Confessions of a Teenage Broadway Star

21 » ❝White Christmas❞

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know."
- White Christmas, White Christmas

CONFESSION NUMBER TWENTY-ONE: Scarlett is not at all amused to discover that Parker is a surprisingly terrible ice skater.

        Okay, maybe she's a little amused. But he's her best friend, and she is not going to laugh at him - not even when he takes one step onto the ice, and his feet shoot right out from under him, resulting in him flying backward against the ice with a sufficiently dumbstruck look on his face. Scarlett is determined not to laugh at this, no matter how adorable or hilarious it may be.

        Parker stares up at her as Scarlett skates toward him, biting back a grin. "You alright there, stud?" she asks teasingly, trying not to giggle. They're at Rockefeller Center, and the light snowfall and white lights make Scarlett feel as though she's in the middle of a snow globe scene. New York City has definitely proven to be twice as beautiful as she'd expected - even if she has only been there for a few hours. "Need a hand up?" Scarlett offers, offering a red mitten-clad hand toward him.

        "N-no, I've got it-" he starts, his skates slipping and sliding as he attempts to steady himself, evoking minimal fits of laughter from Scarlett before he finds himself sprawled out on the ice once more. "This is harder than it looks," he states, eyes wide in surprise at his own clumsiness. Scarlett's a bit surprised herself - she doesn't think she's ever seen Parker be anything but light on his feet. She'd figured that as a dancer, he'd be naturally graceful on ice as well.

        This proves to be a terribly wrong assumption on Scarlett's part, as she decides that her best friend would definitely fare horribly in the cast of Starlight Express.

        "Okay, you caught me. I've never ice skated before," Parker admits, holding his hands in mock-surrender from his spot on the ground. "In my defense, we didn't have a lot of snow or ice rinks back home," he points out. It's a good excuse, Scarlett realizes - sometimes she forgets that he didn't grow up in Toronto like the rest of the group had, where wintertime and snowball fights were something they'd always known. Parker had lived most of his life in California, and up until a few years ago when his family moved, he'd known mostly sunny winters. "Maybe I should just watch-" he starts, inching his way toward the edge of the rink.

        Scarlett pulls him up to his feet abruptly. "We've only been on the ice for two minutes - I am not letting you give up that easily," she says, dusting the snow off of his jacket. "If I can do it, so can you," she points out determinedly, spinning him around on his skates so that he's facing the centre of the rink.

        "I don't know, Scarlett, skating's really not my thing."

        "Oh, c'mon! You know you want to..." she sing-songs, skating circles around him teasingly.

        Parker laughs, "Why do you want to teach me so badly, anyway?"

        Scarlett shrugs, stopping to face him. "You taught me to dance - it's time I returned the favour," she decides, taking his hands and pulling him across the rink. "And I'll admit - it is pretty funny to see you falling all over the ice," she adds in before skating away, turning back to face him with a mischievous smile about her face.

        "Not fair," Parker argues from across the rink, grinning. "You've had eighteen years of practice. You're already a pro."

        Scarlett crosses her arms. "Oh, you're just sour because there's finally something I can do that you can't," she points out teasingly, smirking at him.