I am already starting to slowly pack up my stuff as the clock hits 12:00 and my professor continues to talk as if we have all the time in the world. Who runs over on the first day anyways? Doesn't she know we have places to be?

"Alright everyone have a great weekend I will see you on Tuesday."

"Finally," I huff as I finish packing my notebook and stand waiting for the rest of the row to clear out.

"I hope she doesn't make keeping us over a regular thing," Maya comments, looping our arms together as we leave with Luna and Parker behind us. Every semester the four of us try to get at least one class together. This semester it is a nutrition class we are taking to fill our health elective.

"Me too, I have to get home to grab my stuff still before my ice time at 12:30."

"Oh no god forbid she is late to her ice time," Parker teases. Little shit, like I don't know he also has a private ice time booked twice a week at the same rink in town.

"Parker this is why you were bottom of the roommate pyramid again this week," Luna scolds, flipping him off as she leaves him and catches up to me and Maya.

"I am the heart and soul of our house. I make our whore house a whore home." The four of us are living together for the second year in a row in a 2 bedroom apartment right off campus. Maya and Parker share one room while me and Luna have the other.

"Do we have plans for tomorrow," I interrupt as we cross the street and Parker joins our little huddle. January in Michigan is never pleasant so we tend to travel like penguins around campus to stay warm.

"Hockey house is having a spring semester kick off party and to celebrate their current undefeated season," Maya says looking at us all hopefully.

She is met with three disgusted scoffs at the mere suggestion that we figure skaters would attend a hockey party. "When pigs fly," Luna tells her, gagging a little at even the thought.

"What is wrong with just going to a party at hockey house? I am not asking you guys to be their friends. Besides, they are all so cute. Come on, do you want me to die alone having never been crushed by the thick thighs of a hot hockey player?"

Parker skates his head in disappointment at her. "They may be hot but they're like public enemy number one Maya. I would love to see who bats for my team and also be crushed by one of them but we need to have standards."

"I don't get it," Maya whines. Parker, Luna and I are all figure skaters, but Maya isn't. She was adopted by Parker at a frat party the first week of freshman year and he pulled her into our group. Now she is our team manager and has learned a lot about the sport since meeting us but some things she just never gets.

"They smell," Parker tells her.

"They are loud," Luna adds.

"They ruin the ice," I chime in and the other two nod in agreement.

"You three suck," Maya sulks.

"I am going to be late to class because of this stupid hockey talk," Luna tells us as she breaks from our group and begins speeding off toward her next class. Parker breaks off next heading off to the gym and Maya leaves me a minute later to go grab lunch with some friends.

I hurry back to our apartment to grab my skating, bag bitching the entire way about the frigid Michigan weather. All of my brothers went south for college, which sounds super nice right now. I would not mind being on a beach in Florida instead of losing feeling in my toes as I march through feet of snow.

When I get into our apartment I jack up the heat and grab a togo mug to make myself some coffee. While I wait for my coffee I begin gathering my things and cleaning up the apartment. We are not exactly the cleanest four people you'll ever meet so we all try to tidy up when we can. As I get side tracked cleaning I realize I am going to be a few minutes late but I have the ice booked for an hour so 5 minutes won't kill me.

Once our apartment looks less tragic and I have my hot coffee in hand I lock up and head off to the rink. It is a short walk from our place and thankfully I can protect myself from the wind by walking between buildings. When I open the door inside I am blasted with warm air and loud music.

I unzip my jacket and walk through the lobby to the ice where the music seems to be coming from. I am not too surprised the PA system in the building is about as old as the rest of it and sometimes won't shut off, it is likely whoever skated last just couldn't get it off. I usually just use my speaker instead of hooking my phone up to the PA system bluetooth but if I have to shut it off anyways maybe today I will use it.

I decide to drop my bag first on the bench and take off my 200 layers of clothing before handling the music. As I walk through the tunnel to the ice I notice someone already skating. They're tall wearing black joggers and a long sleeve shirt with a backwards navy color Michigan Hockey hat. I slow for a moment watching him. He is impressive with speed I have never seen from a hockey player before, but one short stop, sending my ice spraying everywhere, and I snap out of my daze to continue walking.

I notice a backpack on the ground with the words Ice Hockey and a number 8 embroidered on the front. It is the same backpack all student athletes get which means he must be on the hockey team. "Hey," I yell over the loud music which I assume is his.

He again stops short and casually glides over to me, pulling his phone from his pocket and pausing the music as he does. "Hey," he replies slightly out of breath.

I look out at my ice that he has marked up from all his skating and cringe. "I have the ice booked," I tell him, looking from the ice to him. He is so tall, especially on skates, that I need to crane my neck to talk to him. Calling him tall earlier was an understatement he is an actual giant.

"Actually I do, you must have mixed up your times," he says smoothly while pushing off the wall to continue skating.

"I don't have anything mixed up," I tell him, dropping my bags and following him as he skates near the wall.

"Seems you do."

"I don't," I fire back pulling my phone from my pocket. "See look Tuesday and Thursday from 12:30 to 1:30 for all of spring semester." I flash him my phone holding it against the plexiglass so he can see it.

He produces his phone from his pocket again and pulls up the exact same email with the same days and time. "Well it seems we have ourselves a bit of a situation now don't we."

"Not for long," I tell him, spinning on my heels and marching off towards the back office.

"I was here first," he says like a toddler as he jumps off the ice and speed walks ahead of me toward the office, not even bothering to put blade guards on. His legs are substantially longer than mine so I basically have to run to even catch up to him.

"You have a whole hockey facility on campus, why do you need this rink too?"

"Girls hockey team has it blocked off during this time."

"So go after or before," I tell him, nudging him as we both try to squeeze down the hallway racing to the office.

"I know this may be news to you but I do have classes and other things to do," he says, his voice dripping in sarcasm. He doesn't nudge me back as we continue our battle to the office door which I am thankful for because he probably would have sent me flying into the wall.

"Josh," me and the guy yell barreling through the office door.

Josh, who was watching something on his computer, jumps in surprise at the two of us huffing and puffing in front of him. "Hey my two future pros," he greets once he gets over the initial scare. He gives us both a friendly smile completely oblivious to our little tantrums.

"There is an issue," I say getting right to the point.

"She wants my ice, Josh," the stranger interrupts, completely cutting me off.

"My ice," I growl in frustration. Poor Josh is looking at both of us in confusion. I like Josh, he is older in his mid 60s and he and his wife have owned this rink for over 40 years. When I toured University of Michigan, I came to the rink to skate because I had a competition coming up and couldn't lose a single practice day. I made friends with Barb, his wife, who is also a former figure skater and once I started attending here she always made sure I had ice time when I needed it.

"I am confused," he says, looking between us.

"I have Tuesday and Thursday from 12:30 to 1:30 booked," I tell him.

"Nooo," the hockey jock drags out, "I do."

"I have the email," I shoot back.

"So do I," he grunts.

"Ok well let's take a look at the schedule you both know Barb and I are getting older maybe one of the emails was sent as a mistake." We both nod and cross our arms shooting each other nasty looks while Josh slowly puts on his glasses and taps away at the computer.

"Carson Ryder, you have Tuesday and Thursday from 12:30 to 1:30."

"Ha," Carson snaps at me.

"And Francesca Beckett, you also have Tuesday and Thursday from 12:30 to 1:30."

"What," we both shout looking at Josh in horror.

"Sorry kids, it seems Barb and I double booked you. Do either of you want to switch to a different time? I can move some things around to accommodate you."

"This is my only free time," I whine hoping Josh will bump Carson and not me.

"Me too, I have a packed schedule." Of course he does. He is probably just lying because he doesn't want to switch.

"You have to have some other free time," I accuse.

"I don't, why don't you find free time in your schedule."

"I can't between my classes, practice, and being a TA I have no other free time."

"Josh," we both whine again like brats, looking to him to settle this.

"I am sorry kids, I really am but my hands are tied. You technically both have the ice now and I can't force either of you to give it up. You will have to figure this out yourselves "

"Agh," I scream, spinning on my heels again and leaving the office. This is a disaster.

"Fucking blows," Carson groans behind me as we both head back to the ice. We have already wasted the first 30 minutes I had booked with this stupid shit.

"I want the ice Thursday, you can have it Tuesday," I tell him as we march down the hall.

"No way most of our games are on Fridays and Saturdays. I need Thursday to get in one more skate."

"Well most of my competitions are on weekends so I need Thursday for a final run through."

"Fine I will take 12:30 to 1:00 both days and you can have 1:00 to 1:30."

"Oh so I can have your trashed ice? I'd rather skate on dull blades. I will skate first."

"Oh so I can break my neck," he yells, throwing his arms in the air. "Your stupid toe pick leaves holes all over the ice are you trying to kill me?"

"Yes," I smile at him sweetly and he rolls his eyes at me.

"Why don't we just split the ice? You take one half, I take the other."

I chew my cheek mulling over the idea. He is right, it is the best idea we have so far but I don't want to give him that satisfaction. "Come on Beckett we both know it is the best option here."

"It's Francesca," I correct, "but fine, we will split the rink 50/50." Carson puffs up his chest and gives me a conceited smirk clearly proud he won this battle.

"See was that so hard," he teases as he gets back on the ice and once again starts the music.

"Wait," I yell as he starts to skate off.

"What," he groans rolling his eyes as he skates back over to me.

"I get the music. You don't need music to play hockey but I need my music to practice my timing during my routine."

"Not a chance in hell Beckett. I'd rather you toe pick my eyes out."

"Just wear headphones, it's not like you need to be able to hear while you skate in circles like an ape."

"An ape," he scoffs. "Ok Tinkerbell fine you can have music"

Yes I internally celebrate.

"But..."

Shit.

"I get to pick the song for your routine. If I am going to have to listen to it for 2 hours a week I want something I can somewhat stand."

"No," I shout at his ridiculous suggestion. I still haven't picked my song for my next competition because I have sort of been procrastinating but that is besides the point.

"Then I am going to get here every day before you and destroy the ice. Just rip it apart." The asshole looks so proud of himself as he skates off again.

I weigh my options for a moment. Even if I carry my stuff to class and come straight here I still don't know if I can beat him. It is a near 15 minute walk from where my class is and if my professor continues to run over then I will have to sprint here, which is just too much. It isn't worth it. "Fine," I give in. "You can pick from a list of songs of my choosing."

"Perfect," he smiles, adjusting his backwards hat and continuing to skate quickly back and forth.

I walk back over to my backpack and pick it up. I only have 25 minutes left, the ice is ruined, and I am in a bad mood; so I am cutting my losses today and just going home.

"Bye Beckett," Carson sing songs happily as I begin to leave.

"Francesca," I correct once again as I march off, leaving him to finish destroying my ice.