Scars On Ice | Charlie Conway

f i f t e e n

Roland met Aspen at her locker after school, his thumbs hooked through his backpack straps. Aspen perked her eyebrows as she entered her combination. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked in amusement, her eyes focused on the books she was shoving into her locker.

Roland scrunched his face up as he held onto the bottom of her locker's door, absentmindedly pushing it back and forth. "You may not be calling it a pleasure in ten seconds." There was a bitterness to his tone that was unnatural and somewhat alarmed Aspen.

"What makes you say that?" she asked as she took a small step back. Seeing that she was finished, Roland pushed the door closed with an open palm. His movements were jittery and gentle, reminding Aspen of a small child. When he remained quiet, Aspen snapped her fingers under his nose. "Roland. You're gonna have to talk to me here, buddy."

Roland made a face at her before allowing a small smile to unfold onto his lips. He tugged on his backpack straps anxiously. "This is kinda embarrassing but... you know that English assignment we got today?" he asked with a lopsided smile. When Aspen nodded, he sucked a deep breath in through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Uh, I kinda don't know what rhetorical devices are or how we're supposed to apply them to poetry."

Aspen couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her as she examined his innocent expression. Her laughter made him smile, but he quickly covered his amusement with feigned anger. "If you could not laugh at my struggles, that would be great," he joked.

"Sorry, sorry," Aspen mumbled through giggles. When she contained herself, she sent him an apologetic smile. She was somewhat expecting him to be genuinely upset, but she was instead met with his doting smile. "So what does your rhetorical device trouble have to do with me?" she asked, though she felt that she knew the answer.

He gave her a blank look, as if he couldn't tell if she were joking or not. "Uh, I mean, you're kind of an English wizard, and also every single essay you've ever written has been a perfect paper," he complimented, chuckling when she rolled her eyes. "And also you're my friend and I need your help?" he finally tried.

Aspen smiled at that, giving him a nod. "There you go. See how easy it is to get right to the point?" she teased, nearly grinning when she noticed the embarrassed blush that reddened his face. It was rare for Roland to get flustered, so his friends took great pride in every single blundering moment. Peter was never successful, seeing as how Roland had been dealing with his idiocy for far too long to be surprised by anything. Aspen, however, found that teasing her handsome friend was far easier than she expected.

"Whatever," Roland huffed. He was clearly trying to act offended, but the grin on his lips betrayed him. He bit his lower lip, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "So? Will you help me?" he asked eagerly.

Aspen studied his anticipation for an elongated moment, allowing his question to hang in the air. She had no intention of turning him down, but she was getting quite the kick out of watching him bounce on the balls of his feet like an excited child. She finally reached over to nudge his arm. "Of course I'll help you, you idiot," she assured with a smile.

The grin on his face widened -- something that Aspen didn't think was possible. "You're the best, Asp," he declared gratefully.

Aspen shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, I know," she teased smugly. Roland rolled his eyes, but his smile didn't waver.

After a short moment, a new expression fell onto Roland's face. He looked as though he had something else to say, but his lips remained pressed together. Before he got a chance to really decide if he wanted to speak, someone cleared their throat. Both Aspen and Roland turned, their eyes finding an awkward-looking Charlie Conway. Charlie scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, uh..." he held up the notebook that he held in his hand, "Elle asked if I would hand this off to you before practice."