Survival Of The Fittest

Look to the left... Pause. Look to the right... Pause. Centre-frame... Pause. Smile.

Step out on to the ice, no-one around. Quiet today, more so than usual. Breathing's heavy as she makes her way around the rink, taking her time so she doesn't slip.

One, two, one, two, her blades cut the surface roughly, weight pressing down nervously onto each foot as her eyes focus dead ahead.

I shouldn't be out here alone, thought Hilary.

I should've brought someone to help me keep my balance.

Doubtful thoughts were interfering with her concentration as her skating lost the awkward grace it had portrayed so keenly before. Soon enough, the agitated figure lost its momentum, and it came tumbling down with a heavy thud, though not before a shrill scream had time to escape its mouth.

"Fuck!"

The scrawny figure lay still upon the ice as she groaned at the feeling of pain hammering away at her unfortunate pelvis. Gathering her strength, she lifted her back using her elbows as leverage, allowing herself time to sigh in recognition as she realised how similar to a tortoise she now appeared.

God help me if someone's watching right now.

I would actually cry.

Hilary had wanted to try out ice-skating ever since she got to St. Pauls, but until a few weeks ago, had never dared to try.

She'd recently read a blog by a guy who'd made it his personal mission to learn and fully master any skill or sport in just one month. So far, he'd managed to master archery, falconry, embroidery and bizarrely, yodelling. This astounded Hilary so much so that she decided to follow his example by finally learning how to ice-skate. Of course, what she failed to realise was that it was much harder to learn something by yourself than to seek help from professionals, and so every week she'd spend at least an hour creating fresh bruises and swearing much more frequently than she was used to.

Nevertheless, there had still been noticeable improvement within her skating over the course of the month, though she'd most likely use the phrase "polished turd" when pushed to describe it in her own "Personal Progress" blog.

This blog was very much a rip-off of the original one, but her exploits on the ice had gained her a few followers of her own since she peppered it with pictures of the various injuries she'd acquired over the month. These followers weren't exclusively in it for the sadistic side though, and most often offered her words of encouragement and support as she kept them up to date with the week's practice.

After a few long minutes of arduous yet feeble attempts to pick herself up, she eventually managed it, and not a moment too soon, since she was convinced she could hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

Wait... this isn't the elevators... rgh! I wish I could read those freaking signs properly.

Brock Mason was not a happy bunny, not by any means. What should have been a simple excursion out was turning into a minature nightmare. It was all because the stupid stairs were closed off. Being cleaned, or something stupid like that, too wet to walk on or whatever... so Brock, who had never been an 'elevator' kind of guy, had been forced to try and find them. So maybe he should have know the layout of the place better, but he didn't, and so had to basically just wander around and hope. No use trying to read directions... it was all gibberish to him.

So Brock found himself, instead of heading upstairs, where he actually wanted to go, at the near deserted ice skating rink. He was about to turn around and leave in wordless frustration when he realised that the solde person out there skating was somebody he actually knew. Hilary... something or other, from school, one of the Brits. She wasn't somebody Brock liked, but then again, nor was she somebody he disliked.

At least she wasn't one of those damn know-it-alls...

Brock wandered over to the edge of the rink and leaned on the wall, looking over it and at Hilary, and giving her a half-hearted wave. Maybe she knew where the elevators were...

Hilary's heart almost leapt out from her chest as she saw Brock Mason standing at the edge of the rink, watching her. The blood in her face rose to the surface as he gave her a laid-back wave from across the rink, causing her to freeze on the spot.

Oh God.

It's that guy from school.

Has he been watching me this whole time?

Oh God, he must've seen me fall just then.

Oh God, oh God, oh God!

She tried her best to reply, but to no avail. Instead, she made a strange gurgling sound at the back of her throat, intensifying her embarrassment even further. Clearing her throat as quietly as she could, she took a step backwards and began to wave back erratically.

"Um, h-hello?"

She stuttered as she spoke, the sight of him spooking her so much that her heart was still fluttering wildly inside her. In the few weeks she had been ice-skating, she had managed to avoid being watched by anyone she knew by making sure she came as early as possible. Perhaps that was why today she was so unfortunate. They had never made any attempt to converse before, so technically, she guessed, she didn't know him at all. They had seen each other around school of course, but Hilary had always been intimidated by the sportier students since there were so many of them and they were all built like tanks compared to the other guys in their year.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

She flicked her hair out of her face before she continued.

"I didn't know you came here. I'll leave if you want, I was finished anyway."

Oh God, please let me go. I bet you've got all your friends coming here too, and they're gonna see me out here all on my own like an idiot.

JeeSUS, you'd think I was a wild axe murderer or something!

Brock had no clue whatsoever what had got Hilary so spooked - he was only standing there, right? It wasn't as if he was trying to be threatening or anything like that... Of course, he was well aware that big guys like him could be a little intimidating, but still, to him it seemed like she was overreacting.

"What? No, no, I'm not here to skate. I'm just lo- uh, that is... wandering around."

He'd come very close to admitting that he was lost, but how goddamn stupid would that sound? Enough people already thought that he was a total moron without Brock adding fuel to the fire by telling somebody he couldn't find his way upstairs in the mall of all places. Hilary would probably go around telling her friends and have a right laugh at his expense. Brock caught plenty of flak for having been held back a year, so the prospect that he might wind up getting even more was far from a pleasant one.

Brock felt like walking away and putting an end to the awkward encounter altogether, and indeed he strongly considered it for a few seconds. However, wouldn't that also look weird? Some guy walks into the ice skating rink, claims he's wandering around, then walks out again? So Brock forced himself to stay, and desperately searching for something to say, could only come up with something very standard.

"So, uh, you come skating a lot?"

Eh... she seems okay, I guess. Nervous as a rabbit, but at least she isn't one of those smug types, right?

Hilary's heart gradually returned to its regular pace, and once Brock had told her that he wasn't there to skate, she seemed to calm down. It wasn't her fault though, she was just never any good around people she didn't know, especially so since moving to a whole new country.

"Oh, cool."

She tried her best to sound nonchalant, even shrugging her shoulders to make herself seem a little less skittish, though probably came across a little desperate. Knowing this, she shyly played around with the zip on her jacket as the two stood in awkward silence for a while. Looking down as she played with her zip, she realised she was wearing the shortest skirt she owned today, and glanced up at Brock to see if he had noticed.

Great, now he's gonna tell all his football friends that I'm a skank.

Oh, why's he just standing there? Why won't he just go already?

I bet he's waiting for me to fall over again, just so he can take pictures on his phone!

Just as she was thinking that, Brock spoke again, this time asking her about how often she came skating. A little surprised by the sudden question, she cleared her throat again before she answered.

"Um... not very often, I guess. Once every week or so? I dunno, I-I think that's right, anyway."

She paused, a confused smile snaking across her face as she wondered what it was that he wanted from her.

"How... how about you?"

She paused again, before shaking her head in embarrassment upon remembering what he said earlier.

"Sorry! You said you don't skate, didn't you? Sorry, I'm so stupid."

After a third pause, which seemed to last longer than the previous two, she thought of something she'd wanted to ask him earlier on, but had forgotten to do so.

"Aren't you in my Chemistry class?"

This is really awkward... I think we're both kind of embarassed. Can't even meet eyes. Her skirt is pretty short huh? Nice legs thou-wait, wait! Don't look at her skirt! SHe'll think I'm some kind of pervert!

Brock forced himself to look up until he was looking at Hilary's eyes as opposed to any other part of her body, although with the difference in height he couldn't help but be looking down on her in the literal sense.

Something that he drew comfort from - although it was rather cruel, was that Hilary seemed to be at least as nervous as he was. That sounded a little mean, but in truth, Brock was pretty unsettled, and seeing Hilary in the same way put him a little more at ease. She didn't look like somebody that would try to make a fool out of him like some others did. Maybe if they could both calm down a little, they could actually hold a decent conversation...

Chemistry... ugh. It was about as bad as most of Brock's subjects, although he was becoming better at distinguishing the symbols for different elements now. It helped that a lot of them were only one or two letters. Brock liked the experiments best of all, although he had to have a demonstration or partner to read the instructions in order for him to do them properly. Now that he thought about it though, Hilary was in his class, wasn't she?

"Yeah... I, uh, I think you've been my reader before."

Brock's memory wasn't perfect, but he was reasonably sure that Hilary had been partnered with him before... although he could have been wrong, in which case he had probably just told her about his disability.

Should've kept quiet unless I was certain!

Hilary was confused.

"Reader?"

Was he making fun of her? Was he even in her class? She couldn't tell what he was trying to say, but it made her feel even more uncomfortable than she'd been before. In fact, she thought he looked a little awkward himself, though why he would feel like that around her was anyone's guess.

"Erm, well, no I haven't been your reader, but I think you are in my class."

She felt a little silly having to shout everything to him from the ice rink, and decided he was probably nice enough to go over and talk to properly now that it was clear his friends weren't arriving any time soon. Taking care not to slide too fast, she made her way over to the edge of the rink, wobbling precariously as she tried her best not to fly straight into the barrier.

Take your time, that's it. Easy steps. Nothing too quick or you'll fall again.

Eventually, she made it to where Brock was standing, and stepped over the edge while trying her best not to fall over. Unfortunately, she still wasn't used to the size of her skates, leading her to promptly trip over the ridge of the rink and fall in Brock's direction.

"Shit!"

Wait. Hilary didn't know that Brock had been held back a year? Or why he had been at least. That was a little unusual. Most people figured it out pretty quickly - or were told by their friends. Or the rumourmill. He supposed he might as well explain himself. Hilary could probably connect the dots with what he'd already said, and if he didn't tell her she'd probably just wind up thinking he was even stranger.

"I'm, uh... I'm dyslexic. I can't read."

Brock thought about qualifying that with a 'properly' or 'it's hard' as opposed to a confession of illiteracy, but in truthfulness, he really couldn't read without a whole lot of help. He absolutely hated that fact, but it didn't stop it from being true. Besides, he managed right?

And why am I at the ice rink instead of the elevators again? I manage on my own so well don't I?

Still brooding a little, Hilary suddenly falling over as she skated towards him took Brock off guard. Instinctively he caught hold of her, checking her fall. Unfortunately, the area of Hilary's body he put his hand on to steady her happened to be her chest. As soon as it was clear Hilary wasn't going to continue stumbling, Brock jumped back like he'd been electrocuted.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" he stammered. "I-I didn't m-mean to..."

Hilary let out a gasp as she felt Brock catch her in his hands, being certain she would've knocked him down or hurt herself a few moments before. As soon as she was able to stand, she let out a sigh of relief, and took a moment to catch her breath. Suddenly, she saw Brock recoil away from her, and she quickly realised where his hand had just been.

"Oh, God!"

Her cheeks flushed red and she wrapped her arms around her chest defensively while trying her best not to look him in the eye.

He touched my tit! Oh, God, now he knows how flat-chested I am!

Her heart raced in embarrassment, sure that now he was going to tell all of his friends about this entire ordeal if he wasn't going to already. However, once he began to stammer and his words fell into an awkward apology, she began to re-think his intentions.

"You're... sorry?"

In the past, she'd seen many of the jocks touching up the girls in their year, leaving the girls giggling while they laughed about it with their friends. Yet here was Brock Mason, a guy she'd seen hanging around with those same people, apologising for accidentally pressing her breast. Now she was really confused, and all the time she spent thinking about what was going on, uncomfortable atmosphere was becoming unbearable.

"Don't, er, don't worry, Brock."

Her breathing less rushed, she could speak a bit easier, and it was then when she remembered what she heard as she crossed the ice earlier on.

So that's why he's acting so weird...

"I... I won't tell anyone about your dyslexia if you promise you won't tell anyone you saw me here today."

Usually she wouldn't be as direct as this, but since their meeting had been so painfully hard to watch, she figured it would be for the best if it wasn't mentioned again.

"Please?"

Brock was still trying to get his act together after his ... unfortunate contact, when something Hilary said registered through to him.

Aw... I knew I shouldn't have told her anything!

"Are you, uh... are you trying to blackmail me?" that was a little... unexpected. Of course, Hilary wouldn't know that it wouldn't work. Most people in their year already knew about Brock's dyslexia, or had at least put two and two together after seeing he had been held back. Although then again, that had been a fair few years ago, and Hilary was a transfer student.

"You don't need to be like that you know... last I checked, there's nothing wrong with going skating, otherwise the hockey players would be ashamed to show their faces, right?"

Brock was trying to put Hilary more at ease, but given that he himself wasn't that calm, he wasn't exactly sure how well it would wind up going down. He was a footballer, not a therapist, and it was pretty clear that Hilary was a very twitchy person.

What is it that they say?... Takes one to know one? Ha...

So why am I here again? Oh that's right I'm a suicidal idiot.

She stepped into the rink cautiously, reveling in the rush of cold air hitting her face. Hayley Carlsen had always liked ice skating rinks, despite her non-ability when it came to the actual skating.

This is stupid. How about you just save yourself some pain and go watch some Hockey. I hear it's all the rage around here.

Hayley tried to ignore the voice of reason. She was here and this time there was no chickening out. She carefully put on her skates near the door trying to avoid staring at the ice, the source of many an injury and bruised ego. Looking to the sky she muttered her mantra,
"It's fine, so long as nobody sees you fall. It's fine, so long as nobody sees you..."

Standing up she stumbled almost falling back to the ground. Smiling at herself, she marveled at her own stupidity.

Falling already and not even on the ice yet. Oh this is going to be totally fun.

A cursory glance of the rest of the rink and the other entrance replaced that smirk with a panicked look.

Somebody here. Oh crap, have I seen them at school? I should go talk to them? ...Boy, girl, ice rink, they're probably a couple. Just ignore them and focus on not falling on your ass and embarrasing yourself? Can you do that?

Trying to keep her expression neutral, Hayley carefully stepped onto the ice.

"Just keep skating, just keep skating..."

God you're lame

She grabbed the wall as her feet slowly slid out of control once more. The last time on the ice Hayley had slid backwards falling to her ass, spraining her arm and dying of embarrassement, all at the same time. This time Hayley was aiming for the more slow and steady approach. She slid along the wall, building confidence. Halfway through the loop she realised she was approaching the boy and girl at something close to a high speed.

"Why am I here again?" She muttered as she crashed into a wall near the two.

"Blackmail?! N-no, I didn't mean to- I'm sorry!"

Hilary looked away from Brock, scared that this would make him angry, but then he spoke again, and her fears were quickly put to rest. He sounded genuine enough in his attempts to put her at ease, which only confused her in regards to his intentions. When she put their whole conversation together though, she started to realise that maybe he wasn't like the other guys, maybe he was actually nice. Thinking about it made her relax a little more, and soon enough she was able to initiate a much less uncomfortable conversation, much to her own delight.

"So... you never really explained-"

What was that sound?

The distinctive sound of skating suddenly echoed around the rink, picking up in speed and volume as the skater in question came closer.

Oh, no, it's someone else from school.

Guessing that the girl knew Brock, she didn't bother finishing her sentence, and instead decided upon leaving the rink altogether to avoid any more awkwardness.

"I-I've gotta go. Homework's due in tomorrow, and I still have a lot to do on it, so I'd better... er, leave you to it."

Hilary jumped as the girl crashed into the wall, taking note of her inability to skate as a sign that she was obviously here for Brock. Her eyelids drooped sadly as she walked back to get her shoes, carefully stepping with her skates to ensure she didn't fall over again.

Bye, Brock.

((Hilary Strand continued elsewhere.))

Although the connotations of blackmail weren't all that pleasant, Brock hadn't really been all that annoyed when Hilary had spoken about it. He didn't exactly know why skating was anything to be embarrassed about, but since it obviously was for Hilary, Brock wasn't surprised that she was resorting to that sort of measure to keep it quiet. He wasn't the type of guy to go around gossiping though... if he was going to be mean or cruel, it would be much more directly.

Hilary started to say something, but then a person crashed into the wall nearby, and before Brock could comment on the matter, Hilary had dashed away like a spooked rabbit.

"Um... bye?"

Was it something he'd said? Was that girl somebody Hilary didn't like or something?

Brock looked towards the girl who had fallen over... not anybody he knew, although her face was vaguely familiar. Probably somebody from school. Brock wasn't exactly a social butterfly, he just hung around with the sporty types, pretty much. He stayed with the popular crowd, but he wasn't truly part of it. Didn't have the social skills for it.

He thought about saying something, but all it would be doing was interrupting the girl's skating. She hadn't given any indication she wanted to talk. Brock instead turned around and watched Hilary go.

That was... weird. She's nice, but a bit jumpy. Guess I'll see her around.

"Owww..."

Hayley cursed as she tried to get up, using the wall to avoid falling over and embarrasing herself further. After a cursory inspection of the many soon to be bruises, she looked up to notice the girl walking away. A sense of anger and hurt crept into her as the girl left.

Just like the old days. I come near and everybody takes off...

Oh leave of the self-pity party already. Just be logical, its not like she did this to snub you. Suppose she just wanted to get off the ice before somebody else crashed into her

The boy seemed watching mournfully after the girl. Hayley couldn't help but direct her irrational anger towards the couple.

Well thanks mate, I'm fine by the way. Not that I expected anything like a conversation but it would be nice for somebody to say, "Gee, I hope you don't have a concussion. Are you Okay?"

"This is what you wanted remember? Just you on the ice, everybody leaving you alone." Hayley continued muttering struggling to try and stand straight and retain any semblance of dignity she had left.

At least with the girl gone, that guy will probably run after her and then I'll be alone on the ice and.... Argh I hate this, I should go talk to the guy, make a joke...and go walking of into the sunset. Yeah right, cause thats how it always happens.

Hayley quickly glanced over the boy in front of her. He didn't seem to be a 'jerkass' type. Before her courage let her down she went to say Hi and apologise for the whole 'almost crashing into you' thing. She only got a quiet "Sorry about...." out, before noticing the presence of others entering the rink. Inwardly she groaned.

Oh great, more people. Just what the doctor ordered. Maybe they'll see me and then go away

After a few moments looking after Hilary, Brock decided to go after her and see if he had any chance of catching up. Something kind of important had just occured to him and well... she was nice, right?

((Brock to the High Gloss Highs))