Secrets on the Rink: The Captain's Hidden Obsession

~Author's POV~

Nova executes a clean Triple Salchow on center ice, her hollow steel blade humming as she lands cleanly on a backward outside edge. ‘Swan Lake’ fades as she finishes her routine, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. 

When she finally heard a single loud sound by the side, Coach Elana Rostova was standing behind the glass with a clipped expression on her face.

Nova's guts tightened as she glided toward her. She hadn't even stopped moving when Coach Elana dropped the news.

"They’re taking the ice, Nova." Her voice held a subtle hint of pain in it. “The board met an hour ago." 

Nova freezes on center ice. Her heart drops straight to her stomach. A cold sweat breaks out across the back of her neck as her lungs seized up. 

Her hands grip the dasher boards so hard the chill from the metal bites deep into her skin, barely grounding her.

Nova's voice shakes, barely audible, "What do you mean, taking the ice? Regionals are in three weeks."

Coach Rostova's shoulders dropped as she shook her head. Nova had never seen her coach reveal such a defeated expression.

Elana Rostova was a star figure skater back in her hey days, until she had an injury that put an end to her skating days. Even at that, she never let anything get to her. Her expressions were neutral as well as her tone.

But at this moment, it was different.

Coach Rostova points to the 

“The board has issued an official 30-day provisional notice to shut down the figure skating program," she states and points to the manila folder on the bench. 

“Rink B is being converted into a private off-ice training facility for the varsity hockey team." 

“Why?” Nova's brows furrowed in confusion. “We've made so much progress in the sport. You said so yourself when I took the school to top five last year. We're finally starting to get the recognition we deserve. There's still so much I can do.”

"I know you can, Nova." The woman exhales as she leans against the glass. “Trust me I tried to deter the course but the votes were against me. There wasn't anything I could do.”

“This is unfair," Nova whispers. A clog forms in her throat as tears gather in her eyes. 

"This programme is all I have, Coach. You can't let them take it.”

For Nova, this isn't just about missing competitions. Losing the program means losing her athletic scholarship. Without it, she doesn't stand a chance of paying the school's tuition or dorm fees. 

And if she doesn't meet up with those payments, she faces immediate eviction from campus dorms, dropping out of UBC, and being thrown back onto the streets with nothing. 

It's the exact nightmare she fought to escape after her abusive father was sent to prison.

"I'm sorry, Nova. I wish I could do something to stop this.”

Choking back hot tears and anger, Nova strips off her skates, jams her sneakers on, and storms down the narrow corridor to leave with her blue duffle bag.

Meanwhile, Colt Callahan is having the worst morning of his life. He just got screamed at and benched during morning practice by Coach Henderson for stiff turns he's been making.

His right hip feels like it's full of broken glass, and his controlling father just texted him that NHL scouts are coming Friday so he needs to amp up his performance.

Blinded by tears, Nova rounds the corner by the Zamboni bay and slams full-speed into Colt’s broad, six-foot-four frame. Her duffle bag drops, and her training journals scatter across the floor.

"Watch where you're going, shortie. The ice is behind you. Don't throw a temper tantrum in my hallway," Colt snarled.

Nova's temper explodes. "Your hallway?! You guys already suck all the money, and the private gym time out of this campus. Now you're stealing Rink B because your fragile egos need more room to bounce rubber pucks?"

Colt's head reared back. He was rather surprised by her rebuttal but that quickly faded into anger.

"At least we play real sports," he jabs. "You guys don't need all that room to twirl like Barbies in shimmering outfits." 

"At least we don't have a concussion while doing it."

"Well too bad, princess. Your early-morning spins don't pay the university's hydro bills," Colt shot back. 

Nova goes quiet with that one. His words hit the mark. It's the reason figure skating is getting cancelled after all.

For a second, Colt thought he’d pushed her too far and she might actually blow a fuse right there in the narrow hallway.

Just when he thought to apologise, he noticed her open duffle bag was laying dangerously close to the greasy black tracks left by the maintenance cart rumbling down the far corridor. 

Without taking his eyes off her, he raised his heavy skate-booted foot and pulled the bag backward, shoving it safely against the wall so it wouldn't get crushed.

Then, he shifted his weight 

​It was a subtle attempt to ease off his right leg to ease the pain in his right hip. But Nova spent so much studying the alignments of the human joints not to notice.

Nova’s sharp eyes caught his physical giveaway; when Colt shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, the clench of his jaw and the reflex to hold the affected hip. 

She saw it all. But she didn't care. She had way too much to be bothered about than some arrogant hockey jerk.

Nova snatches her bag, pushing past him toward the arena exit. "Enjoy your shiny annex, Callahan. Hope you choke on the draft."

As she nears the glass double doors, her eyes caught a notice that made her freeze. A document has been taped to the glass with blue painter's tape. It was an official notice of Facility Conversion & Donor Annex.

At the bottom of the page, listed as the primary corporate donor funding the buyout that will shut down figure skating was Callahan Holdings & Real Estate Development Group.

Colt walks up behind her, reading over her shoulder. His smug smirk vanishes into a hard  line. He stares at the signature. His face turned pale, realizing his father just made him the villain in a story he wanted no part of.

Nova turned slowly, her blue eyes locking onto his with a look of pure, icy contempt.

"You can't be serious... Your father bought my rink?"