Broken Ice

Chapter 9: Watching

We had created a new ritual where every 2 days, when Michael came to drop off Fran at the rink, we would go out and eat at the eateries by the recreation centre. It was nice being with someone who understood. We both lost something that formed every corner of our being, and we didn't have to hide it.

Today was like any other. We said bye to Fran and took a turn around the block, heading to our spot in Central Park. Somehow, I felt a warm fuzziness overtake me at the thought of us have a 'our spot' but I ignored it.

"Next time, though," He said in between bites of his shawarma, "We're going to see Superman."

"Good luck finding a place where it's playing."

A slight flush of pink tinged his cheeks, although it could have been from the cold. The temperatures were low enough to cause the puffs of our breath to show in the air and ensure that everyone was decked out in coats and scarves. "I was actually thinking you could come with me to a party."

Instantly, I felt excitement drain out of my body. I could admit I was beginning to care about Michael, but not enough to go to another party thrown by Reggie if I could avoid it. I only went with Quinn because she was my best friend, the first girl to extend a hand to me when I first came here as a scared little 14-year-old.

"Michael, I can't–"

He cut me off, "It's held by my parents. They're opening a Thomas & Thomas Law branch in China and are making it a big thing. Overall, it's going to be terrible, but I was thinking it'd be a little better if I had a friend there."

A friend. We were friends. An uncontrollable smile that parted my lips. "Why not."

"Great. Don't worry, we can sneak off and watch movies on my phone."

I nod, "But what is the dress code? I don't own much else other than my uniform, some going-out clothes, and my...skating costumes." My voice grew quieter as my mind wandered to memories of just over a year ago when I was wearing them on the ice.

As if sensing my distress, he hurriedly adds, "My cousin, Maeve, has some dresses. I'll take you to see her on Friday?"

"Yeah, that works for me."

"Alright." He looked at his phone, "It's already 7:50, we should head back."

_______

I waved off Fran and Michael and began packing up. "I'm going ahead." Aunt Clara announced, and I said goodbye.

Once I ensured she was gone, I slid open the rink door and flicked on the lights before putting on my skates.

Stepping on the ice, I tried to push away my fears. Today is a new day, and I won't fall today. Gliding on the ice, I tried to repeat one of my routines from the days when I was still a beginner.

I could still hear the music flow around me years later, the classical composition wrapping around me to guide my slow and careful movements.

I slowly did one final, simple turn and stopped, panting. Why can't I do anything but this? How was I meant to win competitions when all I could do without crumbling under the fear of further injury was such an elementary routine?

Suddenly, I heard clapping and whipped my head over. Michael. I flushed in embarrassment. "What are you doing here? We're closed." I skated to the entrance and took off my skates.

"Fran forgot her toy." He held up a small plushie. "You're amazing. No wonder you were scouted for the North American team."

I furrowed my brows, "How'd you hear that?"

"Quinn isn't exactly tight-lipped about complimenting her friends."

A grim smile graces my face and I scoff, "Well, I'm not so amazing anymore." I clench my fists.

"You are, though. It's better than most could do."

I yank the tight skates off my feet and throw them down. "Most don't skate, Michael." My voice tightens to hold back the tears I wanted to shed once he left.

He sat down beside me, looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. "I'm sorry," I said.

"No, I get it. It hurts."

"I was talented. Maybe it's self-centered to say, but I was. One of the best teams in the world wanted me, but all because of one little fall," I hold my head in my hands, letting out a shaky breath. "I ruined it all. Years of work."

After a pause, he said, "Who says it's over?"

"My parents, the second my aunt told them about my injury, and they promptly removed me from the team. Not to mention my coach pushing for it."

"But that's just a roadblock. It's not over yet."

"Michael, it is, and it just hurts more to pretend like it isn't."

He sighed before jutting up. "I'm gonna to show you that it's not, mark my words, Kent." He got up and left, the door clicking closed behind them.

I tried to stop it, but a seed of hope was slowly growing inside me.

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