The nerd and the biker prince on ice

SKYLAR

My persistence was the only thing shielding my heart as the puck flew across and straight to my face, knocking my glasses off my face.

I bent downwards that instant, sliding my hands carelessly on the skating ice.

By now you should have guessed, though; I am Skylar, the girl who has never been feet away from her glasses and the unrecognized hockey team assistant.

I still couldn't sense any objects with my fingers; the game was still playing, and possibly someone would have noticed that the puck was missing.

I glanced upwards, and sure enough, the puck wasn't the only thing that was noticed because for the first time in so long, Leo was looking straight at me… like I mattered, not the girl in big sweaters and baggy jeans, but the girl who had followed him all the way to college so as to be noticed by him.

He smiled, so bright that my heart flipped and butterflies crawled in my tummy. I have eye defects, but even in a thick cloud I would relentlessly pick out my stepbrother and my childhood crush.

His huge body and magnetic eyes ran through my frame, and I couldn't help but blush…he had caught me blushing.

He skated forward to where I was, and the closer he came, the less I could make out his image.

But his aura was undeniable, and I felt it more when he ticked his finger on my forehead. “Poor Skylar,” he mumbled, and then he was gone, and so was my heart.

Everyone should be staring by now; that was what they usually did…stare their lives away.

But today was different; I felt crushed, my eyes watered, and he hadn't really seen me. He had been after the puck, which, by my calculations, wasn't far from me.

Another player came over to me. “Ouch, that must hurt a lot,” he said, his hands on his chest in a sympathetic mood before putting my glasses in place and tucking strands of hair behind my ears.

His voice alone was enough to make my skin crawl so much that I had to slap his hand off my face, but the reactions weren't what I expected.

As my veins buzzed at the contact, the hairs on my nape rose, and awareness hit me like ice on dry ground, but I shoved all the reactions down.

“Get away from me, psycho,” I muttered, adjusting my glasses to get a better view ahead and standing to my feet.

All eyes were on me; it seems the game had stopped, and in its stead, I was being played.

No, don't get any wild thoughts; I am invincible, but nothing could be too invincible standing close to the most popular guy in school and my arch enemy.

I could hear murmurs, apparently from the girls' section. But I didn't really care because their fears were nothing, as I have sworn never to be on Troy’s list of played girls.

As expected, the game ended an hour later, and Troy had won the MVP a second time since he got transferred to the Ivy League college.

From the crowd I got a glimpse of Leo; his friends on the team were patting his shoulder in that manly-encouraging way, which made my heart twist into a knot.

I didn't like seeing Leo in pain, and all this was because Troy had come into our school. I would have preferred he remained in whatever shithole he had resided in rather than being here.

It took nearly an hour before he was done talking to his friends, and by then even Troy had left the rink, and so did many of the onlookers.

Troy and Leo played for the same team, the Ice Fighters, and before Troy was transferred, Leo used to be the team captain, but all that has changed, and not only was Leo second best now, even the coach and the scout board members didn't see him as anything more than a hockey team member, which leaves Troy in the spotlight.

The instant he was free, brooding and coming my way, I hasteningly jogged to where he stood like a six-year-old who just got a candy jar, but his strides were faster.

In minutes, he had entered the boys' locker room, and I followed behind. It wasn't my first time here ultimately; as the team assistant, I came with the coach to keep medical tabs on the team from time to time.

Until the door behind me jammed shut, Leo did swivel back to see who had entered.

“Skylar,” he called out on seeing me, and my cheek colored as our gazes met. I looked downwards, one hand fibbling with the tip of my white shirt beneath the cardigan and the other clutching onto the long line of textbooks and plain sheets I held.

“Ehmm,” I said nervously, “about the match, I wanted to tell you that you did a good job even if you didn't get the MVP.” I encouraged my eyes on the floor, still unable to look at me. “You would still be the star player to me”.

He walked towards me, the air tense and subtle, then rubbed his hand on the top of my head. It was a kind gesture, but it gave me immeasurable joy as I tried so hard not to giggle and ruin the moment.

“Thanks, step sis,” he said at last, his hands returning to his sides as he walked out of the locker room, leaving me to continue to delude myself in my fantasy.

The minute the door slammed shut, I jumped in the air as I giggled errantly like a teen getting her first kiss; just then, realization dawned on me.

I was in the men’s locker room and needed to get out.

I straightened my clothes and tucked my hair in place before taking a deep breath and then turned to leave.

As I swiveled, I came into collision with something hard, so hard I thought I had hit the wall. The contact threw me off balance, and even as I tried hard not to fall, I still did, my books and print sheet flying down towards me.

“Shit,” I cursed as I lifted my eyes and we made contact. Everything seemed to stop at that moment; I had to blink rapidly to stop staring.

He wasn't just there; he was half naked, strong, and enticing like a meal for a king.

Remembering that he was still the enemy, I frowned, folding my arms around each other. “A day without picking on me would be like a day without achievement, huh?” I asked as I tried to stand on my feet.

“Sorry about that though, but it seems you are still dazed with the body,” he teased, referring to his abs and muscled chest.

“In your dreams, psycho,” I answered, enticed but too proud to admit it.

No wonder all the girls in school were all over him.

As I tried to pick up my book, he joined me; pity that he picked the wrong text…my journal, and if my day wasn't bad enough, he was reading it out loud and clearly.

“No, give that to me!!!” I yelled, standing on the tips of my toes to retrieve my journal. That only made him increase the tone of his voice as shame crept down my cheeks.

“He glides on the ice like a god on the ice, and when he makes that hat trick, my heart flutters like a thousand butterflies, which makes me wonder what he can do with his….” he continued but stopped midway, confusion crowding his senses as he gave a deep frown. “This isn't about me, right? It is more about someone else, someone closer and someone we both know.”

Now I was doomed of all people to find out about my secret; it had to be my worst enemy and school playboy.

At that

moment, I only prayed for one thing: that the ground would just open and swallow me whole.