready to respond, but Mr. Hughes approached us with a smile that could light up the darkest winter day. I didn't have the energy to match his enthusiasm, so I headed for my jeep, leaving him to chat with my father. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I caught a glimpse of my father's rare, genuine smile—reserved for everyone but me. Dean was probably already at The Hills, halfway through his first beer.

Driving to the Tavern, I realized Stassie's bag was still in my car. Right on cue, my phone rang—it was her, asking about the bag that matched her outfit perfectly. I confessed I was heading for the Tavern with Dean, not eager to have a rerun of our argument, last night.

"So, is this how things will be now? I lie to you, and you lie back to me?" she asked, her voice tinged with hurt.

"Just last night you were the one who did not want any confrontation,"-"Yes, Michal. Confrontation about changing my degree. I told you, I just didn't want to feel like I was doing it for you, I was doing it for me," when she said that I felt defeated.  Not because she had just finally told me why she changed her degree but because I had never made it my mission to dictate to her what to do with her life. I would never do that to her or anyone, especially because I knew how it felt like to have someone do that to you.

"I hate arguing," I said and heard a loud sigh from her side.

"Me too," she said softly, she hung up and I arrived to the Tavern. Dean was never one to shy away from strangers, I found him with a group of men, probably in their mid 40s leading the conversation. Whatever he said left the men to erupt into a chorus of laughter. He had a pair of orange sunglasses on his head, pulling dark hair back. When he saw me he said something to the men and came my way.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said and I shrugged.

"And the ghost came with a purse," he added once he spotted Stassie's bag.

"No, Stassie is on her way here for this," when I said that he rolled his eyes and we found seats at a corner.

"The Duncan girl always had her,"-"I hope you're not going to insult her," I cut him off and he nodded but his eyes were suddenly looking at something from across the room. Stassie stood at the doorway wearing a short white dress and matching platform heels. She had gotten a new haircut that framed her face nicely. I walked towards her and she pulled me into a hug. She was still the beautiful girl I met in high school after I had just moved to New Falls, she still had that tiny figure I liked and was still the smart girl I met back then when we would skip class and go to the movies together but being around her did not feel the same lately.

"I cannot wait to do this vlog, I should have asked Nitra and Tara to come along with me,"she said as we headed into the parking lot.

"Why didn't you?"

"I just dropped Tara home and Nitra did not want anything to do with me today, said she wants to spend some virtual time with Nick," she said as we stopped before her car.

"Bye, I'll call you after my vlog date with Mandy later," she kissed me on the cheek and drove off. Something in me suddenly felt like going back home to rest, but I did not want to have to be coerced into staying for beers so I drove off without talking to Dean about it. He was going to rip my head off for this. I chuckled at the thought and made my way home. Mother was probably reading what she called a good book by the deck, on her swinging chair.

As soon as I made my way  around New Fall park I was suddenly drawn to the red head sitting on one of the benches, not because her hair colour was loud but because I recognized that head of hair, it was Tara. I pulled over and drew down my window , maybe she needed a ride but she saw me before I saw her. At first I thought it was probably because the sun was bright and it caused the sparkle on her face but I realised she had been crying.