A/N: This is a story I've been meaning to write for a while and haven't had the time to do it. Now I do, so here it is. Anyways… For starters, let's get a few things straight. Luke is 18. He's a senior. Adrianne is 16 and a junior. Luke is not gay. Neither is Adrianne. Luke likes Adrianne. End of story.

Being a teenager isn't easy. It gets hard when you have your driver's license, and even harder when you have a hobby that cuts into your homework time. It gets really, really hard when your hobby calls for you to rise at 4:15 in the morning… every morning. Except Saturdays. Then I have to be up by 7, and I get to train… all day.

What is this hobby that causes me to rise in the wee hours of the morning? Pair Skating. Like when there's a guy and a girl on ice skates and they do all this fancy-schmancy stuff while acting like they adore each other. And sometimes they do… It gets quite… interesting… after a while. Especially when my partner is head-over-heels absolutely crazy about me.

I'm not alone in my training, though. Obviously, I'm with my coach, George. And since I'm a Pair Skater, I'm with my partner, Luke Schearer, too. Being a Pair Skater takes a lot out of you. Especially since I'm still in school, and thus have to make my practice schedule fit around my school schedule. It's very confusing, considering the fact that Luke is also still in school.

I wake up at 4:15 A.M… every morning. He wakes up around 3:50 because he insists on taking a shower before he comes. I see no point in it… you're only going to get sweaty… again… Anyways. We make it to practice by 5 a.m. and practice from 5 to 6:45 or 7:00. Then we shower off, and I get a ride with him. We usually stop at either Chick-Fil-A or Burger King, eat breakfast on our way to school, and arrive between 7:15 and 7:40. We go to school from 8 to 12:30. Then we eat lunch and go back to IcePlex at 1:15. We skate from 1:15 to 4:45, then go to the gym with George to train from 5 to 6:30. Then we go home, eat dinner, do our homework, and go to bed.

It all gets very tiring after a while, but I love it—I wouldn't have it any other way. Especially my weight and height. At sixteen years of age, 4'11, and just under 95 pounds, I'm what most people would call "tiny". Luke says it makes it all the easier to throw and lift me, and stuff of that sort. I, on the other hand, get sick of people constantly telling me that I look like a malnourished 10-year-old. George says being small is good for both of us, since Pair Skating is dangerous anyways. It's not necessarily wise for a 6'1, 120 pound high school senior to pick up a 5'4, 115 pound high school junior and spin her around several times before allowing her to fall several feet onto the slick ice, then hope she completes a triple axle. Which is extremely hard to do, by the way.

So anyways. I don't have much time for this little thing called "life" in between skating, training, and school, but again, I wouldn't have it any other way. But just because I don't have a life is not saying I don't have any friends… I'm not home schooled. I go to a public high school and have friends, just like any other normal person. The only irregular part about it is the fact that I get to leave halfway through the day, and the fact that I don't have any electives, like band or art or keyboarding. I never have, really.

I've got two best friends—Emily and Renae. We spend a lot of time on Sunday together, since it's the only day I've got more than three hours to myself. We all go to the same church. Then we go out to eat, sometimes with my family, sometimes with theirs, and sometimes with Luke and George, before going to someone's house and studying for tests or do homework left over from Friday.

So yeah, that's my life. Interesting, no? Yes. Especially since I moved up to Senior level this year Luke and I are now allowed to compete in the National and World competitions with all the big shots. Like Michelle Kwan. If I was skating against her, I wouldn't stand a chance. As it is, we're not, since Pair Skating and Women's Skating are two completely different things. Anyways, since Nationals are in a few weeks… things have been interesting.

Luke came skating up to the wall, watching me write whatever in my journal.

"Whatcha writing?" He asked, leaning against the wall.

"Stuff." I answered matter-of-factly.

"What kind of stuff?"

"Is George here?" I countered his question with one of my own. "Can't you go… bug him or something?"

"Nope."

"Bah."

"I'm bigger than you, Annie." He told me. "And stronger. You need to diet. You weigh too much."

"Bah!" I said it louder this time. "I'm 92 pounds as of now. And yes. You are taller than me by a foot and an inch, but that doesn't necessarily make you stronger. Now go away."

"Make me!"

"BAH!" I stood up and jumped off the bleachers, intent on walloping him upside the head with my notebook. Instead, I stepped in a puddle of water and shrieked at it. "YEEK! COLD!"

"Very good, Annie. We have established the difference between hot and cold!"

I growled as I laced up my skates and stepped out on the ice to join him.

"Why do you call me Annie? It's Adrianne. A-D-R-I-A-N-N-E. Adrianne."

"Annie sounds more… feminine." He waved it away with a flap of his hand. "Where's George? We're not going to get anything done today and then we're not going to make Nationals and we'll never make Worlds and my mom will make me go to college and we won't be able to skate together anymore and I'll be sad and so will you, I hope, and then we'll never see each other again and we'll be 99 years old and run into each other at the drugstore getting our oxygen tanks refilled, and you'll forget what you were going to say and I'll laugh at you like I always do and… I ran out of things to say. Yeesh. That was a long sentence."

"I noticed." George's voice floated over to us from where he stood, leaned against the door.

"You're late." Luke pointed out, offering me a hand, since I hadn't stopped in time and had run into the wall and fallen on my butt. "What took you so long?"

"Personal." George said quietly, looking at the floor instead of us.

I shrugged. "What are we doing today, bossman?"

He grinned. I'd nicknamed him 'bossman' years ago after hearing my sister, Mary Ellen, refer to her boss that way. She absolutely hated him. Once she moved out and started college at Auburn, she quit her job and started waitressing tables at the Mellow Mushroom there. (A/N: Mellow Mushroom's a pizza place, if anyone doesn't know…) She likes the boss there a lot more.

Anyways… "You're going to have to share your rink with a bunch of French students. They're here on their class trip."

"And they came to…. Alabama. Why?"

"Space Center. They're going through Space Camp. That's all I know… Their phys ed. teacher wanted to make sure they got plenty of exercise, so they're coming here first. Your brother works there, doesn't he?"

"Who, Cary? Yeah. He's a counselor for the guys…" I trailed off. "Are you trying to hook me up with a French exchange student, George?"

"Who me?" He feigned innocence. "Never."

"All right, that's enough." Luke butted in.

"What are, you… j-e-a-l-o-u-s?" It was common knowledge around the rink that Luke had a crush on me. I knew it. George knew it. Everyone knew it. Only, I didn't like him… like that. He was one of my best friends, though, and as long as he was happy, I was happy. He never let on about wanting to be any more than friends, even though I knew he liked me, so… He's a pretty confusing guy sometimes. Then again… aren't they all?

Either way, confusing or not, Luke and I soon found ourselves on the rink preparing to skate our little hearts out. We went through our first routine—to "Jim Saves The Crew" from the Treasure Planet soundtrack. We actually had two routines that we would be performing at Nationals… "Jim Saves The Crew" and "Dances From Crete". They both are incredibly hard pieces of music—I've watched Renae battle her way through Dances From Crete more than once. This is mainly because she plays the piccolo and has a solo on almost every line, but I digress…

Anyways, George walked out onto the ice in his tennis shoes—he seemed to have perfect balance and therefore did this a lot—and called Luke over. We waited for him to come out of his sit spin, then started talking about what we had done wrong in our last run-through. We were too close to the wall on the death spiral, he said, and Luke's grip on me was too loose. One of us was going to get hurt if we kept it up like that. And thus he set us to practicing a death spiral (which is when the guy grabs the girl by the wrist, then spins her around in a circle when she's close to the ice. It's very painful and dangerous to be dropped on this one).

Ten minutes later he announced that the Frenchies had arrived and we needed to go through our routines once more before saying goodbye to half the rink. Since we both liked Jim Saves The Crew better than Dances From Crete, we did it last. Don't ask why—it's a combination of Adrianne-and-Luke logic.

And so there we were, skating our little hearts out and spinning and stuff, when all of a sudden about 50 or so French people come walking through the door. The one that caught my eye first was this guy (can you blame me? I've never had a boyfriend and the only guy that's ever shown interest in me wears spandex. Not that this is a bad thing…) that had almost white-blonde hair stuck up in a poif over his head. It looked really weird, especially with this purple spot in the middle.

George tapped me on the shoulder and I spun, showing off, before gliding over to Luke. A few seconds later, the music started.

It's easy to lose yourself in the music. You forget everything but landing your next turn or spin or flip. You don't notice people who haven't been there before. You don't notice the music. It's just you and your partner. And, if you fall, the really cold sensation of ice down the back of your leotard… So you can imagine that, since I was used to having a full rink to skate on and the fact that I notice nothing else, I was bound to bump into someone. And I did.

This REALLY HOT guy with messy brown hair lay, sprawled out on the ice, next to me. I blushed furiously, scrambled to my feet, and offered him my hand. "Sorry." I muttered in French, blushing. "Didn't see you." I skated off, after Luke, who was still spinning along to the music, holding his arms above his head where I should have been had I not been an idiot and deferred to full court instead of half-court.

I didn't go back to that side of the court again. Instead, George made us take a break, to eat something, and I willingly obliged. It's not easy, being a skater. You're expected to be small, but when I work with Luke, who weighs as much as a girl my age normally would, you've gotta be tiny. Thus, I was a vegetarian. I ate some meat—I had a hamburger, like, once every four months, if my weight got under 93, and grilled fish every once in a while. Mostly it was veggie burgers, salad, tofu, and yogurt for me. And the occasional soft drink when there was nothing else. Although Gatorade is good…

I had a yogurt in my bag. After putting my blade guards (those brightly colored plastic thingies that go on your blades if you're not on the ice so they don't get all dull) and pulling my shoes off completely, then stepping into a pair of Birkenstocks, I pulled out my yogurt and disappeared out the door.

Once there, I saw a blonde guy with glasses and a girl with pink hair deep in discussion over something about computers. I can't help it—I speak French. It's like English… if you walk by and hear someone in conversation, you can't help but listen to snatches of it. Anyways, I did what I came to do (grab a spoon) and made my way back to the rink. I found George eating a piece of pizza and Luke drinking a Pepsi Edge.

"Annie." Luke poked me in the shoulder.

I growled. "How many times do I have to tell you, Gregory Lucas, to call me Adrianne. A-D-R-I-A-N-N-E. Adrianne."

He waved my taunt away. "Would you stay still on that lift? I can't balance you and skate at the same time."

I heaved an exasperated sigh. I knew what he was talking about. There was this one lift that George had made us do, where I was over Luke's head for, like, five seconds before he flipped me upside down, spun in a circle with me curled up in his arms, and flung me out over the ice where we did a triple flip before going into a death spiral. Shortly said, I was up in the air, then in his arms, then spinning around in the air, then being pulled in a circle on the ice with my head dangerously close to the stuff. It was Not Cool. It was also Very Hard.

"I am still." I shot back, standing to throw my yogurt away. "Just because you won't put your hands where they're supposed to be does not mean that I have perfect balance." My sentence was further illustrated as I attempted to walk across the top bleacher and slipped. With a sigh of defeat, I tugged Luke to his feet and marched to where our skates lay.

It took me thirty seconds to get into mine. It took Luke more than two minutes. "Hey, fatty!" I called from the ice, where I was working on my Biellman spin. "Get your fat butt out here! I'm not gonna wait forever, you know!"

He sighed in defeat and walked out onto the ice. Moments later the music started again and he shot George a glare before starting in on our routine.

In the end, George had to ask Jim, the French people's gym teacher (Jim the Gym teacher… anyone notice the irony?) to move his kids off of the rink so that Luke and I could go through our routine twice without bumping into someone. Then it was off to the gym.

I slipped during the first run-through, missing my triple flip and sliding across the ice on my butt. The second one went without a hitch. It was also the first time we'd done the little combination of doom, as Luke had named it, without one or both of us falling and landing flat on our faces, or some other particularly painful body part.

We cleared off of the ice as the French people started taking their skates off. I took a sip of water before pulling on my blade guards, taking my skates off, and disappearing through the door with my bag slung over my shoulder.

And thus we disappeared off to the gym.

"I'm driving." I said flatly, sitting down in the driver's seat of Luke's car. It worked like clockwork—he drove me to and from school, and I drove him to the gym. He drove me back from the gym to IcePlex, where I left my car all day long, and we both drove home.

"Fine, be that way."

"I will!" I shouted cheerfully, plopping down on the driver's seat and shutting the door.

I pulled out of the parking lot and made my way to the Gym, barely noticing the bus that was right behind us… filled with French kids, of course. What else?

WITH ODD, ULRICH, JEREMIE, AND AELITA

"Did you see them?" Odd asked as he unlaced his skates, watching the mysterious female skater walk through the door with her bag slung over her shoulder. "Wow."

"Adrianne's a great kid." Jim's voice said. Odd turned to see his gym teacher standing behind him, waving to the man Odd thought was this "Adrianne's" coach.

"You know her?" Ulrich asked in confusion, winding the laces around his skates and setting them on the bleachers, slipping into his shoes.

"I know her coach. He's my cousin. Her partner is my brother-in-law's nephew. Came to a Christmas party with us once." He sighed. "If they finish first or second in Nationals, they'll move on to Worlds. It's in France this year, you know."

"How old is she?" Odd followed Jim out the door and down the hall to the skate rental/return window. "She didn't look any older than 10 or 11."

"She's 16."

"She's too small!" Odd cried, looking out the window and seeing her plop ungracefully into the driver's seat. In confusion, he asked, "She can drive?"

"You have to be at least 16 to drive here, Odd." Jim reminded him. "Why are you so interested, anyways? If you like to skate, join the hockey team."

"No, I just…"

Ulrich laughed. "He thinks she's hot."

"I do not!" Odd cried in indignation. "She's just… really good, that's all."

Ulrich smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Whatever."

The two friends made their way to the bus and sat down next to Jeremie and Aelita.

As the bus pulled out of the parking lot, Odd noticed who they were behind.

Adrianne.

He spent the rest of the night thinking about her.

A/N: It's a crappy story so far. It gets better, I promise! And so far, it has not plot, but I'm thinking someone from the Russian team wants to take Adrianne out and is going to use either Luke, Odd, or Jim to do it. Most likely not Luke, since he wants to be in Worlds just as bad as Adrianne. George would call the police… Hmmm… Anyways, that's it, so far.

I'll do responses at the end of every chapter, so if you want to see your name in this fic, review! Reviews are good.

Lilyana