Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 12

Charlotte

I hold out my hand to the boy with messy black hair, tanned skin, and dark brown eyes, and he stares at me. It’s awkward, so I pull my hand back, unsure why I even tried that in the first place. It’s not like me to be so forward with someone. As soon as I pull it back, his eyes flick to my fingers, and something in his face twitches, quick and strange, like he’s annoyed at himself. I don’t know what that means. Thankfully, Charlie squeezes his arm tighter around my shoulders, pulling me from my inner turmoil. “I’ve got practice this afternoon,” he says, leaning in slightly to whisper. “Do you want to come and watch?” I smile at him without thinking. “You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Charlie’s grin turns bright again with that smile that makes him look younger. “Thanks, Lotty.” Then he shifts his attention to the boy beside him. “Hey, this is Blake, by the way,” Charlie says. “He’s the team captain.” Blake’s eyes are still on me like he forgot how to blink. I flick my gaze to his jersey, to the way it sits on his broad shoulders, and then back to his face. I gathered he’d be captain. He’s in the team, obviously, he’s wearing the jersey. But there’s also something about him that screams dominance. He takes up space without trying. “Nice to meet you,” I say anyway, because I was raised better than to ignore someone. Blake doesn’t answer… He keeps staring. Maybe he’s not a big talker. Maybe he doesn’t like me. Maybe I’ve done something wrong, and nobody’s told me yet.

The wind picks up, cold air slicing through my uniform, and through the frost I catch a hint of cedar… and smoke. It hits me so quickly, my breath stutters. My heart kicks hard once, then again, and I rub my chest like that’s going to stop whatever this is. It’s that same feeling from last night, the same feeling that lingered this morning. That pressure, right in the centre of my chest… I really need to save up enough to see a doctor. I’m seventeen, and I’m already acting like I’m on the brink of a heart attack. The bell rings, and Charlie swears under his breath. “Come on, Lotty,” he says, steering me toward the building. “We’ve got to get our timetable before we’re late.”

“I can show you guys where the office is,” Blake says quickly, finally deciding to use his words. His voice is deeper than I expected, but it’s also calming. Charlie looks relieved. “Thanks, man, that’d be great.” It’s nice that he’s making friends already. I like that for Charlie. I like anything that makes him look like he belongs somewhere. Blake falls into step beside us like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He walks slightly ahead, and I notice he keeps glancing back, not at Charlie, but at me... Like he’s checking I’m still there.

The hallway is crowded with students shaking snow off their shoes, lockers slamming, voices bouncing off the walls. It’s the usual chaos of a school morning, but it feels worse when you’re new. Like you’re walking through a place where everyone already knows the rules, and you’re the only one without the script. Charlie’s arm stays around my shoulders until we reach the main corridor. Then he drops it reluctantly, because he knows people will stare if he keeps holding on. Blake leads us past a noticeboard plastered with flyers and sports sign-ups. I glance at the hockey poster without meaning to. It lists tryouts, practice schedules and game dates. Charlie’s eyes flick to it too, hungry and bright, and I have to look away before it hits me in the chest. He’s going to make something of this. He has to.

We reach the office, and Blake gestures toward the door like he’s escorting us. “Here.”

“Legend,” Charlie says, pushing through first. Inside, the air is warm and smells faintly like paper and carpet cleaner. A woman behind the counter looks up with that tired-but-alert expression adults get when they work around teenagers all day. “Can I help you?” she asks. Charlie steps forward. “We’re new. We enrolled yesterday. We need our timetables.” The woman’s eyes flick between us. “Names?”

“Charlie Pierce,” he says. “And Charlotte Pierce.” Her fingers tap over the keyboard. She nods once, then reaches for a printer behind her. “You’re starting today?”

“Yeah,” Charlie says. The woman gives us a look as if she can already tell we’re going to be a problem. “Alright. Here you go.” She slides two sheets of paper across the counter. I grab mine and stare down at it, heart doing that weird thing again, because once again I have to find my way to classrooms in a place I don’t know, with teachers I’ve never met and students who will likely judge me on anything they can. It’ll be a whole day where I have to pretend I’m normal, while inside I’m dying to escape. Charlie studies his timetable like it’s a map out of hell. Blake stands slightly behind us, leaning against the wall like he has all the time in the world. He’s watching me again. I can feel it without looking. The office woman’s gaze flicks to him. “Blake, aren’t you meant to be in homeroom?” He straightens instantly, like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Yeah. Sorry.” She gives him a pointed look that says she’s not buying his innocence. Then she looks back at us. “If you get lost, ask a teacher. Don’t wander.” Charlie gives her a quick nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

We step back out into the hallway, and Charlie glances at his sheet. “I’ve got English first.” I scan mine. “Same.” Charlie’s face lifts. “Alright. We’ll survive. We always do.” He says it like a joke, but it lands heavy in my brain anyway. Blake clears his throat from the spot where he clearly didn’t leave for homeroom. “That’s in Block C. I can show you.” Charlie lights up like Blake just offered him a winning ticket. “You don’t have to, but that’d be awesome.” Blake’s gaze flicks to me again. “Thanks,” I say quietly.

We start walking again, and I keep my eyes on the back of Blake’s jersey, where it says “Atlas -53.”  Charlie talks beside me about practice, the team, and the coach. The words are spilling out now that he has something he wants. I listen and nod and match his pace… But every few steps, that cedar and smoke scent hits me again, faint and warm under the school smell, and my chest does that weird tight thing. I rub my sternum once more, pretending it’s nothing. Blake’s head turns slightly as if he notices, but he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps leading us down the hall, straight into our new day.