Where Promises Must Glide

10 - Juliette

My water bottle is probably the only satisfaction I find after yelling at the top of my lungs, and instructing a class of nine to eleven year olds. I can deal with one kid—most of the time that being my own—but fifteen. That's fifteen to many.

I probably demonstrated the same trick at least ten times.

Never have I thought I'd be a good teacher—in any subject honestly. At school, I was always bored, just wanting to be anywhere but there. Not that I wasn't smart. But I hated most of my teachers. I learned quickly that I'd suck at a teacher.

But, when you become an adult. And you have a child who needs food and a roof over their head, you have to put personal reasons behind and sacrifice your dignity to demonstrate a needle five times a second because someone forgot to pay attention—or another didn't catch how your hands should be placed.

"So when I said to 'get some dick' I didn't expect it to also show up to your practice," Steph says, coming over to me as the last of the kids file out. I have another class starting shortly after this one ended, getting a break to just breathe and drink some water.

"I didn't have sex with him," I tell her, trying to act like an adult when she is sounding like a college girl. I shook my head at her surprise, her face twisting like she ate something sour.

"Seriously!" She practically screams, before lowering her voice. "You have that gorgeous specimen of a man sitting right there, playing dolls with your daughter might I add, and you didn't fuck him?!" Her accent was peaking in every word she spoke. Some days I forget she is grown, and much older than me. But the girl definitely was the life of the party when she was younger,

I shake my head again. "It's called having decency. My daughter sleeps in the room beside the one he stayed in. I wasn't going to fuck someone while my daughter is home, I never have done that." It is true.

Every time I've had a date or someone over, I've always had her staying with her friends or something. Or she will come home once we've finished, so all she comes home to is a random man leaving—sometimes never even getting to see the person.

It is much less than anyone thinks—probably twice a month. But Ophelia has already made a nickname for these suitors. "I still say your insane," she shook her head in disapproval, before leaving me to the second class of the day.

This time, it was much easier since I had someone to split the work with. But the class was much bigger—which for some reason felt like it could be slightly better. "Ok kids, who here has ice skates before?" I begin with the question I've asked at least ten times this week.

>>><<<

I probably hate this more than competitions. Even though competitions are annoying and stressful, and extremely painful and frustrating, especially boring. Nothing compares to this. I can't handle kids. Never have I been good with big groups of them.

My mom even had to live with me for the first year of Ophelia's life because I couldn't handle a child at twenty. But I made due. I got hundreds of jobs, still continued ice skating in smaller competitions since, you know, your ego kinda gets shattered when you get rejected from the Olympics—after being invited a year before.

"Class over, see everyone next week," the girl who had been helping me out finally says. I was self taught in all of this. Watching videos online on how to perfect my technique, going to the rink by house every Saturday for five dollar skate night to practice everything I've learned online. So I never really know how to explain any of the tricks or moves, just kind of winging it.

When I step to the side, cleaning off my blades and putting the guards on once all the ice is off, I take my long waited break. I notice Ophelia sucked into her drawing, which happens to be on Theo's arm once again, watching them, I couldn't hold back my smile.

Steph is to busy teaching a one-on-one lesson to come and make snarky comments about losing my chance at amazing sex. I was sitting in the seating area for hockey players during games—since this was also a hockey arena for the local team.

I was still trying to catch my breath when someone's voice caught me off guard. "Looking good out there, Jules," and then the voice caught me even more off guard.

"And what do I owe the pleasure, Daniel?" I tilt my head in sarcasm, gritting my teeth when his name fell out of my mouth. Daniel has been a constant annoyance to me for less than a year. But, I could never do anything or say anything since his family owned most of the arenas in the area—including the one I sat in right now.

"Just wanted to tell you, you're still looking sexy as fuck out there," he smirked, which made me want to throw up. Daniel ran his fingers through his blonde hair, which he probably thought made it look better—when in reality, it made it look so much worse it was comical.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Fuck off, Danny."

"Sweetheart there is only one thing I'd like to fuck right now," he taunted, giving me a smug grin. I wanted to wretch up my breakfast even more right about now. My hands tremor a little at the urge to punch the every living shit out of his, but not being able to. It was the most painful thing I've ever experienced.

Before I could do anything, an arm slung around my shoulder—which definitely caught both Daniel, and I, off guard based on his priceless facial expression. "Hey babe," the voice said and in an instant I recognized the rasp and deepness in the voice.

Looking up, I put on my most believable smile, shielding the anger and sadness in my face. "How was work, baby. Sorry I couldn't be here sooner, Philly was a little busy drawing on my arm." His whole arm was exposed, showing off the tattoos that would have any woman gawking at.

But, true to his word, there was bright neon over the intricate designs on his arm. I smiled even more, this one actually being less of a shield and more from amusement. "Duly forgiven," I tell him, looking but at him, batting my lashes like the loving girlfriend I was playing.

"So you have a boyfriend and just let me flirt thinking I had a chance?" Daniel mutters, rolling his eyes in an exasperated manner.

Theo moved his grip to my waist, tightening it. "I believe you lost your chance when you started harassing her, especially with that hair cut, sweetheart." I wanted to laugh, but I bit my cheek, holding it back.

The look on Daniels face when Theo repeats his own words was hilarious. "Whatever, she was a hoe anyways. Put a leash on her before she goes after more dudes," Daniel says, walking away.

If I wanted to punch someone so badly before, that was a lie. Right now, I had to clench my first to the point where my nails were making deep red indents into my skin—resisting the urge to slap him.

"How long?" Theo asks, not even missing a beat—turning me where I was pressed close to his chest. His arm was still tight against my waist, but I secretly loved it there.

"What are you talking about?" I question, acting dumb. I knew exactly what he meant, but I didn't want to tell him the truth. That I've been letting this play out for months, too scared or worried to tell anyone. The arena was strict about its guest access, and who taught and practiced here. Steph pulled multiple strings to get me here.

I was worried that exposing Daniel would have me lose that position. So instead, I gave snarky remarks to his grotesque comments.

"You know what I mean, Juliette. How long has he been harassing you, and don't make me find out for myself because that won't be good for either of us." Theo was speaking through gritted teeth, jaw ticking with every second of time passing.

I let out a deep sigh. "Seven months."

Before I could say anything, he was already out of my grip, storming over to where Daniel walked away. I couldn't even yell out to him, begging him to stop, before his fist made contact into Daniels face.

Shit!

This was not how it was meant to happen. Actually, none of this was meant to happen. Theo shouldn't have been here, Daniel should have just kept his provocations out of ear shot for Theo. I can handle him, I have been for the past seven months.

I don't know what type of idiot I was. Thinking that whatever I was doing was smart. I knew since he stepped foot into my home that none of this idea was a good one, but I still kept it going because I'm some lustful ignorant dumbass.

But, right now, all of that is clouded by the roar of people trying to pull Theo off Daniel.