Chapter Text
"my hands are tied," your coach voices, hands in the air as he tries to calm down all the annoyed shouts that was coming from the team, "it's not as if this is permanent! it's just a couple of months."
a couple of months sharing a rink with the hockey team.
it's not that you hate hockey. honestly, you don't really spend all that much time thinking about it. rather, its that you hate how they treat the ice like their own personal playground. there is nothing delicate or respectful in the way that they tear up the ice. how they aggressively skate around, unbothered by any chips or scuffs that they leave in their wake.
your arms cross over your chest then, and your head tilts in annoyance, "it's going to be impossible to skate after them," you point out blandly, "they leave the ice in a state of complete disrepair. i have watched a game, i know how careless they are." everyone around you lets out sounds of agreement, and all it illicits is a hefty sigh from your coach.
he tilts his head to one side, cracking his neck, before letting out, "i understand your concerns, but we either share or we don't skate for a few months." the reality hits hard, causing everyone to immediately go silent. "so, we are all in agreement? we share?"
it's your voice that raises up then, "as if we have a choice." a scoff escapes you then, your eyes rolling as you turn and walk away from the crowd. you knew that you should find a positive in this situation, but how could you when there was no positive in sight?
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿
annoyance snakes throughout your bloodstream as you walk into the hockey arena. the team seems to be finishing up practice, which does nothing to ease the irritation that was bubbling up throughout you. you take your airpods out of your bag then, popping one bud into each ear before fighting a seat and beginning to put your boots on.
as you lace them up, another girl from your team seems to make her way in and sits down next to you, "they seriously aren't done yet?," she asks, anger in her tone as she speaks. you offer her a shrug and an eyeroll as you finish lacing up your boots.
once done, you lift your eyes to watch the remainder of the hockey practice. all the guys seem to have taken their helmets off now, and were listening as the coach gave them some pep talk that you couldn't quite hear. it isn't lost on you then how a few of the guys keep sneaking peaks at you and some of the other skaters who were sitting beside you. it's annoying, but you figure there is nothing you could do to stop them.
once the team is off the ice, you and your fellow skaters find your way out onto it. your coach had yet to come, and so you skate aimlessly around the rink trying to memorize the ridges and the nicks in the ice so that they wouldn't mess with any of your jumps later down the line.
it's the middle of a spin when you feel a pair of eyes lingering on you. it's not something that you can know for certain, but it's a familiar feeling. a feeling that causes you to feel mildly unsettled, and so you slowly exit your spin and meet the eyes of a brown haired, brown eyed hockey player standing at the boards and watching you.
quickly, your arms cross over your chest and a look of irritation overtakes your face. when your eyes meet his, leveling him with a glare as you do so, a smile seems to overtake his face. one that just reeks of arrogance. this guy, like almost every hockey player you have ever met, certainly was cocky.
"can i help you?," you ask then, annoyance lacing your tone as you skate towards him. your hands tighten their grip on your forearms, and your head tilts lightly to the side as you look at him.
the smile on his face seems to grow then as he lazily leans his body against the board and looks you up and down, "i was just admiring the view, gorgeous." the sound of his voice causes an shiver down your spine, and you can't help the way that his words cause your eyes to roll.
"right," you say then as you stop your approach towards him, "well, this is a closed practice." he barks out a laugh at that, and you can't help the way your teeth clench at the sound. there is a muscle that flexes in your jaw then as you say through gritted teeth, "problem?"
in one fell swoop he pushes his body up and away from the boards, "you can watch us skate, but i can't watch you?"
a scoff falls from your lips, "trust me, hon, it wasn't by choice," the venom soaks into your tone, "next time tell your coach to wrap up his practice a little bit faster."
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿
the next practice, and there is that brunette hockey player again. you have solo time on this ice now, so it's easy for his eyes to find you. there is a moment in which you believe that there might actually be intrigue in his gaze as he watches you move around the ice. as if he actually cared for what you were doing out there.
"you again," you say from across the ice, eyes landing on him immediately, "have the concussions caused short term memory loss?," you ask, your lips forming a tight line. there is a laugh that escapes him then, and you have to admit that the sound is rather nice. he has one of those laughs that seems melodic in a way.
again, casual as ever, he leans his body against the boards, "my memory is perfectly fine," he retorts with the sound of his laugh still lingering on his lips.
you cock a brow then as you ask, "oh, so you are just choosing to ignore that this is a closed practice?"
his head tilts to the side then and he shrugs lightly, "i never cared much for rules." this, in turn, causes you to laugh. the sound lifting up and dancing through the arena causing the smile on his face to grow. "i like your song choice, by the way," he states then, acting as if he knows anything about figure skating, "and the jumps you do are really cool."
there is a beat of silence that falls between you before you let out a sigh, "thanks, i guess." despite the irritation in your voice, he seems to find amusement in your words. though, you are starting to believe that may just be his personality for he always found amusement in what you had to say.
"you're welcome, gorgeous," he says then with a stupid grin, "i'm john logan, by the way."
you rolls your eyes, "i know who you are," you state plainly. it's easy to know who he is, because everyone knows who he is. the hockey team were popular enough that not knowing them would be similar to committing some sort of cardinal sin.
"and i don't know you," he states then, almost as if he is prompting you to respond with your name.
however, all you can do is scoff before saying, "let's keep it that way," and then your eyes flick around the rink then, "now, if you don't mind, i have a practice to continue."