I am just about to walk into the rink when my phone starts ringing. I can see Francesca's name across the top but since I am going to see her in literally 4 seconds I don't bother answering. I pull the front door open and walk across the lobby toward the ice, expecting to see her on the ice but she isn't.

"You're late," Francesca calls out the second I come into her view. She is standing on the bench in just her socks with a little frown on her face.

"Sorry Beck, I've just been out of it today." Spring break we had practice and we all were aware it was officially the start of playoff season but coach went easy on us because we had a bye week. As of Monday our rest and relaxation is over and the pressure is back on us, plus some. Practices the past two days have been beyond brutal and everyone is beginning to crack under the pressure, including me. It doesn't make anything better that my parents' calls are getting more incessant and I am still giving them the runaround. And let's not forget the fact that every time I close my eyes flashes of Sunday night, of us dancing, play over and over on a loop.

"Can I help?" she offers while hopping off the bench. She is still wearing her fluffy socks meaning she hasn't put her skates on yet. I already know she wears two pairs of socks most of the time and when she gets to practice she stuffs her warm fluffy socks in her skating bag before putting her skates on. Something about the thought of her waiting for me instead of just starting to practice makes me feel, important?

"You did," I tell her as I sit to put my skates on. She tilts her head in confusion but shrugs and sits down next to me to put her own skates on. "I have your final song for you by the way."

"Oh really? You know if I remember correctly when we made that deal it was just to pick my first competition song not all of them."

"Yeah, but I pick winners."

"Oh yes your song is the reason I won, not the routine I created and performed."

"Glad you see it too butt."

Francesca rolls her eyes and walks away from me to get on the ice. I grab my hockey stick and a couple pucks and follow her. We still set up the cones before each practice but unlike the line we used to make in January this line is made up of maybe 4 cones spaced far apart and barely in a straight line. Neither of us care too much anymore about our sides. When Francesca needs more room to practice I give her the space she needs and when I want to do shooting drills she gives me the room I need. I think the cones are more a force of habit now, after 10 weeks of practicing together it has just become a part of our routine.

"So can I hear the song now or are you building up suspense by making me wait." I drop one of the pucks and push it around a few times pretending like I didn't hear her. "Ryder," she whines.

"Fine, if you insist." I try to play it off like I was making her wait to bother her and not because I am nervous. This song was not picked because I liked the beat or because I thought it was different. This one is saying things I wish I could and it is the most vulnerable I have probably ever let myself be with someone.

"Ry" she whines again as my thumb hovers over the play button. I take a deep breath and hope that maybe she will realize that this song choice wasn't random. I don't know how to say the words 'Francesca I like you, more than just as a friend' but maybe this could do it for me? And maybe I will even get lucky and she will feel the same way?

I finally hit play and the song reverberates off the walls. Francesca closes her eyes and begins skating with the song. I watch her take in the song and get a feel for it. She is just skating, no tricks or anything fancy like that, just skating but I am in awe of her still. She is wearing black leggings and a t- shirt with her little black gloves but I can feel my heart racing as I watch her move.

"Usually, I ain't the type to stay up all damn night thinkin' 'bout someone else," I sing to myself as the song continues on.

Francesca skates past me and grabs my hand pulling me along with her. "I love this song," she confesses, finally opening her eyes. I am not sure I am breathing anymore as she twirls herself in a circle in front of me still holding my hand. Every time I swear I can't fall any harder for her, she does this to me and the reality that this is, potentially, completely one sided becomes even more crushing.

Francesca lets go of my hand as the chorus plays and begins jumping and spinning, her laugh filling the air over the music. I follow her slowly, just desperate to be close to her.

"I tried rewriting this hundreds of times but if it ain't you, it's a lie," Francesca sings as she points toward me. It is this very moment when I realize I might not survive my own song selection. Hearing her skate to this, totally oblivious to the fact this is how I feel about her, hurts worse than a puck to the nuts.

"You're on my mind and I can't fight it," I sing to her hoping she will understand. Please I silently beg, get it Francesca. But of course that is just wishful thinking and nothing more.

The song finally ends and the second it does Francesca is throwing herself at me. "Ryder, I love it," she screeches in my ear as I hold her up. Maybe she didn't realize what the song really meant but the bright smile on her face eases the pain a little. At least she is happy and I am the cause.

"Think you can work your magic and turn this song into another winner?"

"Oh, definitely." She wiggles out of my arms like an excited puppy and starts up the song again. I should be focused on playoffs, in reality I shouldn't even be here. I should be with the rest of my roommates practicing with them on the makeshift rink in our backyard, but I couldn't give up my little bit of time with her today. I reluctantly stop watching her and begin my own practice.

I manage to mostly keep my focus throughout the remainder of the hour thankfully and make productive use of my time. Not as productive as I should be considering we play the only team we lost to all season this Saturday but I try not to beat myself up over that fact. I will make up for it later.

"Carson," Francesca yells, snapping her fingers in my face. "Maddie was right, athletes are stupid."

"You're an athlete," I remind her.

"People don't consider figure skating a sport so ha."

I give her a second to digest what she just said before we both burst out laughing. "Weird hill to die on butt."

"You know what at least my teeth are real."

"They are real," I yell, tapping on my teeth to further my point.

"Liar," she yells back even louder.

"Butt."

"Carson."

"You're a menace."

"I keep you humble. You're welcome. Anyways, I have to go, I am tutoring this field hockey player. You know, field hockey, the superior type of hockey."

I don't even dignify her hockey slander with a proper response. "Bullshit, but do you want a ride?"

"No thank you, she lives like a minute from here." We both walk out of the rink together and head our separate ways. I get in my car while Francesca cuts across the parking lot heading to her tutoring session.

I am half way home when my phone rings and I figure I am in a good enough mood to handle my dad's bullshit, so I answer. "Hello."

"Carson, glad you finally learned how to answer your phone."

"Sorry dad, I have been busy with playoffs and school," I lie. Lying to my parents is easy and basically second nature.

"Whatever I have been looking at places in New York for this summer for you. Your mother and I agree that you should be-"He continues talking but I can't hear what he is saying. How did he find out about my offer?

"I found a place already," I choke out, completely cutting him off. That will probably piss him off but I need to quickly dig myself out of this hole.

"And you thought to tell no one? It is bad enough I had to find out about this from your agent. Do you ever fucking think?" Of course my agent told them. The NCAA rules state that until I leave college and join the NHL I can't pay him so of course me going to the Islanders sooner is something he's personally invested in.

"Sorry, I have been busy. I wanted everything in order before I told you both," I say meekly as I clutch the steering wheel until my knuckles are white.

"Busy, you have no idea what busy is. Busy is lugging you to all those fucking practices and watching those pathetic games. Busy is dealing with your brat ass and basically doing everything for you because you can't fucking do it yourself. Now get your shit together Carson and grow up." His voice raises a couple octaves and even though he is nowhere near me, I still flinch.

I don't know what to say and the silence just sets my dad off worse. "Jesus fucking christ let me guess you're sorry. Always sorry about everything, be a fucking man for once and grow a pair. Anyways, you have wasted enough of my time so just tell me what the rent is for whatever craphole you found and I will wire the rent to you every month."

"Ok," I reply, trying to keep my voice as strong and even as possible.

"Also, your mother is pissed you missed her event on Friday. Lori brought her son who just entered the NFL draft and you not being there embarrassed her. We will determine later the punishment for your absence but I need to go, someone has to work in this fucking useless family."

The line clicks dead. I grab my phone and fumble with it before clicking the first name I can think of.

"Hey, Ryder," her sweet voice answers instantly. The tightness in my chest dissolves instantly just from hearing her. "Everything ok?" she asks when I don't respond.

"I just, yeah sorry wrong number, sorry," I stutter suddenly feeling embarrassed I called her.

"Ry? Are you sure you're ok? You've been weird all day."

"Just playoffs," I lie. It isn't as easy to lie to her and unlike with my dad I feel the guilt instantly.

"Well how about Friday we have a movie night? You helped me before competition, now it is my turn to return the favor."

"You grade quizzes on Friday."

"Oh don't worry you can grade with me," she laughs. "So Friday, my place. I will supply the math quizzes if you supply the movie, deal?"

"Deal. Thanks Beck."

"Of course, that's what friends are for."

"Bye Beck."

"Bye Bye Ry Ry," she sings before ending the call. I feel worlds better when the line goes dead this time than I felt a few minutes ago when my dad hung up.

_________________________________

Not my best work this chapter but I tested positive with COVID on Saturday so I am not exactly at my peak at the moment. Anyways Francesca's new competition song picked by Ryder is linked at the top and while this chapter may just be meh the song will give you all the feels. See you all Wednesday.