I popped my head into the different, seemingly never-ending hallways. Finally, I found Michael in a hallway with flickering lights. The power of the light classical music from the main hall flowed out to reach even this secluded location. "Michael?" He looked up at me with tired eyes, but still managed to give me a rueful smile.
"Sorry. This was supposed to be a semi-fun night." I came to sit down next to him, pulling my knees to my chest. "We didn't even dance."
"I don't like dancing anyway."
"You're literally a figure skater." He laughed.
"Ahh, but figure skating doesn't always mean dancing." I wagged my finger, "And anyways, I'm just happy to not be called the help anymore." I laughed.
He looked down in remembrance. "I'm sorry about them. I wish I could say they're better when you get to know them but..." He trailed off before jerking his head up. "The food! I can't believe I forgot the food. We're going to starve, and it's all my fault."
"Would you be mildly disgusted if I said I stole a gallon of shrimp and stuffed it in my dress pockets?"
"Would you be disgusted if I told you I love you?"
I smiled, "Not at all." I pulled out the little baggie of shrimp and Michael pulled up Superman on his phone.
"This again?"
"I'm not resting until you know Clarke Kent." In between bites of shrimp, he said, "Maeve going to kill you for making her dress smell like shrimp forever."
"Not if she doesn't know." I leaned my head against his shoulder, and there was no place I'd rather be.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Ice
Teen FictionGianna Clarke had never felt more trapped. Stuck in the city of dreams with no chance at her dream, she spends every day working in her aunt's ice rink, trying to forget about her career-ending injury. However, a chance encounter with her school's...
