CHAPTER SIX | TAKE THE LOW ROAD

 I stared at the snowflakes as they drifted through the air, falling from darkened clouds and onto the ground. Snow had always been a wonder for me. Snow and stars. They were beautiful. 

My iPod was shifted next to me, and my headphones were clapped tightly over my ears. I had six pairs of headphones and ear buds, don't ask me why.

"We've got no where to run, they've all got loaded guns," I hummed under my breath as my wide eyes followed the intricate ice carvings planting onto my window. "Oh no, please God tell me we're dreaming..." 

It was times like these when I felt like I had my own place. Like I held and stood for something, actually something. Instead of being the sarcastic bitch of a figure skater I was Bristol Martyn, the too-tall sixteen-year-old girl who's failing English.

Seriously. I had a C in the class.

I mindlessly played with a dangling string on my sweat shirt that was three sizes too big for me. It was the beginning of December, a Friday night, and my homework was long abandoned. I had more important things to do anyway.

Like stare at snowflakes.

This is why you're failing English.

I traced the grooves of the window sill with my pinkie finger, enjoying the way the cool metal felt against my warm skin. I liked winter. Not just because I could venture out to lakes to skate instead of just rinks, but because it was ... cozy. 

Cozy.

Yeah, cozy.

***

I lounged on the couch, glaring at the screen that was currently playing an episode of The Bachelor. I was bored to death but I didn't even want to stand to change the channel.

A knock sounded on the door suddenly, loud and staccato. I groaned softly, dropping my head back. Now I actually had to get up. 

I stood just as the episode ended and glanced at the clock. I'd actually lived through three hours of Bachelor re-runs. Rolling my eyes at myself, I stepped to the door and opened it without glancing outside the peephole.

"Yo, Ev, I got the ... whoa."

My eyes flashed up to meet a pair of dark grey ones that were wide opened, and staring at me intently. I awkwardly shifted my weight from foot to foot, glancing down at my pale toes. 

"Hi?" He tried. I bit my lip and looked up. "Evan didn't mention having a girlfriend over or anything..."

"Whoa, whoa," I said. "Fucking back up. I am not that ... that thing's girlfriend," I cleared waving my arms around. "And you better not be bringing drugs, because I will not let the headmaster come in and smell fucking weed all up in the -"

"Chill," he rolled his eyes. "It's not drugs. Evan missed school on Thursday and requested notes," he waved a notebook around. "Besides, if you're not a girlfriend or whatever, who are you?"

I shrugged, "The girl who moved for the skating championship. Evan is currently being a lazy ass and hasn't come out of his room all day, so I can just slide those under his door," I said, holding out my left hand expectantly with an arched brow.

"I think that he'd rather I'd give it to him in person, you know..." he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Because ... well ..."

"Look, um, person," I said, leaning against the frame. "It's nearly nine o'clock and I wasn't really expecting any visitors," I huffed a breath and stared at him unflinchingly. "Plus my day has been pretty shit and I'd rather you not stay here and witness me slowly die from exhaustion."

"Why don't you just go to sleep?"

"Not that simple," I clicked, and shrugged. "So I can just give them to him-"

"Pretty sure you'd burn the shit out of them," Evan pushed me to the side and took the sheets of notepaper from his friend. "Thanks, Aiden. I'll make sure to include you in my will," he winked and ignored my presence completely.

"No problem," Aiden said. "I should be in it anyway, though."

"Fuck that."

They began to laugh like they had some sort of inside joke concerning this subject. I rolled my eyes internally, thinking, boys. Now just let me say that sassily whilst snapping my fingers in a Z formation.

Don't make me snap my fingers in a Z formation, hip rotation, exclamation, elbow-elbow, wrist-wrist, flip my hair and look at this.

What the fuck is wrong with me.

I must've been spacing out because I jumped back as a pair of pale hands clapped in front of my eyes. I crinkled my nose and glared at Evan who was looking at me with a raised brow. Rolling my eyes, I turned toward the kitchen's general direction.

"If anyone needs me - please don't need me - I'll be stuffing my face over there," I pointed toward the kitchen opening. "Again ... please don't need me."

Evan scoffed as I trotted away, humming some pop song under my breath as I grabbed a glass and practically threw open the refrigerator's door.

I mentally cheered when I saw that the gallon of chocolate milk was still fully intact as I brought it from its hiding place behind a jar of peanut butter.

Why Evan keeps peanut butter there is beyond me.

I shook it until bubbles swirled and poured three-fourths of my glass of chocolaty goodness. I was just about to walk to my room whilst sipping the Godliness of all drinks when I heard my name coming from a deep, male timbre of a voice.

Let me rephrase that - Evan was talking about me. 

I paused near the opening of the door as Evan said, "Yeah. Her name's Bristol, why do you ask?"

"Because I didn't want to ask her myself," Aiden replied. I arched a brow. What? 

"Don't tell me you're completely gone on some chick you've literally met, like, two bloody minutes ago." Evan said, quick to reply to him. My mouth opened slightly in surprise.

Okay, what?

Aiden hesitated, "No ... I just think she's cute, is all."

"That thing is nowhere near cute." 

"Funny, she kind of said that about you, too." I hid the snort that broke through behind my hand, and kept my laugh in. "No, but really. She seems quite nice."

"She's got no tits."

Okay, that was offensive.

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the millionth time and sipped on my chocolate milk. I thought for a second to go out there and snap my fucking fingers in a 'z' formation, but then again, snapping fingers is never the answer.

Again, what the fuck is wrong with me.

***

"Okay, watch me," James demanded. Fritz and I shook our heads. It was nine thirty, and we were the only people left at the rink. The speakers that had been hooked up on two sides of the rink were connected to James' MP3. "Click the song! Click it!"

I started it and then crossed my arms. 

The song started with chords off of a keyboard and my jaw dropped at the tune. Holy shit, James!

"When I see you,"  The song played as I stared, wide-eyed, at James' leaping figure. "I run out of words to say. I wouldn't leave you, 'cause you're that type of girl, to make me stay." 

"What the freak, James!" Fritz cried. James zoomed on past us, grinning widely.

"I told you - something Akon!" In a too-perfect 'I' position, he spun around and simultaneously screamed, "I see the guys try'na holla, girl I don't want to bother you," with his arms outstretched, he leapt three feet into the air. "Can I be your baby father? Girl, I just wanna show you..." 

" 'Cause you're independent and you've got my attention!" Fritz cried, and I laughed so hard that my stomach began to hurt. 

After another two minutes of the two boys screaming lyrics and James twirling on across the ice, the song ended with a few upbeat notes and I was in agony from laughing too hard. My face felt warm and my stomach hurt.

"You guys," I choked. "Are imbeciles."

"Don't use big words I don't know," James complained playfully, coming off the rink with his face flushed as he took his guards from Fritz. "Damn, I think I did pretty well if I do say so myself." 

"That was fantastic," I breathed, gasping for air to fill my deprived lungs. "Completely fucking perfect."

"Big girl words," James rang, and I found myself grinning at him.

We were all kids, young, stupid, and ambitious, but that didn't stop us from being idiots who actually enjoy life the way it is, most of the time. I was already so syked out for this competition I wasn't sure which song I was going to perform. I faintly remembered Hilly jokingly tell me I should perform S & M by Rihanna, but I'd rolled my eyes and called her a kinky whore.

But now, seeing James practically perfect the art of skating to an Akon song, I think I'd actually go with something as sexual or ... Rihanna-related as that.

Rihanna related.

Fritz threw James' MP3 in the redhead's general direction before turning to me, "So."

I nodded, "So."

"Let's go stuff our faces with Nutella and candy," James piped up, grinning widely and making a 'rock out' symbol with his fingers. I rolled my eyes.

***

I knew I was dreaming. I knew it. There was a dark edge to my world as I flung around gracelessly, trying to find a way to escape. 

Oh no, I tried to think, but my voice rang out with the plea instead. Oh my God, oh no. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go, let me go.

Let me go.

"Bristol," his voice was as fresh as a clear spring day, sharp and precise. "I can see you, stupid. You're literally behind a tree ... wow."

I'd rolled my eyes and stepped out, waving my arms around in a big circle. "Yep. Whoop-de-do, I'm here." I plopped down on the grass angrily, almost frustratingly.

"Hey," Adrian said gently, resting himself next to me and reaching out to grip my hand. I sighed and looked away, taking in the warm afternoon sun on a rare balmy day. It was only May, but the heat was starting to slowly take over Toronto. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Grandma Daye," I mumbled under my breath. Adrian tensed beside me, his fingers stilling and feeling cool between my own. "She's not getting any better."

He took a deep breath and closed his light eyes, which seemed to grow shades closer to the morning sky every day. "It's leukemia, Bris," his voice sounded watery, an inch tall. "I ..."

"I know," I muttered. "I just want her to get better, Adrian," I took my hand from his and dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. "She's my world."

It was a moment before I was pressed to his chest, hard muscles bunching under my shoulder as he was a bit too developed for a fifteen-year-old. "I know, B. Stay strong for me, you hear?" I nodded and sniffled.

"I know," I repeated, sounding low and like I'd been crying. But my eyes were dry. "I've got a competition next week, in France for fuck's sake," I said hoarsely. "I'm going against all of the good skaters, Adrian."

"You're good."

"Not as good as them. I'm going to get my ass handed to me on a silver platter," I paused. "Nope, it'll be on a bronze one, because that's the only medal I can achieve."

"You need to be more optimistic about this."

"Shut it, Adrian. I'm already freaking out enough," I sighed and settled my shoulders against his. "They're going to murder me. I can't do this." 

 "Bristol," he cupped my face in his hands. "You're going to go out there. You're going to skate your heart out, and you're going to bring me back a first place trophy, medal, whatever," he took a deep breath. "I know you can do this."

I looked away from his captivating eyes. "You don't know that," I whimper sadly. "I might fail."

"I'll be here when you get back, I promise," pulling one hand from my face, he takes my hand and presses a gentle kiss to my shaking fingers. But could it be counted as a kiss? Just a simple, light touch of his lips to my skin. "Can't really afford a ticket to France."

"I can stuff you in my suitcase."

"Smart, but no."

For a while we both sat in silence, me listening to his heartbeat and him occasionally kissing my knuckles with a brush so light I hardly feel it. 

It's only when I turned my head, did our mouths meet, and, I'd decided, I didn't want to let go.

My eyes flew open and I let out a too-loud gasp, and my head whipped from side-to-side as I glared at the dim, blurred surroundings. Finding no one, or nothing, I sank back into the covers and rubbed my face with my palm. My fingers were cold, as cold as the rain splashing across the windows.

Taking deep breaths, I fixated my look on my phone only for it to be five A.M. Groaning, I dropped my head back and exhaled; the air was so cold it came out as a blurb of foggy breath, looking almost like cigarette smoke. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything except my old best friend.

Or boyfriend.

Actually, we never cleared up what we were. He'd date the girls, I'd be the rebound he'd kissed occasionally.

I turned my head into my pillow and screamed as loud as I could, until my lungs were begging for air. I strained my chest for another three seconds before leaping out of my bed and pacing around the room.

Night terrors. Not exactly.

Insomnia? No.

I closed my eyes and dug my hands into my hair, before dropping my head back to stare at the off-white ceiling. My nails scratched my scalp, but the pain shocked me back into reality. I gritted my teeth and resumed my incessant pacing.

Get over it, Bristol.

Drawing in a deep, hollow-sounding breath of air, I felt another pent-up scream curling in my chest. Doing my best to swallow it down, I knew I couldn't spend another torturous minute in this room. I felt like I was being suffocated, and I was terrified.

Like getting choked out by Ronald McDonald, huh?

I grasped the knob on the door and yanked it open, casting a quick glance at Evan's door. It was opened slightly, and I could see the pale skin of his back rising and falling gently. I walked past it, settling myself on the couch. 

I brought my knees to my chest, setting my chin on them. I flattened my ratchet-looking hair and sighed gently. I shivered from the cold.

Or maybe it was from nostalgia.

Something about that put me at ease, and I found myself slipping, falling under dark cascades of colour and dream.

If only for five minutes...

***

"Fuck me," I dropped my head back and let out a loud groan. Hilly rolled her eyes and shook her foam cup.

"I don't roll that way but it's nice to know you find me attractive," Hilly's voice was sarcastic as she leaned back in her seat. We were in the common room and I was cramming for an English quiz on poets.

Meaning I was being drilled on which cousin Edgar Allen Poe shagged.

I glanced outside the window; there had been light snowfall for the past few days and I was waiting for it to clear up so I could take a walk or something. I was athletic and sometimes I added running to my list of physical activities. 

"Ugh, look who it is," Hilly remarked as Caleb O'Connors sauntered in, his arm draped across a brunette's shoulder. Hilly's face was soon swept by a bright blush. "The arse hole."

Caleb glanced toward our table. Hilly glared at him as she squeezed her water bottle so hard the plastic all but crumbled in her fingers. He gave his best panty-dropping grin and hustled over to us, making me groan and toss my head onto the table, resounding with a loud smack!

"Hillary!" Caleb grinned brightly at the flushed blonde. "How wonderful it is t-"

"It is not fucking wonderful you overbearing, condescending twat!" She exploded. "All you ever do is bother me, tease me, belittle me and I am sick of it!" Her eyes were alight with anger. My own widened slightly, or maybe that was my eyebrows raising. "Like, Christ! Leave me the fuck alone and get out of my life."

With that last little detonation, she pushed herself away from the table, gathered her books, and stormed out. I watched her go with a slight open mouth.

"Bristol," Caleb's voice was quavering slightly. "What the fuck crawled up her arse?"

I swallowed my harsh, sarcastic words and picked my own surprised ass up, and, while pooling my binder into my arms, gave him a quizzical look, "I don't know..."

Quick to find out what the actual hell was wrong with her, I hurried out the door and bit my lower lip, glancing to my left and right quickly.

"Hilly!" She was huddled near the gymnasium when I finally found her. Cheeks swept still with the light blush, she was heaving with heavy breaths. "What's wrong?"

Settling myself next to her, I dropped my binder next to her forgotten books and spread my fingers out onto my legging-clad thighs. She scowled to herself before whipping her head towards me, straight platinum locks falling into her eyes. She spat a piece that found its way into her mouth.

"Fucking O'Connors, he's wrong."

"Care to tell me why?"

Hilly hesitated before stating firmly, "I slept with him."

Plot fucking twist.

"Christ..." my jaw dropped. Wow. I hadn't even suspected ... whoa. "You ... shagged Caleb O'Connors?" My voice was an octave higher than normal.

She swallowed. "Don't use that word," she said weakly. "It wasn't shagging ... it was making love."

I gasped sharply, "Making love?" I choked out. Double plot fucking twist! 

"Well, yeah..."

"But he's such a hoser!"

"Don't call him that. Also, your Canadian is showing." She pointed out dully. What? She was defending the twit? Where did her mind go?

I groaned. "Why can't you just appreciate a good pair of boobs instead of him?"

"Believe me, I want to," she sighed. "Then he acted like it never happened and this is the one interaction we've had in six months."

"Crazy," I muttered.

"I know." She sighed. "But I am insane. So let's leave it at that and get some grub."

A/N:

Holy **** it's been over a ****ing month since I've ****ing updated?

I'd like to explain before someone decides to shoot me, please.

Recently our end-of-term tests are coming up soon after spring break, and that is TOO soon for me. So we've been cramming with study hall and packets and shizz. Woo.

Another - my best friend is moving away and these five years have f*cking rocked, I don't know what I'd do without her. I can barely stand most people - she makes the exception. She's been there for me for like, ever, and now she's leaving and it's like what. I'm just savouring these last few months I've got.

I've been accepted into Honour Band! Our concert was just a few nights ago and we rocked it. I had to buy a nice dress and stuff but whatever. My apparently 'amazing' alto sax skills paid off because I was accepted into it. 

Also, writer's block hit me like a f*cking truck and stuff. No, it didn't just hit me - it's beaten the utter poo out of me and decided to throw in glitter and cheap perfume. Ugh ...

So, I apologise for the lateness and utter shit iness of this chapter. Hopefully the next one won't be so rocky.

(I've used the word 'rock' wayyyy too many times but whatever...)

Until next time,

~Jayy