Scars On Ice | Charlie Conway

t h i r t y - o n e

In that moment, Roland turned his head to face her. For the shortest of seconds, a pained expression flashed across his countenance. His eyebrows slackened, and his eyes curved into downtrodden ovals. In previous years, she would have given anyone who spat on his last name an earful. She would have stood up for him, even if he had told her not to. But this time, as far as Roland could tell, it seemed that all she wanted to clarify was their relationship status.

Roland took a tiny step to his right, the movement so minuscule that Luis didn't even notice. Aspen, however, did, and her heart thumped with guilt. He was shying away from her, and while his indifferent expression had returned, she read into his hurt. He spoke before she could. "Did I do something to you?" he asked coldly, his round eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He raised his eyebrows at Luis's short stint of silence. "I just... it feels like I must've done something to you. Otherwise you should have no reason to talk like that."

Luis sucked his teeth, his dark eyes unwavering as he studied the other boy's face. "Guilty by association," he conceded simply.

Roland fought back a roll of his eyes. "Really?" he asked tiredly, his fist clenching at his side. Aspen reached over to rub his arm in an attempt to calm him down, but he eased out of her grip without even sparing her a glance. "Is that how this is always going to be with you guys?"

A light scoff left Luis's lips. "Can you blame us? Rick's made our lives a living hell. Your spoiled big brother did everything he could to make sure we were laughed at this year. And I've met your dad – the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Roland dug his fingernails into his palms, silently praying for some tiny bit of constraint to return to him. He reminded himself of where they were, of all of his friends that were standing nearby. He reminded himself of Aspen, whose doe eyes had only gotten larger as she watched his anger flash across his face.

But when Luis jabbed, "Like father, like sons," he just couldn't help himself.

"For the last time, I'm not my brother!" Roland shouted, his face a deep crimson as his frustration burst from his chest. Several heads turned his way, and while he tried not to be embarrassed, he couldn't help it. He shrunk back a bit, he shoulders slumping miserably. When he met Luis's gaze, neither of them were exhibiting the same amount of angst they had before. Luis looked taken aback by his outburst, and Roland was just... tired.

Tired of being compared to Rick. Tired of living in his shadow. Tired of all of the expectations and rumors.

Before Luis said anything, Zara and Elle joined the conversation. Elle had her arms crossed, and was staring menacingly over at the boy as though she could snap him in half with one movement. Zara, significantly smaller but still a force to be reckoned with, poked at the boy's chest with a stern finger. "I think it's time that you leave our friend alone," she stated threateningly.

Luis's eyes fluttered to the girl knowingly. It became clear in that instant that somehow, the pair knew each other. And from the way he backed down at her fiery words, it was clear that he knew well enough not to cross her. He sent his gaze to Roland once more, his eyes holding a strange mix of regret and stubbornness. He didn't bother looking at Aspen before he turned on his heel and walked away.

Julie, whose cheeks were bright red with anger, let out an exasperated huff. "God. Roland, I am so sorry. He's not usually like this, I–"

"It's alright," Roland interrupted bluntly. Catching himself, he took a deep breath and extended a halfhearted smile to the blonde. "Honestly, I get it. It's not the first time I've had to have that discussion, and it won't be the last."

But it's the first time I've ever seen you that angry about it, Aspen thought. The comparison always hurt Roland, but it never got him that riled up. There was something in this particular conversation that sparked the fire inside of him. What it was, Aspen couldn't quite tell.