by Dana Burkey
ON
THIN
ICE
Dana Burkey
Copyright © 2017 Dana Burkey
All rights reserved.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is dedicated to the cast and crew of Romeo and Juliet, YSU 2009. Although I had long since loved Shakespeare, getting to finally experience the play on stage was a dream come true. Thank you especially to Alyssa, our amazing director, and my APO big!
1
“Well done Miss Anderson, another 100%,” Mr. Dennen commented as he handed back my test on Romeo and Juliet.
Around me I could hear the other students in Sophomore English let out sighs of frustration. Once again, I was cause for annoyance as my grade “killed the curve” or prevented anyone else in the class from getting their grade bumped up. I was used to the responses from everyone though, having dealt with it ever since we started our Shakespeare unit a month prior. Before then I would get A’s or B’s easily, only affecting others a little. But, once we began the plays I loved so much, the chances of everyone getting a better grade thanks to the highest grade in the class being less than perfect, went out the window.
“Can you still grade on the curve and just take out Victoria’s score?” someone at the back of the room asked. It was not the first time the comment had been asked due to my high test grades on the classic reading material.
“No can do,” Mr. Dennen laughed. Once he was done passing out our graded tests he walked to the front of the room to begin our new lesson. “Over the next few weeks we’re going to be moving on to something different. Starting today we will be taking a look at Macbeth.”
There was instant groaning around the room. Thankfully, as Mr. Dennen spent time going over the assignment schedule for the new play, everyone got pretty distracted. I tried to enjoy it while I could, even taking a copy of the book when it was offered to me. I had learned when we started the unit with a reading of A Midsummer's Night Dream that mentioning I already had a copy of the play at home was a bad idea. From that moment on, any kind thoughts people in class had had about me were ancient history.
“Before we get into the story we’re going to spend some time looking at Shakespeare himself,” Mr. Dennen announced, then began writing on the blackboard. “The more we know about the man behind the plays, the better we can understand just what he’s saying to us.”
“Will this be on the test?” I glanced back and saw the question was from one of the many hockey players in my class.
“Of course,” our teacher replied, eliciting a few groans and comments. “As I was saying, when we can see his point of view and his place in life, we can get even more out of the text we read.”
As we began taking notes and going over the information about my favorite author, I looked around the room at the other students. They were all athletes for the most part, with just a few exceptions. The exceptions, unfortunately, were students that didn’t care much for English class in general. Most of the people hadn’t been particularly unfriendly when we were in middle school. Or during other classes for that matter. But English class was changing that for good. Now most people that weren't my friends were less than thrilled to see me in class or even outside of it. Clearly it was a result of their plummeting grades caused my perfect test scores.
When the bell finally rang, I left class slowly, allowing most of the room to clear out before I tried to make my way into the hall. Slipping on my messenger bag, I was kind of surprised to see Blake Frasier still in the room. Then I was further shocked when I heard the start of his conversation with Mr. Dennen.
“You wanted to see me?” Blake said casually. I noticed his test in his hand, covered with a lot of red marks on the front page.
“Yes,” Mr. Dennen nodded. “We need to have a chat about your test grade.”
I made a beeline for the door before I overheard anything else. Mostly since I could assume what I would hear if I stayed. Blake was a hockey player, and wasn’t known for his intelligence. He was known for his height and strength. Glancing back once before I walked out of the room, I was again reminded of his size, seeing him tower over our English teacher. Mrs. Dennen was almost 6 feet tall, but Blake was even taller. His height combined with his easy to spot muscles through his jeans and standard professional hockey shirt made him a lot to take in.
Finally walking into the hallway, I left Mr. Dennen and Blake alone as I made my way through the thick crowd of students. When I was still a few feet away, I could see my best friend Lilly leaning against my locker. She was easy to spot with her fire red hair and thick black glasses. Lilly was smiling, but her expression fell as I drew closer and she saw the look on my own face.
“How was English?” Lilly asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Pretty standard,” I said in reply, brushing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “I think everyone but me is itching for this Shakespeare unit to be over.”
“At least it’s Friday so you don’t have to deal with all the jocks staring you down any more,” she said trying to console me. “Ready to escape?”
“Yes please.”
After dropping some items off in my locker, I walked with Lilly down the hall and out into the cold January air. Around us students were racing to catch their bus or climbing into their friend’s cars. It made for a sea of activity we had to wade through before we were on the sidewalk and walking away from the school. But soon enough we were out of the mass of students and leaving for the weekend. The 15 minute walk home was a long one, but it was time away from everyone else at school, thus making it pure perfection.
It wasn’t like Lilly and I hated anyone at school, we just didn’t quite fit in the same mold as the other students. Allendale High School, much like Allendale Middle School, had one focus: sports. The whole town seemed to be completely focused on hockey and football and basketball as well as the athletes who played those sports. So, for two bookworms like my best friend and myself, it was a hard place to feel like we could ever belong.
“So, what are you reading next?” Lilly asked once we were free of the crowds.
“Macbeth,” I replied, eliciting a laugh. “I know. They’re all going to hate me even more.”
“Not hate you exactly,” she reminded me. “Just dislike your love of classic literature. Even more so than usual.”
“I guess,” I sighed.
I thought about telling Lilly that my good grade might have affected the class more than usual this time. After all, if Blake was staying to talk to Mr. Dennen then it could be bad for him as well as the rest of the hockey team. I decided that mentioning it would feel more like gossip than anything, so I changed the subject to get my mind off it all.
“Do you want to go to the mall tomorrow?” Lilly gave me a rather confused look in reply, so I continued. “I got a gift card for Barnes and Nobles from my dad in the mail and want to use it. I tried to pick out some things online but it’s not the same if I’m not there in person.”
“Oh, okay,” she nodded. “I might actually have some left on the card I got for Christmas too. And if not, I think I have some babysitting money I can spend.”
Our conversation turned to what books we wanted to look for as well as the books that we hadn’t read yet. There were always at least a
handful of titles on our ‘to buy’ lists, especially with new releases hitting the shelves every day. The conversation helped me feel thankful to have a friend that loved books as much as I did. Not to mention it passed the walk quickly, taking me further from school as well as closer to a weekend full of rest and reading.
2
In the end, the weekend passed by much too quickly. Before I knew it, I was back in English Monday afternoon. Thankfully we were spending that time learning about Shakespeare. It gave me some time to just take notes and listen, even if a lot of the things Mr. Dennen was telling us were things I already knew. That was okay though, since we weren't going over the play line by line yet. Once that began it was always obvious that I knew the material much better than the others in the class. This was at least in part because I was apparently the only person who read the whole play more than once before we did a scene by scene read though. Either way, when the bell rang to end the class as well as the day, I was happy to leave without hearing any negative comments about my knowledge of Macbeth.
“What topic did you pick for our history paper?” Lilly asked as soon as I reached my locker. She was reading some photocopied pages as she spoke. “I was thinking about focusing on the Boston Tea Party, but I also thought it might be fun to write about Martha Washington.”
“I’ve been leaning towards writing about the Constitutional Convention,” I explained. “It’s a long time period to cover, but I feel like I could focus on a few key points and make it really interesting.”
As Lilly took a minute to weigh her options once again, I caught a glimpse of myself in my locker mirror. Since I had woken up well before my alarm, I had actually tried to look nice for school. It meant pulling my poker straight brown hair into my usual French braid before putting on a little bit of makeup. The mascara and shimmery gold eyeshadow helped my green eyes pop, or at least that was what the lady at the makeup counter in the mall had told me when I got a free makeover on my birthday. Unfortunately, after a long day at school the mascara was smudged under my eyes a bit. Thankfully it wasn’t as noticeable as it could have been if it wasn’t for my tan Italian skin. Licking my pointer fingers and rubbing them under my eyes to correct the makeup mistake, I was startled when a deep voice said my name.
“Sorry if I scared you,” the voice added, clearly having seen me jump a little.
“It’s okay,” I assured them, then turned around.
I don’t know who I had expected to see standing in the hallway talking to me in that moment, but when I saw Blake Frasier, I was instantly shocked. Despite going to the same school since we were little, I had never talked to Blake much, unless it was for a class project or because we were placed on the same volleyball team in gym. So, seeing him standing there in the hallway, clearly looking to speak to me for real was not how I imagined I would end my Monday afternoon at school.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, his brown eyes darting around the hall as if someone important might see him talking to me. “Unless you need to like, catch your bus I guess.”
“We walk home,” Lilly filled in for me when I didn’t speak right away.
“Oh okay,” Blake nodded. “I can walk you outside then.”
I agreed with a mumble of words then grabbed my books and coat and began the walk outside. Lilly was all but glued to my side, the look on her face a mix of confusion as well as extreme excitement. Blake followed a few steps behind us, occasionally slowing down to talk to one of his many friends. But he still stayed close enough that once we stepped outside he got right to the point.
“I need help,” he began once we were a few feet away from any other students. “I’m doing really badly in English and if I don’t get my grade up I might get kicked off the hockey team for the semester.”
“Oh,” I said in reply. I had a feeling I should say something more, but couldn’t think of anything in the moment. Mostly since after seeing him chatting with Mr. Dennen I had (correctly) guessed that his grade was in trouble. Hearing it confirmed didn’t shock me, or at least not as much as the fact he was going out of his way to inform me of the situation.
“I was wondering if you could help kind of like tutor me,” Blake finally explained. “I just don’t understand any of that Shakespeare stuff and need to get at least a C on the next test if I’m going to have any shot at passing.”
“Why don’t you ask one of your friends for help?”
He looked around again as if to ensure no one was listening in, then finally answered me. “They’re not doing that great either. I mean, they’re passing and all, but I don’t think they could help me learn stuff so much as figure out a good way to cheat. That’s already the only reason a few of them are passing at all.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “But why should I help you?”
“Doesn't tutoring look good on college applications?” he asked with a shrug.
“A little,” I agreed. “I just don’t really have time to help you and keep my own grades from slipping.”
“That’s not true,” Lilly chimed in quickly. “You’re reading like five books right now, and working on that extra credit assignment in biology even though you already have an A. I think you can spare a little time.”
“Perfect,” Blake grinned, as if I was the one who had just agreed. “When can we start?”
“Listen, I don’t know,” I tried again.
“I’ll buy you coffee any time we meet to study if that helps.”
Suddenly, the offer started sounding a lot better. I had seen Blake a few times while I was at Cup O’ Bean, my favorite coffee shop in town. Most of my Saturday mornings were spent there, reading and studying. It was somewhere to go while my mom taught piano lessons at home, and also helped me fill up on coffee. Other than books, I spend most of my extra money on lattes and mochas. People always told me it’s going to stunt my growth, but I loved it too much to not enjoy it every chance I could get.
“Please, Victoria,” Blake said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m begging you.”
“Fine,” I said with a sigh.
“Awesome,” he replied, holding his hand up for a high five. I returned it after a delay, though he didn’t seem to notice my hesitation. “Can we meet tomorrow maybe? I don’t have practice after school.”
“Yeah, that works for me,” I agreed. “What time?”
“I’ll let you know,” he said after a pause. “Maybe right after school, but I’ll message you and let you know. You’re on Instagram, right?”
“Yeah, here.” I reached out and took his phone from his hands. I pulled up Instagram, found my page, and sent the friend request. Then, after handing back his phone, I pulled up the app on my own cell and accepted the request I had just sent. “Done.”
“Perfect, I’ll message you tonight once I know what time I’ll be free and all that,” he said while quickly scrolling through my Instagram photos. “See you tomorrow.”
I said a goodbye in reply, but was more concerned with him looking through my posts. It would make sense for him to look through them since I had left my account open on his phone, but it was a little odd at the same time. Mostly since I posted a lot of selfies with Lilly, often acting silly. The photos were sure to show a side of me people didn’t see often, especially compared to how I was when I was at school and in class.
“This is so exciting,” Lilly gushed once we began our walk home. “Do you remember when you had a crush on Blake back in fifth grade?”
“It was hardly a crush,” I replied, shoving my phone into my coat pocket for emphasis.
“You drew a heart around his photo in your yearbook,” my friend reminded me with a laugh.
“But that was forever ago,” I reminded her. “Besides it was in pencil and I erased it like a month later. And I only liked him because he helped me climb out of the back of the bus during one of those fire drills. He was like my Prince Charming for all of five seconds and I let it go to my head.”
“Sure, but do you still
like him at all?”
“No way,” I quickly assured her. “He’s not my type at all. I mean, he’s not smart, doesn't care about anyone but himself, and I don’t think he’s ever read a book in his life that wasn’t for school.”
“If you say so,” she shrugged.
Our conversation moved on to a chat we had during lunch about what movie marathon we needed to have the next time school was closed for a snow day. With bad weather always a possibility, we liked to plan ahead. As we suggested movies, I found my mind drifting back to Blake. Sure, he was attractive, but that was where the good things about him ended. There were guys all around school that were just as cute as he was, but actually had a brain inside of their heads. I just hoped I could get Blake to focus long enough to pass English and let me go back to spending my free time enjoying Shakespeare instead of teaching it to other people.
3
"Did you have a chance to read over the First Act yet?" I asked Wednesday evening after meeting Blake at The Java Hut across town from school. When he sent me a message on Instagram with the request I was a little confused to say the least. I would have preferred to meet at Cup O’ Beans since it was near both the school and my house but as long as he was buying the coffee, I couldn’t really complain too much.
"No," he said simply. "I had practice last night and was at school all day, remember?"
"You didn't have time after practice?"
"I was too tired," he said with a sigh. "Why don't you just tell me about what happened?"
"That would basically be cheating," I reminded him. "You know, the very thing you didn't want to do."
"Right," he replied slowly. "So now what?"
"Now you read." When he gave me a confused look, I continued. "You can read Act One. Then, once you're done, we can talk about what you read."
Blake tried to protest, but when it was clear I wasn’t going to change my mind, he opened his book and got to work. I used the time to take long sips of my coffee, enjoying the sweet coconut flavor. Without meaning to, I also used the time to look over Blake as he read.