Page 2 of Melt His Heart

So perfect, I catch myself staring at him even when he turns around, eventually making it back to his gaggle of teammates. Suddenly, they’re all a bit too loud for me. I hope they’re long gone and off the ice when it’s time for me to train.

* * *

My first skate on the ice felt amazing. It was nothing too serious; just getting a feel for the rink. Coach Peters did come out and watch me for a bit. We did some very light run-throughs of my old programs just so he could see where I could use some improvement. I was a bit anxious at first, but it passed after the first few jumps, which I landed well. I come off the ice to where he’s waiting.

“Looking good out there. Your landings are clean. But I know you want to change up your program.” He says.

I know I’m a great skater, but I really want to show the judges something different this year. I need to qualify for the Olympics, no matter what.

“Yes, I know it’s a lot to do so soon, but it’s something I really want to work towards,” I say, biting my lip.

Changing up my program is going to be an added challenge, especially since I’m not set on how drastically different I want it to be from my previous programs, which had more of a classical style.

“Don’t worry, we can make that happen. I have a new choreographer set for you already. You’re going to do great. This is definitely doable at your skill level.”

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your words.” I nod.

“Of course.”

“Well, let’s cut it short today so you can get settled into good ole Jersey.” He grins, “and let me know if you need anything at all. I’m always on call.” I give him a small nod. Coach pats my arm lightly before he heads off.

I’m feeling so motivated after that session. Hearing him praise me really helps with my nerves and confidence. The need to be a better skater than everyone constantly gnaws at me, and I know it’s not good to compare, but I can’t help it.

The rumble of the Zamboni roaring on the ice signals it’s probably time for me to start heading to the gym for a light workout.

After removing my skates and settling everything in my bag, I catch a glimpse of the hockey player with some of his teammates from earlier. They must have finished up their allotted gym time, meaning I can exercise in peace. We lock eyes for a split second, and he gives me a small smile, but I look away, my cheeks running hot.

Chapter 2

Iguess ‘clean up after yourself’ is a mere suggestion here because every single week since I’ve started training at the rink, these idiot players have not only left the gym we all share a complete mess, but they seem to have a complete disregard for me and the other skaters in general.

I’m absolutely fed up. I get through my breakfast and head down to the lobby of my building. I don’t live too far from the rink, so I’ve been walking a lot of mornings just to clear my head before training, and I catch the bus back at night. I’m usually too tired to walk by that point.

The changing leaves are starting to fall. The town I’m training in is so different from anywhere else I’ve stayed before. It’s cozy and what I imagine when I think of America. The houses are huge. The smell of freshly cut grass hangs in the air when I walk by. It has to be a lot to maintain, but beautiful nonetheless. Occasionally, if I have a bit of time, I change up my route to work just to look at all the different colorful homes.

I try not to do that too much though.

Because I’m afraid of getting lost.

I walk past the flower shop I always see on my way again. This time, I stop and take a quick peek inside; there’s always a guy at the counter making arrangements for the day, and it just looks so beautiful. There’s flowers dangling everywhere, including the ceiling, and I’m sure it smells spectacular in there. I’m going to go in one day. But not today.

Today I have a certain hockey player to chat to.

* * *

I make it to the rink and yank the door open. The chill of the arena greeting me, I always miss it, the feeling reminds me of a warm hug. I know they’re still going to be running drills when I finish getting ready and get down to the ice. Which I do in record time because I’m fuming.

And sure enough, when I make my way to the threshold, they’re still there, running their stupid drills. I would have more respect for them as athletes if they weren’t so tactless.

“Hey!” I yell across the ice at the only player I recognize. The handsome one who loves smashing his body into the boards, who, by the way, I’ve recently found out is their captain. I guess they let just anyone lead in that sport. He turns at my voice, a grin already on his face. He skates right up to where I’m standing.

“What’s up?” He says, I can tell by his tone that he’s not taking me seriously. I bite my lip in annoyance.

“This is the third time this week you and your little team left our gym a complete wreck, do you know that?” I fold my arms with a huff, “I was in there last night, and none of the weights were racked.” My pulse quickens the more I stare up at him, and he just stares back, a smirk forming on his lips. I’m glad one of us is having fun right now.

“Little team?” He says, obviously trying to hold in his laugh, “I see. My bad, I guess we can get a little carried away preparing for preseason.”

“Ok.” I roll my eyes at his excuses because how careless and inconsiderate can you possibly be?