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.


59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Harry’s POV

“Can you hand me the box of pasta?” my aunt asked me as she kept her eye on the stove.

“Yeah,” I said and walked over to the counter where my aunt had everything that she needed to use to make dinner all laid out.

She opened up the box of noodles once I handed it to her, and she poured it into the just boiled water. I still wasn’t sure of everything my aunt decided to make for the dinner, but judging how the kitchen island was covered with different ingredients and such, my guess is she was making a lot and going all out for everything she was making.

No matter how many times I attempted to tell her that she really didn’t need to make some extravagant dinner, she wouldn’t listen to me. Her attitude towards tonight’s dinner was that bigger was better. I was just worried what her attitude would be after she discovered that the girl she was so excited to have come over and to meet, she already knew pretty well.

I kept feeling like the dinner was going to be unbearably awkward once she figures out that it was Gabrielle who I was seeing, the figure skater that she knew from the rink when she used to work there. I really wanted to be in my room right now talking to Gabrielle on the phone so we could go over how we wanted this night to play out, but of course my aunt is making me stay in the kitchen to help her and isn’t letting me leave for anything.

Even when I had told her that I needed to go call Gabi, she wouldn’t let me leave, she told me that I would have plenty of time to talk to her tonight and that I didn’t need to remind her again about the dinner because I had just called yesterday to tell her when I’d be picking her up.

“Here Harry, be in charge of the pasta while I get the sauce started,” my aunt told me as she walked away from the stove and motioned for me to go over to where she just was.

She explained to me what to do, and even though I already knew what I was supposed to do because it wasn’t that hard, I just shut up and nodded at what she asked of me to do. A few moments later my aunt came back over to the stove with some ingredients, and set a pot a bit smaller than the one the pasta was cooking in, and set it on one of the other burners that was available.

After another hour of cooking had passed, my aunt and I had finished the pasta, the bread, and the veggies that she wanted to cook up for some sides. All we really had left to do was the salad, and the desert. My aunt told me that I could have a small break for about five minutes and then it was back to work in the kitchen. I really wanted to Gabrielle right now, but I knew five minutes wasn’t going to be long enough to talk right now, and I didn’t want to be in the middle of a conversation and then having my aunt pushing me back into the kitchen.

I decided to spend my five minute break from cooking, in the living room watching TV for a bit. The five minutes felt more like five seconds because before I knew it I was headed back to the kitchen, and my aunt was handing me a salad recipe and a bowl, telling me to get started and to not mess it up.

Ben came in a few times to watch us cook for awhile, but my aunt was reluctant to let him help prepare the food, but honestly I think he just wanted to watch, not actually take part in the action, the boring action.

After a little more than another hour of finishing the salad and adding little garnishes to the desert my aunt made, we were finally finished making everything that we needed to. It was starting to get a bit later now, so my aunt told me to go ahead and get dressed into nicer clothes and do everything I need to do to get ready.

I headed into my room and changed out of my sweats to put on a pair of jeans and a nice button up shirt. I ran my fingers through my hair a few times until it got the way that I wanted, and then put on a little bit of cologne before heading back out into the living room. I had made a stop in the kitchen to see if my aunt was already getting the table set and everything, but she wasn’t in there. I should’ve figured that it was going to take her longer to get herself ready, plus she also had to help Ben.

Since Ben was in his phase where he wanted to do everything himself though, I’m pretty sure she just had to set out what she wanted him to wear and he’d get himself dressed from there. I just sat on the couch in the living room and watched TV for a while while I waited for the two other people in the house to be dressed and presentable to my aunt’s standards for tonight.

After just a few more moments of waiting, Ben came walking out from the hallway his room was in and came to join me on the couch.

“Well don’t you look handsome,” I complemented as I looked at the jeans and the little dark blue button up shirt he had one.

“This shirt is uncomfortable,” he said as he tugged and the collar.

“You’ll get used to get,” I assured him as both of us now just waited for the woman of the house to finish getting ready.

My aunt soon came out into the living room, dressed in a peach colored dress, and had her down which was different from the normal ponytail or bun hairstyle that she always had her hair pulled into.

“Well don’t you two boys look handsome,” my aunt told us as she walked into the living room.

“This shirt is uncomfortable,” Ben said, repeating the same thing he had said to me moments ago.

I’m guessing he thought if he said it enough times then we would let him change into a different shirt, but he could have on a repeat tape and my aunt would still have him keep the shirt on.

“You just have to wear it for tonight,” his mom told him, and then she told me to come into the kitchen to help her get the table ready.

As I was helping her set the table, my aunt was asking me a few last minute questions about Gabi that I swore she’d already asked before. But having worries about how tonight may play out, I went ahead and without complaining answered all of her questions, but kept my answers as simple as I could. I didn’t want her thinking or knowing that she already knew her before Gabrielle was standing in front of her.



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