Chapter 1- Get Off My Ice
A girl in a black jump suit, with a black bag slung over her shoulder, entered the ice skating rink. Her black hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her amythest eyes sparkled, but turned hard when she saw the ice rink.
'What are they doing here? I reserved the slot.' Sam Manson thought, looking coldly at the hockey team.
Taking off the jacket, she revealed muscled arms and a black leotard with skirt, very plain and obviously a warm up leotard, for skating, and she pulled on the black ice skates.
She glided onto the ice skates, and stood there, watching the hockey team, her eyebrows raised, waiting for them to leave, or notice her and yell. Slowly, the players stopped, and stared at the girl on the ice.
"Get off the ice, twirl girl." One of the helmet heads snapped, not even removing the red helmet.
"Look, I reserved the slot, so, just let me practice for an hour and a half, and then you can have the ice back." Sam said, rolling her eyes.
"No. There are more of us, and we have a championship in a few days." The same boy replied, "We need the time."
"I'll skate ya for it." Sam said, attitude and cockiness dripping from each word.
"That'll be the day. Wanna get your butt kicked on the ice, girl? Be my guest." The boy said, grabbing his hockey stick.
"Gimme that." Sam said, grabbing a boy's hockey stick, "One on one, first one to make a shot wins."
"Okay. Let's do this." The boy said, not even getting ready, faking a yawn, "I'll go easy on you."
"Your choice." Sam said.
"No helmet?"
"Why? Do you play dirty?" Sam retaliated.
"Just drop the puck." He snapped to a teammate.
The minute the puck was dropped, Sam easily got the puck, and did a triple (literally) over his hockey stick. She leaped to the goal, keeping the puck, and effortlessly made a perfect bank shot.
"Okay, now that that ordeal is over, get off my ice." She said, shaking her hair out.
The whole hockey team stared at the girl in awe and slight horror. The cocky boy who had challenged her took off his helmet, to reveal the cutest boy she had ever seen.
She took in a breath sharply, but kept a cocky look on her face.
His black hair fell in his face, barely covering the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.
"I bet you couldn't figure skate competively if you tried." She said, leaning against the hockey stick.
"I bet I could." He said, his blue eyes sparkling with the idea of competition.
"Pairs?"
"Yea."
"Then skate with me."
"What?" Danny Fenton stared at the ice skater, his blue eyes wide.
"You said you could skate. Try it." The girl replied, spreading her arms out.
"I don't do leotards." He said. His team snickered.
"I knew it." She said, skating away.
"What?" He asked, concerned his solid reputation was about to be tarnished.
"You know you couldn't do a triple. You know you couldn't do a jump. You know you couldn't lift me up in the air, and throw me where I would land on my feet."
'I know I could. I've done ice skating for like three years. But, I don't know if I want to try competively, but my team would freak if they knew.'
"Get ready." He said, gearing himself up.
"For what?" A hint of nervousness edged her voice, just slightly.
"I'm gonna hold you." Danny replied, 'Wow, that sounded wrong', "Not like that!"
"Uh-…" She started, but, watched him gain speed, skating to her, she got ready to fall, but locked her muscles, and got ready to meet the air, then the ice.
He grabbed her waist, and pulled her up, over his head, where she stretched out in the air. Beautiful. Flying. Flow. It was gorgeous. He brought her down, slowly. Where she glided along, trying to compose her thoughts.
She turned slowly, looking at the beautiful blue eyes, "You're good."
"Whatever." He said, shrugging. He didn't want to be a leotard boy, his whole team was watching in amazement.
"Skate with me. Be my partner." She said, her big violet eyes wide.
"I don't know."
"Come on. I need a partner, and you, you need to skate. No one is that good on the first time." She said, pleadingly.
"Okay… But no leotards." He sighed.
"YES! Oh, I'm Sam. Here's my phone number." She said, writing it down on his hand quickly, "Call me tonight."
"Alright. I'm Danny."
"One more thing."
"Sure." He replied, 'Why does she get under my skin? Why couldn't I say no?'
"Get off my ice." She skated off, an effortless triple.
'She is beautiful.' He thought, 'I mean, that was beautiful. The move.'
He skated off the ice, and clomped to the guy's locker room, where his teammates met him.
"Wow! You landed it with a hot girl, and you get to hold her close. Sounds like a good deal." Tucker Foley, his best friend, said, with a big grin.
"So now you're gonna where a leotard. Nice, dude. Have your man-cred ripped out from under you, just for a girl?" A teammate spat.
"You're just jealous." Tucker snapped, defending his best friend, "It'll be cool."
"Whatever." Danny rolled his eyes.
Sam grinned as she skated around the rink, she had a partner, and she could compete for nationals. All she had to do was get the coach, Jazz Fenton, to let Danny play.
"Jazz! Hey, you ready to skate?" Sam asked, seeing her red haired instructor enter the rink.
"Maybe I should be asking you that question." Jazz laughed, "Alright, warm up, then we'll start."
Danny clomped home in his heavy snow boots, and started feeling aprehensive about the whole 'figure skating competition' thing.
But once he was home, watched some movies, and had eaten about three bowls of popcorn with Tucker, he felt better.
"Dude. Don't you gotta call Sarah?" Tucker asked, glancing away from his PDA for a second.
"Who's Sarah?" Danny asked, his eyes glued to the TV screen.
"The girl who kicks butt at ice hockey, and figure skating, your partner at figure skating." Tucker said, raising his eyebrows.
"Oh! You're talking about Sam. I'll go call her. Hold on." Danny replied, rolling his eyes.
Picking up his black razor phone, he dialed the number carefully.
Ring… Ring… Ring…
"Hello?" A female voice answered, a voice that was harsh, but familiar.
"Uh, Sam?" Danny asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
"This is her coach, Jazz Fenton, and it would be nice if you would STOP CALLING DURING PRACTICE, DASH!"
"I'm not Dash! I'm Danny- wait, JAZZ? Wait, who's Dash?"
"Danny? As in my brother Danny? How do you know Sam?"
"I met her today at hockey practice, she had the slot after us, and then, now, we're, uh…"
"Dating, I can't believe she's cheating on Dash, with you, Danny, I thought you were honest. I thought she was honest! DANNY!" Jazz yelled into the phone, considering hanging up.
"We're NOT DATING," Danny said, blushing, "I'm gonna be her partner."
Silence followed this remark.
"Are you serious? Hockey and figure skating are not the same thing, Danny." Jazz remarked, refraining from rolling her eyes.
"No, I took three years of figure skating, competitive, Jazz, while you were at college, before you started coaching. I took it secretly, so I wouldn't be laughed at." Danny exclaimed, still blushing.
Tucker heard this remark, "Danny's… Danny didn't tell me! Wait he's talking to … Jazz."
Tucker and Jazz had dated for a few months, before Jazz went to college, but then when she went away, she broke up with him, because she didn't like long distance relationships. He didn't know she was back in town. This thought made his stomach start flipping around.
"Alright, Danny, one chance. You have one chance to prove you guys can work together as partners, professionally. Tomorrow, be at the rink at six a.m. sharp." Jazz said, "Bye, little brother. Good luck."