Cat: Sorry for the really long wiat, I had writter's block regarding this next chapter. Yes, It has Cornelia in it. One of my reviewers brought up a good question. The police think that the Gaurdians died in a car crash because some random adult told them that.

Disclaimer: I don't own W.i.t.c.h.

Cornelia Hale landed her spin perfectly and slid to an easy stop. Elyon was cheering insanely from the railing around the rink. "Great job!"

"You always say that." Cornelia laughed.

"You always do a great job." Elyon replied. Cornelia gave a bow, then looked around the metamoorian ice rink. She still had trouble believing that she'd lived here for a year and a half. It seemed like much less. The day she left Heathfield was mostly a blur, but the day that Metamoore became fit for inhabitance, that day stood out horribly vividly in Cornelia's memory. She shook her head to clear it of that day and looked back at her friend's smiling face.

"What are you doing later?" Cornelia wondered.

"Dinner with the head of state." Elyon replied somewhat unhappily.

"I thought that was yesterday."

"Yesterday was the other head of state."

"How many are there?"

"No clue." There was a brief pause, interrupted by an extremely loud buzzer. Both girls groaned and clamped their hands over their ears as thirty or so metamoorian hokey players stampeded onto the ice. Elyon let out a little cry as her best friend was nearly trampled. Cornelia however, threw herself over the rail and tumbled to the concrete floor.

"Jerks." She muttered, pulling herself to her feet.

"Cute jerks." Elyon said, not looking at her friend. Instead, she was gazing out across the ice at the guys.

"They're blue." Cornelia said grumpily. "How cute can they be?" Then she followed her friend's gaze and paused. "Really cute." she breathed. Both girls looked at each other, and then squealed happily.

"Number 27!"