Scars On Ice | Charlie Conway

t w e n t y - n i n e

While part of Aspen wanted to stop dead in her tracks -- to deflate at the mere sight of him, to stop fighting against the building pain that she had been fighting so valiantly to keep hidden -- she knew better than to give him the privilege of seeing her break. Instead she remained indifferent, even as he attempted a dry joke.

"What, was Penn keeping you captive?" Charlie asked with a halfhearted attempt at a humored tone.

Aspen's expression didn't change. "It isn't being held captive if you're paying 2 grand a year in tuition," she responded coolly. When she met his gaze, she made sure he saw how impatient she was. If he had something to say, he needed to say it.

Charlie let out a heavy sigh as he hooked his thumbs through his backpack straps, his fingers drumming against the black fabric nervously. "We both know I owe you an apology," he began quietly. He seemed to be having difficulty meeting Aspen's silver gaze, a fact that gave her a hollow sense of triumph. At least he had enough of a heart to feel guilty.

To his surprise, Aspen just shrugged. "I suppose that's a matter of opinion," she responded evenly. Her lack of emotion made Charlie's skin crawl.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his brows creasing.

She pursed her lips for a short moment, making certain to keep her gaze steady as she peered across at him. Elle always told her that she had a knack for stone cold glares, but this was the first time she had ever been grateful for it. "I don't need an apology if you don't mean it," she explained flatly. Charlie's face fell, but she didn't soften her expression. "If you're going to say you're sorry, I expect you to mean it."

The blood rushed from Charlie's cheeks, leaving him cold and pale. It took him a moment before he was able to find his voice again. "I do mean it, Aspen," he insisted, his voice quivering a bit.

Aspen bit the inside of her cheek, adverting her gaze for just a moment in order to keep herself composed. She didn't want to fall for that earnest expression again. Her guards were up twice as high this time, and a couple of guilty words weren't going to get her to falter.

Once the silence had become appropriately uncomfortable, Aspen forced her eyes back to his. He was watching her intently, his chestnut eyes round with desperation. She sucked a deep breath in through her nose before she cleared her throat. "I want to know why," she stated firmly. He cinched his eyebrows together, and she pushed onward. "I want to know what you were thinking when you waited less than a day to replace me."

His lips parted, only to shakily fall shut without any response. Well passed the point of aggravation, Aspen crossed her arms over her chest and waited, one fair eyebrow raised towards the ceiling. Charlie continued to say nothing, and Aspen let out an exasperated snort. "Well?"

"I didn't replace you," he asserted, the natural redness slowly returning to his face. His eyes grew wide as he scrambled for the proper response, desperately trying not to mess things up all over again. At the same time, he couldn't help the fact that he still harbored a bit of resentment towards her relationship with Roland. He wouldn't admit, not even to himself, that his jealousy had forced him to ditch his rationality. He had been so eager to protect himself from getting hurt that he hardly realized that he was the one doing the hurting until it was too late.

Aspen studied his expression, wondering if he was going to say anything else, or if he was content with simply correcting her. It was clear from the glossed-over glint to his eyes that he was waging an internal war -- and by the looks of it, losing. Aspen noticed that she hardly ached for the days when she would want to pull him into a hug, to promise him that whatever was plaguing his mind would subside. She was rather proud of herself for keeping her ground.