On Thin Ice (Editing)

Chapter 7

Hey guys, it’s been a while - if you don’t remember very much of this story, I would strongly suggest going back and reading the other chapters.

Dedicated to Deidra because she is wonderful (and because she always likes my answers on ask.fm, haha) <3

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“Here’s your change,” I say with a forced smile, handing the coins over to a particularly snobby ice brat.  She sticks her tongue out and grabs her corn dog before running back to her group of friends who are giggling obnoxiously.

“You’re getting better at that,” a voice says from beside me and I glance up to see Missy grinning.  I raise my eyebrows in question, and she nods her head towards the kids.  “At dealing with customers.  You’re not nearly as cranky as usual.”

“Oh, I still am,” I tell her.  “But you told me I’m not allowed to threaten to skin children alive with a cheese grater anymore.”  She goes off on some rant about how that’s probably illegal, not to mention sick and twisted, but I tune her out as I eye the large stack of papers in her hand.  “What’s that?”

She frowns at being cut off but slips the packet towards me.  “Registration papers,” Missy tells me excitedly.  “I just need you to sign a few things, and then we can send them off.”

I pull a pen out of my bag and sign my name on all the necessary pages.  I’m about to say something about the competition when Duncan walks up, hoisting himself onto the counter with an easy grin.  “Off the counter,” I demand, frowning at him.  I just cleaned it ten minutes ago.

“What’s the magic word?” Duncan teases in a sing-song voice.

“Off the counter,” Missy snaps, repeating my command from before.

This time, Duncan is quick to scramble off the counter, putting several feet between himself and Missy.  “Yes ma’am,” he mumbles nervously.  I make a mental note to high five Missy later.  Despite her petite frame, she can be unbelievably scary, as demonstrated by Duncan’s timidness at her tone.  “Practice starts in two minutes - all the guys are down in rink four.”

It takes me a moment, but as soon as I remember, I spring into action.  “Shit, I need to go change,” I say in a rush.  “Duncan, go grab a pair of skates for me.  Missy, can you take over my shift until Parker arrives for his?  He’s supposed to be here in like, five minutes.  Thanks.”

Hoisting my bag onto my shoulder, I rush to the locker room, not waiting for either of their responses.  After I’m inside, I throw all my stuff down onto a bench, stripping down to my undergarments in record time.  Although my work uniform isn't exactly formal, it’s definitely not comfortable to skate in.  Pulling on a sports bra, I step into a pair of tights while simultaneously trying to pull my hair back into a bun.  I grab an old practice costume - a black leotard two sizes too tight - and squeeze into it before dressing in a pair of Soffe shorts and a thin jacket over it.

I stash my bag in an empty locker before dashing back out of the locker room, where Duncan is waiting for me with a pair of skates.  Together we run over to the right rink, a few minutes late, and sit down to lace up our skates before stepping out onto the ice.