CHAPTER 1

Bellamy Blake charged out of the locker room followed by a horde of boys clad in pads and practice jerseys, all toddling on flat ground in their skates. He stepped into the arena and took a deep breath, relishing the smell of cold air and fresh ice. His smile faltered as he reached the rink.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Time to cool down and get off the ice, it's past 3:30, you're cutting into our time!"

A small blonde girl landed a double axel and turned to face him.

"Don't think so," she said evenly and skated towards him. "We're just starting, I booked the ice for a two hour block starting at 3:30."

"And who the hell are you?"

"Clarke Griffin," she answered. "Captain of the skate-team." Her eyes dropped to the C on his jersey. "And let me guess, you'd be Bellamy Blake, captain of the hockey team?"

"Does this look like a curling broom to you?" he held up his stick.

"Not particularly," she commented drily. "Just trying to get the formalities out of the way but I guess I should have known better than to try."

"Right," Bellamy gritted his teeth. "Well let me formally tell you to get off the ice."

Clarke looked from him to the figure skaters behind her.

"You know what, I think we'll stay."

"No," Bellamy shook his head. "Not an option. Not sure if you noticed but I didn't formally request you to leave, I formally told you to leave."

"That's not how this is going to work," Clarke wrinkled her nose. "You might have authority over them," she nodded to the hockey players behind him. "But you don't have any authority over me."

"Wanna bet?" Bellamy asked. "I booked the rink. We've got a big game coming up, we need the ice time."

"So?" Clarke challenged. "They must have double booked us. We've got a big comp coming up, we need the ice time just as much."

"Sure," Bellamy scoffed. "But last time I checked, the hockey program takes priority over the skate program at this school so I'll do whatever the hell I want."

"Whatever the hell you want, huh?" Clarke looked him up and down. "That's the rules you want to play by?"

"Damn right," he nodded.

"Fine by me," Clarke sniffed. "I guess I'll do whatever the hell I want too," she put her hands on her hips. "Raven, Finn- go ahead and start warming up," she called over her shoulder. The two skaters behind her shrugged and took off, skating laps around the rink. Clarke turned her attention back to Bellamy.

"You practice in that half of the ice and we'll practice in this half," she nodded towards him.

"Yeah," Bellamy exhaled, "and what do you expect me to do with half a rink? I've got 18 guys out here."

"You figure it out, you're the captain, aren't you?" Clarke reminded him. "Why don't you set up pylons and do some skating drills?" She asked and surveyed his team appraisingly. "You guys look like you could use it."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "So now the figure skater is a hockey coach too? Got any more advice for me?"

"It doesn't take a hockey coach to see you've got some sloppy skaters. What sort of defenseman can't even skate backwards?" she nodded towards a burly boy scrambling towards the net.

"Kovacevic can skate," Bellamy grunted but shot the boy a worried look.

"If you say so," Clarke raised her eyebrows. "Anyways, I'm not leaving."

"Fine," Bellamy set his lips in a firm line. "I'm not either."

"Fine," Clarke echoed him. "Just stay on your side of the ice." And with that she turned neatly on her blades and skated away.

Bellamy watched her go, her long blond hair streaming out behind her as she glided gracefully across the ice.

"Scotty, Bielsko," he barked. "Drag the net over to centre ice."

Scotty hesitated. "But then we'll be shooting towards them."

"Exactly," Bellamy huffed at him. "Consider it a high stakes practice in aim."

What started out as a scrimmage with a few stray pucks sliding into the skate-team's end quickly devolved into half the hockey team just standing around and shooting at whichever figure skater appeared accessible. Slowly, the skate-team straggled off the ice, unwilling to go flying into the air in a toe loop when wrist-shots were being aimed at their feet. Only one figure skater remained- Clarke.

The boys continued to shoot pucks at her but she only skated faster, whirling around the ice in intricate serpentine step patterns and evading shots with crossovers around corners. She glared at them unflinchingly the entire time, her skates cutting sharp edges in the ice and her swift footwork leaving elaborate trace patterns.

Bellamy watched with his eyes narrowed and his hockey stick clutched across his body. He was annoyed. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit impressed. The girl could skate.

"Goddammit," he grunted. "We're not quitting practice for one girl. We need the ice time," he glanced up at the clock. They only had an hour left of practice.

"Alright, quit shooting," he waved off his boys. "Hey!" he shouted. "Princess!" he skated furiously down the ice towards her.

"I thought I told you to stay on your side," she replied coolly.

"And I thought I told you to get the hell out of the rink," he bit back, stopping quickly and spraying her with ice.

"Nice," she said flatly and brushed the snow off her leggings before placing her hands firmly on her hips. They seemed to be running into a pattern.

"Your team is already in the locker room," Bellamy said through gritted teeth. "You'd be a lot better off if you followed them out," he brandished his stick.

"Why, what are you gonna do?" she jutted out her chin. "Drop your gloves?"

Bellamy swallowed. His eyes flitted to his team mates who were watching with interest. "Brave princess," he broke into a grin and shifted forward so he could tower over her. She tilted her head up to stare at him impudently, hands still on her hips and her toe pick ground into the ice.

"That's it," he said and reached towards her. "You're out of here." In one smooth motion he lifted her by the waist and straightened his arms to hoist her in the air.

She squealed in surprise but the sound quickly turned into ground out threats.

"Put me down, Blake."

"Or what?" he asked and wrapped one arm around her waist while pulling her legs to his hip by tugging from behind her knees. "You're not in a position to be giving orders." He dipped her head backward while skating toward the boards.

She arched her back reflexively, balancing out her weight in the lift.

"I swear to God, Blake. If you drop me and I'm injured for this comp-"

"Then you won't be able to steal my ice time for the length of your recovery," he finished for her in a bored tone. "Hm, I think I'm going to drop you."

His arms gave way and she dropped an inch towards the ice. She gasped but at the last second he caught her and kept skating.

He came to a stop at the boards and straightened her out, lowering her to her feet. One arm firmly around her waist, he used the other arm to reach over the board and jerk the door open, before roughly shoving her through to the other side. He slammed the door shut between them and sized her up with a glare.

"You're an ass," she declared.

"And you're a pain in the ass."

"I'm just going to keep coming back out on the ice."

"Well I'm just going to keep carrying you back out here."

"You caught me off guard the first time, there's no way in hell you'll be able to catch me a second time."

"You think you're a faster skater than me?"

"I know I'm a better skater than you."

"It's 18 vs 1, you sure you want to play tag?"

She sighed and bit her lip.

"We done here?" Bellamy asked and gestured between them.

"No," Clarke insisted. "This isn't over."

"It is for today," he called and started skating towards his team mates.

"Alright," he said when he reached them. "Get that net back at the end of the ice, let's scrimmage while we still have the time."

Clarke huffed and put her skate guards on, marching out of the rink with her hands balled into fists at her side. She wandered around the back offices until she found what she was looking for- the fuse box. She opened it up and hit the switch for the lights in the rink.

She smiled as she heard a chorus of surprised shouts coming from the ice.

"Let's see them try to chase the puck in the dark."

The following day, Bellamy and Clarke sat side by side in the principal's office.

"It wasn't a mistake Miss Griffin, we booked you both for the 3:30 time slot after school."

"What? But sir, why? This is so impractical, I had the ice booked first."

"Don't think so, princess. We've been practicing in that time slot every week since the beginning of the season," Bellamy jeered.

"Enough," Principal Jaha cut in. "Due to budget cuts, the school is no longer able to buy as much time at the public rink. You're going to have to make do and share the ice."

"But sir, it doesn't make sense. Why doesn't the boys' hockey team share the ice with the girls' hockey team? Then they could at least use the full rink together and train doing the same drills."

To his surprise, Bellamy found himself nodding along with Clarke's idea.

"The public rink has rules about how many athletes can take the ice at a given time. With the boys and girls' hockey teams together there would be 36 athletes on the ice- that's over capacity."

"So I'm stuck with her?" Bellamy groaned. "How are we supposed to share the ice, and get ready for the big game, its impossible."

Principal Jaha smiled. "That's something you'll have to work out on your own. Put your heads together, I'm sure you'll think of something."

"But sir!" they both intoned together.

"Enough," he said again. "I don't want to hear another word about it. This is your responsibility to work out," his lips twitched when glared at each other venomously. "But work it out on your own time. That means get out of my office."

Clarke sighed and stomped out the door with Bellamy hot on her heels.

When he was halfway out the door Principal Jaha spoke.

"And Mr. Blake?" he said without looking up from the paper he was marking up in pen.

"Yes?" Bellamy swiveled his head to look at him.

"Forcibly remove another skater from the ice and I will remove you from the hockey team."

Principal Jaha continued to stare down at his paperwork. Bellamy swallowed hard.

"Yes sir," he said, his voice a throaty rasp. He closed the door behind him and jogged down the hallway to catch up with Clarke.

"Hey," he caught her by the elbow and spun her around. "What the hell?"

"What?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Forcibly removed a skater? Seriously?" he demanded. "God, I can't believe you told Jaha."

"Actually, I didn't," Clarke pursed her lips. "Must have been one of my skaters. Either way, you're really going to complain because we're not okay with you just manhandling us out of your way?"

His face contorted in anger. "Listen, princess-"

"No, you listen," she pushed him in the chest. "Hockey isn't the only sport at this school suffering from budget cuts. If you want to get anywhere with your team then you're going to have to work with me because we're stuck with this situation, regardless of whether we asked for it or not."

"I don't have to do anything with you," he snarled. "There's six of you and eighteen of us- you guys can find a frozen parking lot to train in. We'll be taking the ice."

"Are you stupid?" Clarke blurted out. "Did you not listen to a word Jaha said? His attitude is work it out or suck it up. He doesn't give a shit about your hockey season, he's got bigger problems. The school is strapped for cash. If he thinks we're more trouble than we're worth he's going to shut down both of our programs."

"He can't," Bellamy shook his head. "We need this. I need this." He pushed a hand through his hair and stared at the ground. "How the fuck am I supposed to get scouted for college if he shuts down the program."

Clarke bobbed her head in agreement. "Right? Listen, you're not the only one trying to get in at a D1 school with a free ride."

Bellamy looked up at her sharply.

"It's not like you need an athletic scholarship. Your mom's a doctor, haven't you already got a free ride?"

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "Someone's done their homework." Colour rose in Bellamy's cheeks but his challenging stare never wavered from her face. So maybe he had asked around about her.

"Shut up," he brushed her off. "I'm just saying you don't need the money, you don't really need the ice time."

"Just because my mom's a doctor doesn't mean I want to be at her mercy every time I need a dollar," Clarke said darkly. "I don't want to owe her anything," she mumbled.

Bellamy cocked his head and opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't ask," Clarke shook her head. "Just trust me on this one. I need scholarship money. That means I need this to work. We all need this to work. So work with me here."

Bellamy clenched his jaw and cast a long glance at Principal Jaha's office.

"You really think he'd cut the hockey program?" he asked in a low voice.

"I think he forced us to practice together because he's hoping we'll implode so he doesn't have to cut the program. He's banking on us failing so he can blame it on us and he doesn't have to be the bad guy who cut funding to sports and the arts."

"No way," Bellamy breathed, his eyes shifting from the office to Clarke. "That's dark."

"Think about it," she said quietly. "Some kids are only able to be here thanks to subsidy funding. If the choice is between cutting a kid's education or cutting sports teams what would you choose?"

"I'm on subsidy funding," Bellamy admitted, drumming his fingertips against his thigh. "I get it, I'd never be able to afford SAT prep or AP exams on my own, but the hockey program is for my future." He stopped talking abruptly and turned and looked at Clarke as if he'd only just noticed she was there. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

"Alright, let's work this out," he said firmly. "What are your demands, princess?"

"I don't have demands, I just don't want you to be an asshole," she responded and Bellamy promptly rolled his eyes.

"Your little stunt shooting pucks at my skaters could have seriously injured one of them. No more bullshit. I don't want my guys getting hurt and neither do you. Neither of our teams can afford an injury at the moment. Last thing we need is some freshman taking a skate to the face because he wandered a little too close to a layback spin."

"I don't know what that is," Bellamy said in a rush and rolled his eyes. Clarke glared at him.

"Alright, so no more shooting at your skaters," he raised his hands. "What else?"

Clarke bit her lip and started walking.

"Well we still have to sort out how we'll split the ice time," she said as Bellamy fell into step beside her. "Why don't we take the first hour after school and you take the second hour?"

"No, I can't run hour-long practices- its too short," Bellamy shook his head as they entered the cafeteria. "We'd spend half the time doing warm-ups and cool-downs and get hardly any tactics in."

"Okay, what if you warmed them up with dry land training, we split the ice for an hour of drills and jump training and then we split the second hour?" Clarke asked. "You'll get a half hour for full rink scrimmages and I'll get a half hour for us to run our routines using the whole space."

Bellamy crossed his arms and worked his jaw thoughtfully.

"Less than ideal," he muttered.

"But probably our best option for the time being, right?"

"Probably," he agreed. "Alright princess," he stuck his hand out. "You've got yourself a deal."