This is a random idea that popped into my head while i was watching Ice Princess with my friends. I hope you like it!! Reviews are welcomed!

Disclaimer: SM owns the wonderful world of Twilight. *Runs off and cries*

Lots of love,

{--Inky--}

Chapter One: The Not-So-Great News

I've been skating since I was a little girl. Ever since my older cousin Aimee was home one weekend and made me watch the Ladies Nationals with her, I've been hooked. There's just something about how the ice beneath your feet and the little bit of wind on your face can make you feel as though you're flying.

I met Alice Brandon when we were twelve, and taking the same skating program. I can remember wondering if Alice was supposed to be there, because of her size. When I asked her how old she was, she acted all offended but told me, and we've been inseparable ever since. Rosalie Hale was thirteen that year, and both Alice and I were scared of her. She was, even then, a million light-years more beautiful than anyone else in the room, and had an attitude that could put Hitler off course. She was put into our class by her parents to 'learn some respect' and was in dire need of a friend. Of course, she never actually told anyone that, but Alice knew. Like she always knows.

When I turned fourteen, my mother bought me my first new pair of skates. Up until then, I had been using my aunt's old pair from her glory days, and whatever I could find at garage sales and such. I was ecstatic, and I spent the whole day out on the little pond behind our house, just breaking them in. I don't think my feet have ever been as sore as they were that night.

Alice's parents were incredibly supportive of her sport, always buying her new costumes, and taking her to the rink every other day. She was enrolled in Frederica Cole's Skating School, and was learning triple salchows before Rosalie and I even considered skating competitively. Rosalie joined Alice not long after that, and her parents were just happy that she was doing something productive, instead of wasting her Friday nights at drunken parties. They were more than glad to fund her hobby.

My mother wasn't as thrilled about me wanting to skate. She didn't approve of the time it would take, which she thought I could be using to study and bring my grade point average up, or the costumes, which she called slutty and revealing, and should never have been introduced to impressionable young girls like myself. That didn't deter me. I spent every school night down at the rink, watching Alice and Rose practice, wishing I was out there with them.

I finally got my wish on my mother's second wedding, when her new husband, Phil, convinced her to let me join Alice and Rosalie's class. My mother, Renée, begrudgingly allowed it, and I was sent to a ballet school, where I learned the semantics of grace and poise. Frederica accepted me, once she had given a thorough evaluation of my potential and current skill, and she set me up with my own coach and choreographer, Anne Walker.

My first lesson was disastrous. I hadn't been on the ice in a serious setting in at least two years, and I was a little rusty. My spins were too slow, and I couldn't land even the simplest jump to save my life. Anne was doubtful of me, and I'm sure she questioned Frederica's judgment on my talent. That was a Friday.

If you were to drive down our road that weekend, you would see a skinny little girl in an oversized sweater and mittens, twirling non-stop behind the house. I was out on my pond all weekend, doing spirals and spins, toe loops and waltzes, hoping to God that I would be better for Anne come Monday.

I was. I handled every movement with ease, and I was where I needed to be all the time. Anne was impressed, and I could feel myself glowing. Pretty soon I was moved out of the basics, up to the level where Alice and Rosalie were. I was put to doing flying camel spins, and reverse spirals next, and I mastered the lutz in a few short weeks.

I was a girl possessed. My life revolved around the rink. I spent almost every waking minute of my day there. If I wasn't at the rink, I was over at Alice's house, with her and Rose, going over routines and choreography. I spent little time studying and socializing. My grades dropped a little, but not enough to make me worry. Renée worried though. She said skating was taking away from my high school education, and that I needed to focus more on my homework and social life, and less on the ice. She made me back off to ice time three nights a week on school days, and one day on the weekend. Alice and Rosalie started dragging me along to parties and mall trips, and I was introduced to make-up. They attacked my closet, tearing up my hoodies, and replacing them with skirts.

I was able to save the parts of my wardrobe that made me, me. Bella Swan. I refused to get rid of my cargos and old torn up jeans, and my many warm, woollen sweaters that Grandma Marie had made me over the years. I kept my sneakers and t-shirts, and I rescued all my toques, wool leg-warmers, and fingerless gloves from the garbage where Rosalie had thrown them. I even managed to sneak in my Doc Martens and my combat boots.

Alice has a theory that a skater should feel glamorous both on and off the ice. I don't agree with it. For me, being on the ice in the sequined dresses we wear is a novelty. I feel like a girl, and that's part of what differs figure skating from the rest of the day. It makes the experience that much more special. I want to be able to go back to being tomboyish Bella when I have the option, if only to make my routines better. I always feel that if I look good, then I have to be good, just to justify how I look to the crowds.

Rosalie agrees with Alice, taking any and every chance to flaunt her good genes. She is almost always in a miniskirt and heels, with a French manicure to match, and her blonde hair is always the essence of perfection. The girl radiates confidence, and every other female anywhere near her (including me) takes a major self-confidence hit when they see her. She can be a total bitch when you make her mad, but she really is an amazing person. I'm glad that she's on my side, because I've sent the damage she can do, and it's not pretty.

Alice, on the other hand, has always been different, but she's so likeable that no one really cares. She wears the wildest colors and the brightest prints, and she never matches. She always has her short, inky black hair spiked up in every direction, and her nails are always painted lime green, no matter what she has on that day. She's sunny and happy, even when we have ridiculously early in-the-morning practices. Some days, you just want to smack her and tell her to frown once in a while. I know I have. On many occasions.

And then there's me. Compared to Rose and Alice, I'm nothing special. Sure, I have the long, wavy, dark brown hair that some girls die for, and the perfect ivory complexion that no cover-up can compare to, but it's not as great as some people think it's cracked up to be. I always look pale, and I can never seem to get a tan. My eyes are a dull chocolate brown, like coffee colored, which I hate because it looks so blank, and my curves are a bit too obscene for me. Alice always tells me that I look beautiful, and that I should just embrace my body. There are girls out there who would die to have the B36 cup that I do.

No matter what she says, I still think my boobs are too big for me.

And Alice can talk. Only someone with a waist as thin as hers and such an adorable, innocent look about her would be able to pull off the two-tone blue halter skating dress with the flower appliqué, on and off the ice.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts and completed my warm-up laps, almost mechanically. Anne wasn't quite here yet, so I had a little free time to burn. Over in the far left corner of the rink, Rosalie and her trainer, Joey, were working on her cantilever spin. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, but it was fanning out underneath her as she spun. Joey was chanting something at her, and she adjusted her position somewhat, making her rotations a little smoother. When she came up, ending her spin, Joey was clapping cheerfully for her, and Rose was smiling, obviously pleased with her progress.

Alice was practicing her double axelin the middle of the ice on her own, so I glided over to help her. Sometimes it's easier to fix your mistakes when someone else is there telling you what's wrong.

"Hey Al. Need a spotter?" I asked, stopping just out of her path. She looked up at me briefly before throwing herself into the air in another double lutz. As she came down to land, she messed up her footing and fell, hitting the ice hard. I hurried over to help her, wondering if she was okay. She had landed oddly on her right ankle, and she might have sprained it.

I offered her a hand up, and she took it, all the while offering me assurances that she was okay.

Alice grinned at me. "I think I could use a spotter, actually." I nodded, and moved so I could have the best viewpoint of her jump. She circled back around, using the time to gain herself some speed, and picked, gliding gracefully into the air. She managed the two and a half turns required for a double axel, and as she started coming towards the ice again, she moved her left foot too far out, throwing her center of balance off. Once she had picked herself up off the ice, dusting the snow off her dress, I spoke up.

"You're moving your left foot. When you come down, you let it float outwards, and then you can't land right." Alice nodded, thinking. "Try holding your knees together more; it might keep that foot in a little farther." Alice nodded again.

"Okay. Watch this one," she ordered, taking another go at it. This time, though, she held her foot in the right spot, sticking her landing, grinning like an idiot. She moved farther towards the boards, not bothering to stop herself. I marvelled at how easily she could keep herself on a path while going backwards. Every movement was sinuous and right, and I was almost envious of her for it.

"She's good isn't she?" A voice asked right next to my shoulder. I jumped, stumbling a bit when my pick caught on the ice. When I righted myself, I saw Andrew, Alice's trainer, standing there, hands clasped behind his back and feet spread wide. He was watching Alice, who had started doing double axels across the rink with ease, now that she could land them clean. I followed his gaze and watched Alice too, for a while.

"She's going to do well," Andrew commented in his deep voice, and I had to nod. Alice was going to go far. She was everything a skater needed to be: graceful, light, nimble, and charismatic. No matter what routine she did, you could always see the passion that drove her forward and the excitement in her eyes.

The heavy metal doors that lead to the lobby of the building slammed shut, and we all, including Rosalie and Joey, turned to see who had entered the room. Frederica Cole herself was striding down the steps, followed closely by Anne, who had her skates slung over her shoulder. We watched the two ladies progress across the room, in front of the stands and finally down the steps to the ice.

Frederica gestured to us with her hands to come in closer, so the five of us made our way towards the head instructor. Once we were all assembled in front of her, Frederica started to talk.

"Ladies, as you know, we have one of the top-notch rinks in the area. We are proud of our nearly flawless facilities. But I am sad to admit that this rink has become a bit of a burden."

Immediately, Alice's hand shot up. She didn't wait for Frederica to call on her; she just started talking in a rush.

"Miss Frederica," she began, worry coloring her tone.

"Please, call me Freddie. You girls are as good as my own."

"Freddie," Alice corrected. "You're not going to shut down the place are you? I mean, Nationals are only a few months away, and I really think that—"Alice never got a chance to finish.

"Miss Brandon, I can assure you that the club will not be closing anytime soon," Frederica reassured us. A collective breath was exhaled. "As I was saying, the upkeep of the ice, and the entire building, has been a bit of a problem lately. The income I am getting is not enough, even with you girls taking private training from the hired instructors." She nodded her head towards Joey, Andrew, and Anne, "I can't seem to find the money to pay my dues. But I believe that I've found a solution to that." Frederica paused there. I was scared of what she was going to say. Was she going to up the price for private lessons? I sincerely hoped not. Between Phil's monthly donations to my fund and my part-time job, I was barely able to afford this dream. Add that to the cost of sharpening for my blades, material for competition and practice dresses, and gas money, and I would have to drop out of school and get another job.

Renée would not be happy about that.

"I've rented out our ice to a local hockey team that needed a place to hold practices. They will have scheduled times for the practices, and I have personally made sure that those times will not interfere with your sessions. Life here at the rink will go on as usual. Alright?" Frederica smiled, obviously pleased that no one was saying a thing about her plan. In truth, it was mostly because the three of us were shocked out of our minds. A hockey team? On our ice?

No. No way. How could Frederica do this to us? This wasn't fair. Frederica Cole's Skating club was for figure skaters. Not hockey players.

It didn't help that I was a bit biased about hockey players. Growing up, every kid who wanted to skate, whether for fun, or to practice, went to the public ice downtown. There were kids from all over town there, laughing, pushing, and racing. While I was working on my spin, one particular group of boys would be playing hockey with sticks and a makeshift puck. They were rowdy and loud, and had no respect for anyone else. A couple of them thought it was funny to go as fast as possible towards some of the younger girls, stopping mere inches away from hitting them, spraying snow all over them and scaring them half to death.

I was generally their main target, mostly because I was small and kept to myself. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly fond of those boys, and the chances that they ruined my view on hockey players anywhere were incredibly high.

So, the very thought of having to share my ice, my sanctuary from the hell that is the rest of the world, was entirely repulsive. And infuriating.

I don't' remember the rest of practice. It went by in a blur, and all I could think about was whether I would meet this team on accident, coming out of the change rooms or something. I really hoped not.

Rosalie and Alice were waiting for me outside the change room door after we were finished. They were both dressed up, as usual, making my cargo pants and black tank-top look incredible shabby. I had pulled my hair into a quick ponytail, not wanting to bother with brushing it out, and I was sporting my usual smoky-eye look and fingerless gloves. We started down the hallway, my sneakers scuffing the concrete floor, whereas Rose's stilettos clicked with every step; Alice made hardly any sound, skipping along in her electric blue ballerina flats.

"This is total bullshit," Rosalie was saying, clearly not happy about Frederica's idea. "I mean, this place is huge. There are at least ten different rooms no one uses anymore, plus an entire wing. Why doesn't she just quit heating those? It would save money on the power bill."

"And keep those stupid hockey jocks out of our rink," Alice muttered darkly.

"This is not good, my friends. There is no way that this is going to end well. It's nearly impossible," I observed. Alice cocked her head, as if to say"hell yeah, you're right", and Rosalie just glared at me.

"No duh, B. God, this is stupid!" She screamed the last part, and it echoed off the walls. I shook my head at her theatrics and adjusted the strap of my duffel bag higher onto my shoulder. Sometimes Rosalie is nearly impossible to deal with. We have learned that as long as she has a steady supply of Rocky Road ice cream and a chance to rant, she can get past almost anything.

And something was telling me we were going to need a lot of ice cream to get past this one.

Alice and I stayed quiet, not wanting to say something to upset Rose any more. It also gave us time to think. What were we going to do about this? There isn't another decent rink, with coaches, for miles from here, and it really will benefit us in the long run. Frederica has to be able to afford to keep her club open, and we need it open so we can skate. I didn't say any of this out loud though. It would probably set Rose off. Again.

We turned the last corner before the lobby and were met with raucous laughter, and it was definitely not from a girl. I looked over at Alice, who shrugged, then looked at Rosalie, who had her heavily mascara-ed eyes narrowed almost into slits.

"Guess who has the ice right after us," she hissed. Realization dawned on me. Next to me, Alice gasped, her small hand flying to her mouth and her eyes wide. Rosalie had her head held high, and was striding purposefully towards the doors. I sighed, and prayed that she wouldn't go over and deck one of them for a stupid reason, like breathing next to her. I didn't think Alice and I could restrain her if she decided to pick a fight.

Damn hockey players.

With my hand wrapped almost painfully around the strap of my bag, I ventured out into the lobby, Alice right behind. There were guys everywhere, sitting on the few chairs scattered on the floor, leaning against the walls, and lounging on the floor. I wrinkled my nose at that. The floors here were nasty; why would anyone want to lay on them?

A couple of them called out to me as I passed, but I ignored them. Chances are, they were just being jerks and it only encourages them when you acknowledge them. I noticed there were four guys a little off to the side from the other groups, and I wondered about that. They didn't seem to be participating in harassing anyone and everyone who happened to walk by, instead talking only with each other, occasionally smiling. Rosalie was almost to the exit when one of the louder guys caught her arm. She spun around to face him, nostrils flaring, shaking his hand off her arm as if it were a disease. He pretended to be affronted. I picked up my pace, hoping to catch her before she gets herself into trouble.

"Awe, come on. Don't be like that," the guy was saying to her. 'I know you want to." He leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and she slapped him clean across the face. He raised one hand up to the now red skin, and managed to glower at Rosalie at the same time. He opened his mouth to say something, but I was there and cut him off.

"Why don't you go back to the prehistoric times? I'm sure your Neanderthal brothers are missing you." I was mildly shocked at how easily the insults and sarcastic remarks to me. Sure, I had been a lot more forward since I'd met Rosalie, who taught me to speak out for myself, but I still tended to stick to the shadows, waiting in the wings to smooth out Rosalie's ruffled feathers or console Alice when she gets herself worked up over nothing.

"Or not. I wouldn't blame them if they were glad you were gone," Rose continued smoothly, never lessening her glare on the guy. He looked back and forth between us, his mouth open comically. Just then Alice skipped up, stopping herself and Rosalie's right elbow, joining in.

"I bet you don't know what a Neanderthal is. I wouldn't be surprised," she said sadly, shaking her head in mock disappointment. The guy recovered by then, and decided to try for rapier wit.

"You must be those figure skaters," he sneered the word, mocking it, "that the old bat told us not to disturb on the ice." I could feel my blood boiling. Who did he think he was, insulting Frederica Cole, one of the greatest competitive skaters of her generation, and maybe even ours, so blatantly?

Before I could retort back to him, he continued.

"You probably think you're all that, with your fancy costumes and toe picks. That's a lie," he laughed, and I barely restrained myself from hitting him. It surprised me, because I'm generally not a violent person. Rosalie wasn't nearly as collected as I was though. She lashed out, landing a nice right hook on his left cheek, her ring leaving an indent. He fell, swearing loudly, and Rose just smirked down at him. A couple other guys rushed over to help him, asking James, as we learned was his name, if he was okay. He just swore at them, and stumbled to his feet.

The corner where the four boys from before sat was loud, as they were all laughing hard, the big one going as far as rolling on the (once again) filthy ground. It brought a smile to my face, to know that the entire team wasn't behind this James guy. That at least some of them had a little sense.

Rosalie flipped her hair over her shoulder, and stalked out, letting the glass door close behind her. I hurried after her, catching the door before it closed completely, and paused, glancing over my shoulder. Alice was coming, but she stopped in front of James, giving him her sweetest smile, dazzling him. He blinked, and she swiftly kicked his knees out from under him, sending him to the floor again. She darted towards the door, winking at me as she passed, and I sighed. I followed after the two of them, wondering how I ended up with such crazy friends. Before the door closed, though, I could hear laughter coming from inside, and I smiled.

Nice to know.

So...? Review and tell me what you think! All the outfits are on my profile. Or they will be soon.