𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀.ᐟ 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀

olives

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chapter ten: olives

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    JULIE WAS SPRAWLED OUT on her bed, flipping through the newest issue of her favorite magazine.

"What do you think about this?" Vera asked, holding up a dress to her body.

The blonde glanced towards the girl, smiling with a Twizzler hanging from the corner of her mouth. "I love it. Might be a little flashy for an opening party, but it's absolutely gorgeous."

  Vera groaned, shoving the clothing back in her wardrobe. "This is too difficult. I never know what to wear to these things." The girl dragged herself to her side of the room, flopping herself on a beanbag.

"Why can't I just show up in pajamas?" Her voice came out all muffled.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Adam showed up in pajamas." Julie chuckled. She closed her magazine and sat upright. "Normally he dresses nice, but he just seemed so out of it today."

  Vera tried her best to conceal her smile at the mention of his name. She succeeded, letting her face drop instead. "Do you know why?"

"His skates were messed with before practice today." The girl replied. "They're like his favorite things in the world. He got em' signed by Gretzky a few years ago."

The brunette's eyebrows knitted. "How'd they get messed with?"

Julie took a bite of her Twizzler. "Someone pried at the blade and it made a bunch of grooves, and then scribbled Sharpie all over the signature."

"Oh no." Vera fixed her posture. She pressed her palms agaisnt the fabric of the bean bag, leaning forward a bit. "Like- is it really bad? Or could it be fixed?"

  "I'm sure the blade could be replaced." Julie replied. "I'm not so sure about the signature though. I mean, you can still see it, but only if you're looking real close."

Vera grinned to herself. Surly she could attempt to fix them up.

She'd replaced the blades of her skates multiple times, due to her mother not allowing her to spend money on brand new ones.

And the signature? A little rubbing alcohol should do.

"Hey," Julie snapped her fingers, drawing the brunette from her trance. "You in there, Sinclair?"

Vera laughed. "Uh, yeah. Do you think you could get your hands on those skates?"

    HALF AN HOUR LATER, Julie Gaffney and Vera Sinclair were in the academy's repair workshop, Adam's Gretzky skates clutched in the brunettes hands.

Westbrook provided a small shed specifically for mending purposes. It wasn't really a known place, and Vera had been lucky enough to come upon it in the academy's pamphlet.

Normally, players would have to sign up for it, but since no one was there, they got it all to themselves.

Vera slid in the access card she'd gotten from the front desk and welcomed herself in, Julie following behind.