"Bye Fran," I hear my friends shout from behind me as I dart out of the classroom, already running late. It is almost competition weekend and I am not wasting a single free moment not perfecting my routine. With my bags practically dragging in the snow behind me, I hustle across campus to the rink.

By the time the rink finally comes into view I am winded and my skating bag, which continually falls off my shoulder, is throwing me off balance, but at least I am almost there. And Ryder's car isn't in the parking lot yet so that is a win for me. I step off the curb and cut across the small strip of grass into the parking lot. The parking lot is barely plowed and I have to climb over a mound of snow.

Just as I finally get two feet on the pavement a familiar car turns into the parking lot. Ryder must notice me at the same time I notice him because he parks across three spots and hops out of his car within seconds. I start sprinting for the doors as he opens the back of his car to grab his skates. Seconds later I can hear him running too but I don't turn around. I have reluctantly watched enough horror movies to know, you never turn around.

As I am just a few feet from the door, I can feel Ryder right behind me running as fast as he can. We reach the door at the same time and fight to open it and get inside first. There are elbows flying, hip checks being thrown, and as Ryder grips the door in front of my face, for a second, I think about biting him so he lets go. I obviously don't bite him but these are the lengths I am willing to go to get inside first and I know he would do the same.

I think a part of me likes this little war we have and that's why I don't just step aside and let him in. Whoever makes it inside first at the end of the day makes no difference and yet here we are fighting for our lives all to walk through a door first. "I thought your momma raised a gentleman?" I bitch as he tugs on my bag while I kick back, softly kicking his shin. I would never kick him hard, this is all good fun. Jeopardizing his hockey season would just be cruel, especially after he took the time to find me a good competition song.

"Yeah well momma also didn't raise no bitch." Suddenly a strong arm is around my waist lifting me off the ground and tossing me effortlessly to the side. I stumble but don't fall as Ryder throws open the door and continues running inside to get the cones from the office. I follow throwing my bags on the bench as we pass, just as he throws his skates too.

"Ryder not fair," I call as he pushes ahead, running faster and creating a greater distance between us.

"Life ain't fair toots, get over it."

I come to a complete stop and laugh as he nearly breaks down the office door. I hear Josh and Barb questioning him and he comes out a moment later shutting the door behind him gently. "Ops," is all he says before doubling over in laughter. I laugh with him shaking my head as we both walk back to the ice completely out of breath.

"Those chicken arms hurt Beck," he scolds, rubbing his stomach where I may have jabbed him a few times.

"Sorry," I squeak a little embarrassed about how hard I fought over something so childish.

"Nah, it's all good, I am a big strong hockey player, I can take it."

"Mhm," I hum. "I see it's opposite day at the rink."

Ryder laughs and we both sit down putting on our skates. "So you have your first competition this weekend? Right that's this weekend?"

"Technically second but the first of this semester," I tell him as we both stand and I grab the cones. For the first time we set up the cones together and there is no fighting over how to set them up or who has a bigger side.

"How many competitions do you have in your season?"

"3 regular then we have nationals and then there is a second nationals open to all skaters who are college age even if they're not on a college team. That one is in July and they give out cash prizes which is cool."

"Damn only three? That has got to be stressful only having three plus nationals. The good thing about hockey is if you have one bad game you have 33 others to make up for it."

"That sounds exhausting. I know hockey is a team sport but don't you play like two games every weekend? I mean ice skating competitions are long but then I usually have weeks to rest and prepare for the next. You guys are just constantly going."

"Eh, you get used to the schedule. I have been playing so long I think I would be bored if I wasn't playing so much."

"Makes sense," I nod as I pull my phone from my pocket and start my music. Ryder begins skating around, setting up some of the extra cones on his side of the ice. As he sets up he bobs his head along to the song like a total dork, this one stray hair bounces out of his backwards hat and lays on his forehead.

I restart the song and begin practicing. The routine is starting to feel second nature, like I am not even thinking anymore, the music starts and my body just goes knowing exactly what to do when. I love that feeling, when I am just so in tune with the music that I go into autopilot but that is also a dangerous place to be. Music can cut out at competitions and you want to know your courts just in case.

"Hey," I call out to Ryder who is slumped against the wall chugging a water. "Pick a new song."

"A new song," he asks in a panic.

"Not for competition, just to listen to now. I want to make sure I can do the routine even if the music messes up."

"Ooh, smart Beck. Do Eye of the Tiger," he tells me enthusiastically.

"God you sound like my dad," I laugh but put on the cheesy old song anyways. I go back to skating, managing to actually make it through the routine with only a few minor mistakes. My phone goes to the next song and I start again focusing mainly on the parts I messed up and only marking the rest.

Songs continue to shuffle, mostly random hits that are popular, but just as I am about to call it a day Taylor Swift's Enchanted comes on and I begin freestyling as the song plays. It is one of my favorites and I skate around my side of the ice, jumping and spinning along to the song as my body feels. I let the song guide me skating with my eyes closed for a good portion of the song, singing along softly.

When the song ends and I open my eyes, Ryder is standing on his side of the ice, clapping. "Old routine?"

"Freestyle," I tell him, getting shy from the attention. Even at competitions while most people eat up a standing ovation, I try to hide and get off the ice as quickly as possible. My friends, family and coaches always tell me I shouldn't be so shy but I can't help it. I am scared that if I stand there with all eyes on me everyone will figure out I am a fraud. That I am wearing second hand skates and that my costume is handed down from a friend and doesn't quite fit right. Notice that my hair isn't professionally done or that my make up is all drug store bought. I don't fit in already and I have spent the entirety of my life trying to fit in in my sport, not stand out.

"Damn, I am starting to question my song choice."

"Don't," I assure him. "It is great and I really like skating to something fast. Everyone does pretty ballads, it will be fun to have something completely different."

"Different is what I was aiming for."

We both pick up the cones and the conversation dies down as both of us space out. Most of our hour on the ice is usually spent in silence, just the sound of our skates on the ice and my music filling the rink. The silence isn't awkward as we both step off the ice and sit on the bench.

I open my skating bag and notice something sitting at the bottom. "Oh shit, here this is for you." I shove the folded up money from my bag at Ryder, who looks at it confused.

"Um why?"

"For gas," I tell him like it is obvious.

"For gas? Beck I drove you like 4 minutes, fuck off you don't need to pay me for gas."

"Yes I do, you drove me and I know my place is out of the way from the direction you had to take to get home."

"Yeah by like a minute, that was like a penny worth of gas not," Ryder snatches the money from my hand to inspect it. "$15? Are you stupid?"

"I am trying to be nice here," I bite as I feel my cheeks heating up.

"Thanks but no thanks. Here." Ryder shoves the money back at me and I just roll my eyes. We both finish packing up and go to the back to say bye to Josh and Barb and put the cones away.

While we are walking I trial behind and shove the money into his skate, figuring by the time he finds it it will be too late to give it back and by Thursday he will have likely forgotten.

"Hey," Ryder greets and I walk into the office behind him.

"Are you excited for competition this weekend, Franny?"

Ryder snickers next to me and I shoot him a look. "What?"

"Franny," he chuckles. "It sounds like Fanny. Your name is butt."

"Carson your name literally sounds like Carsick."

"No it doesn't. That was a weak one even for you ,Fanny."

Out of insults, I just flip him off and turn back to Barb while he talks to Josh. A few minutes later we are both saying our goodbyes and walking out of the office.

"Fanny," Ryder whispers under his breath.

"Ass," I grumble as we both exit the rink, still without a good comeback.

"Ride," Ryder asks, getting a little more serious as we cross the parking lot.

"It is nice out and I could use the walk."

"You sure? I swear it is no problem."

"Promise," I tell him as I take my headphones from my pocket and continue walking. I can feel Ryder watching me for a few moments before he reluctantly gets in the car and drives off. He honks at me as he drives past and I wave to him before turning on my music and zoning out for the rest of my walk home.