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Rumi laced up her skates. A pair of Jackson Premiere FS2800’s with Coronation Ace blades. Her aunt's latest attempt at mending their relationship, through money. Typical for Celine.
Rumi hadn't been a figure skater for long, only starting two years ago. She loved it, though. The feeling she had on the ice was unmatched. Skating was the only time Rumi felt truly free. In a way it saved her.
That was only when other people on the ice were courteous. Aka, not hockey players.
She hated hockey players. They smelled bad, skated around the rink at breakneck speed, got in the way of her spins, and would harass figure skaters, including herself.
Rumi’s mind drifted to a time last week a particular hockey player would not leave her alone, until he successfully made her spin out and fall. She scoffed at the memory.
Often, she would pay extra for solo ice time, to avoid this, but those sessions were only 30 minutes. Not nearly enough time. Which is what brought her here today: Public Skate. The worst time to practice.
But it was two full hours, and Rumi needed every minute she could get skating.
She finished tying her skates, the zamboni was still on the ice. Clearing out the grooves from a previous session.
Rumi tapped her skates against the ground, trying to release her nervous energy. She was ready to get out there. Sitting in place made her mind wander, she didn’t like that. Rumi pulled her gloves over her fingers, trying to focus on the way the fabric felt against her skin, a distraction from herself.
Finally the time came, 11:00, she stepped onto the ice and immediately felt lighter. This is where she belonged. Rumi was always the first person on the ice. The first 10 minutes of icetime were her favorite.
The way the ice was clean and perfect, zero cuts or divots. The only sound in the rink being her own skates carving into the frozen surface. It was therapeutic. She took a deep breath in, filling her lungs with the cool air.
She began her usual warm-up: one lap forward across the rink, followed by a lap backward.
While skating backward Rumi took in the rest of the skaters. Not many were on the ice right now. Most casual skaters would shuffle in at the 30 minute mark, leaving mostly regular skaters. Like expected, she spotted a few figure skaters, along with what looked like a freestyle skater.
Rumi made a mental note of the freestyle skater’s braided space buns. Cute. That might be a good hairstyle for the competition coming up.
Just then, she heard it–
The unmistakable screech of a hockey stop.
The peace Rumi previously experienced, vanishing in a second.
Sure enough, a hockey player sprayed a bunch of snow all over the freestyle skater she had just been admiring. Rumi rolled her eyes at the chaotic scene in front of her: the freestyle skater flailing her arms while the hockey player doubled over, laughing.
She hadn’t seen this particular hockey player before. Not many were women, let alone women with thigh-length pink hair. She took note of the way the hockey player's lips turned up in a smirk. Obviously proud of herself for causing chaos.
Rumi transitioned back to skating forward.“Not my problem today.”
Ice time to Rumi was sacred, no time for distractions, little time for mistakes.
With that in mind she quickly transitioned into the next half of her warm up with some practice jumps. A few waltz jumps back to back. Landing each of them cleanly, she decided to challenge herself. Winding up, she launched into a double Lutz and landed it perfectly, first try.
“WOW! That was so good! You’re like a pro-pro figure skater, aren’t you?”
A distraction.
Rumi turned toward the voice. It was the space bun skater from earlier, with a huge smile plastered on her face. Rumi wondered if the other girl was always this happy.
“Thanks. I don’t know about pro though,” Rumi politely replied with a smile.
The girl looked taken aback, “Oh, what? You totally could be! Right, Mira? You saw that jump, she could totally be a pro.”
Rumi’s smile faltered.
Of course the hockey player from earlier skating into view. Apparently, Mira.
“Totally, Zoe,” the pink-haired skater replied before sprinting down the ice at breakneck speed, leaving behind Zoe and Rumi.
“UGH, Mira! So yeah, sorry about her. She’s a total sweetheart once you get to know her. But yeah, so anyways, what’s your name? Mine’s Zoe.”
Still watching Mira skate off, Rumi took note of her strides. Powerful. After a second she snapped back to reality. Jerking her attention back to Zoey, “Oh! I’m Rumi.”
Zoe flashed a grin, rocking back on her skates with a twirl.
“Well, nice to meet you, professional figure skater Rumi! I better go catch up to Mira before she pushes over a child again. Bye!!”
Rumi chuckled as Zoe skated off after Mira.
Of course. Another hockey player, harassing children. Nothing new.
Rumi glanced at the clock–30 minutes left.
Her couch would kill her if he knew she was practicing new tricks during public skate, but she felt ready. Today was the day. She was going to land a double Axel.
Rumi found an empty corner of the ice, picked up speed, and launched–
She came up short, landed weird, and fell hard.
No big deal.
She got up and tried again.
This time everything felt perfect. The jump, the spin–
But as she came down, her ankle twisted. Something cracked.
Then, pain, a lot of pain.
Rumi slammed her head onto the ice. Everything went dark.
A few moments later she could hear voices, but none of them sounded coherent. Everything was fuzzy.
And then: the unmistakable sound of ice scraping. A hockey stop.
“Oh, fuck me,” Rumi muttered.
“I mean, sure. But probably not right now.”
Rumi recognized the voice, along with a flash of pink coming into her vision briefly.
Her brain caught up.
She shot up.
Bad idea. Pain shooting through her entire body.
“Hey, hey. You hit your head pretty good. Best to stay down a minute.” Someone gently eased her back onto the ice.
“Listen to her, Rumi,” Zoe’s voice now coming into focus. “Mira may not look it, but she’s the person you want after a fall like that.”
Rumi scoffed, “What? You mean someone who pushes over kids?”
Zoey burst out laughing. Mira groaned.
“Zoooeeeeyy, you need to stop telling people that–it was one time, and it was an accident.”
As Rumi regained more of her senses, she looked up. Sure enough, crouched beside her was Zoe, and the pink-haired hockey player:Mira. The two still bickering.
Now, Rumi could see Mira up close, the bane of her skating existence.
Her obnoxiously pink hair flowed like a waterfall, framing her face. It looked… soft.
Okay, Rumi. Stop. Remember: she’s a hockey player.
She has all her teeth, though. Nice teeth. And pretty lips. What would they taste like–
Rumi gasped.
Mira looked down at her, eyes full of concern. Rumi melted a little.
“Wow Mira, you’re reaaaaaaallllllyyy pretty for a hockey player.”
Shit.
Did that just come out of her mouth?
Both girls stared down at her, stunned.
Then Zoe began visibly vibrating. “Oh my gosh, Mira. You know what this means? I’ve been reading all those hockey romances lately and I can’t believe it’s finally happening for yo—”
She was cut off by a hand clamped over her mouth, Mira's.
Rumi’s gaze went back to Mira. Was she redder than before?
“Okay, Rumi, I’m going to lift you off the ice. Wouldn’t want you getting flattened by a Zamboni,” Mira said.
“Oh! No, you don’t have to do that, I can get up.”
Rumi shuffled. Pain shot up her body again. Nope. Going back down.
Wait. Going up?
Mira’s arms wrapped around her and lifted her with ease. Rumi instinctively rested her head on Mira’s shoulder.
Warm. Nice. Wait no, hockey players stink!
She inhaled. Actually… no. Mira smelled nice? A soft scent of hibiscus.
“Let’s get you over there so I can check you out.”
“You can check me out anytime.”
Rumi’s eyes widened. “Wait, no! I mean.. If I’m ever injured again. And you happen to be there…”
Mira just chuckled, continuing to skate effortlessly to the edge of the rink. She stepped off the ice, Rumi in hand, Zoe in tow. Mira carried Rumi over to the nearest bench, setting her down gently.
“Wait here. I need to get my kit from the car.” Mira said, pulling off her hockey skates, before stepping outside.
Now alone with Zoe, Rumi tried to process everything that just happened.
“Sooooooo… Mira. She’s gay, if you were wondering!” Zoe grinned. “She’s also a badass life flight paramedic. And, oh! Obvious, but she’s my best friend.”
Still a bit confused, Rumi responded, “Wait, she’s not a hockey player?”
Zoe laughed. “Dang, you really did hit your head. I mean, Mira does play hockey, but not professionally. Hence, needing a day job.”
Rumi let that sink in.
Of course she had a day job. Rumi had one too, figure skating might be her favorite thing, but it didn’t exactly pay the bills.
Just then, Mira returned, carrying a large red duffel. She knelt next to Rumi and pulled out her supplies.
“So I’m sure Zoey’s told you my life story by now. But I am a medical professional, with a nearly zero kill count.”
Zoe’s smile froze mid-grin. “Mira, seriously. Maybe save the dark humor until after she’s not concussed?”
Mira smirked as she held a flashlight up to Rumi’s eyes, checking each pupil. “But seriously, if you tell anyone about this I might need to kill you, medical malpractice is a bitch.”
She then proceeded with a brief neuro check and collected Rumi’s vitals.
“Okay, Rumi, good news, you’re going to make it. Bad news: you definitely have a concussion. Can I check out your ankle now? I’m going to take off your skate. It might hurt a bit. Zoey, hold her hand.”
“On it, captain!” Zoey replied, happily taking Rumi’s hand before she could object.
After Rumi's nod of approval, Mira carefully removed the skate.
Pain. Tears welled up in Rumi’s eyes. No. She couldn’t cry. Not here. Not with Mira.
“You’re doing great, Rumi. You figure skaters are tough as nails,” Mira said gently.
Rumi felt something rise in her chest and settle in her cheeks. The pain lessening.
Mira focused back on her ankle.
“Okay, Rumi, I’m going to level with you–you need to see a doctor. I’ll splint this, and Zoey can drive you to the Urgent Care.”
“Mira! Why can’t you? I mean, I’m willing of course, but I’m also not the paramedic here, and I’m also not, um.. You know, you.”
Mira rolled her eyes. “Trust me, Zoey, I wish I could. But I need to be at the hospital in 30.”
“I can get my own ride,” Rumi offered quickly. “No need to inconvenience you guys.”
Both Mira and Zoey shook their heads. “No no no, Zoey’s got you,” Mira insisted.
Zoey nodded. “Yeah Rumi! I still need to learn the names of all those fancy spins and stuff you were doing!”
Mira finished the splint, then helped Rumi hobble to Zoey’s car. “Okay, this is your stop. Here’s my number, just in case,” Mira said with a wink, slipping a piece of paper into Rumi’s pocket.
“Take care of her, Zo.” And just like that, Mira was gone.
*A Few X-rays, and doctors later….*
Rumi lay in bed, finally back in her own apartment. Zoe kindly dropped her off an hour ago, leaving Rumi with her own thoughts.
She stared at her new cast.
Sure enough, she broke her ankle. A clean fracture the doctor had said. Which meant no figure skating for months.
Rumi threw a pillow over her head and groaned. How am I supposed to spend my time now?
“At least it’s a pretty color,” Rumi muttered to herself. She had chosen pink. For no particular reason
Her mind drifted to Mira. Rumi wondered what she was up to now? Probably in the sky somewhere saving a life.
Rumi reached into her pocket, pulling out the piece of paper Mira left hours ago.
“She's lucky she's hot” Rumi muttered before grabbing her phone to type in the digits.
*Somewhere across town*
“Mira! Rumi is super nice and cool. We should be friends with her for sure! Or better yet–I should be friends with her while you–” Pillow to the face.
“It’s in Rumi’s hands. She has my number,” Mira responded flatly.
Zoey popped up from under the pillow, usual grin plastered on her face. “Good start! Did you at least write something flirty on the note?”
Mira smirked. “Yeah. I wrote: “Want to watch me play hockey?”
Zoey froze. “You what?”
Mira raised an eyebrow.
Zoe stared back at her, stunned. “MIRA. you do realize figure skaters hate hockey, right?? Like, destined to be rivals and all that? Maybe–maybe–she’d like you, the badass life flight hero. Not the hockey player! You totally fumbled the bag.”
Mira listened intently "Weren't you the one who was going on about hockey romance books earlier.”
Zoe looked like a fish out of water “Wha what I don’t know what your talking about, certai—.” Just then Mira’s phone buzzed, saving Zoe from herself.
Mira glanced down, read the message, her lips slightly tugging upwards into a smile “Well, Zoe… Looks like someone's coming to my game Saturday.”