Page 12 of Goalies Don't Date Ice Princesses

Archer finally broke his gaze from the floor, his eyes meeting mine briefly before shifting away. So, he was no more talkative here than on the rink.

I swallowed the disappointment that threatened to wash over me. Maybe I had hoped that this moment in my room would provide an opportunity for a deeper connection with Archer, a chance to break through the barriers he had built around himself. But it seemed that those barriers were still firmly in place, even within the privacy of my own space.

In an attempt to break the awkward silence that had settled between us, I gestured towards Adelynn's bed, the bottom bunk. "Make yourself comfortable," I said, my voice laced with nervousness. "I'll just... be in the common room."

"Okay," Avianna said, somewhat dismissively.

"I'll see you later," I said. I glanced at Archer again and as if trying to pass on a secret message, I said emphatically, "Soon."

He glanced at me and if I didn't know better, I would say he even smiled.

nine

“What are you doing?”Adelynn asked groggily. I froze in place—with one leg in my pants and my other foot halfway off the ground—and looked any her guiltily. Normally, I was pretty quiet when I was getting ready to go out, but tonight, I seemed to be running into everything. My hip was still throbbing from where I’d hit it against the corner of my desk.

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered. I quickly finished pulling my pants on and grabbed my hair elastic to tie my braid.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“Late,” I whispered. I snuck a glance at our shared alarm clock, which was sitting on the nightstand beside her, but turned to face the middle of the room. When I was lying in bed, desperately trying to fall asleep, the last thing I needed was to stare at some insanely bright numbers, telling me exactly how long I’d been stuck like that. “Go to sleep. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“M’kay.” She rolled over to face the wall and was probably asleep again in seconds. I made sure to be quieter after that and did my best not to run into any other furniture as I snuck around the room, grabbing anything I needed for my nightly skate.

When I got to the rink, I realized the impossible had happened: I was there before Archer.

Every time I’d come to the rink since starting at Westwood, Archer had been there. I wasn’t sure when exactly he liked to show up or how long he always spent—some nights he left at the same time as me, but other nights he was still on the ice when I left the building—but he was always there when I arrived. I never thought there was any chance of it happening.

The lights were on, though, just like usual, so I guess Archer wasn’t the one who turned them on every night. Or he was, but for some reason, he’d left early tonight but didn’t turn them off. Maybe because he knew I was coming? As much as I liked the idea of that, I was pretty sure it wasn’t the case. For one thing, I didn’t think he cared enough about me or my skating to bother doing that. Plus, he didn’t know whether or not I was going to be here. This wasn’t an every night thing for me. It seemed like it was for him since he was always here when I came and it’s seemed unlikely that we always just chose the same nights. But he wasn’t here now, so maybe I was wrong.

Regardless of the reason, I was going to take advantage of it. I took a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of the ice fill my lungs. It smelled like home, like endless possibilities and dreams waiting to be realized. Pushing aside the pressure that threatened to overwhelm me every time I came here, I stepped onto the ice, feeling its crispness beneath my blades. The world around me faded away as I began to skate, my body responding instinctively to being on the ice. My movements were fluid, each twist and turn a testament to years of hard work and dedication. As I glided across the ice, I could feel myself becoming one with it, every muscle in my body working in perfect harmony. Nothing made me happier than being here.

I’d just gotten through my whole short routine—nailing it, unlike how all my official practices had been going lately—when I heard a noise by the entrance to the ice. I spun around, certain that I was going to be busted by a teacher or whoever else was in the building at night. Instead, I saw Archer standing there with his arms crossed and a surly expression on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked without thinking. His glare only deepened. He stepped no the ice and skated toward me, stopping a few feet away.

“How did you get in?” He asked.

“What?”

“You got into the arena,” he said, as if it wasn’t something I’d done multiple times by now. “How?”

“Through the door.”

“You mean you didn’t teleport inside?” He asked sarcastically. I stared at him in surprise. That was the most variance I’d ever heard in his voice.

“How did you get in?” He asked again. I ignored him as I started skating again, gliding down the rink in easy, fluid motions. It was rare to get the rink this empty, where I didn’t have to worry about people spinning and jumping around me, and I liked to take advantage of it for as long as I could.

Well, I took advantage of it until Archer came up right beside me, stopping just short of body-checking me.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to get into people’s personal space?” I asked.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people’s questions?”

“I didn’t ignore your question. You just didn’t like my answer.”

“You didn’t answer it.”

“I came in through the door. What more do you want from me?”

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