Chapter 1 - Skating (Harper)

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"HARPER WEST IF YOU DON'T-" I cringe and bring the phone away from my ear. Of course the first thing my dad does is yell at me. No 'hello.' Or, 'how are you?'. Just yelling.

I turn down the volume and bring the phone back to my ear. "Harper? Hello? Harper! You'd better answer the phone when I call you. Do you understand me?" I sigh. "Yeah dad. I'm sorry, coach held me back for some conditioning. It won't happen again. Promise." I pause waiting to hear.

"Get home right now. You have chores to do. If you don't answer your phone again, I'll beat you raw. Understood?" I suck in a sharp breath and lower my head. "Yes sir. I'll be home shortly."

I end the call and I bring my fingers to my eyelids, pushing against them and willing away the tears. Im so distracted I don't notice that the men's class has started.

Im about to give up on trying to not start sobbing when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and almost run into a 6'3, black headed wall of muscle.

I look up at a pair of annoyed, grey eyes. "You're in my way." He says. "You're like, 5 feet tall. You're so tiny you'll get run over. So move."

"Good to see you too, Moore. Nice to know you care about my well-being." He scoffs. "As if. If you're standing here looking all pitiful, I can't do my routine. Get off the ice."

I look up at him and say through narrowed eyes and gritted teeth, "Make. Me." He smirks and I almost immediately regret my choice of words.

In the next second I'm thrown over his shoulder, limp as he skates off with me. "Hey! Noah! Put me down!"

"I'm not putting you down. You have an attitude, and I don't appreciate that. Especially when I'm trying to practice. You literally asked for it, by the way. That whole, 'Make me' crap doesn't work with me."

When he comes to an abrupt stop his shoulder digs in on a bruise. "Ow!" I try to adjust my weight when he sets me down, his shoulder going across it. I grab my sternum and put one hand on my knee, breathing heavily.

He gives me a weird look and says, "cmon, I'm not that bony. Give me some credit here, heart."

I look up at him through heaving breaths, "my name is Harper, not Hart. You have no right to call me that."

"Not h-a-r-t. H-e-a-r-t. Heart. Because you lack yours."

I stand up to my whole 5'3 frame and rise to the tips of my skates. "The day I let you see what's in my heart, is the day we're both in hell. I have places to be, so goodbye Noah. Break a leg. Please."

He smirks at me and says, "Always a pleasure, West. See you around." At that, he skates away and joins the rest of his class.

I shake my head in disbelief. I stand there for a moment just watching him. I gasp as I remember that I'm supposed to be home. I take off my skates, not bothering about the uniform.

I run to my car bare foot, a tan Toyota Camry. I throw the car in gear and pray that it hasn't been as long as it feels. I'm racing home when I get a text from an unknown number.

I don't bother looking at it as I turn onto my street and pull in the driveway. I run up to the door, calm my breathing and walk inside. "Dad?" I yell.

"Harper." He says in a gruff tone. Daniel West has never been a kind man, but I recognize that tone, and my hands start to shake.

"You're late Hart." He says as he walk towards me.

I tremble as I say, "yes sir. M-my coach needed a word with me. I tried to tell her I had to leave, but she was insistent."

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