Lacey-Mariee Taylor was on her way to being qualified as an Olympic skater until the accident that took her little sister's life. Mystic, Wyoming is supposed to be a place to start over - but news of the scandals that ripped her reputation to shreds...
He doesn't remember starting his bike up again after seeing the blonde girl. He doesn't even remember driving to the rink. Mainly because her face is seared into his brain: The blonde curls, the pink lips, those green eyes... The only thing Daniel Anderson really remembers is getting checked out of nowhere by that bastard Jason O'Donoghue and slamming so hard into the safety glass that he feels his brain rattle.
"You're out of it today, big guy," Mike Simmons chuckles, slapping him on the back as he skates past.
"Fuck you, Percy," he grumbles, not wanting to let on that his friend is right.
"Yeah, bro," Skylar Hansen chuckles. "Thought you were gonna be seeing stars after how hard Dono hit you."
"You'll be seeing stars instead after I check your ass, Birdie."
"I didn't know you were gay, Grizzly, damn." The joke makes his teammates laugh and, in the next moment, he's surging forward, slamming hard into a grinning Skylar. "Oh yeah?" Birdie says. He drops his stick and starts tugging off his helmet, Danny doing the same. They wrestle for a few moments, the rest of the guys cheering them until a voice echoes across the ice.
"Do I need to bench you two idiots at our next game?"
Both boys instantly spring apart, breathing hard as their Coach, Keaton Samuels, skates over to them. "I thought so."
"Sorry, Coach," Skylar and Danny say.
"Alright!" Keaton booms with a grin, clapping the boys on the shoulders. "If Grizzly and Birdie are done messin' around, how about we start our practice for tonight?" Twenty voices ring out. "Good! Now get into formation, ladies, and don't make me tell ya'll twice!"
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Back at the house Lacey sits cross-legged on her bed, thinking about what her parents have just told her. Apparently, while she and her brothers were out eating pizza and exploring the town, her father had called the local ice rink to book early morning and afternoon private skate time for the next couple months. Ryan had been a major part of convincing them to do it, she learned, with the belief that Lacey should still have some sense of normalcy regarding skating, even in a new town. She hadn't been pleased, of course, mainly since she hadn't been consulted on any of it, especially since it's her life and all, but... after stewing for a while in her room she'd come to the realization that maybe, just maybe, the whole private skate thing wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Beside her Tucker whines, bringing her out of her thoughts, and Lacey reaches over to scratch his ears, letting him know she's alright.
"Thanks, buddy," she murmurs, tangling her fingers in his soft fur.
Lacey glances around, forcing her eyes to make out the shapes of the things in her room. All her furniture is in place, several boxes stacked neatly along the wall by her bed to allow smooth navigation. She sighs and gets to her feet, fingers brushing the nightstand to the right of her bed as she stands. Lacey slowly moves around the room, letting her fingers touch every blurry shape she passes, so she knows by touch where things are. Her room is fairly large, much larger than she's ever had before — the walls a bright yellow that seem to scream "be happy!" at her. There's a large bay window/seat combo off to the left of her queen bed, while the right wall houses a floor-to-ceiling mirror along with a ballet bar so she can still practice. A glass case that will hold her trophies and medals on its right and hooks for her skates and ballet slippers off to its left. Past the door to her room is where her desk and computer sits inbetween the closet double doors and her bathroom. At the end of her bed is a small couch covered in fluffy pillows. She flops down on it, hugging one of the pillows to her chest, and a wave of sadness hits her hard.
