Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 14

**Charlotte**

By the time the third bell goes, my brain really feels like it’s been wrung out. Wellington High is a maze of corridors that all look the same. Off-white walls, old posters, notices pinned up crooked and kids moving like they’ve been here their whole lives, weaving around each other without thinking. I keep checking my timetable, double-checking room numbers because I don’t trust my own eyes, and every time I stop, someone brushes past me like I’m a chair in the wrong place. The second period was fine. The teacher made us stand at the front and introduced us as the new kids. Charlie handled it like a pro. He smiled, cracked a joke and made the class laugh. I kept my shoulders straight and my face calm, but I felt every single set of eyes on my skin. We both had to stay throughout the first break in order to catch up on work we had missed. Which was fine. I would much rather just stay locked in a room with Charlie than have to try and socialise. I know it’s not great for him though. He needs to make those connections. 

The next class I go to is Maths. Down a different corridor, with a different teacher, but all the same looks. The teacher pauses when I walk in, then points to an empty seat near the back. “New student?” he asks, like it’s an inconvenience. “Yeah,” I say.

“Name?”

“Charlotte.” He nods once and turns away. I sit down and pull my bag tight to my side. A boy in front of me keeps turning around like he wants to stare openly, but can’t commit. A girl on my left whispers to her friend. Both of them glance at my shoes… I know what they see. A second-hand uniform, an old sweater, a bag that’s seen better days, hair tied back because it’s easier. A girl who is physically less than them… but that’s okay. I don’t need their approval. I swallow the urge to make myself smaller. Charlie isn’t in my Maths or Science class either. He has a different timetable because of electives and sports, which means I get left alone in rooms where nobody speaks to me unless they have to. It also means Charlie gets to make a good impression.

I move through both classes on autopilot. My mind is constantly running back to last night at the lake. The sudden scent, the branch crack and the way my body ran without thinking. I press my fingers lightly to my sternum under the desk, just once, and the strange tight feeling answers me back like it remembers too. When the lunch bell finally rings, the whole school spills out like a flood. Lockers slam open and kids surge through the hallway, shoulders knocking, voices loud and careless. Someone bumps my bag and keeps going, and someone else laughs as they shove past. I get caught for a second, pressed between two groups, and my breath tightens in my throat. I keep moving slowly, dodging people and following the flow until I hit the lockers. The universe threw me one small mercy and put Charlie’s right next to mine. I spin the combination, hands cold, and shove my things inside. Charlie shows up a moment later with that same grin, like he hasn’t spent the morning being stared at. “Hey,” he says, like we’re meeting up at our favourite spot instead of clinging to the one familiar thing in a school full of strangers. “Hey,” I say back. He leans his shoulder against the lockers and looks at me properly for the first time since we split up. “You alright?” he asks. I nod. “Yeah. Just… new kid stuff.” Charlie’s eyes soften, and then he does what he always does when he doesn’t like what he sees. He shifts closer and makes it his problem too. “Come on,” he says, hooking an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go find a spot. I’m starving.” I don’t tell him I’m starving too.

We head outside, past the main courtyard, toward the back, where the ovals stretch out under the winter sun. Kids scatter across the grass in groups, sitting on backpacks, leaning against trees, kicking footies, and laughing as if the world were simple. Charlie steers us toward the far side, where a set of metal picnic tables sits near the edge of the building. The hockey boys are already there, jerseys bright against the grey day, talking loud and eating like they haven’t seen food in a week. Blake is standing a few metres away from them, arms crossed, watching the oval like he’s looking for something. Then his gaze lands on Charlie. He lifts his chin once, calling him over without saying a word. Charlie’s face lights up again like he’s been invited into something he’s wanted his whole life. He tightens his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Lotty”, he says, already tugging me along with him like it’s obvious I’ll come too. He’s always done that, including me when he didn’t have to. The wind picks up and blows toward us, and I get hit by the scent of cedar and smoke. It hits me so hard my feet forget what they’re doing. It’s like walking into a wall that isn’t there. My body short-circuits for half a second, and my balance leaves me. I trip over nothing and go down hard. My knees smack the ground, and I throw my hands out, palms stinging as cold snow bites through my skin. My bag slides off my shoulder and thumps beside me.

All the noise around us pulls back. Even the footy bouncing stops for a second. I can feel eyes turning, heads tilting, that sharp teenage curiosity that always comes with someone else’s embarrassment. Before I can even push myself up, Blake is there, really fast. I’m not even sure how he managed to cross the space between us so quickly. He kneels beside me as he drops from the sky, one hand hovering near my arm like he wants to touch, but is stopping himself. “Are you okay?” he asks. His voice is low, steady, and it makes my chest do that stupid tight thing again, like it’s reacting to him without permission.