Jesse and the Ice Princess (Gulf City High Book 1)

by Michelle MacQueen

  But the reason she'd never go further? The word that held her back from nationals and beyond?

  Love.

  In a way, she envied the boys on the losing hockey team. Only people who loved their sport could stick out a season like that. She'd been to every one of their games—at her dad’s insistence—and watched them celebrate the few good plays as if they mattered more than the wins.

  Maybe they did.

  She lifted her eyes to the back wall where a picture of her dad in all his hockey gear hung. He'd spent his entire career chasing the cup and never got the chance to lift it.

  Yet, he couldn't stay away from the game. She saw it in the excitement in his eyes whenever he stood behind the bench during a game. Heck, the man had synthetic ice installed in their basement wide enough for a shooting lane with a hockey net at the far end.

  Charlotte pulled her sweatshirt off over her head and tossed it onto the bench as she zoomed by. She dipped down low, skimming her fingers along the cold surface, trying to remember why she'd been so enthralled by the sport as a kid. Straightening her knees, she rolled her head to stretch her neck.

  She used to watch hours of video showcasing the best figure skaters in the world. But that was then. People grow up. They move on.

  Unless they're not allowed to.

  She didn't want to think about Jesse Carrigan, but she couldn't help wondering if he knew how lucky he was.

  No one expected anything of him except a charming smile. There was no pressure to win—obviously—and no push toward perfection.

  "Charlotte," her mom called. "Straighten up. You won't win anything with posture like that."

  Charlotte pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin in the way her mom taught her. Her blond braid brushed the back of her neck, and she blew bangs out of her eyes.

  Don't slouch.

  Always look your best.

  Pretend someone is always watching.

  Never strive for mediocre.

  Words Charlotte had no choice but to live by.

  She'd give anything just for one day in someone else's life.

  3

  Jesse

  "I'm telling you, Jess, that girl is cute." Roman shouldered his way into Jesse's house without knocking.

  Jesse followed behind him as he lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face. "Knock it off, man. She's Coach's daughter." All he'd heard from Roman since they ran into Charlotte at the rink was how good she looked when she relaxed her appearance. At school, she wore pressed skirts and expensive sweaters. She never had a hair out of place. She was like a china doll, one could admire her beauty, but it wasn't accessible.

  Jesse would never use the word "cute" to describe her. Beautiful, yes. But cute held a different meaning, one with some kind of warm feeling behind it.

  Something slammed into Jesse's legs and he looked down at the top of his little brother's shaggy head. "Slow down, Will."

  Will grinned up at him, showing the gaps where he’d lost teeth. His breath whistled through the holes, a talent he'd acquired over winter break. "Sorry, Jess. Eli was chasing me."

  Sure enough, Jesse glanced down the hall to where the identical Eli ran at them with a Nerf gun. He aimed high, and Jesse ducked before the dart hit him in the head.

  A laugh rumbled low in his throat, and he lunged like he was going to run after the boys. They squealed and took off to another part of the house.

  Roman shook his head. "I don't know how you tell those two apart. They're tiny, identical, eight-year-old monsters."

  Jesse shrugged. "It's not that hard. I look at them and just know who is who." A talent not even his dad always possessed. Cassie was the only other person who could tell the boys apart as easily as Jesse.

  A door in the hall opened and Jesse's dad appeared, his glasses crooked on his face. "Jesse, you're back. Thank heaven. Those boys... I wish Mary would consider working for us full time." He shook his head, a tired smile forming on his face.

  Carl Carrigan put up with a lot from his four children. As a single parent, he did the best he could when he wasn't working on a case.

  Jesse couldn't even take a half-hour long run without the house turning into chaos. It was a good thing he loved chaos. "She has a family of her own. I've got them, Dad. You can go back to work. I'll go start dinner."

  He rubbed his eyes. "Is it that time already?"

  Jesse only laughed as he led Roman down the hall into the kitchen. Dishes lay scattered across the counter with various bits of food on them. A package of crackers spilled across the floor. His brothers must have tried to get a snack.

  Without being asked, Roman started loading dishes into the dishwasher. That was why he was Jesse's best friend. He just got it.

  Jesse started browning meat for tacos, his dad's favorite.

  "She sure hates you." Roman finished cleaning the counter and wiped it down.

  "Who?"

  "The ice princess."

  "Do I care?"

  Roman hopped up to sit on the now clean counter and grinned. "It's a lot of anger for such a small package."

  No one would ever call Charlotte Morrison tall. Her diminutive frame only added to her air of break-ability.

  "Why are we still talking about her?" Jesse dug in the fridge for a half-chopped onion and threw it to Roman. "Make yourself useful."

  Roman got down and found a cutting board and knife. "We're still talking about her because she seems to have it in for you. It doesn't help that her mom was eating out of the palm of your hand."

  "She was just being nice."

  He laughed. "People fall for your charm, and you always think it's nothing. No one is that nice to me."

  Jesse pointed the spatula at him. "That's because you say stupid things. Besides, I don't use charm."

  Roman barked out a laugh. "Yeah, okay."

  Jesse's mom brought him up to be kind to everyone. He didn't like the idea people considered that to be charm. Charming someone meant trying to get something out of them. He was just polite.

  "Am I not allowed to be a nice guy?"

  Roman slid the onions from the cutting board into the frying pan before reaching for a tomato. He tossed it into the air and caught it. "You're Jesse "the king" Carrigan. You can be whatever you want."

  "You know I don't like that nickname. I'm not the king of anything."

  "Au contraire, mon ami."

  Roman dated a French student sophomore year and now threw out French phrases randomly. Jesse used to think it was funny for a guy who could barely speak his own language.

  "You're obnoxious, Rome."

  "Want me to prove your kingship?" He waggled his eyebrows. "I could call half the girls in the school right now and ask them to come here to hang with you. They would."

  "That doesn't prove anything other than the fact I treat them better than the rest of you fools."

  "No, actually, you don't." He tapped his chin, smearing tomato juice on it. "Katrina. Sasha. Emily. Olivia. Need I go on?"

  "No." Jesse's jaw clenched. His friend wasn't wrong. He'd had a lot of girlfriends in his high school career, and he'd hurt each of them when he moved on, looking for something he was sure he hadn’t found yet. His record for a relationship was two months.

  "See." Roman waved the knife in Jesse's face. "You don't have your nickname because of how nice you are. You're the star of the hockey team—"

  "A team that doesn't win."

  "Do you think that matters? When we tell people in the future that we grew up playing hockey, do you think they'll ask what our record was?"

  Jesse sighed. No. But he wanted more. Just once this year, he wanted to blast victory music in the locker room and have the town know they weren't complete failures.

  Roman wasn't one to give up. "Let's circle back around to Mrs. Morrison. Did you see how she treated Charlotte?"

  He did. As they'd walked down the tunnel, Mrs. Morrison barked orders at Charlotte like a drill sergeant. It was hard to reconcile Charlott
e and her mom with the happy guy he knew as his coach.

  "Maybe that's why she hates you."

  "Who hates Jesse?" Will asked, running in to steal a piece of tomato from the counter.

  "No one, kiddo." Jesse ruffled his hair.

  Roman leaned down. "The coach's daughter."

  Will's eyes rounded. "Why would she hate you?" He said it like it was the most impossible scenario he could imagine. His big brother wasn't perfect.

  "It's nothing, Will. Go set the table, yeah?" He turned to Roman. "You eating with us?"

  "I cooked, so yeah."

  "Dude, you chopped. I cooked."

  "Potato, potahto."

  Jesse shoved him. "Go help Will. He can supervise you."

  "Low blow, Carrigan." Roman backed away until he shoved open the door with his foot.

  Jesse turned back to the meat and stirred in the seasoning. He couldn't imagine having a mom yell at him like that. He remembered his mom as the kindest person he knew. His dad might struggle with distractions, and he was mentally absent in some ways, but he loved his kids.

  He refused to allow his brothers and sister to grow up without someone looking out for them, so he'd assumed the role. But he would never order them around or treat them like they didn't matter.

  Was there someone telling Charlotte Morrison she mattered?

  He drained the meat and tried to shake the icy glare of Coach's daughter from his mind. He'd always found something so lonely about her. Coach bragged to the team about each medal his daughter won, but he was too busy coaching them and running the Gulf City rink to attend her competitions. He'd once admitted as much to Jesse during one of their many heart-to-hearts.

  Cassie appeared, not saying a word to him as she gathered the rest of the taco ingredients from the fridge. When it was just the family, she relaxed and talked with them. But whenever anyone—especially Roman—ate dinner at their house, she retreated into herself.

  Thinking of Charlotte and the harsh words he'd heard from her mom, he sidled up beside his sister. In a way, she'd been the only person to go through his mom's death with him. The twins were too young, and their dad didn't let his kids in on his grief.

  Cassie looked up at him. "What?"

  "You know I love you, right?" He never wanted her to forget it. Just because their mom was gone didn't mean she didn't have someone looking out for her.

  She stuck a tortilla chip in her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him. Finally, she swallowed and turned to walk into the dining room. "Weirdo."

  "But a weirdo who loves you," he called after her.

  "You can stop now."

  He grinned as she disappeared from view. Would the kids at school call him the king if they knew he spent his spare time playing Betty Crocker and helping his brothers with homework?

  And what if they knew he didn't hate it?

  His family was everything to Jesse. Maybe it was a byproduct of losing his mom, but he held onto them tightly, afraid they'd slip through his grasp.

  Only Roman knew what it was like in this house. He re-entered the kitchen. "Dude, I love eating at your house."

  "Why?"

  "Well, your brothers are currently using glass plates as shields against each other's Nerf darts. Your dad just came out of his office with his glasses upside down—and I don't think he even noticed. Then there's your sister. Cassie is sending me her beautiful death glares."

  "Don't push Cass."

  He held his hands up in surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it. The Carrigan chaos beats the silence at my house any day. I'd never do anything to wear out my welcome here."

  Jesse grabbed the bowl of meat and handed Roman the tray of shells. As they entered the dining room, a plate shattered against the floor.

  Will and Eli both froze, matching "oops" expressions on their faces.

  Jesse pointed to their empty seats. "Sit." Both boys obeyed him. Cass got up, returning a moment later to slide a new plate in front of Will before bending to pick up the glass shards.

  Silence hung over the room until Cass finished cleaning up the mess.

  "Well," Jesse said. "Dinner is served."

  He sat in his seat at the opposite end from his dad.

  "Thanks for cooking, Jess." The relief on his dad's face at having the task taken from him yet again was enough thanks for Jesse.

  He scanned the hungry faces of his younger brothers and the quiet contemplation of his sister. Winter break ended tomorrow, and his final semester of high school would begin.

  All the people he knew in his class talked endlessly about the schools they'd been accepted to. Most couldn't wait to get out. But Jesse had never regretted his decision to stay home and go to USF in Tampa, less than an hour away.

  He wasn't ready to leave this yet, and they weren't ready for him to leave.

  4

  Charlotte

  The only thing Charlotte Morrison wanted was to get out of Gulf City, to leave her home and discover something else in life. She certainly didn't want to walk into the concrete prison in front of her.

  High school.

  "Hurricanes" was painted on the side of the lower level of the blue structure, and pavers crisscrossed open lawns stretching toward the glass double doors.

  "Hey, girl." Hadley stepped up beside her, an ally in the war zone that was Gulf City High.

  "Only a few more months, Hads." She sighed and started forward.

  Hadley walked with a bounce as she always did, showing the early morning energy none of the rest of them had. They made an odd pair. Charlotte was the short girl in a flowing red skirt that reached her knees and a sweater. Her honey-brown hair was pulled back into her usual braid.

  Hadley, on the other hand, wore a pair of sweatpants with the school name down her long leg. A zip up sweatshirt hung open over a Tampa Bay Lightning t-shirt. The girl loved hockey almost as much as Charlotte's dad. Her blond hair sat in a messy bun on the top of her head.

  She wasn't the right kind of girl, according to Grace Morrison. Maybe that was what drew Charlotte to her when they were in middle school. She was so different from Charlotte's prim and proper life.

  The ironic thing was, Hadley lived in a better part of Gulf City, the McMansion-dotted Wentworth neighborhood. She just didn’t flaunt her family’s wealth, or care about it at all.

  Hadley looped her arm with Charlotte's. "So, my little Charlie, how was winter break? And if you tell me you spent the entire time training, I'm going to stab my eyes out."

  One corner of Charlotte's mouth curved up. Her best friend was always dramatic. "Well, wouldn't want you going blind. I just won't tell you."

  She pushed through the front door, dragging Charlotte into the wide entryway of the school already teeming with students. "Anyone ever tell you you're hopeless?"

  "I prefer driven."

  "Boring."

  "Determined."

  Hadley leveled her with a stare. "Charlotte Morrison, if you don't have fun with me soon, I think I'm going to cry."

  "No, you're not."

  "Fine, but I will drag you kicking and screaming to the rink."

  Charlotte laughed. "I'm already there all the time, anyway."

  "Oh no, no-no. We aren't going to work on your twirly dos and spinoramas."

  "They have names, but go on making fun."

  Hadley gasped and turned to Charlotte. "I would never. You know it's wicked cool what you do, right?"

  She shrugged. To her, it was just life.

  Hadley gripped her upper arms. "You, dear Charlie, are amazing." She was the only person other than Charlotte's dad who called her Charlie. "But, all work and no play—"

  "Don't finish that. I'm not dull."

  Hadley flashed a grin. "Sure thing, Ice Princess." She'd always found the nickname Charlotte's classmates had given her to be hilarious. Charlotte didn't mind when Hadley said it, but a few days ago when it left the lips of Jesse Carrigan, it stung.

  Charlotte pushed her arms away. "So, you said you wanted t
o go to the rink with me?"

  "Do you trust me?"

  "Sure?"

  "You didn't sound too confident, but I'll take it. On Friday, tell your mom you're staying at my house. Oh, and bring your dad's keys to the rink." She flashed a final grin before bouncing toward her locker.

  Hadley Gibson was going to get her into a lot of trouble. And somehow, Charlotte didn't care. Her friend was right. She didn't want to graduate in a few months and realize she'd never had an ounce of fun.

  Someone bumped into Charlotte but didn't even look her way as they kept walking. She lifted her chin and walked down the hall as if none of these kids bothered her, as if she didn't care one bit for them or what they thought of her.

  They wanted an ice princess, and she was good at giving it to them.

  Slipping her books under her arm, she spun the dial on her locker. Only clear backpacks were allowed in the halls of Gulf City High, so most students chose not to carry them at all. She shoved her books inside the locker, only keeping her Chem book with her.

  Hadley appeared, ready to walk to their first class. It was the only one they had together.

  In the science wing, Jesse Carrigan and Roman Sullivan stood outside the door to the lab, people crowded around them. Girls, boys, no one seemed to be able to get enough of the braindead twins.

  Hadley shouldered her way through the crowd, creating a path for Charlotte. Once they were safe inside, they sat behind their normal lab table at the front of the room. Around them, students filtered in, talking continuously.

  Charlotte was not a talker. She preferred to listen. It was probably a result of being brought up in such a quiet house.

  "Ladies." Roman appeared before them, rapping his knuckles against their table. He flashed them a grin as if he expected them to fall at his feet.

  Hadley blushed as if she wanted to. "What's up, Rome?" She leaned forward resting her chin in her hand. "You have a good break?"

  His grin widened. "It was delicious."