Chapter 18

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"Aleia, I am not going to put on my gear again

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"Aleia, I am not going to put on my gear again."

"Oh, don't be such a grump. You don't need to put the whole thing on. Just the skates."

I heard him grumble under his breath as I pulled him towards the locker rooms at the other end of the stadium.

Twinkling heat singed my skin from the small point of contact interlocking our palms together, but I ignored the distracting sensations with a vendetta and pushed forward.

Get a grip, Aleia.

The tell-tale blue door of the locker room came into view once we rounded the corner and I marched on with a grouching Edrian trailing along my heels with an expression so disdained, he looked like the dwarf Grumpy.

My nose wrinkled on its own accord as soon as we stepped into the sweat-stenched space, the thick fumes dominating all the oxygen in the room.

"Skate up, mister," I chirped when we came to a stop in front of a row of lockers.

Edrian graced my demand with an answering glower - the tangibility of it enough to power a thousand light bulbs. He probably did that the whole walk here and if I didn't know any better, he was a second away from short circuiting.

With a huff, I returned his glare.

"Would you stop looking at me like I ran over your dog? I'm only trying to help."

He didn't budge. Not even a muscle. Barely even a blink.

A beat of disappointment vibrated through my bones, twisting my stomach with the preludes of something like regret. When it seemed like my efforts would only get more glares and resented silence, I sighed and took a step around him to leave.

I knew better than to try to force a stubborn man to speak.

My fingers brushed the cool metal handle when the telltale thud of a locker being yanked open reached my ears. I paused. Flutters tickled the inner linings of stomach, but I swatted them away and peeked over my shoulder.

A tiny, triumphant grin lit up my face at the sight of Edrian begrudgingly shoving his foot into his trademark black skates. I padded on nimble feet behind him to Nate's locker where I'd stashed my own pair in the chances I wanted to make use of the rink.

Swapping out my shoes for my familiar white skates, I shoved my Nikes and bag into the locker and sauntered out the door. The hastiness of my steps didn't offer Edrian the opportunity to back out which, to my credit, was a very high probability.

I removed my skate guards one by one and placing one foot, then the other over the rink barrier, I allowed the crisp breeze blowing over my face from the ice to curl around my heart and squeeze. Nostalgia, as heavy and aching as the thought of home, filled every inch of me and I soaked in the familiarity of the blades beneath me and the ice all around me when it was one of the only things that made me feel closer to home.

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