That little minx!

This was Aaron's time on the ice, and he would not give it up without a fight. Some days the only thing keeping him sane was this hour or two alone on the ice every morning. No matter how frustrated he was with his performance during competitions, no matter how hard he worked himself during his practice sessions, the moments he had on the fresh surface in the morning were his reward to himself that he kept working.

It was the only time in his life that he had experienced anything near a zen moment. In the morning the ice was smooth and perfect since the zamboni refreshed the ice at the close of day and his blades slide over the ice with next to no resistance. This was what utter peace was to Aaron.

Beyond all of that, this was part of his daily routine! Every single morning since starting high school, he was the first person to the rink, and he opened it up for all the staff, not to mention the first skaters of the day that would start coming later. Most importantly, he was always the first one on the day's ice. 

And now Elise was trying to take his time away, again!

Of course Coach was going to just roll over and let her do it. She had always been his favorite. Even after she had just up and left them for bigger and better things, he went on and on about how wonderful a skater she was and how she was going to do great things. But now, when everything had gone wrong for her, she was back again, without Coach questioning her at all!

Elise had no loyalty, and never would. She would float from coach to coach without a second thought, just like she did with anyone she dated. Because that was another item on the list of things he was asked frequently.

Why don't you use a more well known piece of music?

Why don't you move your quad loop to the second half of your free skate program?

Why don't you have a girlfriend? Elise has a new boyfriend and they make a wonderful couple.

And on and on and on. Aaron could recite the questions and lectures from memory because they happened so often. At least with the questions about his skating, he was able to discuss the reasons for his choices with his Coach. It just seemed so much more difficult to discuss his personal life with his father.

Even though they were the same person. It was like Gerald was a completely different person at home than he was at the rink.

As the anger roiled through him, he pushed off the boards, using the momentum to pick up speed as he raced around the track. The feeling of flying over the ice propelled only by the power of his own muscles was invigorating as the world became a blur around him.

But it was not enough of a distraction to only have to focus on not falling on his face. Muttering to himself, he pulled up, slowing just enough that he could begin improvising a footwork path as he had been doing before. He had to focus on every motion so his blades didn't catch on each other as he rocked and spun and changed direction on his way down the ice. That was enough to force some of the anger away from his mind.

But not enough that he could return to the moment he had been having before being so rudely interrupted. Gone were the cheering crowds that had filled his imagination at the beginning of his skate. Gone was the judges stand where the officials had been nodding their approval at his performance. And most of all: gone was the sense of peace that he had acheived.

Instead, the air was filled only with the sound of his skates moving smoothly over the ice and the distant sound of maintenance doing their job. In his anger he hadn't even remembered to put back in his earbuds for music. But most importantly the fun of the skate was gone, replaced by thoughts of what motion he was going to do next instead of just going with what felt best.

After one last halfhearted attempt at a decent footwork pass, Aaron exited the ice, hitting the boards with annoyance on his way past. He had started the day feeling better than usual, but ending his session like this was frustrating. He was going to feel off kilter all day, not to mention just as flustered later when he had his session with Coach.

But, if he managed to move quick enough, he could avoid another encounter with Elise for the day.

With that in mind, he sat on the bench next to his bag and started the process of removing his skates. Starting with loosening the laces, and pulling them off his feet, he carefully wiped the blades and boots dry of any moisture to prevent rusting and cracking before returning the blade covers and slipping them into his bag. Then it was a quick slipping on of his athletic shoes before he was out the door like a flash and running back down the road to his dormitory.

For now, avoiding the trouble named Elise was the only way he was going to make it through the day. Later he would contemplate if it would be worth it to skip training that afternoon for the first time in his life. There were others that skipped training regularly without any complaint. He would probably just get a lecture and assigned more conditioning drills.

It might be worth it to avoid his troubles for just that one night.