Equal Ice

I’m a performer, but I don’t act on a regular stage. I dress up in costumes, but I don’t play a character. My stage isn’t one in a theater; it’s clean slick ice at a rink. I don’t play a character, I’m just myself. Sometimes on the ice though, I feel like I’m someone else. Someone who is graceful and beautiful, it’s still me though, just a different side of me. A side that I like much more than my everyday self. Ice skating is much more work than people may think though, and some people don’t consider it a sport. It’s not as extreme as hockey for example. I may not look very tough, but I can accelerate faster than the guys on the racetrack. I take harder impacts than a rider being thrown from a bull. And I handle more G-Force than a fighter pilot. So why just be extreme, when you can be extremely graceful.


23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Gabrielle’s POV

“I can maybe give you a ride, if you want,” Harry offered, hesitantly.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond at first. It’s not everyday that one of the hockey players offer to give me a ride home, then again I usually have a ride home already. I’d never expect one to offer me a ride home, whether they’re new to the team or not. I would’ve suspected that the guys had already told him about everything and convinced him to hate Bella and me just like they do.

Maybe they did tell him, and he didn’t feel like it affected him, that’s probably why he tried to hide when Zack and the guys came over, he didn’t want them to see him there talking to me.

“Um, I guess,” I finally answered.

“Okay,” he said, and he got up from the couch.

I quickly picked up my bag, and rushed to catch up with him. His long legs giving him an advantage as he walked further than I could with one step. I think he soon figured out how fast he was walking and slowed down enough for me to catch up with him. We walked out of the rink and into the parking lot.

“Where is your car?” I asked him.

“Just follow me and you’ll see,” he told me, and just nodded, not really sure what to respond with.

I’ve discovered that I’m usually not sure how to respond to Harry most of the time, and I don’t really like it, I’m just never sure what to say around anyone really. I continued to follow Harry to his car, and I soon realized that he had parked towards the back of the parking lot. I didn’t exactly understand why he parked his car in the back of the lot; then again I didn’t really understand him.

Even if I’d hardly spoken to him, he just seems, I don’t know, different. I guess it’s the fact that he moved here from another country, and things aren’t the same there as they are here.

As I continued to follow him to his car, I realized that I should probably text my dad to let him know that I got a ride. I got out my phone and just texted my dad that I got a ride and he didn’t need to come pick me up. I was relieved when he just responded with a simple ‘okay’ I was nervous that he might ask who was giving me a ride home.

Although he may ask later tonight when we are both home, but at least I have so time to come up with an excuse to tell him. He would probably lose it if he knew that one of the hockey players had given me a ride home, whether he knows him or not, it really doesn’t make a difference to him. Harry finally stops in front of a black Range Rover and he takes out keys and unlocks the car.

“Why do you park at the back of the lot?” I asked him.

“Just do,” he said and shrugged is shoulders as he opened up the passenger door for me.

“You getting in?” he asked me.

“Oh, um, yeah,” I quickly said and got into the car.

He closed the door for me, and then walked over to the driver’s side of the car. I wasn’t exactly sure what to think of the gesture of opening the door for me, I guess as far as he sees it it’s just common curtsey.

“So where do you live?” he asked me as he began to back out of his parking spot.

“Northbrook,” I answered.

“Ah, rich girl are we?” he asked amused.

“Not all the houses there are big and extravagant,” I defended.

“I drive by that neighborhood on my way home all the time and none of the houses I see are anywhere near small, or even a medium size,” he said.

“You haven’t seen all the houses,” I said as I rested my arm against the window seal.

“So if you live in Northbrook then how come you don’t even have your own car,” he asked me, still believing that I live in one of the mansion-like houses in the neighborhood.

“My dad hasn’t got around to getting me one yet,” I told him.

“Turn up here,” I quickly told him once I realized where we were now.

“I know what I’m doing,” he said as he made the turn.

“What about your mom?” he asked.

“She can’t,” I told him.

“Well why not?” he asked me.

“She just can’t,” I replied, probably a bit more harsh than I was intending.

“Okay then,” he said.

“So is it easy to drive here?” I decided to ask him to change the subject, not really enjoying the silence that occurred in the last few moments.

“It was at first, but I’m getting used to it,” he said, going along with the topic change.

“So different is America from England?” I asked him

“It’s a different country so it isn’t the same,” he said in the same harsh tone I had used moments ago with him.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Why did you even move here?” I asked.

“To play hockey,” he stated.

“I don’t believe that that is the only reason that you moved to a whole different continent,”

“Well believe it,” he told me.

I eventually gave up talking to him unless it was to tell him which way to go to get to my house once he made it into the neighborhood.

“My house is just up here on the left, number 4135,” I informed him.

“Okay,” he said.

He drove down the street of houses looking at all the numbers as he drove.

“So when does your dad get home?” he asked me.

“Um, I think maybe three hours, probably longer,” I said.

“Why?” he asked as he stopped in front his car in front of my house.

“He has to work,” I told him.

“Well that’s a hell of a long time,” he said and I just shrugged.

I grabbed my skate bag that I had set on the floor of the car, and got out of the vehicle. As I walked up to my porch and got my keys out of my bag, I heard a car door slam shut. I turned around to see Harry getting out of his car and walking up to where I was on the porch.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Not letting you stay home by yourself for who knows how long,” he told me.

“You’re not going to do that,” I said as I turned back away from him and stuck my key in the front door.

“Yeah I am, that kind of why I am standing on your porch,” he told me.

I just rolled my eyes even though I knew he couldn’t see me. I opened up my door and walked inside, quickly trying to shut the door behind me, but I failed as the door as a foot stopped the door and prevented me from closing it. I continued to try to close the door, but I continue to fail. He quickly replaced his foot with his hand keeping the door open, and he had the door fully opened now.

“I see someone doesn’t want me to come in,” he smirked.

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