Take Your Tears, Put 'Em On Ice

~ E-I-G-H-T ~ {II}

~ Monday; 1st of June 2020 ~

~ P-A-T-R-I-C-K ~

I shifted my feet uncomfortably as the cheaply made and rented skates dug into my flesh. They didn't have my required size, so I went a size larger. The extra space made me very vulnerable to the ground and loosing balance. I was too broke to buy a pair of new skates, and I absolutely refused any help from anyone, including Aaron and Melanie.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, I took off across the ice. Wrong skates or not, I am going to perfect the One-Footed Edge Jump. When I told Aaron this a few weekes ago, he looked at me like I was insane. 'Patrick, but you aren't one for extreme sports,' he said. 'Don't get frustrated and shallow if you can't even get the turn.'

So then I felt mad at him for not supporting me. I didn't let him know that, I just nodded and went to the rink. So here I am, two weeks and two days after telling him my goals.

The rink wasn't empty, which was a little bit frustrating after being spoiled in Chicago during the school days, but it's not like I could chase everyone out. I'm currently in the back left side of the rink alone.

Thoughts aside, I focused on just myself and the ice beneath me. I got up to a good speed and leaned down, letting my fingers lightly brush the ice as I turned sharply. I waited for the moment where it felt like the ice was pushing against me before launching myself upwards. I thought I had it, until when I jumped, my feet slid forward and I lost balance, falling against the ice on my stomach and looking like a fool.

Letting out a louder, angered sigh, I got back onto my feet and slid back into the corner. I leaned against the wall, watching the other skaters in attempt to calm myself down. It usually works.

"You seem to be having some trouble," a more Canadian female voice said from beside me. I jumped and looked over, noticing my new company.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Trying to do the hard in the wrong sized skates is near impossible."

"The rink's skates are never good anyways, in size or not. Custom made figure skates are the way to go," she lifted a foot and showed me her black skates with well worn laces.

"I used to have a pair, they got pretty torn up," I winced a little at the memory.

"Patrick, hand them over." Aunt Jenn demanded.

"No, they're all I have left." I whimpered, sitting on my bare bed, clutching them tightly.

"You can't take them on the plane. Your bag is out of room, and in such short time those blades will not be allowed through the gates!" Aunt Jenn stepped closer. I clutched them tighter. "Hand them over."

"Will you take good care of them, and mail them to me?" I whispered refusing to meet her gaze.

"Sure," she snapped and yanked them from my shaky hands. She marched down the stairs, slamming my door behind her.

It quiet for a while, and then I heard a car door close. I slipped out of my room and down the hall, looking out the window at the front of the house. Just as my eyes focused, Aunt Jenn ran over my skates with her stupid maroon SUV.

I let out a scream and ran down the stairs and out the door, but the skates were already broken and covered in black marks. One of the blades was stripped free and part of one was torn halfway down the seam.

That was the day before I left Chicago.

"Oh? What happened?" The girl tilted her head.

"Lost them last time I moved," I shrugged. I turned my head again to get a better image of her face. She was on the paler side with dark brown hair, and green-hazel eyes. Freckles just lightly ran across her cheeks and nose, which were red from the cold. Her fringe hung over her left eye just barely, but having a short cut on the right side of her head. She was shorter and noticeably younger, maybe sixteen. There was a silver ring on the right of her bottom lip.

"Say," I shifted my stance, relaxing a bit. She turned to me, eyes wide and curious. "Why did you come over here? I'm obviously struggling, but we don't know one another."

She smiled. "Because you looked like you needed someone to talk to, get your mind off of your continuous incidents. Also because I haven't been on the ice in over a year and these walls are nice," she ran her hand over the railing.

I laughed lightly. "Ah, I know the feeling." I stuck out a hand, offering to shake. "The name is Patrick."

She took it with another smile. "Charlie."

"You here alone?" She raised an eyebrow. "Not trying to be a creep," I rushed out. "It's just not common for a solo skater."

"Says the independent man," she smirked. "No, I'm actually here with my gir-bo-best friend," she stuttered over her words, blushing badly.

I read her face for a moment. "That tumble of your tongue, are you alright?"

"Yes," she answered way too quickly. She sighed. "Yes, I am. But Darian, I don't know what our relationship is, or where it's headed, or even which way I swing." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I love them dearly, but I don't know how. We're actually in Manchester for two weeks. We're traveling the world."

"Exciting!" I grinned. "And I am sorry for your confusion, and I hope things get answers soon. Just don't hang on too long, or let go too soon."

She blinked a few times. In her pause of silence, another skater came over, wrapping their arms around Charlie's waist. Their hair was short around the side and back, longer up top and up front. It was a darker, musky brown. Their eyes were a bright blue and they were a few inches taller than my new-found friend.

"Hi Darian," Charlie turned her head, looking at the face on her shoulder. "Darian, this is Patrick."

"Hi," Darian's voice was quiet and soft, but friendly. "Char, I'm hungry."

"Wanna go try that Vegan friendly café we passed?"

"Caffeine Cold?" I butt in. Both of them looked at me and nodded. "It's the best café in all of Europe. If you're going vegan, I recommend the Blueberry Blitz pastry."

"Thank you," Charlie smiled. "Let's go." Darian nodded and began towards the gate. I grabbed Charlie's wrist before she could follow.

"Don't waste your chances," I winked before letting go.

She smiled, a soft blush appearing on her cheeks. "Thanks, Patrick. It was nice meeting you," she said, not-so-gracefully following after her friend.

I was still smiling by the time I got back to Aaron's flat. Aaron himself, along with Nick, the neighbor Dan, and some other guy I did not know were sitting in the living room, going silent when I walked in the front door.

"Hey Trickster," Aaron greeted. "What's with the smile?"

"Oh, nothing," I shook my head, smile growing wider.

Aaron lifted both eyebrows. "Okay, well, dinner is in the kitchen. Just some pizza and tea."

"Thank you," I said, though went straight to the guest room. As soon as I closed the bedroom door, they began talking again. I couldn't help but over hear.

"December? A week, right? Hotels too or just the flight?" The voice sounded unfamiliar, so I placed it with the unnamed man.

"For now, just a flight for one. That's our biggest goal." Nick. "Maybe two, so he doesn't have to travel alone."

"What if..." Aaron began, voice hard to hear. "What if... -k doesn't want... stay? Or... does-... go back? Nick, what if he leaves me again?"

I pulled away from the door. This conversation was already in too deep for it to make any sense to me. So instead I hopped onto the bed and opened up my laptop, clicking on Skype to see if I could talk to my friends before I went to sleep, the green dots next to all Pete, Brendon and Ryan making a smile light up my face.