A Click of Fate
Blades & Roses
A Click of Fate
The soft trill of her alarm pulls Caitlyn from a restless sleep. She groans, rolling over to smack the snooze button, but the brightness of her phone screen catches her eye. For a moment, she just lies there, her arm draped over her eyes, the memory of Violet’s cryptic message from last night playing on repeat in her head.
The cupcake emoji.
She reaches for her phone, unlocking it and opening the message thread. It’s still there, simple and unassuming, staring back at her. Caitlyn hovers her thumb over the keyboard, chewing on her bottom lip as if the right words might suddenly materialise. She starts typing:
“Hey, thanks for accepting my friend request…”
She pauses, frowns, and deletes it. It’s too formal. Too stiff.
“So, is that your idea of a conversation starter?”
A small smile tugs at her lips, but she shakes her head and backspaces again. Too much.
“What’s the deal with the cupcake?”
She stares at the words for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the send button. With a frustrated sigh, she erases it all and locks her phone.
“Why is this so hard?” she mutters to herself, pushing the duvet off and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The morning chill hits her, and she shivers, padding over to her wardrobe.
As she rummages through her clothes, she glances at her phone again. The notification light blinks at her, mocking her hesitation. She’s overthinking it, she knows she is, but it doesn’t stop the nagging feeling in her chest. What if Violet thinks she’s weird? What if she’s reading too much into a simple emoji?
She pulls on her uniform, straightening the skirt and tying her tie with precision. When she catches her reflection in the mirror, she sighs. It’s just another school day, she tells herself. Nothing special.
Downstairs, the smell of coffee wafts up to her, but Caitlyn hesitates at the top of them. Her mum will be in the kitchen, waiting with breakfast, and endless questions, like always, ready to pounce on her plans for the day. Caitlyn doesn’t feel up to the questions—not when her head’s already spinning.
She grabs her bag and slips out quietly, the door clicking shut behind her. The frosty morning air bites at her cheeks as she pulls her blazer tighter around herself. Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she pulls it out with a flicker of hope, but it’s just a text from Jayce:
“I’m outside.”
His brand new black shiny SUV is parked at the curb, engine idling. Caitlyn hurries over, her breath puffing out in white clouds as she climbs into the passenger seat. Jayce gives her his usual easy grin, his hair perfectly styled as if he didn’t just roll out of bed ten minutes ago. Which Caitlyn knows he definitely will have.
“Morning,” he says, turning down the radio.
“Morning,” Caitlyn replies, buckling her seatbelt.
“Eager to see me. You got here quick.”
“Just trying to avoid my moyher.”
“So you skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?”
Caitlyn shrugs, looking out of the window. “Wasn’t hungry.”
Jayce glances at her, but he doesn’t press. “For the verbal stew?” Instead, he shifts the car into gear and pulls away. “There’s a protein bar in the front box. It’s got your name on it if you want it.”
Caitlyn reaches forward and opens the panel, retrieving the bar from the front. She tears into the wrapper in silence and starts biting on the bar. She at least tries to stifle a smile when Jayce glances her way. But her mind is elsewhere, still stuck on the unanswered message thread.
“What's going on Kiramman, you mad because I ditched you yesterday? I swear I would've texted but Mel, well. You know,” Jayce says after a moment. “Anyway, what’s up?”
Caitlyn hesitates, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “How would you… respond to something… Like, if someone sent you, I don’t know, just an emoji or something?”
Jayce raises an eyebrow. “Depends on the emoji. Is it a good one?”
“A cupcake.”
“A cupcake?” He laughs. “Well, that’s definitely not bad. Who’s it from?”
“No one,” Caitlyn says quickly, her cheeks heating.
“Ah yes. The illusive no one, you know I could definitely get Viktor to hack into your Facebook and-”
“Jayce.”
“Right,” he says, dragging out the word. “Well, I’d say just roll with it. Send something back. Maybe a smiley face. Keep it casual.”
“Casual,” Caitlyn echoes, nodding slowly.
Jayce glances at her again, smirking. “Or you could overthink it for hours, which is clearly your plan.”
Caitlyn swats his arm. “Shut up.”
They fall into a companionable silence, the radio playing softly in the background. After a moment, Jayce speaks again. “I’m taking Mel to the winter ball.”
Caitlyn looks over at him, eyebrows raised. “Really? Didn’t think she was into school dances.” Sarcasm drips from her voice.
“She made me promise. Apparently, it’s a ‘show of unity’ or something. Her mum thinks football players and cheerleaders being good role models might help the behaviour.”
Caitlyn snorts. “Sounds romantic.”
“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s already picking out my suit.”
They both laugh, and for a moment, the tension in Caitlyn’s chest eases. But as they pull into the school car park, it creeps back. Her eyes scan the line of cars, searching for Violet’s familiar beat-up vehicle, but it’s nowhere to be seen.
Jayce notices her hesitation. “Looking for someone? Sorry, no one?”
“No,” Caitlyn says quickly, shaking her head.
Jayce doesn’t push, just parks the car and turns to her. “You want to hang out at lunch? We could hit the library or something.”
“Text me later,” Caitlyn says, forcing a smile. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Always Cait,” he says, watching as she climbs out. “And sorry for not giving you a ride yesterday, I promise next ones for you!” He half shouts as she walks away from the car.
Caitltn lingers for a moment, scanning the car park one last time before heading towards the school entrance. Her heart sinks a little, though she can’t quite explain why.
The day is just starting, but she already knows she won’t be able to focus. She sits at the long table in art class, her sketchbook open in front of her, the edges of the paper slightly crinkled from her backpack. Her pencil moves in light, absent-minded strokes, her focus drifting far away from the classroom. Around her, the low hum of chatter fills the room, punctuated by the occasional sound of pencils scratching on paper or paint brushes clinking in jars of water.
She glances at the nearly finished doodle taking shape on her page—a cupcake. Its lines are soft, the swirl of frosting exaggerated, with little sprinkles scattered on top. Her lips tug into a small smile as her mind drifts back to Violet’s message, that single cupcake emoji that’s going to be living rent-free in her head seemingly forever.
“You’re quiet today.”
Caitlyn snaps out of her thoughts to find Maddie leaning over, peering at her sketchbook with a curious smirk. She has that teasing glint in her eye that Caitlyn knows all too well.
“I’m always quiet,” Caitlyn says, trying to sound casual as she angles the sketchbook slightly away.
“Not this quiet,” Maddie counters, propping her chin on her hand. “You’ve been off in la-la land all morning. And now you’re drawing?” She reaches over to slide the sketchbook back, “Baked goods? What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” Caitlyn says quickly, a little too quickly. “It’s just... something to draw.”
She arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “Right. Because you’re usually so into cupcakes.”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes but feels her cheeks heat. The way Violet says Cupcake is entirely different. “It’s just a doodle, Maddie.”
“A suspiciously specific doodle,” Maddie says, tapping her pencil against the table. She leans closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You’re thinking about something,”
Before Caitlyn can respond, another voice cuts in from across the table.
“Caitlyn? Thinking about someone? No way,” one of their friends, Sophie, says with a grin, clearly having overheard.
“I’m not thinking about anyone, or anything” Caitlyn protests, but it’s too late.
“Oh, she totally is,” Maddie says, her smirk widening. “She’s got that dreamy look in her eyes. Spill already.”
“It’s nothing!” Caitlyn insists, closing her sketchbook and leaning on it as if that might somehow end the conversation.
“Yeah, nothing,” Maddie mimics, “That’s why you’ve been zoning out all class like a lovesick poet.”
Sophie snickers. “Honestly, Cait, you’ve been out of it. Did something happen?”
Caitlyn shakes her head, trying to laugh it off. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Sure you are,” Maddie says, clearly unconvinced.
“Maybe she’s distracted because she’s secretly planning her career as a cupcake artist,” Sophie jokes, gesturing to the sketchbook.
The group bursts into laughter, and Caitlyn lets herself smile despite her embarrassment. It’s easier to let them believe she’s just in a weird mood than to explain the truth.
As the conversation shifts to other topics, Caitlyn quietly flips open her sketchbook again, her eyes lingering on the cupcake.
It seems to taunt her, reminding her of the casual confidence and the way her laugh seemed to linger even after their conversations ended. She sighs, sketching a few more lines before setting her pencil down. Maybe Maddie’s right—maybe she is a little distracted.
But there’s no way she’s admitting that to anyone. Not yet, anyway.
--
The faint glow of Violet’s phone illuminates her face in the early morning gloom. She’s perched on the edge of her bed, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. The cursor blinks at her accusingly, daring her to just press send. But the words she’s typed—simple and stupid—don’t feel right. She deletes the message for the third time, sighing heavily.
"Ugh," she mutters, leaning back against the wall and running a hand through her short hair.
The sound of rustling blankets makes her glance across the room. Powder, half-buried under a tangle of sheets and pillows, cracks one bleary eye open.
“What’re you doing up so early?” Powder mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
Violet looks back at her phone, locking the screen and shoving it under her pillow. “Some of us actually intend to get to school on time,” she replies dryly.
Powder snorts, sitting up and yawning. “Yeah, right. Since when do you care about getting to school on time?”
“Since today,” Violet says, her tone clipped. “Now get up, because you care too.”
Powder groans dramatically, stretching her arms above her head. “Fine, fine. But I need to finish my science homework first.”
“You what?” Violet glares at her. “Why didn’t you do it last night?”
Powder shrugs, already grabbing her notebook from the mess of papers on her bedside table. “Got distracted.” She flops back down onto her bed with the paper in hand.
“Distracted meaning texting Ekko?” Vi raises an eyebrow, she stands and heads over to her wardrobe, pulling on her crumpled uniform from the night before. “Can’t you just copy someone?”
“You know as well as I do that Heimerdoofus knows that nobody in that class knows the answers aside from me.”
“So tell him you forgot.”
“He’ll fail me. Even if he likes me.” She sticks out her bottom lip as she rolls over, sending some of the notes cascading onto their bedroom floor.
“Powder if you’re not ready in thirty minutes, I’m leaving without you.”
“No, you’re not,” Powder says without even looking.
“You wanna bet?” Violet shoots back, but there’s a teasing edge to her voice.
It’s another forty minutes before they’re finally out the door, Violet grumbling under her breath as Powder trails behind her, still stuffing papers into her bag. The ride to school is filled with Powder’s animated recounting of some science experiment gone wrong in class yesterday, but Violet barely hears her. Her thoughts are elsewhere.
By the time they pull into the school parking lot, Violet’s patience is thin. She scans the rows of cars, her eyes searching for Caitlyn, but she’s nowhere to be seen. A flicker of disappointment settles in her chest before she quickly stamps it out.
“Of course she'd never be late,” she tells herself under her breath as she slams the car door shut.
“What?” Powder asks, looking over at her.
“Nothing. Go. Don’t forget your homework.” Violet waves her off, watching as Powder bounds toward the science building.
She lingers by the parking lot for a moment, her eyes darting to the school entrance. Her fingers twitch toward her phone in her pocket, but she stops herself. No point in checking for a reply that isn’t there.
As she walks through the halls, Violet tries to push the thought of Caitlyn out of her mind, focusing instead on the hum of chatter and the scrape of lockers opening and closing. But it’s not easy.
She catches herself wondering what Caitlyn’s doing—if she’s sick, if she’s avoiding her, if she’s already decided this whole thing was a mistake. Violet shakes her head sharply, annoyed with herself.
“Get a grip, Vi,” she mutters under her breath.
When she reaches her locker, she pulls out her phone, opening the message thread with Caitlyn. The little cupcake emoji stares back at her, mocking her. What had she been thinking? She should’ve said something. Anything, besides that.
With a quick swipe, she deletes the entire conversation. It feels like the only way to stop obsessing over it, even though it doesn’t make her feel any better.
By the time Violet gets to her first class, she’s convinced herself it was for the best.
Caitlyn Kiramman would never actually be interested in someone like her. Better to cut it off before she gets her hopes up any higher.
--
The locker room is alive with chatter as Violet shrugs off her jacket and tosses it into her cubby. The faint smell of sweat and floral deodorant hangs in the air, mingling with the squeak of rubber shoes against the floor and the metallic clank of lockers. Her teammates are in various stages of getting ready, tugging on jerseys, taping sticks, and taping up last week's injuries. Violet sits down on the bench, her head low as she unlaces her sneakers, letting the voices swirl around her without really listening.
Janna plops down next to her, tying her hair into a ponytail. “Alright, who pissed you off this time?”
Violet doesn’t look up, focusing instead on her skates. “No one.”
“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes, nudging Violet with her elbow. “You’ve got your ‘don’t mess with me’ face on. Did somebody steal your last cigarette?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Fiona chimes in from across the room, grinning as she adjusts her shoulder pads. “But my money’s on her being mad she didn’t get to punch anyone today.”
A few of the others laugh, and Violet gives an exaggerated sigh, her lips twitching into the barest hint of a smirk. “You’re all hilarious, really.”
Janna leans closer, her expression more serious now. “Seriously, Vi. What’s up? Is it the Powder thing again?”
Violet pulls on her skates and shrugs. “Powder’s as annoying as always. But no, it’s not her, or them talking about her.”
“Well, something’s got you in a mood,” Fi presses, resting her stick against her shoulder. “You’ve been moping around since, well always. Spill it.”
“Drop it,” Violet mutters, yanking the laces tighter on her skates. “It’s nothing.”
The door creaks open before anyone can push further, and Coach S strides in, clipboard in hand. The conversation dies instantly as her sharp eyes sweep over the room. She’s a towering figure, her no-nonsense presence commanding respect even from the loudest in the group.
“Alright, listen up,” Sevika starts, her voice as firm as ever. “Change of plans for today. We’re heading out to the field for some team-building exercises. It’s been a rough week, winning isn't everything, and you need to learn how to work together off the ice, too.”
A collective groan echoes through the room.
“Team-building?” Janna mutters under her breath. “What are we, a summer camp?”
Sevika’s eyes land on her. “You’ll thank me when you’re not skating into each other during the next game, Jones. Get moving. Ten minutes.”
The team reluctantly starts gathering their gear back up. Replacing skates with track shoes and padding with sweatshirts. The air is thick with grumbles and muttered complaints. Violet, however, stays seated, staring down at her laces.
“Braemore,” Sevika says sharply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “That includes you.”
Violet finally looks up, her jaw tightening. “I’m staying.”
Sevika raises an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve got stuff I need to work on,” Violet says firmly. “I’ll practice on the ice.”
Sevika crosses her arms, towering over Violet. “This isn’t optional, Violet. You’re part of a team, whether you like it or not.”
“I know,” Vi meets Sevika’s gaze without flinching. “And I’ll make it up later. But I’m not going out onto the track.”
Sevika studies her for a long moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re out of sync with the rest of the team.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Violet mutters as Sevika turns on her heel and leaves the room.
Fi whistles low under her breath. “She’s going to make you regret that, you know.”
Violet stands, grabbing her iPod and stick. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Without another word, she heads out of the locker room and onto the rink, letting the cold air bite at her skin. It’s quiet out here, which is a welcome change, the sound of her blades cutting into the ice the only noise as she skates a slow lap, her thoughts doing as many continuous laps as she does.
She only pauses to plug her iPod into the rink’s sound system, scrolling through her playlists until she finds something loud and angry. The opening chords echo through the empty bleachers, and she lets the music take over, pushing herself faster and harder, her frustration pouring out onto the ice.
She loses herself in the rhythm, her body moving on autopilot as the music pounds in her ears. But even here, Caitlyn’s face lingers in her mind, her voice soft and teasing.
“Just leave me alone, okay?” Violet shakes her head, trying to banish the thought.
CLICK-CLACK
She picks up speed, her skates carving sharp turns into the ice, the cold air stinging her cheeks as the puck glides forward and backs across her stick.
CLICK-CLACK
And then—
LEFT - RIGHT - LEFT
Her foot catches on a divot in the ice.
She’s airborne for a split second before landing hard, her momentum sending her sliding across the rink. She groans as she finally comes to a stop, flat on her back, staring up at the rafters.
“Well, that’s just great,” she huffs as the pain comes back to life in her lower back, her breath visible in the cold air. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
Unbeknownst to her, the door at the far end of the rink has opened quietly. Caitlyn steps inside, her hesitant footsteps echoing softly on the metal steps. She pauses, watching as Violet curses at the ceiling, oblivious to her presence.
“Are you alright?” Caitlyn’s voice carries across the rink, soft but clear.
Violet freezes, her head snapping up to see Caitlyn standing there, her arms crossed, a small smile tugging at her lips. She groans as she looks up, and promptly lets her head fall back against the ice as she realises. “Just kill me now.”
Caitlyn blinks, momentarily startled. "Huh? I didn’t hear you."
Vi props herself up on her elbows, scowling playfully. "I said, oh look, Caitlyn Kiramman gets to see me fall straight on my ass as I trip over, an amazing, absolutely zero."
Caitlyn’s smile widens, and she steps closer to the edge of the rink. "Well, maybe you’re just demonstrating to me what not to do?"
Violet laughs, the sound bouncing off the empty walls of the rink. "Sure, let’s go with that.” She flips onto her knees and back to her feet, scooping her rogue stick up off the ice as she goes. She skates over to the far side where the other senior stands waiting. “So are you stalking me now, Kiramman, or do I just have impeccable timing?"
Caitlyn rolls her eyes, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I had to speak to you. Such a… cryptic, message you left me last night."
"Yeah, well, it was late. Didn’t wanna wake you or leave you hanging." She starts skating slowly again her movements fluid again now that she’s back on her feet. "So… here I am. Live and in person. No emojis required."
Caitlyn arches an eyebrow. "How come the rest of the team isn’t here?"
Vi just shrugs, stopping just short of the barrier on the opposite side of the rink again. "Coach let them practice off rink. Something about team bonding. Not really my thing."
Caitlyn smirks. "So skating laps with angry music is?"
"Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it." Violet grins, pushing off and gliding in a lazy circle around. "It’s therapeutic. You should give it a go."
Caitlyn shakes her head quickly. "I don’t plan on ever getting on the ice again, thanks."
Violet skates backward now, looking directly at her. "Scared?"
"Terrified," Caitlyn deadpans, but her smile betrays her amusement.
"Suit yourself." Violet stops abruptly in the middle of the rink, looking thoughtful. "But since you’re here, if you plan on staying that is, you could at least do the music thing. My iPod’s plugged into the sound system." She jerks her thumb toward the corner. "Switch it up. Let me see what Caitlyn Kiramman listens to."
Caitlyn hesitates, her cheeks flushing slightly. "That’s embarrassing."
"Hey, you’ve heard mine," Violet points out, skating in slow, lazy circles.
“Only because you’re already blasting it through the entire arena.”
“You’ve got me there, detective.” Vi teases, but Caitlyns is already walking toward the sound system, her curiosity outweighing her nerves.
Violet leans on her stick, watching with interest as Caitlyn picks up the iPod, scrolling through the playlists. “Alright, Cait. Show me what you’ve got." She yells.
There’s a pause as Caitlyn debates her options. Finally, she selects a track and presses play. The opening chords of Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand fill the rink.
Violet’s face lights up in recognition. "Ah, a classic."
Caitlyn crosses her arms, blowing the stray hair of her fringe away with a breath. "You’ve got a problem with classics?"
"Not at all." Violet’s skates pick up speed as she weaves across the ice, her movements perfectly synced to the beat. "But it’s giving major ‘safe choice’ vibes." She yells as the beat picks up.
Caitlyn narrows her eyes, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? This song is iconic."
"Iconic, sure," Violet agrees, grinning as she spins in a tight circle, puck dancing at the end of her stick before she lets it fire into the goal. "But it’s also what every guy in a polo shirt plays at a party to impress girls."
Caitlyn laughs despite herself, the sound genuine and unguarded. "Okay, fine. Next one’s a wildcard."
"You’d better deliver," Violet challenges, skating closer to the edge as the song fades out.
Caitlyn swaps the track, and the opening bars of Misery Business by Paramore flood the rink. Violet stops mid-skate, raising her eyebrows.
"Well, well," she drawls, smirking. "Didn’t think you had it in you, Kiramman."
Caitlyn tilts her head, feigning innocence. "What can I say? I’m full of surprises."
Violet skates right up to the barrier door, the part where there’s no perspex, resting her arms on it as she looks at Caitlyn. "You’re not as boring as you look, you know that?"
Caitlyn raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching. "Should I be flattered or offended?"
"Take your pick," Violet says with a wink, pushing off the barrier and heading back onto the ice.
Caitlyn watches her for a moment, her expression softening. "You’re good at this, you know."
Vi glances over her shoulder. "What, skating?"
"Yeah," Caitlyn says quietly, she steps up closer to the rink again. "And not just skating. You’ve got this… way of making people feel like they’re the only person in the room."
Violet falters slightly, her cheeks flushing. She skates another lap to think before responding, "Maybe that’s because I don’t let a lot of people into the room."
Caitlyn doesn’t know what to say to that, so she heads back to the safety of the box and presses play on another song instead. This time it’s I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor by Arctic Monkeys. Vi nods in silent approval, skating to the beat as the tension in the air eases.
The session continues, song after song, as Violet loses herself in the music and Caitlyn finds herself watching more than she’s listening to any of the songs. She has never been so interested in hockey. The sun is dipping lower by the time Violet finally skates to a stop, breathing hard but grinning.
"Alright, I’ll admit it. You’ve got decent taste." Violet skates off the rink, breathing heavily but with a satisfied grin on her face.
"Decent?" Caitlyn echoes, laughing.
"Don’t push it," She teases, but her tone is warm. "Come on. Let’s get out of here."
She stays at the edge, her hands still tucked in her pockets, watching her every move. Violet says, leaning on her stick, the pain in her legs tingling still as she steps off the ice.
"Alright, I’m heading to the locker room to change,"
"Yeah, want me to come with?" Caitlyn says, more to keep the company than anything else. Vi doesn’t say anything, so she takes the silence as an okay. She walks alongside her.
Once inside, Violet drops her gear in front of her locker and starts unpopping her jersey. Caitlyn looks around, her gaze awkwardly bouncing between the floor, the walls, and then quickly back to the door. She’s about to turn around when she hears the unmistakable sound of fabric being pulled off.
She immediately spins on her heel, her back facing Violet. She can feel her cheeks warming as she tries to busy herself by adjusting her jacket. She’s not sure why this feels so awkward—she’s seen people change before, but this is different.
Violet lets out a small chuckle from behind her. "Cupcake, we’ve had Phys Ed together for like the past eight years since middle school. Get over it."
Caitlyn flinches at the statement but quickly recovers. She huffs, pretending to concentrate on something, anything else. "It’s not like I'd be staring," she mutters, her voice just a little too defensive. She turns around and comes face to face with Vi.
Violet's laugh is easy, the sound teasing but light. "How do you think I realised I was into girls in the first place?"
Caitlyn’s face goes bright red at the insinuation. She feels her heart race for a moment, then her thoughts scramble. She shifts her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. "I—I didn’t mean that! It’s just…" She trails off, unsure of how to explain the fluster that’s making her feel so awkward.
Violet pulls off the rest of her jersey, slipping into a hoodie with ease. "Relax. It’s no big deal." She flashes Caitlyn a mischievous grin as she steps away, grabbing her spare sweatpants, pulling them on without a care in the world.
Caitlyn turns her back to Violet again, trying to ignore the warmth in her cheeks. "I wasn’t…" she starts again, but it’s not like she can really finish her sentence. She’s already embarrassed enough.
Violet notices Caitlyn’s discomfort at the subject, so opts for changing it entirely. "Do you have anything planned for after this?"
Caitlyn, still facing away from her, shrugs. "Not really. I was just gonna head home, I just couldn’t find you anywhere else."
"Well, lucky for you," Vi says, zipping up her jacket, "I’m giving you a ride again."
Caitlyn turns back around, surprised. "You don’t have to do that."
Violet flashes a grin as she grabs her bag from the bench. " What, you don’t want my company?"
"That’s not it." Caitlyn’s voice softens, and she finally meets Violet’s eyes. "I just don’t want to be a hassle."
Violet shakes her head, the teasing smirk still on her lips. "You’re not. Besides I’ve got 3 spare seats and approximately one, maybe two friends."
Caitlyn can’t help but laugh at that. It feels like everything’s a little lighter now, the awkwardness starting to fade. "Alright, alright. I accept."
The air outside feels colder than it did earlier, and the quiet evening light is just beginning to settle over the rink. As they step out of the locker room together, the silence between them is comfortable now. The first stop is back over the PA system, Caitlyn had forgotten entirely about her phone, it’s only when Vi unplugs it and sets it into her hands she even thinks. The notification light flashes all colours now, probably her Mom, Maddie, Jayce. But she doesn’t care. She slides it into her blazer pocket.
All she can think about is Vi’s hands. How warm they are. She wonders what it would be like to hold them…And then.
Vi shoves her hands into her jacket pockets. "You sure you don’t want to try skating again?" she asks casually. “I'll be here most days,”
Caitlyn shakes her head, walking alongside her as they head toward the parking lot. "Nope. As we established, I’m terrible at it."
Violet grins, glancing sideways at her. "You could at least give it another shot. Maybe I’ll teach you properly."
Caitlyn raises an eyebrow. "Teach me? You mean, crash into me and laugh when I fall?"
Violet shrugs nonchalantly. "It’s a learning experience."
Caitlyn snorts, amused by Violet’s confidence. "I think I’ll pass, at least for now"
They reach Violet’s car, and Caitlyn hesitates for a moment, trying to figure out how to express what she’s feeling.
But before she can find the words, Violet slides into the driver’s seat and looks over at her with a smile. "Don’t keep me waiting."
She can’t stop herself from smiling as she climbs into the passenger seat, the warmth from the car instantly welcoming.
As they drive off into the evening, the chatter between them is easy—like they’ve known each other for far longer than they really have. Violet turns the music up a little louder, letting the car fill with the sound of something Caitlyn doesn’t recognize.
"Thank you, again," Caitlyn says quietly, not sure if she’s thanking her for the ride or for something else.
Violet smiles, glancing at her. "No problem."
Caitlyn just shakes her head, amused, and looks out the window.
“Alright,” she says, breaking the momentary silence. “I still have to ask, why the cupcake emoji?”
Violet grins, her hands resting casually on the steering wheel. “Oh, that? Just felt right.”
Caitlyn arches an eyebrow, unimpressed with the vague answer. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
She smirks, glancing at her briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “Well, it’s ‘cause you’re sweet, like a cupcake.”
Caitlyn feels her cheeks heat up at the casual delivery, the sincerity in Violet’s voice catches her off guard. She stares out the window still, trying to mask the sudden rush of warmth in her chest. “I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate,” she mutters, her tone half-deflective, half-amused.
“Nah, it fits,” Vi says, her voice softer now. “You’re smart, sharp, yeah—but there’s this sweetness about you too. Like, even when you’re all serious and proper, it’s still there.”
Caitlyn blinks, stunned into silence for a moment. “You barely know me,” she counters.
Vi just shrugs, her eyes still on the road. “Maybe. But I’m not wrong.”
"Well… thank you, I suppose.”
She chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. “You’re welcome, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.