Hey guys, time to go through the routine again where I apologize for posting chapters super late and then give excuses as to why this happened. I do actually have legitimate reasons though, one being I was out of town for three weeks and couldn't write, and the other including crazy studying for mid-terms.
Like I say every chapter, thanks so much for the reviews and support even though I'm pretty terrible at updating. Y'all are honestly the best!
Lots of Jix in this chapter but I promise that next chapter will be more Navrina and some Riley/Stanley since I got requests for both. I also got a request for a Joseph POV. I've never written that POV before but if that's something you guys want, I'll give it a try for sure! It a great idea and thanks to the person that suggested it :)
Not going to go on for any longer. You guys are awesome and I hope you enjoy :)
Maren
"I can't believe I'm doing this." I mutter, the bag that holds my skates bouncing off my thigh with each step.
It's after school and we're currently on our way to go skating for two hours. Not for hockey. No, hockey would be much more preferable than the hell I know I will be put through in about seven minutes. And what happens in seven minutes? In seven minutes, a bus will arrive, full of elementary school children with skates and helmets, ready to circle around the ice clumsily for a couple of hours. In seven minutes, we will follow said children into the building. In seven minutes, the torture of keeping seventy-something kids in line will rest on the shoulders of six people, myself regretfully included.
"Hey, it might not be too bad." Marina tries, sighing. "It might even be fun."
I just send her a look, wordlessly communicating my disagreement with her proposal. She rolls her eyes and adjusts the bag on her shoulder that holds her skates, similar to the bags Riley and I are carrying, though her skates aren't hockey ones like ours. She was reluctant to do this but I'm happy she did. I haven't seen her skate in a long time.
"Well, we all need the volunteer hours so stop complaining." She gives up on her optimism quickly.
"Still doesn't mean I have to be happy about it." I mutter.
"Well, try."
We reach the doors and just wait outside. I lean against the wall of the building and Marina joins me after a moment, Riley standing in front of us. She picks at rocks with her shoes or just shifts her weight from one foot to the other, constantly moving. It's eleven degrees right now with a light wind, so it's a comfortable temperature as I stand here in my hoody and jeans.
Neither one us wants to be here, not even Marina I don't think. I'm here for one thing: volunteer hours. When John ever so politely reminded me of he fact I still need thirty, he also told me about this sheet he saw on the school bulletin board, advertising for students in our exact position. Students who have waited until their final year to begin the thirty hours needed to graduate. He's coming too since he's also in the same boat, but he must be running a bit late.
As if on cue with my thoughts, a black sedan turns into the gravel parking lot, two people sitting up front. The person in the passenger seat waves and I flip him off as I realize it's Stanley. Not my best move considering children could be arriving at any moment, but the gesture was a necessary action in my opinion.
John parks the car and they both get out, grabbing their bags out of the back before starting to walk over. "Ladies!" Stanley greets. The word seems to be his standard greeting now when approaching us. John just waves with a smile.
"Excited?" He asks when he gets closer, one hand in the pocket of his water proof joggers as he walks, the other secures the strap of the bag hanging off his shoulder.
"Overjoyed." I say flatly. He chuckles.
"Hey, Maren, are you sure you're up for this?" Stanley suddenly asks. He leans his shoulder into the wall next to Marina. He only wears a pair of khakis with a t-shirt, despite the fact that he'll be in cold temperatures for the duration of two hours. "I mean, I wouldn't think they'd let the mentally unwell chaperone kids." He finishes, a weak insult really. I guess it deserves a weak counter.
"I guess I should ask what your doing here then." I retort.
Before any real insults can be exchanged, I hear the rumbling of a bus, my ears attuned to the sound after many years of waiting outside for the vehicle in the early hours of the morning. We stop our bickering and watch as the school bus pulls into the parking lot, splashing up muddy water that sat in potholes on it's way in.
The bus stops and what must be a daycare worker steps off first, yelling for the kids to follow her in an orderly fashion. As if that would work. I watch as they pile out of the bus, some coming to stop, and some attempting a sprint directly for the rink before they're yelled at and coaxed to come back. They all talk excitedly and some of the kids actually initiate a game of tag, the councillors having absolutely no control.
Riley leans her back against the wall with the rest of us, next to John. "Anyone ever see 'The Hunger Games'?" She asks. John chuckles darkly.
"May the odds be ever in our favour."
I watch as the councillor suddenly throws her arm in the air, explaining that she'll start to count to three. Most of the kids stop what they're doing immediately, but others whine at her. Nonetheless, by the time she reaches three, all of the kids have calmed down with various degrees of cooperation. I shake my head subconsciously, remembering Mom trying the same move on me, probably having read it out of some parenting book or something. It never worked.
Once the group is quiet, the woman, along with a couple of other adults, start to lead the kids in this direction. We all push ourselves off the wall and wait for... I don't really know, but standing up straight seems like a good idea.
"Alright everyone, these guys are volunteers from the high school. They'll be helping you out today." She gestures to us, the kids looking around her to peer at us. Marina shifts, probably uncomfortable with all the eyes on us. Stanley just smirks.
"Sup." He nods his head at them and some laugh, others wave back, smiles on their faces.
"Okay, they're going to tell you their names now so listen really close." The woman says, prompting Riley to start off to introduce herself. We go down the line introducing ourselves and when we're done she looks at the kids again. "Alright, we'll go in now, but make sure you stay on your best behaviours!" She has to yell at the last part of the sentence, most kids losing interest in her speech as soon as she said 'we'll go in now'.
We follow the kids in and soon we're standing in the girls' change room, surrounded by third graders unpacking their skates and struggling to get them on their feet. My bag still hangs on my shoulder and I can't find a place to sit, so I decide I'll just wait until they all finish. One of the daycare workers stands next me and I lean over.
"So, what do we do? Just stand here?" I ask her, confused.
"Don't worry, you'll be busy in a second."
I frown. "What do you-"
I'm interrupted by a girl calling her over. She smiles tightly and says, "Good luck." She goes over to the girl and suddenly there's shouting all around, apparently everyone needing help at the same time.
I take the woman's lead and start to make my way around, depositing my bag by the wall beforehand. Unfortunately, many of the girls have figure skates, which I'm not familiar with. I scout out the few girls with hockey skates and make my way around, lacing them up with practiced efficiency and quickly making my way to the next pair. Eventually I stand in the middle again, everyone with hockey skates taken care of that I can see.
"Do you mind helping me with my skates?"
I turn immediately at the polite call and nod, kneeling down and putting the girls foot between my legs before I can even think about it. Only when I grab the laces do I realize that it's a pair of figure skates in front of me. I'm could probably tie them, or I'm at least 70% sure I could do it. I'm just about to start an attempt when someone drops down next to me, starting on the girls skates next to me.
"Hey, how you holding up?" It's Riley, using an awkward looking method to lace up the skates due to her cast.
"Just peachy." I reply, starting an unsteady attempt at the laces. She laughs and glances over.
"Wanna switch?" She asks. I look over and realize she's holding a hockey skate between her legs. "I saw Marina tie up a few and I think I got it."
I nod and stand up while she scoots over to replace the spot I was just in. "Thanks."
"No problem."
She goes a bit slow due to her inexperience and the cast, but obviously knows more than me. I start in on the skate steadied between my knees, working through the lace quickly and moving onto the other one in the pair shortly after.
"Woah, you did that really fast." The little girl says in front of me. I look up, confused after being so engrossed in the constant action of tying laces. She has brown hair and wide brown eyes. She's also the only one to actually talk to me, other than the shy 'thank you' I got from most of the others. "The skates, you tied them really fast." She explains in response to my look of confusion.
"Oh." I say stupidly, going back to focusing on the skates. "Lots of practice."
"You play hockey?"
"Yup."
"For how long?"
"Since I was five."
"How old are you now?"
"Seventeen."
"So you've been playing for twelve years?"
I frown a little, not confident I would be able to do subtraction as fast as she did. "I guess." She pauses for a second and I think she might be done.
"Do you like it?" She asks.
"Yeah, it's alright."
"What's your jersey number?"
"Do you ever run out of questions?" I finish tying her skate with a hard yank and look up at the girl with an exasperated sigh, arching an eyebrow at her. She only giggles at my expression and despite myself, I let a small smile escape. "Six." I answer. She appears to think for only a second before her face lights up.
"Six times six is thirty-six, that's your number." She tells the girl next to her, who's currently struggling with her own skates. I don't think she wants to ask for help.
"Hey, I can help you-"
"I've got it." She interrupts. My eyebrows shoot up at her attitude and I bite my tongue to keep from responding with something possibly hurtful. She notices my look and mimics it effortlessly.
"Alright then." I reply, watching her slow movements and knowing she very much does not have it.
"Okie doke," Riley says in celebration. I look over at her. "One down, one to go." She enthusiastically high fives the girl she's working on, who smiles shyly, obviously not as talkative as the kid next to her, or at least not as curious.
I push myself up from my crouched position and nudge Riley with the toe of my shoe. "Slow poke."
She only laughs. "I think I'm doing pretty good for having a broken thumb." She defends.
I just shrug and notice the girl I was helping unclip a helmet from her bag, she puts it on and fiddles with the straps. I sigh loudly and kneel down in front of her again so I'm at her level.
"Making me crouch down again." I complain dramatically. She grins sheepishly and I tap her helmet lightly. "Head back."
She does as I ask and it doesn't take long for me to get her helmet done up, careful not to pull the strap too tight. "Thank you."
"That's what I'm here for." I say. Still kneeled down, I take another look at the dark haired girl next to her, who now has one skate tied up loosely. I know it won't be comfortable to skate in.
"Alright, this is stupid." I tell her, moving so I'm kneeled in front of her instead. She doesn't say anything, but shoots me a 'what do you want' look. I would know the expression, I use it often enough myself. "Give me your foot." I order.
"I can tie it up." She protests. I roll my eyes.
"No you can't, not yet anyway. Now come on." Instead of waiting for her to respond, I just grab her foot and stick it between my knees, untying her work.
"You're bossy." She says, slumping on the bench in disapproval.
"You're stubborn." I retort. She just huffs but doesn't argue further.
"How long have you been figure skating for?" Riley asks the girl in front of her, having a much better time making conversation with her girl. She unclips a helmet from her bag.
"Um, two years."
"Wow, I bet you're really good then." She smiles and puts the helmet on the girl's head gently, unsurprisingly a natural at dealing with kids, much like Marina. Both a smile and a blush appears on the girl's cheeks at the compliment, even visible through the cage on her helmet, and she shrugs. "You know, Marina figure skates too." Riley continues.
"Who's that?" She asks. Before Riley can answer, the brown haired girl speaks up.
"That one over there." She points to her on the other side of the room. "And that's Maren, and that's Riley." She points us out in turn. "And the two boys are John and Stanley."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Good memory." I comment, switching skates.
"Yeah, Terry is pretty much a human Wikipedia." The girl in front of me says. I let out a short laugh, partially because she already knows what Wikipedia is, and secondly because her little girl voice doesn't really accomplish the wit I think she aimed for.
"Anything I can do over here?" Marina's voice comes from behind me and I shake my head.
"Nope, we've got it covered." I answer.
"Riley said you're a really good skater." Terry tells her, head tilted to the side a bit, as though she's waiting for her to confirm it. Marina's face flushes slightly at the compliment.
"I'm not that good." She protests.
"Take a compliment, Mar." I say. She rolls her eyes at me. I finish tying the girl's skates and notice that all around us, kids are getting up from the benches and going out through the door, their gear all on and ready to get on the ice.
"Alright, I'm ready, bye." The girl I was working on suddenly jumps up but I stand and grab the hood of her sweater before she can get very far. "What?" She groans.
"Forgetting something?" I raise my eyebrows at her and she glances irritatedly at her helmet still resting on the bench. "Yeah, now come on." I order, picking up her helmet and holding it out, just above where her head would be if she were closer.
She walks back with a dramatic sigh and stops under the helmet with a bored look. I push the helmet onto her head with a little more force than necessary and drop to a knee so we're eye-level. I sigh heavily and easily mimic the look on her face, flat expression and bored eyes. It only takes a second of looking at her before a small, stubborn smile fights it's way onto her face. I raise my eyebrows at her, smug.
"Yeah, it looks stupid doesn't it?" I say.
"It looks stupider on you." She retorts.
"Ha, joke's on you. Stupider isn't a word."
Despite being wrong, she grins anyway, almost wryly, if a third grader could even accomplish that. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I put a hand on top of her helmet and pull her head back so I can get at the straps on her helmet. I do up the strap and tilt her head back down, shaking my head at her.
"Alright, now get out of my sight." I sigh, standing up. She grins and goes for the door, stopping when a councillor calls out to her.
"Miranda, manners please." She chides, helping another kid get their gloves on.
"Thank you, Maren." Miranda drawls, rolling her eyes.
When she leaves, I sit down on the now almost empty bench, finally able to get my skates on. The two other girls are finally ready and they thank Riley and I before heading out the door. Marina sits down next to me and Riley next to her, all of us getting our skates out.
"You're actually good with kids." Marina says, pulling a skate onto her foot. It's weird, I haven't seen her wear them in such a long time, though she doesn't waste a beat before lacing them up like it's still second nature.
I don't respond, just as surprised as she is that I didn't snap at any of them or get myself fired yet. Shrugging, I start to tie my own skates. I tie mine up quicker than Marina since I think figure skates a bit more work. I stand up and Riley does too as the last of the kids make their way out the change room
"Did those kids seem... weirdly familiar to you guys? Or was that just me?" Riley asks.
"It wasn't just you, I noticed it too." Marina says, still leaned over to tie her other skate. "I don't know why though, I mean, it's not like we would have come across them before." She shakes her head and gets up, balancing easily on her skates.
"I thought it was pretty obvious, that one Riley was with was exactly like you." I tell her. Her eyebrows furrow a little, probably trying to remember the little bit she saw of her.
"How?" She asks.
I sigh. "First of all; she figure skates, second; she was really quiet, and third; she turns red really easy. She's just like you." Riley nods along but Marina just rolls her eyes.
"Alright, I'm not that quiet anymore." She defends herself. "And I don't turn red easy."
"Whatever you say, Mar." Riley says, starting to walk towards the door, prompting Marina and I to follow. She holds the door open, smiling as we go through. "By the way, that was one hell of a kiss you and Joseph had in the hallway on Monday." She says innocently. Marina sighs as she walks past and by the time she's through the doorway, her cheeks are bright red, coaxing a laugh from us.
"Whatever." She says irritably. We all make our way down the side of the rink towards the door that leads to the ice. "Anyway, if that one was me, then that other one you were helping..." she trails off, stuck on the name.
"Miranda." Riley supplies.
"Yeah, she was exactly like you."
"No she wasn't." I argue. Riley laughs.
"I'm backing up Marina on this one. Did you even see her facial expressions? It had 'Maren' written all over it." She shrugs. "Well there's that, and she was snarky smart-ass." She adds, a teasing smile on her face as she eyes me with a hint of caution. I raise my eyebrows threateningly at her and she nods, quickly retreating onto the other side of Marina so there's a body between the two of us as we continue walking.
"Fine, then that one, Terry, was definitely you. Had a guy's name and everything." I retort.
Marina snorts and Riley winces like she's been stung. "Damn, Maren. And I thought we were friends." She puts a hand over her heart, breaking into a laugh at my grin.
We get to the door leading to the ice and look out at the kids skating in sloppy circles on the ice. Stanley and John are already out there, passing around the walker things kids use to balance.
"So, just to be clear," Marina says, "are we saying that these three girls are somehow reincarnations of our younger selfs?"
I spot the three girls on the ice, all skating together in a group. Miranda is practically skating circles around the other two while Marina's doppelganger slows down to skate alongside Terry, who seems to be the least advanced out of them all.
"That's exactly what we're saying." I conclude.
"Or it's just a coincidence." Marina replies, also staring out the ice, head tilted to the side a bit.
"It's a freaky accurate coincidence then." I say. Nobody answers, all of us collectively agreeing to the statement without having to say anything. We just stand there for a second, looking out through the glass and having a silent 'questioning our existence' type of feeling.
"You know, I hate to interrupt... this." Riley says, the first of us to talk after our realization. "But we kind of have a job to do, so we should probably get out there."
Marina nods but I do nothing. Despite the strange fact that I actually turned out to be not bad with kids, I'm still less than bummed about having to skate around with them for another two hours.
I open the door and we head out, the ice feeling comforting under my feet but the group of mini bodies crowded into the space feeling much less familiar. They all talk at volumes louder than necessary and I hear a few screams, probably from someone falling, or just for the fun of it. I try to skate to where the the guys are, but find it near impossible to move in that direction without knocking a kid down. I subject myself to the slow current of bodies and follow along with the group, almost tripping over a couple of kids when they zip out in front of me. They don't even say sorry.
We finally get to he part of the ice where the guys are, and Stanley looks up from his duties, smirking as he slides an ice walker towards me. I catch it with one hand, pretending to not be affected by the force of the push, which actually almost made me slide back. I raise my eyebrows at him and he shrugs.
"Thought you might need one." He says. I give the walker a push back in his direction, skating forward.
"I think somebody who isn't a hockey team captain might need it more."
His smirk fades a bit as he catches the walker, but it still doesn't completely go away, which is the most aggravating out of everything.
"So," John says, easing the tension. "This is quite the turnout."
"Well, it is a required field trip." Marina points out, somehow sounding kind even as she corrects him. John only laughs, and Stanley arches an eyebrow. At first I think he's surprised by her comment, but then I notice him eyeing her skates.
"So, fancy skates, gonna do some tricks for us? A few spins? Maybe a flip?" He smirks arrogantly, putting his hand on the edge of the wall and leaning his body into it. Marina seems momentarily at a loss of what to say, but then she shrugs.
"I'll do a spin when you do a flip." She says.
I grin, and John and Riley laugh. Stanley's eyebrows shoot up, but a grin is quick to make its way across his face too, pleasantly surprised with her retort.
"I was not expecting that." He admits through a chuckle. "Alright, princess. You've got my respect."
"Thank God, what would anyone do without your respect." Riley says sarcastically. There are a few laughs again and Stanley puts his hands in the air, seemingly offended.
"Jesus, I say one thing and suddenly I'm attacked."
"Well it's not like you're undeserving of ridicule." John reasons. Stanley sighs and scowls, running a hand through his hair, which is way too shaggy. At least he actually had enough sense to put on a hoodie after. It must have been in his bag.
"Okay, I know when to admit defeat. But just for the record, four against one is not cool." He shakes his head and crosses his arms. John cheers in victory but Riley is the only one who joins him. Stanley rolls his eyes. "What are we supposed to be doing anyway, just standing around?"
Now finished distributing the walkers, John closes the door the supply was coming from. "I don't know. Probably just skate around and see if anyone needs help."
Stanley scoffs. "They're in third grade, they shouldn't need any help."
"Yes, because I'm sure you had every level of independence when you were eight." I say, rolling my eyes. For once, he doesn't say anything and just wrinkles his nose.
"Yeah, we should probably do something." Riley agrees, looking around. "Considering the amount of kids here, I'd say the best option would be to divide and conquer."
"Uh no, that's what they do in horror movies and someone always gets killed." Stanley says, shaking his head. His statement is followed by silence. He shrugs. "Hey, just sayin."
John closes his eyes tiredly. I don't want to imagine how much of this he puts up with in a day. "Yeah, we'll do that. Divide and conquer, good idea." He ignores Stanley's comments and nods, starting to back up. "See you all on the other side."
And with that inspiring remark, we all go our separate ways.
-Page Break-
"How long do we have left?" John opens the door and steps into the box I've decided to reside in for brief period of time. I came in here to take a break a little while ago, and apparently he's deemed it necessary to take the same action. He sits down of the bench next to me, leaning forward so he rests his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him.
"Why'd you ask me? The clock is up there." I point to the scoreboard where the amount of time we have left here is displayed.
"Well I figured if anyone was going to count down the minutes we have left, it would be you." He points out, smiling. It's true, I've been looking at the clock almost twice per minute since I've been here.
"An hour." I answer.
"See? I knew you would know."
I don't answer, and just look out at the ice. The kids continue to move in the same direction at various speeds, though I see a few rowdy kids racing each other down the middle of the rink, causing a few others to swiftly move out of the way. Marina is at the other end of the rink, kneeling down next to a girl who's sitting on the ice. I assume she fell. Stanley is leaning on the wall of the rink, talking to a group of kids and seemingly happy to be the coolest one in a room of third graders.
"How long have you been in here?" John asks.
"Long enough to potentially get fired."
"I don't think volunteers can be fired."
"Well, that's a shame." I sigh, looking out at the ice again as John laughs. Despite being here for a little over five minutes now, I don't move to leave, not really up for fully immersing myself in the sea of rookie skaters again just yet.
"Cold?" John eyes my hands, which are hidden by the sleeves of my hoodie I've pulled down to cover them, an attempt to draw in some warmth. I shake my head.
"Just my hands."
"Oh, here." He holds out his hands and I raise an eyebrow. He chuckles. "Give me your hand."
"You're not even wearing any gloves. How can your hands be any warmer than mine?" I argue, but put mine in his anyway. He brings his other hand down so mine is cupped between his two. My eyebrows shoot up. "Oh my God, are you made of fire of or something?"
It shouldn't even be possible for hands to pump out this much warmth, but sure enough, I can feel the cold that settled in my fingers being chased out by the heat of his own. His hands are smooth in some places and calloused in others, probably from holding a hockey stick for the majority of his life. He starts to rub them back and forth over mine, creating friction.
He smiles, almost shyly, and I notice a light shade of pink on his cheeks, but that could be from the temperature. "Not fire, just very good blood circulation." He explains.
I roll my eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Biology."
John chuckles. "Well it wouldn't be very logical to have fire for blood, now would it?"
"It would be cooler."
"It would also be biologically impossible, but as long as it's cooler I guess it's fine." He says sarcastically.
I laugh shortly and pull my hand from his, sticking out the other one quickly. "Come on, your job isn't over yet." I prompt.
"Oh." He says, seemingly miffed. "Is that all I am to you now? A personal heater?" He shakes his head with mock offence, but reaches for my hand with an easy smile.
"No, but it is a plus." I admit. He starts rubbing my hand between his again, a little faster than the first, apparently deeming this one of more serious condition. His smile turns teasing, but his blue eyes are still kind, as usual.
"You know, a normal person would just wear gloves." He says.
"A normal person wouldn't have two furnaces for hands." I retort.
He chuckles again and glances down at our joined hands for a second before looking back out at the ice. I feel like talking to him shouldn't be this comfortable. I've only known him for a little more than a month now, but already I'm talking and joking with him like we've been friends for years. Maybe that's just how he is, the kind of guy people just warm up to. He definitely looks the part, with his kind eyes and friendly smiles that make you feel like you could tell him anything, and you probably could. Even sitting here in silence with his two hands covering mine isn't awkward at all, it just feels...
"So, having any trouble with the kids?" He gets us back on track with the conversation, thankfully since I don't want to know where my thoughts would have wandered if they had been left any longer.
I shrug. "None have run away screaming yet so I'd say I'm doing pretty good. You?"
"They keep asking me to race them." He complains, shaking his head.
"And you won't?" I arch an eyebrow. "Why not? Afraid to crush their dreams or just afraid that they'll win?" I tease. He raises his eyebrows at me, apparently offended.
"Neither." He scoffs, sitting up a little straighter as though to achieve a more regal aura. "My level of prestige is simply too high to engage in such childish activities."
"Oh yeah?" I challenge. "What level of prestige did you possess when you took a treadmill to the face because you, literally, couldn't stand to lose?
His mouth drops open for a moment, like he's going to try to defend himself, but then he closes it again, shaking his head. I feel a smug grin making it's way across my face and when he sees it he glares jokingly.
"Technically, it was a tie." He defends weakly.
"Yeah, I could tell by the way your spine hit the elliptical."
He clenches his jaw and I can't help my laugh. He grins too then, and I feel warm as I look in his eyes, which shine with amusement, making the deep blue seem brighter. He looks at the ice and I quickly look away too, though I'm not sure why. My eyes find the clock, where it now shows that I've been sitting here for a total of ten minutes. I can't really find it on me to care.
Across the ice I see a girl making a break up the ice, doing a pretty good job weaving between the traffic going in the same direction. That is until she come across a boy with an ice walker. She attempts to make the turn too tight and her skate gets hooked on the walker, causing her to go sprawling across the ice while effectively dismantling the device from the boy's hands. He goes down too.
Beside me, John sucks in a breath through his teeth, as though he felt their pain. "Ouch." He comments, wincing. He glances at me and shakes his head at my amused smile, quickly realizing I found the accident more funny than concerning. "She could be hurt." He chides.
"Oh come on, she's fine. See?" I gesture to where she's now getting up from the ice, sliding the walker back to the boy who hasn't yet made an effort to get up. "Plus, I think it's her pride that's hurting." I add, recognizing the girl as Miranda, the one I helped in the change room. If her and I are as alike as my two friends seem to think, I know that the only thing the fall would have bruised is her ego.
"And how would you know? Experience?" John teases.
"I'll have you know that I was a much better skater than that when I was eight."
"You must have had an amazing teacher then."
I shrug. "I think I did pretty good."
John's eyebrows shoot up. "You taught yourself to skate?" He asks, laughing when I nod. "What? You couldn't trust anyone to teach you right?"
I roll my eyes a little, though I'm surprised by how much he's come to know me in such a short period of time. Am I really that transparent? "No. Mom can't skate and I wanted to play hockey so she kind of just threw me out on the ice and I learned by myself." I shrug. I wasn't completely alone though, if you count mom watching from the sidelines. John nods but I notice the way his eyebrows pinch together slightly and the almost slanted set to his mouth, the way his eyes dart towards me for only a second. It's a quick expression, but I recognize it as what happens when he's trying to decide if he should say something or not.
"What about your Dad?" John decides to say what he's thinking, most of his debating expression washing away, though a hint of cautiousness remains. "He couldn't teach you?"
I can feel my expression go flat at the topic of conversation, whatever trace of a smile that was left quickly morphing into a clenched jaw of annoyance. The expression isn't because of the question though, it's because of the man associated with it. "Yeah, he wasn't really an option." I say, trying to sound as indifferent as possible so John doesn't fear for my mental stability.
If John is surprised, he quickly masks it, only giving a shrug as his features form a neutral look. "Cool."
His response, the casual way he says it is almost laughable. Like I didn't just admit a huge thing about myself, or open up a doorway to a boatload of potential questions. He just sits there, his eyes still kind, and a smile still hinting at his lips, completely normal. I realize that he gets me, he gets that I don't want his sympathy or questions or comfort. I'm not usually an open book but he seems to understand better than most how I like to deal with things, and he just accepts it.
"So it's just been you and your Mom?" He asks, steering away slightly from the previous topic, more than aware I'm not in the mood to be answering questions about it.
"Pretty much." I reply. "Well, except for this guy she dated for a few years, but..." I trail off, not really liking this topic either and also not really certain why I decided to bring it up in the first place. "He wasn't a good guy." I finish.
John presses his lips together for a moment, shaking his head. "Wow, the men in your life haven't had great track records, have they?" He chuckles, though I can tell he's far from amused by the way only one corner of his mouth lifts up into a small smile, and the way his eyes are now focused on away, like his mind is elsewhere.
"Considering one went MIA seventeen years ago and the other is in prison, I would have to say no." I smile wryly, vaguely aware that this type of conversation should not be a joking matter, though I'm unable to stop the sarcastic remark. It's like a reflex.
"Prison?" John asks, finally fixing his eyes back on me. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't do that. Looking in his eyes makes it harder to focus on filtering the words coming out of my mouth. "Mind of I ask why?"
"Impaired driving." I say. It's at least one of the reasons anyway, the other being information that only a select few people know, and I'm not eager to expand the circle.
"Well, that only confirms my suspicions." John says. I raise my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his answer. "He's an asshole." He finishes. I can't stop a short laugh at that.
"I told you he went to prison but you had to hear another fact to conclude that he's an ass?" I roll my eyes, although feeling better now that the atmosphere of the conversation is turning more into what it was when he sat down.
"Hey, some people go to jail for good reasons." John defends.
"I'm beginning to think you don't understand the concept of jail." I say, arching an eyebrow. John rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh, though I can tell he's not really exasperated.
"Is it possible for you to not be a smart ass? Just for a minute?" He raises his eyebrows at me, as though he's giving me a warning. I shoot back the expression and he takes my silence as a sign to proceed, now smiling a bit. "I'm talking about the honourable crimes, like Robin Hood or something." He continues. "You know, like helping out the people who actually need it-"
"Even though it's kind of illegal?" I finish for him. "Yeah, John, I know what Robin Hood is about. And I'm absolutely sure that somewhere, some guy with a feathered hat and a bow and arrow is sitting in a prison cell just waiting to share his story."
John scoffs. "Alright, that's ridiculous." He shakes his head, apparently unamused with my remark. Letting out a short sigh, he turns to me again, completely serious. "People can't even have bows in prison, much less arrows." He shakes his head again, as though he's disgusted at me for even implying it's possible. I can't keep in my laugh.
It only takes a second for his stoic expression to break too, his grin quickly lighting up his eyes and causing something in my stomach to twist, though it's not a bad feeling. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of his hands still over mine, still radiating a steady stream of heat even though mine have long since been warm. And have I seriously had my hand in his for all this time and forgot? I'm not sure why I haven't taken mine away yet, but I know I should. I should want to pull my hand away, but I don't, not even a little bit. It's only the logical side of me that causes me to pull my hand from his. The same logical side of me that tells me that my hand has already been here for far too long, heating reasons or not.
"Thank you for that." I say, covering my other hand with the warm one to heat it up again. I don't really know what else to say honestly.
"Anytime." He replies. Suddenly at a loss of what to do with myself, I find my eyes darting toward the clock, where it now shows that I've been here for fourteen minutes, which I'm pretty sure is in the disciplinary range for taking breaks.
"Okay, if stay here for any longer I think I actually will get fired." I say regretfully. John laughs and I stand up, dusting off my pants, though I'm almost certain nothing has accumulated on them during the fifteen minutes I've been sitting here.
"Well, I'm coming too." He decides, getting up as I start towards the door.
"What happened to dividing and conquering?" I ask. I look behind me and he shrugs.
"Division was getting boring." He says. I open the door and step onto the ice, gliding away from the box. It's not long before John joins me at my side, easily keeping up with the slow current of kids we're sliding along in. His smile is familiar. "I think adding is much better."
I smile too and find that I couldn't agree more.
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Definitely some Navrina coming up in the next chapter, so hopefully I'll be able to get that up soon. Anyway, thanks again and leave a review if you feel like it :)