Page 31 of Jesse and the Ice Princess
He leaned back against the railing. "Dude, nothing can help us win."
"She can. I feel it. I know it. Will you just come watch her? Please."
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Sure, man. Let's go watch Charlie." He screwed up his face when he used the nickname. "You do know this is the same Charlotte Morrison who hates us, right?"
The same Charlotte he got sent to the principal.
The one who beat him in the race and was so completely forbidden he had no right to even be friends with her.
Yeah, he knew exactly who she was. In fact, he couldn't forget it if he tried.
When they reached the balcony, Jesse looked down to where a lone girl did figure eights on the freshly-zambonied ice.
One boy sat on the bench watching her.
"All right, Charlotte," her mother's voice boomed over the PA system. Jesse searched for her, finding her in the announcer's booth. "This morning, I want you to run through your entire long program. Make a mistake and you start again."
"Can you imagine having a parent for a coach?" Roman collapsed into a chair behind them. "Talk about overbearing."
Jesse didn't respond because he couldn't focus on anything but Charlotte as a haunting melody began. She started slowly, using her skate to draw a circle around herself with her arms in the air straight above her.
He could picture her in a beautiful costume, throwing the crowd into an awed stupor. But even in sweatpants and a t-shirt, she had him leaning forward, not wanting to miss a moment.
The music picked up speed, incorporating a beat into the energizing tune. Charlotte flew down the ice as if she were a bird soaring effortlessly.
He'd never seen anyone make skating look so fluid. Hockey skaters moved with choppy, quick movements, no fluidity, no grace.
She wasn't an ice princess out there; she was a fairy, a creature of fantasy that didn't exist in the real world.
She sped up, crossing her legs in front of each other as she skated backward. Jesse didn't know the terms for any of her moves, he couldn't tell if she performed them technically well, but it didn't matter because he felt the story she told. Her first jump held so much power, such strength, it should have surprised him coming from such a small girl, but it didn't because he knew her.
He knew the fire she possessed, whether she saw it or not.
The music stopped, and Charlotte slowed. Her mom's voice rang out. "You need to get higher on that last lutz. Begin again. This time, tighten up your footwork as well."
Charlotte skated to center ice, preparing to start again.
She only got a little farther before her mom stopped her again, complaining about her edges on the jump combination—whatever that meant.
"Man, that woman isn't playing around." Roman leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Like Jesse, he hadn't taken his eyes from Charlotte since she began.
Each time Charlotte had to restart her routine, Jesse understood her a little better. He'd never seen anyone as driven toward perfection as her and her mom. It put their hockey practices to shame.
The entire school considered her cold and antisocial, but he didn't think that was true, not anymore.
She was the toughest person he knew.
"So," Roman started. "You say she can help us win?"
Jesse knew if his friend only saw what he saw, he'd be on board. A smile curved his lips as the music sounded through the rink for the millionth time.
He explained the trip to the principal’s office and what Charlotte agreed to. By the time he was done, Roman rolled with laughter. "Dude, you conned us into a skating coach? No wonder she hates you."
"She doesn't hate me."
Roman stood and patted his shoulder. "You're just not used to it. I know everyone else has a habit of kissing your butt. This girl, though... you were right. She's special. She won't fall for the Carrigan charm."
Why did everyone keep talking about some kind of charm he had like it was a magical power?
