Double Booked | 509 Series Book 1

Chapter 5

I don't even bother fighting him. Instead I adjust my black backwards hat, tuck my pencil behind my ear and walk off to the copy machine. Scanning the two pages of pretty much useless notes from today's failure, I check my watch for the time. It is only 11:45, plenty of time to beat Francesca.

I thank Drew and put my notebook in my little cubby, along with my lab coat and safety glasses, before exiting the lab building to my car. I drive to the rink quickly, my car barely having time to heat up but that is better than the poor suckers who are footing it in the cold and snow. As much as my parents suck I am grateful for my car. The constant gaslighting, verbal attacks and manipulation is slightly offset with the fact I don't have to walk everywhere and risk freezing my dick off.

"You're early," Josh notes as I enter his office to grab the cones. Barb is sitting on the couch, that is at least double my age, wrapped in a blanket watching him work. My parents might have taught me exactly what a toxic relationship is but Barb and Josh have shown me that not every relationship is like that.

"I don't like being second." I have a smug smile on my face as I grab the cones and head to the ice.

20 minutes later my skates are on, the cones are set up and I have already finished my warm up. Francesca bundled like the Michelin tire dude enters through the front doors in a near sprint. She is lugging her backpack and skating bag both threatening to topple her small frame.

"Hey Beck," I yell purposely startling her.

"Fuck," she curses loudly when she notices me on the ice. "The cones are wrong."

"I like this way better, I think it will work better for both of us." It is true though, I am not just bullshitting her, it will benefit both of us to set up cones like this. Tuesday while she was skating there were a few times she almost skated right into the cones, though she recovered so easily you'd almost think it was intentional.

"Sooo," she drags as she finally laces up her skates and steps onto the ice. Last time she was closer to the door to get on the ice but today I put myself closer so I didn't have to tip toe over her tiny potholes.

"What?" I know what just off the evil grin lighting up her face. Her nose and cheeks are bright pink from the cold and her eyes are dancing with excitement about the never ending torture I know is about to come.

"Your team, are they thinking about changing sports? Maybe just wanted to see how real athletes skate? If they need help, I am sure I can find time in my schedule to teach them how to skate if they need, I love doing charity work." She looks so proud of herself especially as my face begins to heat in embarrassment.

I knew yesterday as soon as Bray burst through the locker room door panting, that him and his jolly band of morons had done something stupid. What I hadn't expected, was my housemates to be so interested in the ice skater whose music we picked together during warmups for Saturday's game. And even if I had expected them to care so much, I would have thought social media stalking would be enough, not actually stalking her while she practiced. But in retrospect I should have known better. Of course upon remembering the figure skaters were on the ice practicing, they all marched their asses upstairs to find Francesca, because anything else would have saved my dignity and god forbid they let that happen.

"They were...they just wanted to-..." I have nothing. I didn't think of an actual excuse for why they were there watching her and her team practice. Another mistake on my part.

"Hey it's fine," she says, skating backwards toward her side with complete ease. "Just glad to know I have gotten under your skin Carson."

"You haven't," I protest skating forward after her.