On Thin Ice (Editing)

Chapter 3

“Yo, Hockey Head,” I frown as I glance up to see Duncan perched on the counter in front of me. I try to shoo him away.  “I just cleaned the counter, and you’re all sweaty.”  

Duncan laughs and leans forward, attempting to wrap his arms around me. I wrinkle my nose and dash to the other side of the concessions room, successfully evading the move.  “You’re lucky I’m too tired to stand up and run after you,” Duncan frowns.  Somehow over the past few weeks, Duncan and I have fallen into an easy friendship, something that I definitely didn't expect.  I've never really had friends, so I thought it would be harder for me to make one.  Plus, Duncan and I are so completely opposite that I'm surprised he's patient enough to put up with my moodiness and strings of insults towards him, but we've somehow found a balance.

“You should probably hit the showers before you come anywhere near me,” I tease, gesturing towards the locker rooms.  This has become a daily thing for us - the friendly banter, him sticking around after practice, the rides home.  It all seems so comfortable, and I can’t believe I’ve actually been missing out on this friendship thing for so many years.  I haven’t explicitly called Duncan a friend yet, but he has, and I know that’s what we are.

He lifts his arms above his head, pretending to catch a whiff of his pits. “I smell like roses,” he protests, and I roll my eyes.  “But, you’re probably right.  Laters baby.”

“Duncan McBroom, I know you didn’t just quote Fifty Shades of Gray,” I groan, covering my face with my hands.

*

“Please,” Duncan tries again, and I shake my head.  “Please.”  Cue his puppy dog pout.

“No, Duncan,” I sigh, frustrated.  

He stays quiet for a few minutes, and just as I’m about to thank the good Lord for shutting him up, the word escapes his lips yet again. “Please.”

“No.”

And this cycle continues, just as it has for the past fifteen minutes, since we closed the rink.  Somehow, Duncan thinks it’s a good idea to try to take me out on the ice.  The ice, which I haven’t step foot on in four years, besides a few weeks ago. 

And that’s another thing - Duncan doesn’t really know who I am.  He doesn’t know about my past, or that I used to skate competitively, or the real reason that I know Missy.  He’s under the notion that I can’t skate, and while I feel bad for lying to him, it’s also sort of refreshing.

I have a lot of baggage.  And I feel like if Duncan learns about it, he won’t stick around.  Then, I’ll have nobody again.  That thought puts a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I’m zoned out until Duncan gently shakes my shoulder.

“Vi, you okay?” he asks, worry evident in his eyes.  

I shake my head to clear out of my daze before smiling up at him.  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I laugh lightly, even though I’m so not fine.  “Sorry, but I just don’t know how to skate.”