Before the sun cast its first light over the horizon, Ava was already in the warmth of her kitchen, whisking and folding, her hands skillfully crafting strawberry cream puffs and chocolate croissants. She imagined the smiles these pastries would bring to Fred and his teammates, worn from their relentless practice sessions at the school's ice rink in preparation for the state-level hockey championship. They were pouring their hearts into a grueling schedule—eight in the morning until noon, and four in the afternoon until evening.
Sympathy stirred in Ava as she thought of their dedication and fatigue. She wanted to offer a small gesture of support, a token of sweetness to lift their spirits. With care, she packaged the freshly baked goods and made her way to the school, arriving just past eight.
The ice rink was quiet, save for the sound of Fred, alone on the ice, practicing his shots with a determined intensity. Ava paused at the edge of the rink, captivated by the sight of Fred in his element. His hockey uniform clung to him in all the right places, accentuating the lean muscles that worked with each powerful stride. There was an undeniable allure in his focused demeanor, the way his hair, damp from exertion, peeked out from under his helmet, and how his breath misted in the cold air with every calculated exhale.
With each slap of the puck, he moved with a natural, practiced ease, a smooth glide over the ice that made the difficult look effortless. His movements were sharp and precise, the kind that came from innate talent honed by uncountable hours of dedication. The ice was his domain, and he was its undisputed master, exuding a cool confidence that was nothing short of magnetic.
The puck flew from his stick to the goal net with a speed and accuracy that spoke of raw talent and disciplined training. Fred's presence on the ice was electric, the sheer power and agility with which he played left no doubt of his proficiency in the game. He was the kind of player who drew eyes without trying—the epitome of cool in the world of high school hockey.
Moving silently to avoid interrupting, she accidentally dropped her phone with a clatter that reverberated against the glass and ice.
"Good morning, beautiful!" Fred called out, flashing a grin as he glided over, the smooth blades of his skates cutting a path to her. "When did you get here?"
Ava offered a smile, soft and a little shy. "Just now. I hope I didn't interrupt your focus," she said, her eyes briefly meeting his before skimming the empty rink. "Where's the rest of the team?"
Fred shrugged, a casual grace in his movements as he stopped at the gate and unlatched it to join her. "You? A disturbance? Never," he said, his tone light, the warmth in his eyes belying the joke. "They're dragging their feet today, won't be here till nine. They're wiped out from last night's practice. I guess sleep was too tempting for them." He chuckled, a sound that filled the space with ease.
"What brings you here?"
Ava, flushed from the unintended entrance, returned his smile. "I just thought... you guys could use some treats after all the hard work you've been putting in." She motioned to the boxes she'd brought.
Fred's eyes gleamed with delight as he peered into the boxes. "You didn't... is that...?" He trailed off, hope coloring his tone.
With a nod, Ava opened the boxes fully, revealing the pastries arranged like jewels inside. "Your favorites," she confirmed. "Strawberry cream puffs and chocolate croissants."
Fred's eyes lit up like the morning sun glinting off fresh ice as he savored the homemade pastries. "Ava, these are amazing," he exclaimed after taking a bite, his appreciation evident in the way he closed his eyes, savoring the taste. "You've really outdone yourself. They're perfect—flaky, just the right amount of sweetness, and the strawberries are so fresh!"
Ava beamed at the compliment, watching him enjoy the treats. "I'm glad you like them. I started baking at five this morning to make sure everything was fresh."
"You know," Fred said between bites, "you could totally open your own patisserie. I bet it would be a hit. Everyone would come from all over just to taste these."
"Maybe," Ava said with a hint of a dream in her voice. "But until then, I'll settle for being the unofficial team baker."
"Whatever you say, but just know I'd be your first customer. And hey," Fred added with a spark of excitement in his eyes, "when you do decide to open one, I'll design it for you. It'll be the coolest patisserie in town, with the best cream puffs on this side of New York."
"That'd be something," Ava said, imagining a quaint little shop designed by her best friend. "But you'll be too busy creating architectural marvels to bother with my little bakery."
"Nah," Fred waved her off playfully. "I'd make time. Especially if it's for you."
The conversation flowed effortlessly as they chatted about their future plans. Fred was set to start his Bachelor of Science in Architecture at New York Pinnacle University come fall—a testament to his creative mind and keen eye for design. Ava would be joining him at the university to study for her Bachelor of Science in Biology.
Ava's choice to pursue a Bachelor of Science in Biology at New York Pinnacle University was more than just a personal preference; it was a nod to her family's storied legacy in the medical field. The Greenwoods were a lineage of esteemed surgeons who had not only mastered their craft but also established the renowned Greenwood Medical Center, a name synonymous with medical excellence.
While her family had made it clear that her future was hers to decide, Ava knew that continuing in the realm of medicine would bring them joy. Her decision to study biology was her way of honoring the family tradition, intending to lay a strong foundation for a future in medicine, possibly even surgery. Yet, in the depths of her heart, she held onto a flicker of curiosity for the world beyond the operating rooms—a world filled with the delicate art of pastry and the sweet scent of baking that was uniquely hers.
In the serene quiet of the rink, Ava watched Fred as he delighted in the pastries she had made with care. The comfortable silence between them was gently interrupted by her curiosity. "Fred, I heard about you and Hallie..." she ventured softly, careful to keep her tone casual and not intrusive. "I was under the impression things were pretty serious between you two."
Fred chuckled lightly, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet rink. "Yeah, Hallie and I are done," he confirmed, not seeming too perturbed by the fact. "She was a bit too much for me—always needed to be the center of attention, you know?" He shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was just a minor bump in his day.
Ava watched him, noting the ease with which he spoke about the end of his relationship. "It all started as a dare from Eric and Troy," Fred admitted with a sheepish grin. "They knew Hallie had a thing for older college guys, and well, they thought it would be funny to see if I could catch her eye. And you know, I'm always up for a challenge," he said, his grin widening at the memory.
"I liked her, sure, but things got intense pretty quickly," Fred continued, his smile fading a bit. "I realized we were looking for different things. Tried to end it after a week, but Hallie wasn't having it. She came up with this story about a guy who was supposedly after her, saying she felt safer with me around."
Ava's expression softened in understanding, seeing the discomfort flicker across Fred's face.
"It took me a while, but I figured out there was no guy. Hallie just liked the drama, the status of dating someone from the hockey team," he concluded, a hint of irritation in his tone for the first time.
Ava reached out, touching his arm in a gesture of support. "I'm sorry, Frederick. That sounds...complicated."
Fred looked at her, the irritation replaced by a grateful smile. "Thanks, Avaline. But hey, I learned something from it, and it's over now. I'm just focused on the championship and... well, enjoying your amazing baking," he said, reaching for another pastry with an appreciative glance.
As Fred savored the last bites of his strawberry cream puff, the quiet of the ice rink wrapped around him and Ava in a comfortable silence. With a playful glint in her eye, Ava seized the moment to probe a little into Fred's love life, "So, who's the flavor of the week now that Hallie's history?"
Fred's laughter, soft and genuine, filled the space between them. "Nobody, actually," he admitted, brushing off crumbs. "With the championship game coming up, that's where my focus is."
Ava felt a surprising rush of happiness at his words, and she fought to keep her reaction understated, merely nodding with a smile that she hoped looked casual.
Catching Ava slightly off guard, Fred's next proposal was filled with spontaneous excitement. "Hey, why don't you join me on the ice? The team's not here yet."
Ava burst into laughter, the idea seeming absurd to her. "Frederick, I can barely handle roller skates, let alone ice skates!"
But Fred's charm was hard to resist, especially when he flashed that disarmingly handsome smile of his. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll be right there with you."
Before she knew it, Fred was guiding her to the bench, his attentiveness shining through as he helped her lace up a pair of ice skates. His fingers were gentle yet firm, ensuring every knot was tied for her safety and comfort.
Stepping onto the ice was a leap of faith for Ava. She wobbled, her legs searching for stability on the slippery surface. Fred's hands, warm and reassuring, grasped hers firmly, preventing any chance of a fall. "You're doing great," he encouraged, leading her gently into the vast expanse of the rink.
Ava's heart raced, every uncertain step punctuated by her nervous laughter. Fred's amusement was unmistakable as he watched Ava navigate the ice. There was something undeniably endearing about her cautious steps and furrowed brow of concentration. He couldn't tear his eyes away, captivated by the sight of her trying so bravely to find her footing in this unfamiliar terrain. To him, her nervous expression was nothing short of adorable.
He continued to jest, aiming to draw out her laughter, which he found irresistibly charming. "You know, you might just revolutionize the way we do ice skating here," he quipped, watching her face light up with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
Her laughter, tinged with nerves yet full of life, was a melody to Fred's ears. He thrived on the sound, finding joy in her every response, cherishing the way she gradually relaxed under his watchful eye.
Noticing Ava beginning to balance more confidently, Fred made a bold decision. Slowly, he released one of her hands, a test of her newfound stability. Ava's immediate reaction was panic. "No," she protested, her voice laced with apprehension.
"It's okay. You're doing great," Fred reassured her, his voice calm and steady. Despite her initial hesitation, Ava found herself steadying, encouraged by his confidence in her abilities.
Then, in a smooth, almost choreographed move, Fred placed his other hand on Ava's waist, guiding her into a graceful glide across the ice. They moved as one, intimately close, like two figures carved from the same block of ice, destined to glide together. Ava's breath caught at the proximity, the warmth of his hand through her jacket, the steadiness of his support. She fought the urge to gasp, not from fear now, but from the thrill of their closeness.
As they moved together, Ava relaxed into the moment, her initial apprehension melting away. The nervous laughter faded, replaced by a contented silence as she surrendered to the rhythm of their shared movement. Fred's guidance was unspoken but ever present, his attention fixed on her with a softness that spoke volumes.
As their skating continued, the space between Ava and Fred seemed to diminish even further, pulling them into a closeness that felt both exhilarating and entirely natural. Fred, ever so attentive, occasionally adjusted Ava's stance, his hands gently guiding her shoulders or waist, ensuring her balance. Each touch, light and considerate, sparked a warmth that radiated through Ava, her heart beating a bit faster with every subtle contact.
Gradually, Fred's confidence in Ava's ability grew, and with a playful nod, he encouraged her to try a simple glide on her own. "You've got this, Avaline," he assured her, his voice a mix of encouragement and affection. Ava, emboldened by his trust, pushed forward, gliding a short distance before eagerly returning to Fred's side, her smile wide and triumphant.
The barrier of ice beneath their feet seemed to disappear, leaving them in a world where only the two of them existed. Fred's laughter met Ava's, their shared joy echoing softly in the cool air of the rink. It was a laughter that spoke of years of friendship, of countless shared moments, and now, of a budding realization of something deeper, something neither had fully admitted to themselves.
Encouraged by her success, Fred took Ava's hand once more, leading her in a slow, circular dance on the ice. Their movements were unhurried, a delicate dance that matched the soft music that seemed to play just for them in the background of their hearts. As they spun gently, Fred's gaze found Ava's, and for a moment, everything else faded. It was a look that conveyed admiration, fondness, and a hint of something new and undiscovered.
The ice beneath them sparkled under the arena lights, a reflection of the spark that seemed to ignite between them with every shared glance, every laugh, every touch. It was a moment suspended in time, a dance that neither wanted to end. As the final notes of their silent music drifted away, Fred and Ava came to a stop, their faces just inches apart, breathless not just from the physical exertion but from the emotional whirlwind they found themselves caught in.
Eric's voice sliced through the tranquil atmosphere of the rink, "Oh hello, lovebirds!" His teasing tone bounced off the ice, carrying an echo of mischief.
Both Ava and Fred turned toward the sound, finding not only Eric but also Troy and three other teammates, all wearing matching grins that spelled nothing but playful trouble. The sudden interruption jolted Ava, her movements becoming hurried and uncoordinated, leading her to nearly tumble on the ice.
Fred's reflexes kicked in instantly, his arms wrapping around her in a secure embrace. "I got you..." he assured her, with a smile that could melt the ice beneath them. For a moment, as Ava looked up into his hazel eyes, the world seemed to pause—a beautiful, timeless second that felt like their own secret.
But the reality of their audience, marked by the continuous ribbing from Fred's teammates, snapped Ava back. Reluctantly, she stepped out of Fred's protective circle, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush. "That was fun, Frederick. Thank you," she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine appreciation amidst the awkwardness.
"You're welcome, Avaline," Fred replied, his smile as radiant as the morning sun. They shared a look, one filled with unspoken words and shared memories, before skating side by side towards the exit.
As they reached the glass panel to leave the ice, Ava couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and excitement. Despite the brief embarrassment, the morning had gifted her a memory she would cherish—a moment of pure joy and connection.
As Fred and his teammates laced up their skates and donned their jerseys, the ice rink transformed into a scene reminiscent of The Mighty Ducks, Ava's favorite movie. She watched with a nostalgic smile, the camaraderie and determination of the team stirring memories of countless viewings.
Noticing Ava's lingering gaze as she started to leave, Fred couldn't let her go without one last word. "Avaline!" he called out, his voice bouncing off the ice as he skated swiftly to the glass barrier. Ava spun around, her reaction quick, a smile instantly lighting up her face.
"Message me once you're home, alright?" Fred's concern was genuine, his hazel eyes locking onto hers.
"Sure, I will. Bye, Frederick," Ava replied, her voice warm. She glanced at the gathering of hockey players and offered a cheerful wave. "Bye, guys!"
"Bye, Ava!" came their enthusiastic chorus.
"And thanks again for the amazing pastries!" Fred called out, skating backward to rejoin his team but still facing Ava, his playful wink sending her off with a light heart.
Once Ava had departed, the team huddled closer, ready to dive into practice. Fred, as team captain, was about to outline the day's drills when Kyle, the new guy with a knack for grabbing attention, especially from the girls, cut in with unexpected boldness.
"Hey, Fred, you and Ava dating? You guys seemed pretty cozy." His blunt inquiry, dripping with a mix of curiosity and ego, sliced through the air.
Fred paused, exchanging a brief, puzzled look with his teammates. The question seemed out of left field, especially right before practice. "No, we're not. Ava's my best friend," he clarified, his tone even but firm.
Kyle, unfazed and ever so confident, pressed on, "So, is it cool if I try to ask her out then?" His voice was laced with a bold certainty that bordered on presumption.
A moment of silence fell over the group; Fred's expression shifted subtly, a mix of surprise and annoyance flashing in his eyes. It wasn't just Kyle's interruption that irked him but the brazenness of his interest in Ava.
Fred took a breath, his response measured yet tinged with a hint of protectiveness. "Look, Kyle, this isn't the time or place," he started, his calm demeanor belying the irritation beneath. "And between you and me," he leaned in slightly, his smirk returning, "Ava's not the kind to fall for the new guy's charm on cue."
The rest of the team, especially Eric and Troy, exchanged looks that mixed amusement with a hint of surprise at Fred's protectiveness.
"Ouch, Cap. Just asking," Kyle shot back, a mix of defensiveness and jest in his tone, though the smirk on Fred's face hinted at an unspoken understanding among the boys.
"Focus, team. We've got a championship to win," Fred redirected, signaling the end of the discussion.