Thin Ice

chapter six

Fifteen minutes later, I come back in a dry shirt with a too tight ponytail, holding my head up high. Most everyone has left, other than my little group lounging by the wall of the gym a few yards away, and- unfortunately- Tristan, who ambushes me just as I slip out of the door of the locker-room.

My face immediately slips into a scowl. As my hand tightens around the strap of my bag, I shoulder him aside roughly. "Get out of my way."

He winces, face stricken. "Alison, wait-"

I whirl around. "Don't call me that. Only-" I stop myself before I say his name. "Just don't."

"You mean your name?" He looks more than confused. "What else should I call you?"

"Ali." I snap. "Actually, it'd be better if you didn't talk to me at all."

Tristan frowns, grabbing my wrist as I go to turn away. "Wait, please." Gritting my teeth, I glance at him through narrowed eyes and rip my hand away. "I-I wanted to talk with you."

I keep my expression empty and unyielding, and my surprise at his demeanor remains hidden. "Then talk."

Shuffling his feet nervously, Tristan clears his throat. Behind him, the boys have noticed our interaction. They watch on protectively, with Hunter leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes glued to us, and Caleb getting off the ground and taking a single step closer. Tyler stares on with distaste while Will looks between the three of them nervously.

Tearing my focus from them, I look up at Tristan, whose uncharacteristic awkwardness permeates from his whole body. "Look I just..." he rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting from me to his feet and back again. "Sorry for giving you a hard time. I'm... not used to being beaten in anything, much less hockey related stuff."

"Especially by a girl, right?" I scoff, glaring up at him angrily. "I don't need to hear it again, jackass."

He's shaking his head before I even finish. "No. I swear, it's not that."

I shove my face close to his. "I don't believe you. You've made it clear since we first met that you don't think I can be a good hockey player because of my fucking gender."

Tristan frowns. "I've never met a girl who played varsity-"

"You came from fucking Canada!" I shout.

"-with guys before." He finishes in a frustrated tone of voice. "Of course you could play on the team, I just didn't know you did! I mean do!" He shakes his head and swears under his breath. "Usually girls' have their own team separate from the guys. It just surprised me it was different here."

"They cut the girls team because of funding eight years ago." I snap.

He frowns. "Well that sucks." My eyes narrow into slits, and he's quick to back track. "Not because I want you to leave or anything, just because it's not fair."

I agree, but I'd rather play with my friends anyway.

Tristan searches my face with his eyes, which are wide and earnest and more innocent than anything I've seen from him since we met. "I just, I don't want any issues between us. Honestly. And I'm sorry it's taken me this long to say it, but I'd like to be friends."

A little late for that.

I want to say the words. I want to spit them at him like they're poison, make him flinch and avoid me and be rude enough that I can hate him without my friends saying to move on. I don't like moving on; I like to hold grudges for many, many years, and I hate being called spiteful or bitter for it.