Chapter 5 Empty Ice

Bonnie

Two hours. Mael is two hours late on our very first official morning of training.

The side gate creaks open, the sound echoing across the quiet ice. Coach Daniel steps onto the surface, holding two paper coffee cups, steam rising from the plastic lid in his right hand as he glides toward me.

"Here," Coach Daniel says, reaching out to offer one of the cups as I circle past. "Black, no sugar. Just how you used to take it."

I dig my toe pick into the ice, spraying a cloud of sharp white frost against his skates as I come to a sudden halt. I'm already getting impatient, that asshole really ditched practice?

"Where is he, Uncle Dan?"

Coach Daniel sighs, setting the unused paper cup onto the wooden ledge of the boards behind him. "He’s on his way, Bonnie. Mael isn't... well, his uncle said morning sessions have always been a rough transition for him. Take a breath. Drink the coffee."

"A transition?" I grip my gloved hands into tight fists, my chest heaving from two solid hours of non-stop jump combinations. "This isn't a casual skate. This is our first official session. I’ve been out of the game for five full years. Every single minute I spend standing around in this cold waiting for him is time I’m losing."

"I get it," Coach Daniel says, his tone infuriatingly soft as he tries to diffuse me. "I know how much is on the line for you, Bonnie. But Mael operates on his own timing. He’s spent years building his own routine, but he’ll show up. You two just need a moment to adjust to each other. Give it a little patience."

"Patience?" The word burns in my throat. "That idiot is doing it on purpose! I didn't sign up to freeze on this ice while the golden boy sleeps off whatever bar he was crawling out of last night!"

"He’s coming," Coach Dan insists, stepping closer, his eyes dead serious. "Mael is dedicated the second his skates touch this ice. You know what he can do out there. You saw it yourself. Think about what you two can build if you just give the partnership a real chance."

"He isn't here!" I shout, my voice cracking through the quiet space as I turn on my heel, gliding backward away from him. "That tells me everything I ever need to know about his dedication!"

"Bonnie, just hear me out—"

"No!" I cut him off, carving a tight loop and skating right back into his space until we're toe-to-toe. "Even with his uncle threatening him, he still pulled this kinda crap. Forty-eight hours to get his head straight and meet me on this ice at six AM, or lose his spot at Nationals. Mael stood there and heard every word. And he still didn't show up!"

Coach Dan shifts his weight a little, staring down at the ice for a split second before meeting my eyes. "He’s stubborn, Bonnie. He doesn't like being backed into a corner, especially by Adriane. But don't worry, he must know how to handle his Nephew."

“Uncle stop trying to make me see reasons because it's not helping.” Coach Dan opens his mouth to respond, but I step directly into his path, cutting off any attempt at an excuse.

"Why should I bother about a partner who doesn't even respect me enough to show up?" I demand, my chest heaving as my voice echoes off the walls. "If he doesn't give a damn about this, tell me right now! Tell me so I can stop wasting my time standing in the freezing cold!"

Coach Dan stands completely silent. The reassuring coach persona slips, leaving him staring at me with zero answers.

Before he can utter another word, the double doors at the end of the entry corridor slam open with a deafening crash.

Coach Adriane storms through the gate, his heavy winter boots thudding against the rubber matting. His face is dark crimson, his jaw clenched so hard the muscle quivers under his skin. 

He marches straight to the rink edge, grabs his plastic clipboard, and slams it down onto the wooden bench so hard the plastic cracks against the frame.

"That is fucking it," Coach Adriane growls, his voice booming through the rink with lethal rage. "I am done with his pathetic, self-absorbed games."

Coach Daniel steps off the ice onto the rubber runner, moving toward his brother. "Adriane, hold on. Let's try his phone one more time—"

"I’ve called his phone fifteen times!" Coach Adriane roars, whipping around to glare at Daniel. "He’s sitting in his room, declining my calls. He’s ignoring every single one of us."

Coach Adriane shoves his hands deep into his coat pockets, turning his sharp, murderous eyes onto me for a split second before locking onto the exit doors.

"I'm going straight to the dorms," Coach Adriane snaps, the words dropping like lead weights. "I am going to drag that arrogant bastard out of his bed by his throat and throw him onto this ice myself."

Without waiting for Daniel to say a word, Coach Adriane turns on his heel and storms back down the hallway, slamming the outer facility doors shut behind him with a force that rattles the glass panes.

The noise fades, leaving the rink dead silent again. Coach Daniel looks back at me, his eyes full of helpless frustration.