Status: Still being thought out.

Carvings in the Ice

Making Moves

Annabelle crinkled her eyes against the blinding white of the ice as she sat in the stands, waiting for the puck to drop. Mirai nudged her and pointed toward a figure in a red jersey, the number 16 and last name TOEWS on the back. "Is that him?" she asked.
He was stretching, unaware of the girl's finger, but Annabelle pulled her arm down anyway. "Don't point," she whispered. "How did you know that?"
"Duh, Google," Mirai answered nonchalantly, flipping back her sleek dark hair. Johnny Weir, sitting on Annabelle's left, giggled.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Well, come on, Anna, you walked into that one." He made a face at her. "He doesn't look half bad from here."
"Guys, I'm not here for him. I'm here to support Patrick, remember?"
Johnny rolled his eyes, and Mirai snorted, "Suuuuure, you are. I'm 16, but I'm better at this high school stuff than you are, remember?"
"Well, excuse me, missy." Anna flicked a piece of popcorn at her.
"Oh..." Johnny said suddenly, looking at his phone. "Um, don't hurt me, babe, but we have a tagalong."
"Who?"
"Evan." He texted something and then closed the phone. "He was wondering what we were up to and I told him and... yeah... he's on his way."
"Johnny!"
"I'm not a good liar, Anna! Come on. Why can't you just tell him you're not interested already?"
"Wait, what's going on?" Mirai asked, puzzled.
Anna watched Jonathan skate to a pile of pucks, selecting one and shooting at Martin Brodeur. "My night just got ten times more awkward."
"Evan Lysacek has a thing for Annabelle," Johnny explained loftily. "And she doesn't have the balls to tell him she's not interested."
"Because he's gorgeous and kind of a bitch." His mouth dropped. "Oh, don't look so shocked, sir. You of all people said it."
"Well, yeah, because of the crap he said about me, but... I've never heard you say that," he said admiringly.
"Well, it's kind of true. And who even knows if he has that much of a thing for me, anyway..."
"Well, at any rate, he wants you. And he's headed right for us."
Anna looked up to see Evan walking up the stairs to them- tall, toned, handsome Evan, wearing a self-assured smile. "Hey, Anna," he said, nodding.
"Hi," she replied, momentarily struck by just how good he looked. His eyes were bright, deep embers glowing out from an angular face, high cheekbones, prominent nose, olive skin. He was lanky, but she could still see the taut muscles in his arms. "Um... here, have a seat."
"Hey, Mirai," he said, and she smiled and made a place for him to sit. Johnny rolled his eyes. "Johnny," Evan said after a moment, and he fake-smiled and waggled his fingers.
"Behave," Anna whispered to him while Evan looked at the ice.
"Hey, I'm not the one you have to worry about."
"Hush."
"So, U.S.- Canada?" Evan asked, breaking up the conversation between them. "I didn't know you were into hockey, Anna."
"Well... yeah, I kind of am. And my friend is on the American team," she said after a moment, wondering how on Earth she felt so uncomfortable now.
"Oh, really? Who's that?"
"Patrick Kane."
"Oh. Nice." He smiled; clearly, he'd wondered if that player were enough of a threat for him. If only he knew about her crush on Jonathan. "I'm not really into the sport myself... but it should be interesting, right? I mean, big rivalry and all."
Big rivalry and all. Did he know how clueless he sounded? she thought, forcing herself to smile sycophantically and nod. Before she could say anything, though, Johnny cut in.
"Oh, tons , I'm sure," he said loudly. "I especially love all those big fit hockey asses, don't you, Ev- I mean, Annabelle?"
He batted his lashes, looking coolly into Evan's narrowing eyes. "Johnny, could you not do this now?" Anna asked through gritted teeth, smiling fiercely at him. Mirai stifled a giggle and feigned an unusual interest in the players gearing up for the faceoff. The referee prepared to drop the puck, and just before he did, she felt Evan's left arm move to casually cup the back of her seat. Oh, Lordy, she exhaled silently, hoping he didn't think this counted as a date.

She had no idea where this thing with Evan Lysacek even began. She did know that he was gorgeous, and talented, and gave off the idea of the typical American gentleman. Always smiling and friendly, soft-spoken in interviews, willing to give others credit where credit was due.
However, he had a tendency to be snide. Sarcastic. Rude, even. Especially when it came to a guy like Johnny Weir, whom everyone knew was the shit-stirrer of the figure skating world. He would insinuate things once rumors picked up, as they always did, about Evan's sexuality... to which Evan would vehemently deny, and act insulted by. Bad enough, but when figure skating's golden boy started acting supremely snotty to the sport's notorious bad boy, things got dark. Very dark.
Annabelle couldn't remember a time when she and Johnny weren't together during competitions. She remembered when they first met, herself a shy 16-year-old at her first senior Nationals, him an outspoken, flamboyant skater in his early 20s. She was on the sidelines, waiting for her turn in the free program as Kimmie Meissner went through hers. Her stomach was twisted into knots, her hands sweaty and shaking. Suddenly, she felt a presence at her side. She looked up into startlingly close blue eyes.
"I've heard she goes down a lot," he said seriously.
"Well, she... she looks okay here. I mean, she hasn't fallen..." she trailed off, wondering why he had such an amused look on his face.
"Oh, sweetie. I mean... goes
down. There. You know?" He looked straight into her eyes, and then down to his crotch. Annabelle knew she was getting red in the face. He smiled, patted her shoulder, and walked off. Anna found out later that it was a lie, but she did place above Kimmie (only to suffer a serious fracture in her foot and be unable to go to Torino). From that point on, Johnny Weir and Annabelle Landon were friends.
Meanwhile, Evan, a year younger than Johnny, was quiet, a bit aloof. Anna started out with a crush on him, on his soft warm eyes and his shy smile. She stopped when she saw how he treated Johnny- as if he were lesser-than just because he was always a step below Evan on the podium.
They grew up, and Annabelle sprouted a few extra curves, and all of a sudden there were whispers. "Evan and Anna...? He's got his eye on her... But she's so young, not even 18... not 19... 20? Well..."
Anna was no longer interested. Evan could be sweet, but he could also be arrogant, and that wasn't her style. He was immensely smooth and strong on the ice, but he let things get to head a bit... and she had no time.
Now, though, she didn't know what she could do to stop him. It seemed to be now that he was making his move.
♠ ♠ ♠
this game is going to take up a couple of chapters. Just thought I'd add some drama into the mix. ;)
Music to Write By: Oil and Water- Incubus