Scars On Ice | Charlie Conway

s e v e n

"Aspen!" Peter hissed for the eighty-seventh time, the exasperation in his voice clear. The girl carried on ignoring him, her jaw set as she tried to focus on the task at hand. Done with waiting, Peter reached out and thumped the girl on the back of the head. She turned with a look that could kill, the fury in her eyes shining about as bright as they had the day before when he pulled the exact same stunt. "There she is. Hey Folsom, you don't happen to be deaf and crippled, do you?" he joked, causing her to roll her eyes.

"What do you want, Peter?" she asked gruffly, her knuckles white from gripping her pen with all of her strength. If he interrupted her focus one more time, she couldn't promise that she'd have the control to not shove the writing utensil down his throat.

He smirked at her anger -- something he always did because he knew it just made her angrier. Ever since they were kids, he always had a knack for getting under her skin. Lord knows she'd do anything for him, but he tried her patience. "Game tomorrow. Come with us," he whispered excitedly. When Aspen just turned back around, he thumped her again. She all but slammed her pen onto her desk this time, fighting back the urge to strangle the boy behind her. He just grinned. "Please? Rollie and I want you there."

"I also want you there," his seat partner chimed in, a broad smile on her face.

Aspen sighed, "I already told you -- all three of you -- that I have to study. Sorry Con. I'd love to support, but I've really gotta brush up on this chapter." A deep frown fell onto the girl's pretty face. Peter did his best to mimic it, but it was far less charming on his face. Aspen rolled her eyes. "Peter, you look like a sick dog."

Peter grimaced for real before sticking his tongue out at her. Connie let out an over-exaggerated sigh, causing Aspen to give her a pointed look before turning back to her French work. When she had turned around, Peter lowered his voice. "Told you. When Hops sets her mind to something, there's no changing it," he murmured, causing Connie to frown.

"Well I'm sorry if I don't plan on heeding advice from someone who didn't know my name after two weeks of sitting next to each other," she snarked scornfully.

Peter held up his palms innocently. "Not my fault! It's not like I ever talked to you!" he defended, though his argument lost all effectiveness when the girl brushed it off without effort.

Connie tapped her fingers against her desk, her eyes curiously wandering to the back of Aspen's head. She really wanted her new friend there, mainly because she wanted her to support the jv team over the varsity team. She knew her brothers played for varsity, and for that reason, her choosing to come to the jv game when she hadn't gone to the varsity game carried a symbolic weight.

Also, she just liked having a friend in the stands.

She hummed quietly to herself, her thoughts whirring. Finally, a small smile pressed onto her lips, and she gave Peter a mischievous wink. "I have another trick up my sleeve."

x--

That "trick" was dirty and uncalled for and entirely not fair. Aspen had heard the girl say it in class, and while she hadn't a clue at the time what it could've been, she figured that the boy standing beside her locker was a pretty big indication.

Aspen had to literally shove his shoulder away from her lock in order to enter her combination. "What're you loitering for, Charlie?" she asked tiredly, not able to look into his eyes. Was Connie a mind reader, or had Aspen really been that bad at concealing her blush around him?

"Connie says you're not coming to the game tomorrow," he hummed, his eyes intently watching her every move. Aspen wanted to melt under his gaze. Did he know what he was doing, or was he just naturally good at this? No boy was supposed to make her that jittery. Yet here he was.