Not All Ice Melts

2 - Jump To The Point

Aria's pov:

"Come on, Aria, stop being lazy with your jumps and turns." My skating coach, Antonio Riccio, calls. The truth is, I have terrible morning sickness and the jumps and spins, are not helping at all!
"You haven't got the rhythm right, Aria!" He shouts.

He beckons me over, with a way of his arm. "You, Signora (Translation from Italian to English: Lady or young lady) need to focus more!"

To be honest, I really don't care about this right now, I am so tired that it's a miracle that I am still standing. "Please, Antonio, I can't do this today. I am sick. Do I have to?"

He mumbles something under his breath, before turning his face back, to look at me. "Si Signora." (Translation: Yes, lady) when I see his face change, from annoyance to worry, I see that this is his first time today getting a good look at me. "Oh dear, you don't look well."

I run my hands down my face, feeling completely drained, so much that I have to sit down on the fold up seats that surround the rink. "Sorry." I breathe.

Antonio comes and sits down next to me. "Are you alright, Aria?"

I shake my head. "No, I am not." I lose control of my sobs. Antonio has been my skating teacher since I was six, he has been there, by my side throughout that whole time. He is basically like a father figure to me.
I remember, when my parents would buy drugs and shit for their parties, I would wait for mom or dad to get out their wallet, to pay the dealer with cash, and when the wallet was out and mom or dad is busy with the dealer, I would take just the right amount of money so that I could afford my classes with him.

"Non hai un bell'aspetto, Signora." (Translation: You don't look very well, lady.)

"I'm fine, Antonio, just got a small cold." I smile, trying to play down my symptoms so he doesn't get suspicious.

"Se sei sicuro." (Translation: If you are sure.) He says.

I skate back over to the centre of the rink. I haven't ever felt this lethargic in my life. I guess it makes sense, being as I've never been in this situation before.

"iniziare dall'inizio." (Translation: start from the beginning.) Calls Antonio.

—

After practice, I change from my skates and ice outfit, and into something less... 'I just came from preforming Disney On Ice'.

Walking out the changing rooms, I run into the ice hockey team.

"Aria!" I hear my name being called. "Wait!"

I turn around, and see Harry Moore. "Harry, what do you want?"

He looks at me like I am desirable. "Look, about what happened."

I cut him off. "No, it's fine, I understand, it was a one night thing and you never want to even think about it again." I completely ignore Harry when he calls after me.

—

When I arrive back at my dorm, I rush into the en-suite, puking my guts up. I really don't think doing those spins on the ice, are making the nausea any better than it already is.

After vomiting up my intestines, I lay on my bed, taking a nap.

—

I am awoken by a knocking sound that comes from my dorm room door.

I lazily took off all my clothing apart from my bra and shorts, before heading to sleep, so I hope it's no one embarrassing.

"What do you want?" I groan as I open the door, only to be met with the same handsome face that got me in to this mess. "Harry?"

He softly, yet still sharply, smiles at me, causing butterflies to flutter around in my belly.
"Aria," he now becomes serious, "did I do something to offend you?"

I roll my eyes at his audacity - to be fair I have to right to be livid with him, I mean it takes two to tango. "Harry, go away." I gag again. "Shit-"

I rush to the bathroom and throw up all over again.

"Shit, are you alright?" Harry's voice comes from behind me. I didn't even notice he'd followed me inside my dorm. "Do you want some water?" He comes and rubs my back.

"You know it's rude to not only enter someone's living space without permission, and even worse to follow someone into their bathroom." I groan, wiping my mouth and flushing the chain, then walking to the sink and washing my mouth.

"Seriously, Aria, are you alright?" He completely dodges my words. "You don't look well."

I grab his hand and walk, with him, out the bathroom, sitting us both on the bed. "Do you remember that night?"

"The night we had sex?" He says it, straight forward.

Swallowing to try and calm the burning in my throat from the sickness, I say, "yeah, well, we may have problem."

He quirks his eyebrows, in complete confusion. "What do you mean?"

I breathe. "You're the only person I've ever slept with."

"...okay?"

I Inhale, then I exhale. "I'm pregnant."