Chapter 1:
Ice Girl
Honor Bennett
Screeching guitars wailed over the arena's booming speakers, revving up the rowdy Saturday night crowd all around us. But even over the noise, I still managed to hear my boyfriend Todd's lustful mumble:
“Oh, Goddamn.”
His hungry, beady eyes were zeroed-in on the ice girls' wiggling butts as they pushed shovels from one end of the rink to the other. Their short and frilly mini-skirts flounced as they skated, treating the crowd to the occasional glimpse of their toned bottoms.
Todd grunted as if something was lodged in his throat. “Now who arethey?”
“Those are the ice girls I told you about earlier.”
“Ice girls? The heck are those? I don't remember hearing anything about ice girls.”
“I guess you weren't listening.” I sighed. “Anyway, while I was scouring the job ads, I came across a listing for open auditions.”
“Open auditions for what?”
“For ice girls!”
“Wait. You mean you want to be one ofthose?” Todd asked, pointing at the team of girls as they skated up and down the ice.
“Sure, why not?”
Todd looked at me, and then at the ice girls, and then back at me again. And then his shoulders started to shake with silent laughter.
“No reason,” he said at last. He must've seen the fire rising in my eyes, because he quickly changed gears. “Um—I mean—it just doesn't seem like you. You're more of a quiet, artsy chick than you are therah-rahcheerleader type.”
“I guess. But isn't that why we moved out here to Denver? To try new things, and reinvent ourselves? And I havean ice skating background, after all, so it's notthatbig of a stretch … is it?”
“Yeah, sure.” Todd shrugged. “So, uh, what are the ice girls for, anyway? And what's with the shovels?”
“They're pushing all the ice chips and snow shavings away, so the ice is better for the players to skate on.”
Todd didn't answer—he just stared at the girls. And I realized he was staring atonegirl in particular: blonde, long-legged, and lean. I tried not to take it personally or anything like that—because this was what the ice girls werefor,after all. To look pretty and raise the fans' spirits and get everyone all loud and worked up. And they were cute, and yes, their flirty little outfits were super sexy. I knew that. It'd be crazy to get mad at Todd over it. But at the same time, seeing him ogle those girls struck at a weakness inside me.
Because maybe, deep down, I wanted Todd to look atmelike that for once. I didn'twantto be that 'quiet, artsy chick' forever.
So I laughed and tried to play it cool. “Did you just become a hockey fan, Todd?”
Todd couldn't peel his eyes off that blonde. “God. I mean …maybe.”
“She's got a great butt, huh?” I asked. And I meant it, because she did, and I wanted Todd to know that I wasn't this psycho girlfriend who became furious when he noticed an attractive woman.
“God. She sure does,” Todd croaked without breaking his gaze—but then he took it too far. “ThethingsI'd do to her, Honor.”
Thankfully, he knew enough to spare me what things, exactly, he'd do to her.
But still my stomach sank like a heavy rock dropped into the ocean—plunk!And bubbling up in its place was a realization that made me sad: after a year of dating, Todd never looked at me like that anymore—like he couldn't wait to take me home and rip me out of my clothes and have his way with me.
Maybe, truthfully, he never had? He was always in a bigger rush to get home and fire up his videogames.
The ice girls skated back towards our seats, their long, beautiful hair flowing behind them. They all looked so happy, with bright gleaming smiles and enthusiastic hand-waves at the crowd. I wished I could be there on the ice with those girls.All eyes on us.I never realized how much I missed that feeling until now.
Todd's focus stayed trained on the same girl. Her round breasts jiggled in her tiny crop-top, and a silver chain studded with diamonds dangled from her navel.
