The Unspoken Pass

Nut Over Caramel

Walking off the ice, a shadow of doubt clouded Hope's thoughts. Her previous successes were tightly linked with Ava. Was she capable of shining just as brightly without her?

Still catching her breath, Hope was startled by the distant sound of skates on the icy surface. Curiosity piqued, she approached the rink's edge to see who would still be practicing this late. The graceful figure that met her gaze was unmistakably Lizzie Saltzman — a cascade of blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a fiery spirit to match.

The sight of Lizzie, adorned in a delicate figure skating attire, was in stark contrast to the fierce hockey player Hope remembered. Each stride, spin, and jump she executed seemed to defy gravity, an embodiment of grace and strength. The very air around Lizzie seemed to shimmer, capturing the magic of her performance.

As if sensing Hope's gaze, Lizzie slowed her pace, eventually stopping just inches from the glass separating them. A palpable tension filled the air as their eyes locked, conveying a myriad of emotions words couldn't capture.

Without breaking their gaze, Lizzie pushed off once again, continuing her dance on the ice. Watching her, it became evident to Hope why Lizzie was such a formidable opponent in hockey. Her background in figure skating had given her a unique edge, enabling her to weave through opponents with unparalleled agility and grace. It was a revelation, providing insight into the enigmatic player that was Lizzie Saltzman.

Hope's fingers itched to lace up her skates and join Lizzie on the ice, to share that space of freedom and expression. Yet, the memory of their previous confrontations held her back, reminding her of the unseen wall that stood between them.

Lost in thought, Hope tried to pinpoint the root of their rivalry. Had it been pure competition, two top players butting heads on the ice? Or had it been more than that? Was it a tinge of envy she felt towards Lizzie's unparalleled skills? Or perhaps it had been something deeper, an emotion she hadn't been ready to acknowledge or understand.

Their past encounters replayed in Hope's mind — every shove, every sharp word exchanged. But interspersed among those memories were fleeting moments of mutual respect, admiration, and even camaraderie. Moments that made her question the real reason behind their animosity.

Absorbed in thought, Hope was startled by a knock on her car window. She looked up to see Lizzie, her eyes gleaming with mischief. As the window descended, the charged atmosphere between them was unmistakable.

"Hey," Hope murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

"Heard you made the team. Just remember, keep your distance and we'll be just fine," Lizzie flirted back with a teasing tone.

Hope leaned a bit closer, her eyes locked onto Lizzie's, "With the way you glide on the ice, I'm not sure I could get close even if I tried. But who knows? Maybe I'd like the challenge."

Lizzie's lips curled into a playful smile, "You do have a killer wrist shot, Hope. I'll give you that. It's something you have on me.

What was expected to be a confrontation quickly evolved into playful and flirty banter, the spark between the two undeniable.

Seeing Lizzie in just her socks, Hope beckoned her over. "You want to go somewhere with me?," she offered. After a quick dash back to get her shoes, Lizzie joined Hope in the car, a bubble of silence forming between them.

Lizzie smirked as she got into the passenger seat. The two found themselves stealing glances at each other amidst the silence.

"Do you like ice cream?" Hope ventured.

"Who doesn't?" Lizzie replied with a grin.

Hope pulled out of the parking lot, asking, "So, favorite flavor?"