Page 25 of My Last Dance
“B-blue icee,” he answered with a gulp.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But more than anything, I wantedrevenge.
He ran down the steps to me. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean for itto be—”
“Truce. Off.” I hissed.
His throat bobbed with a swallow.
I pushed past him, but he grabbed my wrist and tugged me back. “We weren’t aiming for you, I swear.” He shook his head.
I yanked my arm away. I didn’t believe him for a second. “Yeah, you were.”
“No, I wasn’t!” he burst out desperately.
“You know what’s worse than being a dick, Dick?” I spat. “Being a liar.”
“Oooh!” his friends all chorused, making me pause. I hadn’t realized we had such a captive audience until right then, and based on the look on his face, neither did he.
His face flushed with indignation as he quickly peered at his teammates over his shoulder. “Liar?” he asked, a touch louder so his buddies could hear. He bit out a humorless laugh and raked a hand through his hair. “You’re so full of shit your eyes just turned brown.” He gave me an asshole smirk.
His buddies busted up laughing at my expense.
My hands balled in fists. My vision went red. My shaky anger consumed me, and I just…lost it.
I punched him right in the eye.
“Ow! Fuck!” He stumbled back, holding his face.
The crowd of boys started laughing again.
“All right, all right, enough! Break it up,” a trainer said, moving into the circle of boys. “You two!” He pointed at us.
“Me?” Richard yelled, outraged. “I just got punched.
Was he insane?
“I’m blue!” I blurted out, cradling my throbbing right hand.
The trainer crossed his thick arms over his chest. “I don’t care. Go see Hans, both of you.”
“What?” My eyes bulged. “He started it.”
“She struck me! Physically!” he complained, pointing to his eye.
“Oh, go cry about it, baby,” I snapped.
“Hans’ office! Now!” the trainer barked with an angry face, pointing down the hall.
And that is how the two of us ended up in Hans’ office, glaring at each other while receiving our first of many lectures.
For the rest of that week, my pale blonde hair was tinted blue and Richard’s eye was puffy and bruised, and every chance we got, we shared looks of contempt and laughed at each other’s shortcomings.
The following Monday, after working on lifts in the lobby with Patrick, I went to skate-run onto the ice and went full Bambi mode, eventually belly-flopping to the ice. I tried to stand about three more times before I realized someone put clear tape at the bottom of my blades.
At the sound of laughing, my neck whipped to the side.
Kappy was cackling with his buddies while climbing down from the metal bleachers. He winked at me while sauntering out of the rink.
