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.


35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Harry’s POV

I was beyond nervous to go pick Gabrielle up for tonight. When I did get to her house, and she came out, I felt that my nervousness was just radiating off me. She didn’t seem to notice though, then again even if she did notice she probably wouldn’t have said anything. So as I far as I know she didn’t notice how nervous I was, and I was trying my best not to say anything stupid.

Once we had gotten into the car, I felt kind of bad for asking her to guide me there because I feel like it’s just polite to know how to get to the place especially since I’m the one who sort of made her say yes. She didn’t seem to mind though, helping me with my phone directions, and then later on making sure I stayed on the correct side of the road.

Most the ride to the restaurant was quiet expect for the radio and me asking her every now and then if I was still going the right way. Granted she would probably tell me the moment that I was off track, but it just felt better asking.

Plus at the moment that was the only way I could think up a way to start a conversation. I figured out after awhile though that she was going to leave it all to me to start the talking, which I guess is understandable. I could start talking if I really wanted to, but I was worried if I started the topics that I had planned in my head, I would run out of things to say when we got to the restaurant, and that silence between us would be worse than the current situation.

I hoped she’d realized that, although I don’t know, I’d just make up for all this quiet at dinner, and then it won’t matter. I felt on the car ride back though we’d have more to say because we would’ve already been talking to each other for close to an hour and would be better acquainted and able to talk about random things more. We eventually arrived at the restaurant, and I was so relieved when we did.

I found a place to park, and I tried to find a place towards the front of the lot for her sake just in case she didn’t want to walk from the back. However, there weren’t any parking spots available in the front, so to my luck, I got to park in the back of the lot. She handed me my phone back, and I slipped it in my pocket along with my keys as I got out of the car.

“Why do you always park at the back of the lot?” she asked me as we began walking up to the entrance.

“Well there wasn’t really anywhere else to park,” I told her and put my hand out to show her all the filled spots ahead of us.

“Well I know that, but I mean just in general. I see your car when I’m leaving the rink, and it’s always in the same spot in the last row. Even when you park at my house, you park across the street instead of in the driveway,” she stated.

“Just a habit I’ve picked up from my dad I guess,” I shrugged.

“I don’t understand it,” she said.

“I think for the most part, my dad just says it’s a small, easy exercise to work into your daily life,” I informed her.


“Well if you park as far as you can, you have to walk a longer distance, that’s basically all there is to it,” I explained.

“I guess that makes since,” she shrugged.

I was tempted to talk more on the subject, but I felt it was best just to leave it where it was at once we had arrived at the doors. I quickly stepped up to the doors before she could and grabbed one of the brass handles and had her walk in. I followed behind once she was in, letting the door close behind me. When I was inside, and I took in my surrounding, I understood what my aunt meant now by it being a nice restaurant.

The walls and chairs were a dark cherry wood, all the accents were a gold color, and each table had a bright white tablecloth covering it. I was hoping that I didn’t need to make a reservation, because if I did I was screwed because I never thought to even check to make one.

I noticed some empty tables, but that didn’t mean they weren’t reserved, I could only hope that they weren’t. I walked with Gabrielle up to the podium, and told the hostess how many. She nodded at what I told her, and grabbed two menus and told us to follow her. I was surprised with how easy that was, and I couldn’t begin to describe how thankful I was.

I realized that this restaurant wasn’t as high class as it looked, but it still didn’t look cheap. I’m sure Gabrielle would’ve told me in the first place if I needed to make a reservation when she figured that I would be going by myself.

The hostess soon stopped at a table and set the menu down on either side of the table. She told us that our waiter would be with us momentarily. We thanked her as we sat down, and I picked up my menu to decide what I wanted to drink first. Normally I would just go with water, but I still wanted to see what other options they had here.

“The raspberry lemonade and peach tea are really good,” Gabrielle told me, only glancing up from her menu.

I found them both on the drink menu, and decided that the peach tea sounded good right now.

“Do you want an appetizer?” I asked her.

“Do you want one?” she asked, and I wasn’t prepared for that response.

I didn’t really think about whether I wanted one or not, I just asked her and was going to go with that answer.

“I don’t know,” I told her.

“Well let me know when you do know,” she smiled, and looked back down at her menu.

I decided to look at what the options for the appetizers even were before I decided if I wanted one of not. I looked through them all, and I didn’t know what half of them were, even after I read the descriptions, I still didn’t know what some of them were.

“I don’t think I want an appetizer,” I eventually told her.

“Okay,” she said just as a waiter approached the table.

“Can I start you off with something to drink?” he asked us once he had our attention.

Gabrielle and I both ended up ordering the peach tea, and the waiter wrote down our order. He told us he’d be right back, and he’d give us time to decide what we wanted to eat.



“I never thought that would taste so good,” I told Gabrielle as we walked out of the restaurant.

“I told you,” she laughed.

When I couldn’t decide what I wanted to eat, Gabrielle had kept telling me just to get the toasted ravioli. To me it had sounded pretty gross, and I didn’t really wanted to get it if I might’ve not liked it, because it wasn’t cheap.

She kept convincing me to get it though because she claimed it was really good, and I had eventually given in when the waiter had came back and I had nothing else that I could order without just picking something random on the menu. To my surprise though, Gabrielle was right and the ravioli was very, very good.

“Well I’m sorry but it sounded gross,” I told her.

“I still don’t understand how it sounds gross,” she said, and we were back on the discussion we were having back inside the restaurant.

“Ravioli isn’t toasted,” I stated, “It just isn’t normal,”

“Well it is toasted, and you just ate it,” she reminded me.

“Yeah whatever,” I said, and she laughed.

The sound of her laugh I’ve discovered is contagious, I could not get enough of the sound during dinner. We continued to talk more as we walked across the parking lot and made our way to my car. I was a bit upset once I realized that we were walking to my car, meaning that the night was almost over, and I really didn’t want it to end.

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