Crystal Frost's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

The game ended with another win. Crystal sat in her seat until the arena emptied, watching the zamboni circle the ice. She'd come here for two seasons, and Gerard had finally looked at her. It hadn't changed anything. She stood and walked toward the exit, her legs stiff from the cold bench. She pushed through the double doors into the night air. Gerard stood alone near the corner of the small arena building, his gear bag dropped at his feet. A broken hockey stick leaned against the wall beside him—someone must have left it there after the game. He was looking down at his phone, his breath forming white clouds in the cold. Crystal froze. She could walk past him. She could pretend she hadn't seen him. But her feet kept moving forward, carrying her closer to the corner where he stood. He looked up. Their eyes met for the second time that night. "Hey," Gerard said. His voice was casual, like he was greeting a teammate. "You're the one who sits in the new spot now, right? By the ice?" Crystal's throat tightened. He had noticed. Not her face, not her name, but the location where she sat. She nodded, unable to form words. Gerard smiled, just a little. "Good spot. Better view than where most people sit." He picked up his gear bag and slung it over his shoulder. "See you next game." Then he walked away, leaving her standing alone in the cold. Crystal pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, the bright team colors suddenly feeling less like a disguise and more like a declaration. He had spoken to her. Five sentences, maybe six. Nothing about them suggested romance or recognition or any of the things she'd imagined for two years. But he had stopped. He had noticed where she sat. And when she came back next week, he would remember that she existed. The fantasy she'd protected was gone, but something smaller and more frightening had taken its place—a real person who might speak to her again. She turned toward home, her heart beating faster than it should.