𝐟 𝐫 𝐨 𝐬 𝐭 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 𝐬 - pair figure skating romance

- f o u r -

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School was hell.

It had always been hell, of course, but it was even more obvious to me now that I had been away for quite some time. My life had been easier without school.

I had dreaded coming back. There were so many exams I had missed. I would have to catch up with all the other students, and I would have to endure their stares and the talk behind my back.

Also, Flynn and Heather were in my class. So that was great.

Because Fernville was a very small town, we only had a small school with very few teachers. The teachers taught multiple subjects and the people you were in class with were always the same - it didn't change from subject to subject.

Vicky was one year older than me, so she wasn't in class with me. She couldn't be my emotional support today.

Just half a year ago, that wouldn't have been that bad. I had spent all my time in class with Flynn, laughing about stupid jokes and losing our minds over mathematical equations.

But telling from the strange way he had looked at me two days ago, I doubted it would be like that again.

I was one of the first people arriving to class and I took my place in the very back of the classroom, hoping to be able to hide from the stares. But of course, the students who entered recognized me.

A few of them feigned interest and asked me how I was. I told them I was okay. I was, so far at least.

Then, I heard a loud, clear laugh and a sweet giggle and started to pray for the floor to give in beneath me.

Flynn and Heather entered the room, playfully bumping their shoulders against each other. They were so occupied with their conversation that they didn't even see me. I stared at my desk and pretended I hadn't noticed them.

They sat down a few chairs away from me. I took a deep breath and decided to briefly glance at them, hoping they wouldn't notice. Right as I subtly looked at them, I met the gaze of two ice-blue eyes.

Flynn was looking at me, obviously not listening to what Heather was saying. He just looked at me, maybe staring, maybe lost in thought. I decided to smile shyly, hoping he would drop his unfamiliar, cold façade and turn back into the Flynn I knew.

But he just looked away, as if he hadn't even seen me. My smile quickly faded. Why was he acting that way? I had seen him angry or frustrated or exhausted before, but he had never been this cold and emotionless, especially not towards me. This couldn't be about the accident, right? What had happened that had made him change his mind about our friendship?

"Welcome to the English lesson, class!" Our stressed Teacher Ms. Grant entered the room and threw some sheets of paper onto her desk. Then, she looked up at the class, and of course, her gaze landed on me.

"Adaria, I'm glad to see you're back," she said with a genuine smile and I sunk deeper into my chair when everyone started to look at me. "I hope you had a good recovery from the accident."

I nodded hesitantly and muttered a quiet "I did."

Ms. Grant smiled and luckily shifter her attention from me onto the rest of the class. "So, as you all know, this is your last year of school, and I want you to do something special. I thought of a project that you're going to do in pairs. It should be a video or an essay about how life in Fernville has shaped and impacted your life. And I don't want any last minute-texts, I want you to really think about this and to talk to each other about your ideas. You will have the next four weeks to do this task."

I looked around the class and saw everyone already choosing their partner. I already knew that no one would want to pair up with me. Everyone had their friend group and except for Flynn, no one even knew me that well. And Flynn seemed like he wanted to do the project with Heather.

"Quiet, please!" Ms Grant picked up a piece of paper from her desk. "I'm gonna decide who is going to work together, based on the alphabet. So, George Anderson and Hailee Bell together, Francis ..."

I stopped listening. At this point, all I could to was pray for a good partner.

"... Heather Rae and Naomi Sean, and Adaria Silver and Flynn Thornton."

I froze. I had almost forgotten that my and Flynn's last name came right after each other in the alphabet. We used to be so happy about it because we'd always get to work together on projects, but right now, it stressed me out.

I looked over at Flynn. He was watching Ms Grant, refusing to look at me even though I knew he felt my stare.

This would be great.

"You have the rest of the lesson to start brainstorming," Ms Grant announced.

I watched as everyone went to sit with their partner. I grasped all my remaining confidence and walked over to sit next to Flynn.

"Hey," I muttered.

Finally, he looked at me. "Project partners, hm?"

He sounded so indifferent. There had to be a way to get him to loosen up. I had to lighten the mood somehow.

"I mean, at least we both now a lot about this town and about each other," I said.

"I guess you could say that," he replied.

Why was he like this? He didn't talk more than necessary, just enough to not make the conversation too awkward. He used to be so talkative around, he just said whatever came to his mind. With me, he used to have no filter - in the best way possible.

I just couldn't stay quiet about it anymore. "Come on, Flynn," I said. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

I stared at him, asking myself if he was joking. "So cold? So indifferent? So distant?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Desperate for an answer, I looked at him helplessly. "Have I done something wrong?"

That hit a soft spot in him, I could see that. He couldn't look me in the eye, instead, he stared at his desk. "It's not... You haven't done anything wrong."

"Then what's the problem?", I asked.

Finally, he looked at me. "Things have just... changed."

"It's only been four months," I stated.

"That's a long time," he just answered.

"Can you not just-"

"Addy," Flynn interrupted me. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's just work on the project."

Speechless, I watched him pull out a piece of paper and scribble some ideas on it with his messy handwriting. The same pen, the same haste, the same carelessness.

So much had changed, but also nothing at all.