Pitter Patter | Victuuri Adoption AU on hiatus

Dye

Shyness governing my motions, I step away from James until I believe myself to be out of earshot.

"Hello?" I answer, stepping aside as a girl shoves past me to enter the building.

"Hey, Kyrie," Poppa says over the phone. "I'm about to take Elkena to the airport— you said good-bye this morning, right?" he digresses from the point of my text to him.

"She was half-asleep," I laugh, "but yes, Poppa. What about my ride?"

"About that, Elka would rather not be late to the airport again," he pauses and a garbled angry agreement from Elkena fires from the background. "Can you wait there until Papa finishes giving his lessons?"

I glance at the time and groan. "That's like an hour from now," I whine. "It'll probably be done raining, by then, anyway."

"I know, バルキリーコ (Barukirīko/Valkyrie)," he begins to apologize. "It's not ideal, but—" an angry bark cuts him off, eliciting a stern Japanese warning.

Elkena sure seems cranky— or maybe anxious— but Poppa doesn't let her maintain an attitude with him. I don't really blame her for stressing out, though, because she's got a big season coming up in the senior division. Not to mention, when it's Poppa's turn to travel with her, Elkena can't help but give more emotional performances— which also entails a bombardment of emotions off the ice.

"I'm so sorry," Poppa sighs, "Kyrie, I have to go. Will you be okay?"

I shrug and grumble a kind of assurance. I can hear the amused relief in my father's voice as he says goodbye. But when I hang up, I realize I'm stuck here for at least an hour. An angry sigh leaves my lips as I return to the bench that James and I had previously occupied.

But anger percolates inexplicably in my chest when I see my seat is now occupied by someone new. I shouldn't be so offended, but I am. I mean, this girl is sitting right on top of my stuff.

"Who's the bottle of pink hair dye?" she looks up from their conversation and eyes me as I tentatively approach.

"Hey, Valkyrie!" James smiles, turning away from the other girl. "All okay?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," I stutter, trying to nonverbally cue James to make the other girl go away now. "I'm here for another hour, though, I guess." He's not getting it.

"Oh," I can tell he's already gotten the wrong impression. "Valkyrie, have you met Trista Taylor? She's a skater, not a ballerina, but she's getting ready for the first comp of the season."

She shrugs and nods, not wanting to look at me. She's clearly a Canadian skater, as well, wearing a similar sports jacket littered in Canadian colors and emblems. Her jacket has glitter around the shoulders, though, giving her an air of untouchable glamor. The shimmering sight of her jacket and heavy smell of her expensive perfume makes me want to grind my teeth. She's the fake kind of pretty, eye-makeup heavy and hair tucked into a disgustingly and impossibly perfect bun on the top of her head. I see dancers like her often enough, but I don't get along with them either.

"Trista is like my best friend," James seems to be teasing her, trying to fill the silence when neither of us make any move to greet one another.

She glares at James, but doesn't say anything. I want to know what she thinks is her problem with me. Or is it with James? She then turns a cold gaze of amber-brown hatred on me. What did I do, but walk back over here?

Oh. It comes to my attention, when my head starts to hurt, that I don't just want to grind my teeth, I am grinding my teeth.

"Hi," I offer tersely. "I'm Valkyrie. You're sitting on my stuff," I nod under the seat, where my jacket and backpack lay scattered.

Her face changes to accommodate an ugly round-cheeked smile.

"Oh, my bad," she rolls her eyes as she moves. "Was I in the way?"

I literally just told her she was in the way. Am I about to catfight this hoe just because I don't like her attitude? Or am I about to catfight this hoe because she's literally asking for it?

Stay calm, Valkyrie. I don't need to make a scene.

James bends low and hands up my hoodie. It feels lame in comparison to their sporty styles. I have one of their caliber too, I guess, for dance competitions. But I don't do those anymore. I'm working on getting into college, these days, thus I'm wearing apparel for my Poppa's university. I guess ballet isn't my life like skating is these two's. I swallow hard and thank James quietly.

"No problem," he seems to see something on my face, because he frowns as he says it. "Something wrong?" he whispers so Trista can't hear.

I shake my head and look away. Self-conscious of the bright pink hair falling into my face, I push it back and shrug toward James.

"I'm not happy about being here for another hour," I tell him. "My Pa is teaching in the uptown rink, where all the little kids go," I explain. "I'm debating walking home through the rain, though."

"Don't do that," James shakes his head. "You should practice so'more with Trista and me."

I shake my head. That idea does not sound pleasant. James looks torn between wanting to flirt and wanting to skate. He puts on a better face and gives it one last stab.

"You sure? I mean, you are my new pair-skate partner," he says with the cutest puppy dog eyes.

As if to strengthen his argument for me to stay, Trista pipes up indignantly.

"Jamie!" she exclaims, shooting me a vicious glare. "You didn't tell me you were pair-skating!" she accuses him.

"I didn't tell Valkyrie, either," James shrugs with a chuckle. "I was told by Mr. Plisetsky. Is a family friend or relative to you, Valkyrie?"

"Family friend," I shrug, unable to hide a small smile.

Trista's face is one of jealousy and horror. But James quickly tries to put a bandaid on her ego.

"We aren't competing together. Valkyrie's never been on the ice before. I'm sorta peer-teaching her so she can help me learn ballet."

Something in Trista's face becomes too hard to uphold and her entire look becomes angry.

"When were you going to tell me?" she demands. "That's something you ought to mention to your girlfriend."

I suddenly understand her hostility toward me, now. Horror grips my chest like tendrils of an icy vine as I realize I was the one being a hoe. James just laughs and rolls his eyes, replying with some kind of witty response that is meant to appease both the girls in front of him.

"I was only just informed of this happening, myself, this morning. Right, Valkyrie?"

I hardly hear him, though. I'm too busy formulating in my head my frantic plea to Elkena.