Meant For You

three.

Nola Scott

I smooth out the baby hairs that start to fall from the bun on top of my head. "That was good, Nola. Try again," Coach Laurel says. I shake my head, my hands resting on my hips. "Not good enough," I mumble to myself as I set myself up for my jump sequence again. Taking a deep breath, I skate around the empty rink, aware of all the eyes on me. I glance briefly over at my teammates who sit on the bleachers.

My eyes land on a brunette who shoots me a thumbs up. I smile at her shortly. Not only is she my teammate but my crazy roommate as well. While she can be a bit. . . much at times, I still love the girl to death. She's also one of my biggest supporters.

Once I'm in a good position, I step out and do my Axel which I successfully land before landing the last two. I breathe out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in once my feet hit the ice. My teammates praise me with claps and cheers. I let out a deep breath and smile, my hands resting on my hips. "Good girl. Alright, get on outta here," Coach Laurel says, shooing me off the ice. We've been here for the past hour because I've been trying to perfect my jumps.

"That was sooooo good!" Delia, the youngest on our team at sixteen, exclaims. I give her a real smile, "Thanks." As I walk towards my duffel bag, my teammates continue to give me compliments on my jump sequence. My heart swells at their words. I love hearing praise but as the masochist I am, someone bashing me gives me more motivation. For this reason, I don't let people give me praise enough. Only when I really want and need to hear it.

For example, right now. I've had a shitty past couple of days not just on the ice but at school too. While I'm just a freshman in college, the change has been drastic. I've been feeling the effects of it too. My body hurts. My brain hurts even more. I'm tired all the time and I have said no to going out three times this week.

I don't know why that competition with Miles a couple of days ago pushed me to put the two most important things in my life first again. He certainly didn't give me a motivational speech that pushed me to reconsider what I was doing with my life since entering college. He did nothing close to that actually.

Just like I figured after meeting him that first time at Blazing Ice, he was a complete dickhead. I'm not going to sit here and say I was a complete angel but what kind of guy tells a girl to fuck off? Especially one he barely knows. It threw me the wrong way but I shouldn't have expected better from him. He's a professional athlete and while not all of them have egos and attitudes the size of Mars, I could tell from the moment I met him that he did.

I've been around pro athletes my whole life because of my uncles. Even though I was really young, I could see and feel the vibes they gave off. They might love the sport they play but eventually, the fame and money gets to them. They become different. I don't know Miles Dempsey enough to know if he used to be a different person, but I know who he is now. He proved my point by being a complete asshat to me too.

For years, I've strayed far, far from people like that. I was lucky enough to have learned how to stand up for myself at a young age and be able to have the attitude to do it. My dad likes to say I'm a lot like my mom in that way. She's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet, but if you push her too far, she'll show you what she's about. I'm the same way.

I remember being fifteen and telling off seven-year-olds for being mean to my brother Foster. I'll stick up for anyone in my family always. Even if it's Kayce although God knows he can stick up for himself.

I've had to use my attitude more these days. People in Los Angeles aren't nice. People in college aren't nice. No one expects an average-sized, blonde-haired, big blue-eyed, figure skater to be as wicked as I can be.