Author's Notes: Happy Early Thanksgiving!
*****
Chapter 1:
I glided across the ice, maneuvering the puck with my stick as if I were weaving in between defenseman. Suddenly turning, I sliced my skates through the ice and sent a shower of fresh snow in the air. I drew my stick back against the puck, forcibly bringing it down and giving the puck one hell of a shot. I stared as the puck sailed towards net and smacked it dead center.
"And he scores!" I whooped, throwing my fist up in the air, my voice echoing around the rink.
Realizing that I was going to have to get the puck myself, I skated towards the net. I reached with the end of my stick, collecting it. A grin was plastered on my face as I went back to gently skating around the rink and keeping the hardened piece of rubber situated in front of me. Even though I was perfectly healthy and injury free, I was taking it easy. Nothing too fancy, nothing too fast; just a nice, fun, gentle pace to blow off some steam.
"Is it time to go already?" Stasi called over to me. She skated over to me, catching up once I crossed the blue line to the other half of the rink. Her territory. She was skating around on the other end of the rink, practicing an old figure skating routine that she choreographed herself. She had left me to my own devices, knowing that I liked to go into my own little world pretending to blast imaginary buzzer beaters into the net.
I pulled up the sleeve of my hoodie, checking the chunky watch strapped to my wrist, a gift from my parents. I looked up at Stasi, shaking my head.
"No, it's only 12:32. We should start heading back, though. Just so we're not late."
"Agreed. I don't want to ruin my perfect attendance to Mr. Carson's class. Last one to the bench is a rotten egg!" She sang, taking off for the bench and leaving me in a flurry of snow. I smiled, following her half-heartedly. Even though I was pretty fast on skates, I'd never be able to beat her with her taking a head start like that. Besides, I had a good view from back here. I watched her form admirably, my eyes trailing down to the way her rear end swayed as she skated. It looked almost as if her jeans were painted on her.
Stasi turned around at me as I glided into the Player's Bench. She narrowed her eyes. "You let me win." She accused.
"I just didn't want to embarrass you in front of the crowd." I smiled at her, sitting down on the bench to begin taking off my black hockey skates. "Look how many people are here."
"Oh please," Stasi scoffed, baring her fangs. "I could mop the floor with you in a race." She plopped down next to me, propping her white figure skates on the rest so she didn't have to bend over so much. Grunting cutely in exertion, she reached down, untied the knot, and began to work on wresting the boot away from her foot.
"You couldn't beat me if your life depended on it." I smirked. I reached under my right boot, yanking it off in one powerful go. I sighed in relief, setting the boot down and working on the one on the left.
"You sure about that?"
"Not really." I admitted, looking at her. "You're actually pretty fast. The only person I could beat is Viktor and he's getting better every single day that passes."
"Eh... no. Thanks for trying to make my boost my ego, lyubov, but you're definitely faster than the both of us by a mile." Stasi laughed. "Even though Viktor is practicing like a man possessed."
"No, I'm pretty sure you're a bit faster." I claimed. "As for Viktor, good for him. He'll make the team for sure."
Viktor had been practicing extensively during the offseason for hockey, vying for a spot on the team. He was working hard in the hopes that he'd be able to play on the same line as me, him at center and me at left winger. It was something he had wanted to do ever since he was in middle school. I had seen him played with him a couple of times and he was actually fairly good. His excellent passing skills and uncanny ability to create scoring opportunities out of nowhere complemented my speed and offensive prowess.
All aboard the hype train for the Williams-Sokolov Dynamic Duo! Not the original Chris and Stasi one. I meant the knock-off Viktor and Chris one.
I turned my face back to my boot, starting to get slightly more frustrated with the damn thing. Maybe it'd be smarter to untie my boot all the way before I tried to take it off, like Stasi did... but that'd take too much time and prove that she was smarter than me. I acquiesced on a bunch of stuff when it came to Stasi and I, but I refused to bow down to her lighthearted claim that she was smarter than me, even if we knew it wasn't true.
We both had our strengths and weaknesses when it came to academics. Mine were English, Math, and History. Hers were Science, Foreign Languages, and apparently taking off skates and making it look extra cute while doing so. I continued to struggle with the boot, while Stasi merely pulled her dainty, sock-covered feet out of her skates and slid on her sneakers, which she tucked under the bench before we got on the ice. She made it look so easy.
"You still have the note in your shoe, right?" Stasi asked, once she laced up her shoes.
"The note?" I stopped my struggling with my goddamn stupid I-Swear-I'll-Throw-You-Away boot to blindly feel under my seat for my shoes. Feeling the cloth with my fingers, I latched onto them and pulled them out of their hiding spot. Sure enough, the piece of yellow paper was still safely in it's hiding spot. "Yeah, it's right here."
The paper in question was a handwritten note from Principal Finch. It was a permission slip allowing Stasi and I to hang out in the Belcourt High School Hockey Rink during lunch. The hockey rink had gotten refurbished during the fall and was ready for the season. It was certainly one to behold, seating a total of 3,000 occupants, not counting the few suites. It was affectionately nicknamed the Labyrinth, after the legend of Thesaurus and the Minotaur... or was it Theseus? Thesis? Thesi?
Anyways, Stasi and I had to get the note to deter the anti-monster attack dog/Monster-Student Resource Officer from giving us a detention for "sneaking around and trespassing" during lunch. In normal schools, like at Jefferson, we had Student Resource Officers, police officers assigned to the school. At Belcourt, we had M-SROs. The M-SRO was police officers assigned to schools by the government. Ironically, despite their name, they were all humans. I'm absolutely certain that our M-SRO had it out for me, even though I was a human.
You might ask why we preferred to go into the hockey rink by ourselves when we could be with our friends. In truth, we didn't. We absolutely loved our friends and loved to hang out with them, but Stasi and I never got to have any intimate time these days to be what we were, best friends. Between the often-conflicting busy schedules we currently possessed at this time of year, our private alone time was few and far in between, so I was taking all I could get. Even if alone time meant having lunch and skating around in an empty hockey rink with each other, I'd cherish it regardless. We were doing something we both loved.
"Yeah, it's right here." I said, unfolding it to make sure I had the right note and not some piece of paper that magically appeared in my shoe.
Sure enough, Principal Finch's neat and orderly handwriting stared back at me. I was slightly envious of how nice it looked. I had terrible handwriting, which made it difficult for people to help me with my written assignments, specifically Lucy, who always complained that my paper looked as if a 'chicken had marked it up.'
"Good. I don't want Officer Jenkins to give us another detention with Mr. Durant." Stasi made a face.
"Oh come on, Mr. Durant isn't that bad." I replied diplomatically, not sure where her dislike of Mr. Durant came from. I liked him.
"He isn't. I love him." She laughed.
"I thought you always loved me." I said in mock hurt. "Now you're telling me you love someone else?"
"You know what I meant, lyubov." She said, leaning in and giving me peck on the lips. "Detentions are just a waste of time, is all. Even with Mr. Durant."
The feeling on detentions and Mr. Durant was mutual. Detention was more of a glorified free period or afternoon study hall, except you couldn't talk, you couldn't text, and you couldn't listen to music. You just had to do work and hope time flew by. When Stasi and I were given detention by Officer Jenkins for our first offense of "trespassing", despite having been granted access by Principal Finch, we were sent to Mr. Durant, a tall harpy who taught global studies.
Principal Finch would've waived our detention had the M-SRO not been adamant that Principal Finch was undermining her authority, seeing that we didn't have any written proof that we were allowed to go outside of the designated areas during lunch. In the eyes of the M-SRO, we were breaking the rules of the school and had to be punished. With Principal Finch's hands tied, we were forced to waste our day and go to Mr. Durant's classroom.
I wasn't sure what Stasi was expecting when she and I walked into his empty classroom. I, personally, was expecting some kind of teacher who resembled an officer of the Gestapo in terms of strictness.
What we found instead was something way more fun. Instead of spending the hour after school doing our homework silently and praying for the time to go by fast as we had planned, we instead spent our "detention" after school talking about anything and everything. From videogames to movies to current events to our opinions on the DTOSA, no stone was left unturned. We left his classroom far more later than we expected and promised we'd come back to visit, without the detention of course.
Satisfied that I didn't have any competition when it came to Stasi's heart, I turned back to my boot, tugging at it with renewed vigor. Stasi watched with amusement.
"Why don't you try and do something like... untie it?" She inquired.
