Chapter Text
The very first day the girls stepped foot on the ice, something changed in their lives.
At six years old, Gold and Funneh were signed up for skating lessons together by both of their parents. Of course, they couldn’t remember their earliest memories that well. Nobody really did. It wasn’t until the day that they entered the rink that a proper memory was formed.
Funneh’s tiny hand held onto Gold’s firmly, not daring to let her go. Gold giggled heartily, her baby pink fur coat tucked tightly against her chest as she pulled Funneh along on the ice. She was, needless to say, far more excited than Funneh was at the time. Their legs shook as they glided along slowly, hand in hand for the first time in their lives. Funneh begged her parents to allow her to clutch onto the nearby wall, but they insisted the two learn how to properly skate. So they did.
Each day they had lessons, Funneh would do anything she could to avoid going. She hated the way the blades of the skates would slip on the wet ice, and how her pant legs would get soaked every time she fell. To her, the ice rink was a never-ending nightmare.
Gold was slightly more tolerant. She didn’t love the ice, but she did look forward to watching the local figure skating team practice each day. The sparkling outfits, their beautiful smiles— everything about it called to her. Gold didn’t fall nearly as much as Funneh did, but that didn’t make lessons any more interesting. Part of her was waiting for her parents to get bored of the whole ‘skating lessons thing’ so they could move on to something else.
This was the status quo until the day the girls were introduced to hockey.
Their parents took them to a local game the day they realized Funneh and Gold were losing interest. They didn’t quite understand what they were doing at the rink on a non-practice day— all they knew was that something important was happening.
As soon as they sat in those stands, side by side as the game began, everything seemed to click into place. All around them, people cheered in different colors. Not in a scary, yelling sort of way, more like a collective buzz of excitement that settled among the audience. Gold covered her ears, but she had a wide grin on her face. Funneh held her friend’s hand, eyes locked on the rink below them.
Two groups of people entered the rink. The audience got louder. People stood up, clapping and yelling words of encouragement. To the average six-year-old, this was, of course, extremely confusing. And yet, their hearts beat rapidly as the excitement simmered down.
Funneh’s eyes followed the thin black disc that slid its way across the ice. Everything moved all at once, the players trailing it with their sticks in hand. A battle began as players hit the ice, the tension on the rink picking up. Gold watched intently, keeping her ears covered with her mitten-covered hands.
For the next two hours, they couldn’t pull their eyes away from the ice. The movement, the energy, the frigid chill that circled the room every so often— it captivated the girls.
By the end of the game, they had their hearts set on learning how to play hockey. Their parents, of course, were thrilled at the idea of their daughters learning how to play. They signed them up for the junior league just a few days later.
And that was how it began.
-
Funneh flicks the brown leaves off her jacket, sighing in annoyance as she waits for Gold. She wasn’t a big fan of that awkward area of time in which Summer was ending and Autumn was just beginning; It dwelled too much for her liking. The grass beneath her sneakers was just beginning to brown, yet didn’t exhaust a loud crunching noise when she stepped on it. Just another reminder that the school year had officially kicked off.
Gold bounds down the steps of their dorm, an apologetic look on her face as she adjusts the bow in her hair. She looks more put together than Funneh, to say the least. She takes a moment to look over Funneh’s outfit; a simple teal letterman jacket paired with a white tank and matching cargo pants.
“That’s a cute jacket,” Gold muses, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Whereas Funneh feels like she starts drowning the second the seasons change, Gold simply thrives. Her hair is shinier, her smile wider. Of course, that could also be because her sleep schedule is much more well-adjusted than her friend’s.
Funneh scoffs, kicking the rocks at her feet. “Don’t change the subject, Gold. We’re running late now,” she pouts, “All because you didn’t charge your phone last night.”
Gold smooths out her golden-brunette hair, completely unbothered by Funneh’s words. “Right, because God forbid Kyran have to wait an extra ten minutes for us to get there.”
Kyran was their best, and technically their only real friend since moving. He was the quiet type, not really interested in initiating conversation with them, despite their persistence. They met this past Summer when their paths crossed at a local farmers' market. They latched onto the poor boy as soon as he let it slip that he attended the school they’d be attending. Luckily, things were only rocky for so long before they quickly got closer. Maybe it was just their luck that Kyran didn’t have too many people he also considered friends.
Funneh slips her phone into her back pocket, breathing in the crisp Autumn air. “Careful there. Keep talking like that and we might end up losing our only friend before the school year has even started,” she quips. Her stringy dead ends are scratching at the back of her neck as she walks. She refuses to ask Gold for a hair tie, though, because that’ll only start a whole nother topic of responsibility that she really doesn’t want to get into right now.
Gold rolls her eyes teasingly at her snide remark. “Okay, okay I get it! I’ll start charging my phone as soon as I get ready for bed from now on.” They both know she won’t stick to that fact forever, but it’s the thought that counts. Funneh simply laughs. It wasn’t often she got to nag on Gold, given her own track record with school attendance. She had to soak in the little moments as often as she could, after all.
They stop at the nearby bus stop as Funneh pops an earbud into her left ear. She switches her music on as Gold scrolls aimlessly on her phone. A smile creeps onto her face as she tilts her screen in Funneh’s direction, “Kyran just asked where we are.”
“Yeah? Go ahead and tell him why we’re late then Gold.”
Gold huffs as she types out a quick response. The bus pulls forward and they board slowly, the girls taking a seat in the back to sit next to each other. Gold begins fiddling with the buttons on her phone as Funneh shifts to stare out the window. She wasn’t quite used to seeing the small town buildings that surrounded the quaint roads of NetherSide. Part of her expected to look up and see the tall city buildings she was used to, despite knowing that the city was long behind her. She shoves the hurt deep down into her chest, for Gold’s sake if anything. The girl never was a fan of simmering negativity, after all.
Her music comes to an abrupt stop just as the bus passes their soon-to-be school. Funneh frowns as her earbud falls from her ear. Beside her Gold coughs loudly, her fist knocking into Funneh’s side. She turns her attention towards her friend, confused.
Gold’s lips are pressed into a fine line as she stares at Funneh. “Did you hear anything that I just said?” she asks, hazel-colored eyes narrowing into slits.
Funneh freezes for a moment like a deer in headlights. No, she hadn’t even realized Gold was talking. Attentiveness was a skill she had always lacked, in all truthfulness. Her face flushes slightly as she looks down at their sneakers. “Sorry— zoned out. Can you repeat that?”
Gold sighs because, despite all the love she has in her heart for her friend, it can get tiring having to repeat yourself so often. She begins playing with the ends of her hair as she talks, “I asked what you wanted to do for dinner tonight. It’s my night to cook, so I figured I’d get your opinions on some of my recipes!”
“Right,” she replies, grimacing. Her stomach was already feeling nauseous at the thought of having to digest another one of Gold’s homemade meals. For as skillful as she tended to come across, the girl could not cook to save her life. Of course, nobody ever told her that little fact, so now everyone that knew her was stuck taste-testing her recipes until they couldn’t handle it anymore.
It was best to keep Gold oblivious. That was what Funneh decided on; at least until she could think of something better to do about it. “We could just get something at the mall later, since we’re already going,” Funneh hums, pulling her loose earbud out of Gold’s hand.
Her friend’s frown deepens. “I guess,” she laments, “But that’s so unhealthy, Funneh.”
She pretends not to hear her as she slips the earbud back into her ear. Her music helps her tune out every other noise on the bus as she watches the town pass by her from the window. She lets herself forget every train of thought swimming around her brain for the rest of the bus ride.
When it pulls to a familiar stop, Gold is quick to stand up and dust off her jean skirt. Funneh pulls herself off of her seat, following Gold off the bus and onto the sidewalk in front of the local mall.
For starters, the mall is much smaller than what they’re used to. Not that it’s lame or boring, just different. Kyran is perched on a bench right next to the main entrance. He’s hunched over, looking at his phone with a hand resting on his face. He clearly doesn’t sense them approaching, because Gold manages to hover over his shoulder silently before he even notices they’re there. She whispers something to him, causing him to jump.
Funneh watches from afar, walking closer as she laughs uncontrollably. Kyran’s eyes are narrowed, the red blush on his face evident. “Good to see you guys too,” he mutters, petulant. He slips his phone into his back pocket, then folds his arms over his chest covered by his dark blue windbreaker. The white collar of his button-up peeks out from the top, along with, of course, a stripped black tie.
She holds back a smile as her eyes sweep his attire. She hadn’t known Kyran for long, yet she quickly had come to realize the boy never left his house without some sort of tie on. It was almost nauseatingly innocent, from her perspective.
“It was all Gold’s fault—whatever feelings of resentment you’re building up, feel free to guide them all to her,” Funneh gloats. Gold rolls her eyes, already turning to walk into the mall without them.
“So I’ve heard. Guess you’re proud not to be the reason you two have been late somewhere for once?” he asks, nudging Funneh in the shoulder. He’s making more of an effort to be overtly friendly with the two, which she can appreciate. Given how they act around strangers, it was bound to have to happen eventually.
She sways as she walks, nodding quickly with a chuckle. Gold keeps walking ahead of them, looking around as if on a mission. Suddenly she turns, her smile widening. “There! Let’s get coffee first before we start shopping!” She points to the little shop tucked away between a bookstore and a comic shop.
Funneh groans, but she relents. Maybe Gold isn’t the only one in desperate need of a coffee fix. In all fairness, she had been up until three last night finishing up a new game. A refreshing beverage never hurt anybody. Kyran shrugs, gladly following Gold into the line. They each take a moment to scan the menu, but Gold’s already starting her order. Kyran orders a mocha frappe with extra whip, which they can’t help but giggle at. He shoots them a look. “I don’t really like coffee.”
Well, Funneh can understand that. She’s up next, so she simply orders an iced chai. Gold is of course the only one who actually orders coffee from the coffee bar. Gold moves forward to pay, but Kyran cuts her off with a gentle wave of his hand. “I can cover it!” he smiles.
Gold tries to object, but Funneh veers her away from the paying station. “Thanks, Kyran!” she says, shooting him a thumbs up. Truth be told, she hasn’t actually brought that much money with her today. Gold was the big shopper, anyways, not her.
They get their drinks quickly, taking a seat at a little table for a moment to catch up. “Have you guys officially unpacked everything yet?” Kyran asks, shooting them a knowing look. For the past couple of months, the girls kept their things unpacked out of pure laziness. It was the one reason Kyran was never allowed to visit their student housing.
Funneh snorts, playing with the straw of her drink. “Yes, Kyran, we’ve unpacked everything already.”
Gold looks at her accusatively. “Your room isn’t unpacked, Funneh. It’s the only room in the house that still has boxes everywhere!”
She had a point there. Funneh had been meaning to clear out the final boxes, but her heart wasn’t in it. She knew what was in them, and she wasn’t quite ready to face that right now. “It’s not that bad. at least I found my old backpack to use,” she clarifies, frowning.
Kyran jerks his leg up and down, causing the table to rock gently as they sip at their drinks. One thing about Kyran, she had noticed, is that he never really stood idle. The boy was always on his phone, and if not doing that, then he was fidgeting as much as he could. He props his head on one of his hands as he leans onto their table. “Weird call to move across the country right as your senior year begins. Not that I’m judging, just curious,” he stutters.
God. His curiosity is innocent and natural, but she can’t help that it irks her. Luckily, Gold jumps in quickly, a smile playing on her lips. “Why waste another year at some snotty private school when you can kickstart your college life early and start living on your own during your senior year? If anything, we’re the geniuses here,” she muses. Funneh sends her a thankful look as Kyran simply shrugs.
“Anyways, what have you been up to, Kyran?” Gold asks, shifting the topic. “Feels like you’ve disappeared on us this past week.”
Though they’re sitting across from him, it’s obvious the way his anxiety spikes suddenly. The table creeks back and forth faster now, their drinks sloshing around and threatening to spill. “I’ve been busy.”
Funneh’s grinning now. Add this to her mental notes of her new friend Kyran; he is god awful at hiding information. His ears are burning a bright pink color as he looks away towards the counter of the cafe, empty as ever
“Doing what?” she presses, leaning closer onto the table. “We’ve been trying to plan a hangout for days, man.”
He tugs at the collar of his white shirt as if it’s itching his skin. Gold cocks a brow in his direction, sharing a teasing smile with Funneh. “Yeah, Kyran! Don’t go ghost mode on us right before the school year starts,” she pouts.
The pink tint reaches his cheeks now. He hunches forward a bit, voice quiet and shaky, “Okay, I’ve been busy doing some extracurriculars,” he grits out finally.
Maybe it’s a bit evil that she’s enjoying this, but Funneh can’t help it—she’s absolutely intrigued at this point. She tilts her head innocently to the side as she speaks, “Oh? Like what?”
Kyran frowns as his gaze darts between the two. Gold had copied Funneh’s stance so she too was leaning forward, her eyelashes batting as she presses her lips into a firm line. They watch as the gears in his head twist and turn, his hesitance going unnoticed. He sighs, swirling the straw of his frappe around furiously. “I’m on a hockey team.”
That… takes her aback. Funneh’s expression tightens almost immediately, though her confusion overpowers every other emotion she’s feeling right now. She sneaks a look at Gold, whose mouth was hung open ever so slightly.
Kyran is a dork. It’s not mean to say it when it’s the obvious truth. In their defense, even he tended to say it when describing himself. He enjoyed watching animes and playing MMORPGs and buying expensive mangas— he practically shut down at the mention of sports! Funneh’s gaze hovers on Kyran for what might be a bit too long for comfort. Underneath all his dorky-black-striped-tie-glory, he was hiding a jock.
Gold comes to the realization faster than Funneh does, laughing with delight as she claps her hands giddily. “You… play hockey?” she asks between laughs.
Kyran ducks his head down sheepishly, nodding slightly as he plays with his straw. Funneh can’t even muster words; she just shakes her head, a smile growing on her as Gold continues to laugh.
Gold must realize she’s being a tad bit rude because she pauses to breathe deeply and collect herself before speaking again. “Hey, that’s amazing, Kyran! You should’ve told us sooner,” she says sweetly. His expression lightens a bit as he looks up at them.
“You think?”
“Well, yeah. It’s just surprising is all,” Funneh states blankly, looking him over. “I mean, you’re so… you.” She points her finger at him, circling his general aura as she does so.
He rolls his eyes, though a small smile creeps onto his face. “Oh ha-ha. I know it seems a bit out of my comfort zone, but, well, that’s because it is,” he says, rubbing his neck.
“How so?” Gold asks as she finishes off her drink. She frowns as she looks down at her cup, realizing only ice is left.
Kyran sits up straighter, a gleam in his eyes. “It’s the only sport I’ve ever done. I’ve been playing for years though, so I’ve just sorta always stuck to it.” His smile has a hint of nostalgia to it, and his gaze becomes more unfocused as he looks down at his cup in hand.
Word so familiar to Funneh, yet overwhelmingly bittersweet. “Well that’s still pretty impressive,” Funneh smirks. “Though, I don’t get why you wouldn’t wanna tell us that. It’s not embarrassing whatsoever, Kyran.”
His smile wobbles as a far-away look settles over his gaze. “It’s just personal, really. Nothing against you guys, of course,” his hands get all jittery in an apologetic way, “It’s just that I didn’t know how you’d react to something like that.”
Maybe he has a point there, cause Funneh doesn’t quite know how to handle that information. Suddenly, things feel just a bit too close to home.
Gold, the wonderful saint that she is, reaches over to pat Kyran on the hand. “Well, your ‘secret’ is safe with us!” she giggles.
Funneh nods along. Kyran’s gaze darts between Gold’s hand on his to Funneh’s amused look. His face is practically on fire as he looks down into his lap. “Thanks… Gold. And Funneh! I mean, thanks, guys. I should’ve known you’d be cool about it.”
She rolls her eyes, side-eyeing Gold’s oblivious expression. If Kyran happened to be developing a crush on Gold in the small time they knew each other, he was doing a horrible job at hiding it. “So, with the whole hockey thing, does that mean we won’t be seeing you till the season ends?” she asks, head tilting.
Kyran frowns, looking over at his phone. “Something like that. It’s a bit complicated, but my schedule is already filling up with practice time,” he sighs.
Before they can respond, his eyes light up suddenly. He begins drumming his fingers on the table, an excited look on his face. “Though, you guys are allowed to hang out at the rink if that intrigues you. My team is pretty cool— they’d probably love you guys.”
A funny feeling weaves its way into Funneh’s stomach. She hasn’t stepped foot in the rink in— well, a long time to say the least. She didn’t plan on ever going back to one even if her life depended on it. Gold’s smile slips away too, her eyes turning downward.
Kyran seems frenzied once he notices their quick change in expressions. His fingers drum faster, shifting back in his chair, “Only— only if you want to, of course! It was just an offer if you’re ever, ah, bored or something.” He sits up abruptly, shaking his empty cup in his hand before pointing to the trash station. As he excuses himself, Gold and Funneh share a look.
“Well?” Gold whispers, her eyes full of concern. Ugh. Funneh hates when Gold gets that look. It’s hard to shelve the conversation for a later date when her gaze is so intense that it hurts.
Funneh folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t know, Gold. Don’t look at me. I have nothing to say,” she states. The knot in her stomach tightens slightly, and she does her best to hide that fact.
Gold doesn’t tease. Instead, she shifts her body toward Funneh and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Hear me out,” she says gently, “He’s our friend… so maybe we should go support him.”
Her stomach drops even more. Not because the thought of supporting Kyran scares her, but more so because she knows how right Gold is. Their friendship with him would dwindle if they never saw him outside of school. And honestly, she had warmed up to Kyran far too much to let him go now. She could tell that Gold felt the same.
She gives Gold a slight nod just as Kyran shuffles back over to their table. He fidgets nervously with the cuffs of his jacket as he grabs his phone off the table. “Where to now, girls?” he asks.
Gold tilts her head at his seat across the table. “Not so fast, Kyran,” she smiles, “We haven’t given you our answer to your offer yet.”
His eyes widen slightly in confusion. “Oh?”
Funneh rolls her eyes, an impish grin gracing her face. “Obviously we’re going, Kyran.”
Kyran’s face slowly turns to relief, a breathy sigh leaving his lips. “Oh. Of course! I’ll… be sure to send you guys the address,” he laughs, “My next practice is actually in a couple hours. If you’re both available, that is.”
She ignores the way her stomach begins to twist itself back into knots. “Sounds good. Just let us know the time.”
His bright smile is mesmerizing as he types something into his phone. Gold and Funneh get up, making a move to follow him out of the cafe corner and into the rest of the mall. Gold lingers next to Funneh, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before she walks ahead next to Kyran to ramble about all the stores she wants to stop by.
Funneh does her best to settle her stomach as the noise of conversation fades around her. She tries not to think about the rink and her memories of the ice that slowly slink back into her head as she walks with her friends.
-
“Cross-checking! That’d be a penalty. Go ahead and reset; this time with less force.”
He can tell Aly is getting annoyed with him by now. Rather than complain about it though, she stays silent and toughs it out. She did ask for this, anyway. The girl shoots him a middle finger from her spot on the rink as she and her opponent move to reset the puck back into its original position. She adjusts her position, amping herself up before she goes in for the kill once more.
Alec watches it all with a bored expression. Not necessarily because he is— in fact this had been one of the more exciting practices he’s attended— but because he’s not really doing much. He sits in the spot in the audience as he always does, calling out orders every so often when he needs to. Most of the time he’s just sitting, scrolling through his cracked phone looking at nothing in particular.
He was reluctant to coach Aly at first. She had approached him, eyes wide with excitement one Friday afternoon, hands clutching one of his old jerseys. She begged him then, something she’d never admit to doing again. He only gave in when his mom insisted it’d be good for him to help her out. Plus, it’d give him more of a reason to be out of the house.
Aly manages to fight off her opponent and score the puck with ease. She raises her arms in victory, the smile on her face overwhelmingly contagious. Alec shoots her a thumbs up as she takes off her helmet and turns to exit the ice with her partner. The other side of the rink is much busier. Figure skaters run through warm-ups, each trying to outdo the other like they’re in an actual competition. Just watching it makes Alec exhausted.
Well, more exhausted than he already is. Momentarily, he runs his calloused hands over the sleeves of his hoodie. His arms ache after the shift he had worked last night. That, counted with the four hours of sleep he had gotten, made him feel as though he could sleep for the next couple of days if possible. What he would do for a simple cup of black coffee right now.
He can tell before it even happens that his peace is about to be interrupted. Right on cue, Lloyd bounds over and slings an arm over Alec’s shoulders a smug grin settled on his face. “Heeeey, Alec,” he says. His eyelashes bat seductively as he looks at Alec through strands of his messy brunette hair.
Alec shrugs him off, though the corners of his lips quirk up. “Lloyd,” he nods.
The boy juts out his lower lip, a look of mock hurt evident on his face. “Jeeze, cold much?” He pauses, a lazy smile returning to his face. “Heh. That was a good pun, actually.”
Lloyd’s always sort of like this. He tends to say things that make the people around him question if there’s anything floating around his skull, or if it’s just an empty husk with one lone cell doing all the work. Alec, at least, has grown accustomed to his easygoing attitude. If anything, he tends to be an outlier from all the other personalities slinking around the rink.
“I’m not being cold. I didn’t even say anything other than your name,” Alec points out.
The brunette rolls his eyes as he extends his legs over the bleachers to sprawl out. “And that right there is your problem, Alec. You have absolutely no sense of social cues,” he muses. “You could’ve at least responded with a ‘hi,’ dude.”
Well, now he could see how others tend to find Lloyd annoying. Alec stretches out his knuckles, cocking a brow towards Lloyd, “Don’t be a dick. The greeting was implied,” he states simply.
Lloyd whistles, palms raised defensively. “Well so-rry for trying to give you some pointers. Next time, I’ll just let you become some weird isolated loner with no friends. I’m sure you’d prefer that anyways.” The words are intended to be hurtful, but the boy’s tone is playful and full of jest. Nothing Lloyd ever says is supposed to actually pack a punch.
Alec stays silent as he watches the skaters. His eyes linger on a girl whose black hair is pulled into a tight bun. She says something to a few other skaters, and though her expression never wavers, the skaters look as if they’re about to burst into tears.
He looks away before she can catch him staring.
Beside him, Lloyd shifts slightly as he leans against the bleachers behind them. “So. If you’re here, does that mean—“
“No,” Alec cuts him off swiftly, because he already knew for certain what Lloyd was going to ask. He had been asking any chance he got for the past couple of months. And, of course, Alec’s answer was always no. He can sense Lloyd tense up and rather than turn his gaze to him, he keeps his eyes locked on the rink. There are a few other trainees entering the hockey side now, laughing and pushing each other around playfully. His heart feels heavier as he looks down to focus on his scuffed sneakers.
The silence must be too much for Lloyd because he sighs deeply before speaking once more, “I wish you’d just come back, man. We really need you out there,” he mutters.
Christ. This is the last thing he needs right now. Alec already feels himself shutting down in three different ways before he can even muster up a rebuttal, because Lloyd speaks up again. “Practice isn’t the same without you.”
His words are dizzying. Out of all the people on the team, Lloyd was who he had gotten closest to, much to his amazement. They weren’t crazy levels of close, but the sentiment was there. It didn’t occur to him that Lloyd would just sit by and let him shut himself away from everyone.
He finally turns to him, though he doesn’t smile. Lloyd’s eyes are twinkling under the harsh fluorescent lights of the rink. He’s staring back in amusement, a small grin gracing his face. “Well, don’t count on anything,” Alec says finally.
Lloyd groans, shaking his head of floppy brown hair. “Lame. James has been drilling our asses this week,” he sighs, “He’s way worse now that you’re gone.”
Huh. Alec doesn’t know why, but what he’s saying irks him. It’s so careless, so disregarding, that he can’t stop himself from saying something back. “So that’s why you want me back? Because my presence intimidates James, or whatever,” he scoffs. Sure, it’s a tad bit defensive, but he doesn’t really care right now.
The boy scoots ever so slightly away from Alec, shooting him a quizzical look. “Look, I didn’t mean it like that—“
“—But you said it anyway.”
They sit in silence after that. Lloyd holds his mouth open as if to respond, but nothing comes out. Alec diverts his attention back to the rink. From the corner of his eye, he can see Aly making her way over, her duffel bag slung over her shoulders. Thank God for her timing.
Lloyd sits up. His brows are creased as he musters up a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Alec watches him, a feeling of regret simmering over him now. He doesn’t have the chance to say a thing, though, because Lloyd simply gets up silently and pats Alec on the shoulder before walking away with his hands in his pockets.
Alec watches him go. He waves at Aly as he passes her, the girl giving him a curt nod as her eyes level onto Alec. He sits up, shoving his phone in his hoodie’s pocket so he can meet her halfway.
Aly’s hair is messy, with dark flyaways sticking up in all directions. She tied it in a simple side ponytail, though her usual bow was missing. She wore her casual pink sweater and a pair of black leggings, along with her matching duffle. She eyes Alec, her brows raised high. “What was that about?” she asks, gesturing towards Lloyd’s direction. The boy was far gone by now, no doubt disappearing into the halls of the rink, but Alec still felt guilty.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, guiding her away and towards the doors of the rink. They give their goodbyes to a few of the attendees as they walk out into the crisp autumn air. A gentle breeze whips through the street, causing the browning leaves of the nearby trees to drift down onto the curb. Aly makes an effort to step on each and every one.
“We should stop by the TeaHouse to get something to drink!” she exclaims suddenly. Her red eyes are pleading, wide and sparkly as she smiles at her brother.
Alec tilts his head, unmoved by her expression. “Not today, Aly. We gotta get home— I have work in two hours.” He’s somewhat grateful his mom had moved them within walking distance of the rink. In the next five minutes, they could get home and maybe he’d still have enough time to take a nap before his shift starts.
She groans, dragging her feet roughly across the sidewalk. “Of course you do. You always do,” she grits out. The way she says it makes Alec feel a bit ashamed. Other than her coaching sessions, he never really had the chance to hang out with Aly. If she had built up resentment against him for that, well, he could understand.
He nudges her in the shoulder as they walk. “Hey, we can go some other time. How about tomorrow after we get your new blades?”
Aly frowns, but eventually agrees with a nod. Before they can pass the next street that turns into their neighborhood, she suddenly stops in their tracks. Alec eyes her cautiously as she kicks at a rock at her feet. “I’m not upset because you don’t have time for me,” she explains quietly, “It’s just… you never have time for yourself anymore.”
Alec’s eyes narrow as he watches her kick the rock. “What are you talking about?”
She looks up to meet his eyes. Despite only being a freshman in high school, she often had a certain sparkle in her eyes that made her seem much older. It made Alec’s head hurt, honestly.
“When’s the last time you hung out with any of your friends? And I don’t count, just for your information.”
She’s being snide, but he can’t really blame her. Under his little sister’s gaze he feels himself wanting to close off even more. “I don’t know, a couple weeks ago I guess,” he lies. “Why does that matter?”
Aly folds her arms across her chest. She takes a moment to silently analyze him, looking for any cracks in Alec’s facade. When she doesn’t find any, she drops her arms to her sides in defeat. “It matters to me,” she sighs angrily. “Ever since you stopped going to practices—“
No. No, he can’t do this again. “—Aly, stop.”
She doesn’t listen. She enjoys not listening to Alec; He should’ve realized that by now. “—You started acting like a completely different person.” She’s staring daggers at him so intensely that he has to look away. “And you never even explained why you did!” she says, raising her voice an octave.
His eyes momentarily gaze toward the rows of houses ahead of them. When Aly yelled, she yelled. For their sake, he hoped they were far enough away to not be heard.
Alec takes a small step toward her. She winces ever so slightly when he places a hand on her shoulder gently. She turns away like she wants space, but doesn’t make much of an effort to get away. He counts that as a win.
“Look—I’m sorry, Aly. It’s all just…” he breaths out, keeping his eyes closed as he tilts his head towards the sky above. “Hockey is a lot, okay? The team switch got to me and… and I haven’t felt like playing lately.” Part of it is truthful, and he prays that’s enough for her.
Aly cocks her head to the side, her expression smoothing itself out as they begin to walk again. “You need to start telling me these things, Alec,” she frowns as she starts twisting the ends of her hair. “I’m not a little kid anymore—the least you can do is be honest with me.”
His stomach surges slightly, but he manages a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me, Aly. That’s my job.”
“Just because you say that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop worrying,” she replies simply. Alec starts to reply, but Aly’s already bounding up the steps of their home. She disappears inside, leaving him standing at the bottom of the driveway.
Instead of feeling relieved, he just feels dizzy again. He silently promises that one day, farther in the future from now, he’ll tell her everything. The team switch, her training sessions, their mom’s financial problems— he’d explain it all one day. But right now, he just couldn’t. Right now, what he needed, was his well-deserved nap.
-
Gold has a scar on her leg. It trails just above her right ankle all the way up to below her knee. It’s not painful, nor bothering, it’s just sorta there; a weird distant memory that imprinted itself onto her skin forever. She never really remembers it’s there until she looks down suddenly and realizes it never faded after all these years.
Right at this moment, she can’t stop thinking about the way the scar brushes up against the back of her platform sneakers as she and Funneh walk through the front doors of the Wynd Skating Rink. It’s distracting, though perhaps that’s what she needs. A distraction.
They are met, of course, by an intense chilly air that hits their faces the moment they’re fully in. Beside her, Funneh pulls her jacket tighter against her chest. Ever since they disembarked from their dorm, she had been acting more reserved. Well, even at the mall she was a bit quieter than usual.
Gold holds her hand tightly as they look around. The rink has a distinct blue and white color scheme, and though generic, it still manages to look shiny and new. There were multiple framed pictures dawning the walls of different hockey teams and skaters, holding medals and large trophies. Beside the walls of photos was a trophy case; huge and gloriously covered in gold.
“Seems like the people here win a lot,” she jokes to Funneh, attempting to lighten the mood. The blue-haired girl gives her a lop-sided smile as she observes the trophies from afar. They pass the front desk, making sure to pick up visitor passes in the process. Then, they step towards the doors that lead to the rink.
Funneh breathes deeply. Good squeezes her hand again, following the path past the rows of photos toward the rink’s doors.
It’s much louder inside, much like Gold expected. Each piercing sound of metal grating against the ice echoes across the walls with such force that she has no choice but to wince. Luckily, she came prepared, like always.
The rink is more active than it was in the lobby. Not too many other people are sitting in the stands, but there are a few. More notably, people are gliding along on the ice rather than standing around. The clear wall that divides the rink displays the two different types of skaters you’d casually find at an ice rink; the hockey players, and the figure skaters.
The figure skating side is slightly more filled than the hockey side. There are a few people free skating, along with a couple kids around the ages of ten and above. The hockey side, on the other hand, is a bit more still. A couple people are starting to gather in blue and white jerseys just as Funneh and Gold enter.
They stand awkwardly near the entrance, not really sure where to go. The noise in the rink is, to be honest, a little distracting to Gold. Funneh has her mouth twisted into a weird sort of frown as she looks around cautiously. They stay there for a few seconds practically glued to the floor before a girl approaches from their right, an unimpressed look on her face.
“Excuse me,” she calls, breaking them from their daze. They turn, coming face to face with a young woman around their age. Her hair is an icy platinum blonde, her eyes a smooth light blue. Gold notes the white skates slung over her shoulder that go along with the blue and white striped sweater she wears. Her features resemble those of a princess, Gold thinks; elegant and poised. Beautiful, though dangerous.
Her eyebrows are furrowed as she looks the two up and down. Suddenly, Gold wishes she had worn her nicer sneakers on this day. “Are you two visitors or…?” the girl asks, trailing off.
Gold looks to her side where Funneh is standing, though she seemingly has shrunken back at the girl’s presence. Her expression looks slightly tongue-tied, and truly Gold can’t blame her.
She clears her throat slightly, giving the girl her best smile. “We are! Sorry, we’re— ah, we were invited here. By a friend. We aren’t quite sure where to go, honestly,” she chuckles apologetically. Funneh manages a nod beside her.
The blonde’s features relax as she bobs her head slowly, eyes still locked on Gold’s. She can’t help but get slightly lost in them— the blue is so intense, it’s kind of scary. “Oh. Alright then,” she smiles, “Who’s your friend? Maybe I know them.”
Gold opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off by the sound of stomping from behind her and Funneh. Blades scratching against the grey concrete floor catch the group off guard as they all turn to stare.
“You guys came!” Kyran yells, grinning widely as he shuffles over slowly. He’s decked out in the same blue and white jersey as the other players on the ice, but up close they can make out a simple fox design etched across his chest. In one hand, he drags a long hockey stick with him covered in white tape. He makes it over, eyes looking between the girl and his two friends.
He places a hand on Gold’s shoulder in order to steady himself. “They’re here for me, Evelyn,” he smiles, gesturing to Gold and Funneh. The former hides her mouth behind her hand, concealing a laugh as she watches Kyran’s legs shake a bit. “Girls, this is Evelyn,” he turns to the blonde, “—Evelyn, meet Funneh and Gold!”
At the mention of their names, the two wave to her. The girl, Evelyn, sticks out her hand as she ducks her head slightly. “Nice to meet you both. Apologies for my initial animosity; we’ve had, erh, a few problems lately with some people sneaking in without permission,” she comments, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face.
Funneh raises a brow, stepping out of Gold’s shadow to shake her hand. “Is that a common occurrence around here?” she asks, amused.
“You’d be surprised.”
Kyran frowns, swaying a bit as he leans onto Gold with one hand. “Well, not these two. They’re just trusty visitors for the day!” He looks expectantly at the two, his eyebrows wiggling between them.
Gold giggles, admiring his uniform. She was glad to have convinced Funneh to watch the practice with her; he seemed so… happy about them being there. He’s more excited than they’d ever really seen him, truthfully. Though, the time he won a free drink at their local boba shop is a close second.
Evelyn assesses them one final time before deciding to take her leave. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was nice meeting you, girls,” she smiles. Admittedly, when she smiles she looks a lot less cold and intimidating. She zips away gracefully, turning into the lobby where they originally came from.
Kyran turns to them, a gleam evident in his eyes. “C'mon, I’ll bring you guys over to the area with the best seating. How much do you guys know about hockey?” he asks. God, if only he knew.
Funneh bites back a grin of her own, making direct eye contact with Gold. “Enough.” She shrugs.
He regards them with an expression as if waiting for more of an explanation, but they offer none. Instead, Funneh begins making her way over to the hockey side of the room as if she owns the place.
When Gold moves to follow her, Kyran starts teetering to the side, clearly having a hard time trying to move. She laughs, moving closer so he can keep a hand on her shoulder as they walk. “Sorry.” He wrinkles his nose. “New skates. They’re kind of tight.”
“Did you try re-lacing them?” she asks, looking down at his shiny black skates.
Kyran raises a brow, also looking down at his skates. “I guess not,” he mutters uncomfortably.
They meet up with Funneh, who’s admiring the plexiglass sheet that wraps around the entire rink. It’s a bit banged up with scratches, but otherwise it’s just as new as the rest of the rink. Speaking of which; a lot more players are on the ice now, all holding large hockey sticks. Gold can’t place most of the faces to a name, though she didn’t really expect to— They hadn’t met anyone around their age other than Kyran and his brother since moving.
Kyran takes the lead, seating them a row away from the plexiglass wall. “This should be good.” He grins, gesturing for them to sit. They oblige, eyeing Kyran and the rink behind him. “We’re probably just starting with simple drills per usual like relay races and whatnot. But later, we’ll be doing a team tournament so things should definitely pick up by then—“
“We got it,” Funneh interrupts, grinning assuredly. Gold nods, watching as the players on the ice begin to circle each other, laughing loudly at something they can’t quite hear from afar.
He bows his head, rubbing the scruff of his neck with his free hand. “Right! Sorry, I’ll— I’ll stop over-explaining the stuff you probably already know,” he smiles shyly. Turning on his heel, Kyran wobbles a bit before steadying himself. “See you guys after!” He waves.
Gold reaches into her bag, pulling out a pair of white fluffy earmuffs. She’s had them since she was a child, albeit they hadn’t been used in quite some time. Now, though, she had the perfect excuse to use them.
Funneh taps her fingers over the side of the bench as she continues to look around. Kyran is embraced with a hard pat on his back by a fellow teammate with jet-black hair, the length nearly covering his eyes. He laughs along with him, reaching for his helmet to go over his head.
Gold nudges Funneh’s shoulder gently, steering her eyes away from the rink. “Feeling a bit more at home now?”
Funneh rolls her eyes with affection. “Not quite. This place doesn’t feel like home just yet,” she remarks. In all fairness, she had a valid point there. Being in the rink gave Gold a feeling that felt as though it was supposed to be familiar, despite feeling far from it. Even when looking past its shiny coat of paint and bright white lights, it was still just a small town skating rink.
On that note, the hockey players gathered in a circle as one boy began going over hockey terms Gold had long forgotten. She took that as her cue to slip on her earmuffs, letting the noises of the rink fade out as she propped her chin up in the palm of her hand.
The practice seemingly went on without a hitch. During the time that they watched, Gold and Funneh cheered on Kyran from the stands, chuckled amongst themselves at the few mistakes they saw, and overall just enjoyed their time there. Whether she wanted to deny it or not, Funneh’s eyes never left the game. She pursed her lips and tried to conceal her excitement, but Gold couldn’t miss the way she muttered quiet words under her breath.
The team tournament began as the members split into two groups. They move into their designated positions, Kyran notably taking his spot as the left defenseman of his side. The boy placed in the center—presumably the captain—yells out a command for the game to begin.
Everything moves quickly after that. An intense game breaks out, captivating the two girls on the side. Hell, even a few of the skaters on the other side of the rink are watching. How could you miss it? Despite her white fluffy earmuffs, Gold could hear quite clearly just how loud the game was.
It’s a bit arrogant to think such a thing, but she can practically predict each mistake happening on the rink before they even happen. Though she hadn’t played in years, she would need more than her own two hands to count how many mistakes she sees during the game. After all, some things you just never forget when they’re being yelled into your ear 24/7 by some random adult who thinks they’re coaching a team on the NHL and not a group of ten-year-olds.
She sneaks a look at Funneh, despite how much it kills her to look away from the game for even a second. The blue-haired girl has a dangerous look in her eye. More than usual, per se. She had gone terrifyingly quiet with her hands clenched around the bottom of the bench below them. Her brows were knit together tightly and— oh, God, Gold knew that look. It was all abundantly clear in the moment; when Gold managed to spot a few dozen of mistakes on the ice, it meant Funneh could spot ten times that amount.
Gold followed her line of sight to the goalie on Kyran’s team. It was hard to see his face with the helmet and cage over it, but she knew it was the dark-haired boy from earlier. She had seen him take the position during the practice. He was concentrated on the game in front of him, though he was slower to move and block. Funneh mouthed a few words of disapproval, though Gold couldn’t hear them with her earmuffs on.
The tournament ends with a tie; a less than enthusing outcome, yet it’s celebrated by the team nonetheless. The captain congratulated the other players, shooting them a thumbs up as they glided toward the end of the rink. Funneh slinks her shoulders forward, sending Gold a ‘did you see that too?’ sort of look. Gold simply nods sympathetically.
Kyran removes his helmet, skating over with a wide grin on his face. His dark hair sticks a bit to his forehead, but otherwise, he doesn’t seem to mind. “So? Thoughts about the practice?” he shouts towards the girls. A few other skaters on the ice look up, as if just noticing the two were there and still watching.
Gold removes her earmuffs politely, giving Kyran an encouraging smile. “It was really fun! You definitely should’ve invited us sooner, Kyran,” she chastises playfully. He laughs goodheartedly before turning to Funneh.
“What about you? You seem awfully quiet compared to usual.”
Funneh’s lips part slightly before she puts a finger to her chin thoughtfully. Once again, Gold can easily predict what happens next. Though she tries to shoot Funneh a look to hold back her comments, Funneh is almost purposely angled so she can’t see Gold.
“Your guy’s defense could use some work.” She states blankly. Gold curls her lips inward, wanting to facepalm in front of the crowd that was currently watching them. A simple compliment would’ve worked just fine; but alas, when Funneh was passionate about something, there really wasn’t much stopping her.
Kyran looks slightly taken aback. The rest of the players, whilst removing their helmets, all share looks of confusion. His curiosity must get the better of him, because he beckons for Funneh to continue. And, of course, she does. “During the first round when the other team was pushing into your section, you could’ve used the left wing lock tactic to prevent their goal,” she motions to the rink lazily. “But, yknow, you didn’t. So they scored on you.”
There’s a weird silence that follows her statement. Kyran is obviously dumbfounded. The skaters stare—either in awe or disgust, Gold can't really tell. She smiles apologetically, moving to stand up beside Funneh. Even if she was right, they were simply guests at the practice. It could very easily be taken as rude for her to say this.
The boy who they previously believed to be the captain moves closer to the plexiglass and removes his helmet. Underneath the heavy blue hockey helmet releases a fluff of black hair with strands of cyan blue dyed in the front pieces. His eyes are a rich sea green, the type of color you’d think was impossible to be on a person. They’re narrowed into slits as he looks at them, no doubt trying to place a name to the two unrecognizable faces.
Finally, he speaks, voice smooth and light against the tension previously settled on the rink. “What else?”
What else? As in, what else did Funneh notice that was in desperate need of fixing, or what else did they have to say before getting banished from practices for good? Perhaps even Funneh is surprised because she raises her brows, even sparing Gold a confused glance.
She gives in, taking the chance to ramble on and on about her notes during the game. She remembered every little movement and play; something Gold was always impressed by. She took the time to say improvements that could be made by each of the players, especially the goalie. When Funneh pointed in his direction, Gold couldn’t help but wince a bit. He, however, didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed by this. He nodded along, genuinely listening to each piece of advice Funneh had to give him.
She finishes, a soft smile returning to her face. “I mean, you guys still played really well though.” She coughs awkwardly.
The captain with sea-green eyes looks perplexed by Funneh’s presence. Gold doesn’t blame him—she herself was captivated by Funneh’s tangent. He looks at his other members momentarily, before chuckling to himself. “Man, who are you guys?” he asks. Though it’s full of amusement, he seems genuinely curious.
Gold steps up, her shoulder brushing Funneh’s. “We were invited to watch. This is Funneh,” she gestures, “And I’m Gold.”
He sticks out his hand over the gate of the rink with no plexiglass in between him and the rows of seating. “Evan.” He smiles. Funneh moves forward first, shaking it politely.
Kyran glides over to Evan’s side, pushing him out of the way to stare at Funneh with wide eyes. “You play hockey?” he asks aghast. Naturally, Funneh freezes up. Truth be told, Gold had also forgotten he was there, watching Funneh’s ramblings.
She moves to step in front of her friend protectively. “We both do! Or, I mean, we did. Long ago though. We stopped waaay before meeting you.” She attempts an apologetic smile, but it’s wobbly and uncertain.
His frown only deepens in response. “And you’re just now mentioning this?” He looks downward, shaking his head miserably. “That’s so embarrassing, yknow. You could’ve told me that before I invited you guys here.”
She can tell he’s trying to be a good sport about it, but his sad tone betrays him. Funneh sends her a desperate look, clearly at a loss for words. Gold bites her lip, attempting to pick up the pieces of this conversation. “Sorry, Kyran. We aren’t too keen on talking about it. Not that it matters!” she exclaims, “Like I said, we haven’t actually played in forever.”
He nods, his expression changing to one of understanding. That allows Gold to let out a sigh of relief.
Evan steps forward, a small grin still settled on his lips. “Well, even so, you guys seem to know your stuff. Are you by chance interested in playing again?” he asks. Note to self, Evan was quite straightforward.
Gold already knows her answer by the time he asks, but she knows his words mean something entirely different to her friend. Funneh’s eyes unfocus as she looks down at the cement flooring of the room. “I don’t know if that’d be the best idea. We’re rather out of practice and—“ she tries to dig themselves out of the situation, but is cut off by Evan’s groaning.
He cocked his head toward the ceiling, frustration slipping into his voice. He looks back at the two, eyes wide and pleading. Darn, his stupid enchanting sea-green eyes. “Please at least consider it; We’re in desperate need of a new player.” He huffs, “Liv quit after her messy breakup with James and since then—we’ve heard squat from her.”
Gold didn’t know who the heck those people were, but she decided against bombarding him with more questions. She spares a glance at Funneh, who still looks uncertain. “I don’t know. I’m not actually that good—“
“—Funneh’s great. She’d probably be perfect for your team.”
Funneh whips her head towards Gold, staring incredulously at her. She tries to send her a message with just a look in her eye; the type that spells out something like ‘sorry! but this definitely needs to happen!’
Evan and Kyran look at Funneh expectantly. She doesn’t offer them any sort of answer, instead choosing to pout in Gold’s direction. Gold swallows hard, addressing the entire team. “Look I—I quit after a few years. But Funneh,” she pulls her friend closer, throwing an arm around her, “She played for years. She’s the best player I know. I can guarantee it.”
If any of the players were skeptical before, they seemed slightly more convinced now. Kyran’s mouth stretched into a smile, the sparkle returning to his eyes. Evan eyes her, a pleased expression on his face. “Sounds good enough to me,” he shrugs, smiling at Funneh. “You in?”
She can feel Funneh’s heartbeat quickening. Maybe she made a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything or tried to coax her into returning to the rink. Maybe any second now Funneh was going to yell at her and run off, thereby ending their lifelong friendship. Maybe she should’ve tried just staying out of her affairs when she knew how Funneh felt about hockey after the incident and—
“I’ll think about it,” Funneh murmurs. Her voice is quiet and still within the rink, but it’s confident enough. Gold locks eyes with Funneh, whose eyes have a thin layer of shine to them. The corners of her lips quirk up, and only then does Gold relax.
Evan looks ecstatic. He shakes her hand again, this time with more enthusiasm. “I’ll take it. We have practice again, same time tomorrow. If you’re free, you can join in the practice. It would help you ease up into the team and decide if you want to join,” he leans in, eyeing the team behind him, “Though, I do hope your answer will become a yes,” he chuckles.
Funneh manages a nod. “Yeah… that’ll work for me.”
With that, the team begins to walk off the ice to go change. Kyran hangs back, looking between Funneh and Gold. “We are definitely talking about this on the way home,” he comments as he brushes past them, still wobbling like a penguin.
Gold allows herself to grin, looking back at Funneh proudly. The girl is amused, looking somewhat in disbelief. “Well,” she mutters, “I guess we gotta clear our schedules for tomorrow.”
Funneh bursts into laughter, the sound softening Gold’s heart. “I guess so,” she sputters between laughs. Gold links her arm between Funneh’s, leading her over to the lobby where they’d wait for Kyran so they could walk home together.
Before they fully exit the room, Gold looks back towards the rink. Figure skaters glide easily across the ice, making a familiar feeling float around her stomach. She smiles to herself, no longer paying any mind to the grating sounds of metal and ice colliding or the silly little scar scratching against the back of her sneaker. Now, she simply heard sounds of a very promising future.