Chapter Text
The cold, artificial air of the ice rink was perfect for clearing the mind. Cornelia preferred the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the soft chatter of her fellow skaters outside of public hours, but the tinny popular music playing through the speakers was tolerable enough. It wasn’t quite late enough in the year for it to start blasting Christmas music, thank god, and at least during the day there was no chance of having her time cut short by the sweaty boys from one of Heatherfield’s six-hundred high school ice hockey teams.
Skating had always felt like flying, even before Cornelia knew what flying actually felt like. Smooth and free and easy, curving around the rink with only the barest of intentions and the practised stretch and curve of her body.
Not to say that her talent had come easy. Cornelia remembered all her falls: Sprained tendons and twisted ankles, a small faded scar from the time she fell and fractured her wrist. That's what made being good at skating so satisfying - the work of countless hours of training translating into effortless, captivating movement.
Skating felt good, and Cornelia excelled at it. It made her feel powerful, intentional. Sometimes, when she needed to shut her brain down, shut out every distraction and irritation, Cornelia would come to the Heatherfield Multi-purpose Ice Arena and just move.
“Corny, could you get your ass back here and help me up?”
This was not one of those times.
Rolling her eyes and swivelling on the edge of her skate, Cornelia glided over to Irma, slumped on the floor like a sad-sack loser. She glared up at Cornelia with a pout, leaning against the barrier with her legs splayed on the ice and arms crossed grumpily over her loose yellow turtleneck. Failure was a good look on her, Cornelia thought.
Condescendingly. Like normal. Not in a… a gay way.
Cornelia suppressed the pang of uneasiness. Fine. She wasn’t going to deny to herself that Irma was good-looking. That would be unfair to both of them. Those books she had furtively skimmed in the library, the signs in the window in those interesting stores she definitely hadn’t entered - Cornelia had already decided that being… the term was bisexual… was fine. It’s fine. People could be like that these days. Heatherfield was progressive, enough. She wasn’t going to try to shove her attraction into some sort of metaphorical closet like someone who couldn’t handle her own orientation. One sleepless night was enough.
Not that she was going to tell anyone. Her friends, her parents… they would all be happier not knowing. Cornelia would have been happier too, but life wasn’t fair.
Honestly, the bigger problem was that she had a crush on Irma.
God. Not someone sweet and responsible like Will? Taranee? No, it had to be Irma. The worst realization in this journey of self-discovery was that she had bad taste.
Even if Irma was gay or something - which she wasn’t, from the way Cornelia had seen her eyeing some tall, shaggy-haired boy the moment they’d entered the ice - she was also, oh let’s see: loud, obnoxious, immature, thoughtless, and not her type. Sure, Cornelia could envision her being a good partner for someone out there, but not her. Not a chance.
It’s fine. Cornelia had handled it for two weeks; She could handle it forever. Everything would stay normal, and she and Irma would stay friends, and in time this attraction would dry up and disappear. Irma was oblivious as always, and she was going to stay that way, because Cornelia wasn’t an idiot. There were bigger plans and bigger problems in her life than a few uncontrollable feelings.
Also, the thought of Irma ever treating her like she did Martin made her want to die.
Cornelia leaned against the barrier and smirked down at Irma, enjoying her inferiority platonically. “You know, when you said that you would be able to ice skate because you knew how to rollerblade, I was expecting a little more from you. I should have known better.”
As an afterthought, Cornelia offered her a hand. Irma groaned and pulled on Cornelia heavily to stumble back to her feet, hand ice-cold in her own. For someone so stocky, you wouldn’t think she would run so cold.
“Frankly, Corny, this is your fault for being a crap teacher. Did you see me treat you like this when I taught you how to swim?” Irma threw her arms out, spinning from the momentum. “No, I was nice and considerate and a whole lot of stuff you clearly didn't deserve.”
The complaint might have had some weight to it, if Irma had actually asked to be taught. Cornelia circled around her, putting a little extra flair into her movement to enjoy the way Irma narrowed her eyes at her. “You invited yourself along. You said you would be fine! And you’re always complaining that I’m the one who doesn't ask for help when she needs it.”
Irma groaned loud and low, putting her palms over her face in a huff. Then she pushed forward and-
Cornelia exhaled through her teeth as Irma caught her around the waist and sent them both into an off-kilter spin, laying her head against her shoulder and blinking up at her with a big stupid doe-eyed expression. Soft hair brushed against her cheek. “Corneliaaaaa, darling, pretty please teach me how to move in these stupid knife shoes and I promise to never complain about your incredibly massive ego ever again,” she whined, squeezing Cornelia tight.
Thank god for her shawl. Cornelia’s heart was thumping where Irma was pressed against her chest. Stupid! It was a joke! The joke was pretending to be affectionate! Cornelia could cope with Irma being close to her, for god's sake.
“Get off me,” Cornelia groused, pushing at Irma's face. She tried and failed to wriggle out of her grip, face flushed. “We both know that's a promise you’re not keeping. Why can you never do anything normally?”
“Only the best for you, Corny. Is that a yes?”
“Did that last fall give you a concussion?”
Irma cracked a laugh, and let herself be pushed away.
-
So balance wasn’t Irma’s strong suit, but she did start to pick up on the basics quicker than Cornelia had feared. She was just as bad and inattentive a student as Cornelia had expected, but she was learning, at least. While Irma clearly didn't have the… figure for figure skating, watching her take off and charge across the rink at ill-advised speeds made Cornelia think she would be decent at hockey. She had the attitude.
The thought of Irma in hockey gear barrelling into someone was briefly, shockingly flustering.
Christ. Thank god Irma had never shown any interest in sports. She was already distracting enough, with her focused little frown, cheeks and nose pink from the cold.
Despite everything, teaching Irma how to skate was fun. Not freeing, not relaxing, but easy in the way spending time with Irma was supposed to feel. There was a pang of irritation every time she saw Irma getting distracted by Mr. Tall, Blonde and Mediocre, but at least she tended to lose her footing and crash like an idiot whenever he passed by, which Cornelia was enjoying.
No matter how many times she slipped and crashed, Cornelia was always there to offer her a hand, and Irma was always begrudgingly grateful to take it, which was the important thing.
Having Irma in her debt that is. Not the hand-holding.
The whole experience wasn’t particularly romantic, thankfully. Not like the scenes in those romcoms from W.i.t.c.h. movie night, or from those romance novels nobody needed to know Cornelia read. She didn’t need to put her hands on Irma to guide her, not unless she was stopping her from crashing into some roaming family. No romantic music. No conspicuous falls where one partner ends up on top of the other.
It's not like Cornelia was expecting anything, obviously. The thought just occurred to her that something embarrassing could have happened, and didn’t.
Slowly, Irma brought herself to a controlled stop, then whipped around to look at Cornelia like an excited puppy. “Ha! How’s that for balance!”
Cornelia smiled sardonically, and slow-clapped. “Very good job.”
Irma shook her head and smiled at Cornelia. The feeling in her stomach bloomed tight and hot, and only grew more intense when Irma nearly fell over again.
-
By the end of an hour Irma was skating haphazard laps under her own power, muttering under her breath when anyone got in her way, which was frequently. Cornelia easily skated circles around her, backward and forward, throwing in a few fancy foot transitions where the crowd was thin. The weight of Irma's gaze followed her around, hot in the cool air. If Cornelia were here with a different person, she wouldn’t have been showing off so much, but… getting under Irma's skin was always a pleasure. Besides, she was the one who suggested coming along.
Swerving violently to avoid someone’s child, Irma smacked into the barrier again. She turned and scowled at the kid as he sprinted away towards the exit. “Hey junior, you ever heard of a rotary? It’s a one-way system, it’s not complicated!”
Hm. Okay, Irma’s frustration was cute, but starting to get palpable. As fun as it was to watch her struggle between pride and stubbornness, they had been skating for a while. Pressing a mediocre coffee from the in-house arena Dunkin’ into her cold hands would certainly put her in a better mood, Cornelia thought. And a donut, obviously. It wouldn’t be so bad to spend the rest of the afternoon with Irma, would it? Exposure therapy and all. Cornelia had been perfectly well-behaved and normal so far.
Coming up to her side, Cornelia glanced at Irma. “You know, we can leave whenever you want.”
“Honestly, I thought you’d be enjoying my suffering more.” Irma stretched, and took off again, and Cornelia followed. “You think this is the best I've got, Corny?”
“Evidence suggests, dear.” Cornelia said, and cringed as her pulse picked up. Don’t call her that, not even as a joke. She looked over at Irma curiously. “Why the sudden desire to skate? I've never seen you enthusiastic to do any exercise.”
Turning a really lovely shade of pink, Irma put her hand to the back of her neck. “Well, I'm supposed to be your best friend now, aren't I?”
Cornelia’s heart twinged. That… that was sweet. That she was really trying.
But also-
“Are you trying to take Elyon’s place?” she said sharply.
Irma jerked, nearly slipping. “...No?” she said, unconvincingly. “I just thought that it was something we could do together! So you might miss her less?”
Cornelia shot her a look.
Irma winced. “I wasn't thinking of it like that, I swear.”
…No, Cornelia trusted that she just hadn’t thought it through. Irma never struck her as the jealous, insecure type. Heaving out a long-suffering sigh, Cornelia drew herself to her full height to give Irma a sufficiently impetuous glare. “Elyon never actually joined me on the ice, so I suppose you've dodged a bullet. Aren't you lucky.”
“She what!” Irma squawked, glaring at a passing couple. With effort, she slapped her feet hard against the floor and pulled even with Cornelia, face red. “What, did she just watch from the side? What the hell am I doing all this stupid sports crap for!”
Cornelia smiled at her, smug and self-indulgent. Two could play at the affection game. “Why, friendship of course! Aren't you such a good friend. I expect I'll be seeing you at my next competition, since you've decided you're my replacement lucky charm.”
Rising to the challenge, Irma stuck out her chin. “Pft. You know what, babe?”
Cornelia bit down on her tongue.
“I’ve got the radio. Tell me the date and I'll announce it to the whole damn school.” Irma cleared her throat, and pitched her voice into a surprisingly good impression of an overenthusiastic sports announcer. “Come On Down to the Heatherfield Figure Skating Finals, this Saturday at Three P.M. to watch Sheffield’s Very Own Cornelia Hale! She’s Out Of This World!”
Cornelia fought the smile forcing its way across her face. Irma would. She had been one of the loudest voices in the crowd at Will’s last swimming competition, completely shameless. “Don’t you dare.”
“I’ll fill the stands Corny. Do you want live music? Martin can get the band geeks in. Bet Elyon couldn’t pull that off.”
Cornelia just raised her eyebrows, and watched as Irma’s face rapidly descended into horror. “Oh, fuck. Sorry.”
Shameless and stupid. Cornelia mercifully decided once again to forgive Irma for being a complete idiot. She really couldn’t help it. “Do better. Elyon would have known that unlike you, I’m not desperate for attention. Skating is a personal hobby.”
“Oh, but I’m invited? Way to make a girl feel special,” Irma teased, batting her eyes.
Cornelia swallowed. It was cruel. Of course Cornelia had to watch all of her own words and reactions and emotions in case she was being weird, but Irma said and did whatever she wanted so carelessly, and left Cornelia sick to her stomach with an anticipation that could never be filled. The joke flirting didn’t mean anything to Irma, obviously. She just found it funny. Just something girl friends did with each other.
That’s - girls who were friends. Not girlfriends.
Get it together. If she was thrown off by the silly fake flirting Irma would notice. She fumbled for a response.
“I don’t recall inviting you. You invited yourself. I can always change my mind.”
Irma grabbed her hand, her own still shockingly cold. “Girl, you can’t just tease me like that! How about now?”
“Now?”
“A little performance for me?”
Rolling her eyes, Cornelia shrugged out of her grip. “This is a casual day out Irma, I'm not doing a routine now,” she said, and started preparing to do a routine do a routine do a routine for me-
“Irma!” She snapped, face flushing. Irma snickered, unapologetic.
Hearing her voice out loud every day was bad enough, but Cornelia wasn’t sure what cosmic penance she was being served by being the one person on earth who had to literally hear her crush’s voice inside her own head. Magical beings like herself could notice and resist her suggestions, but it was still much too easy to get caught out. She’d watched Will hand Irma a chocolate bar without thinking on like, three separate occasions. Irma hadn’t managed to trick her yet, but…
It was a little nerve-wracking. Just a little. The way Irma intruded into her head, into her thoughts. It wasn’t mind-reading, not like Taranee - a whole separate concern - but that didn’t mean Cornelia wasn't paranoid that Irma might be able to, like, sense it. That she might be convinced to do something that she… that a part of her wanted, in a moment of weakness.
Cornelia looked at Irma’s self-satisfied grin. Her hands twitched.
Squinting, she shoved Irma away, nearly pushing her over. Served her right.
Completely unfazed, Irma righted herself and slung an arm over her shoulders, bringing their faces together. She winked, and Cornelia’s heart thumped pathetically. “Come on Corny! It's not like you to pass up a chance to show off. The rink is free right now, isn't it?”
“It's the middle of the day Irma, it's always busy-”
Cornelia looked around as they slid to a stop.
The rink was not busy.
She looked back at Irma. Irma looked back at her.
“Irma.”
“Yes, Cornelia?”
“Where is everyone?”
Irma smiled innocently. “Maybe everyone just decided to take a quick break?” Her face split into a triumphant grin. “All at the same time?”
Cornelia tilted her head back until she was staring at the fluorescent lights to try to hide her smile, and sighed. “You're unbelievable. How long have you been planning this?”
“Five minutes at least. I must be really distracting, huh?” She squeezed Cornelia's shoulder, proving her point.
Cornelia clenched her jaw for a long moment, and weighed the pros and cons.
There were far, far too many cons. Firstly, she would be giving Irma what she wanted, which was never a good outcome. The tracks of a hundred amateur skaters will have made the ice uneven. She hadn’t had a proper warm-up. Figure skating was personal, something she did for herself, even when she shared it with Elyon. Cornelia has never skated for Elyon, but it has been nice to know that one pair of eyes, somewhere in the crowd, had been watching exclusively for her. Irma was acting so smug for pulling one over on her, but Cornelia was certain that she would blow her expectations out of the water-
Wait, wasn't this supposed to be a list of cons?
…The fact that she was considering it at all meant she had already lost. When Cornelia finally looked down at Irma, it was obvious that she knew it, too.
Cornelia’s heart pounded in anticipation. She’ll show her.
“I am not doing this for you. Now get out of the way so I can blow your tiny mind.”
Irma’s beaming smile made her chest burst with pleasure. Cornelia took a deep, steadying breath, composed herself, and took off.
It was easy to slide into a shorter, simpler version of one of her current routines. Holding her arms aloft in a graceful figure, Cornelia slid through a series of turns, picking up speed and flying around the full length of the rink as in a beautiful dance. A murmur rippled through the crowd as they drew to attention at the sight, cheers echoing around the room as she completed her first jump perfectly and transitioned into a clean, sharp scratch spin, body a blur.
Cornelia held in a grin as her performance attracted more and more applause from the onlookers. Watching her perform was a thing of beauty. And everyone was watching her.
She moved into position in the center of the rink for her final spin, her free leg and arms trailing behind her in the camel position elegantly, then threw her arms up skyward into a balletic spin, her muscles straining to hold the form, in complete control of her body. Holding her arms high in the delicate final position, hands poised and refined, she let herself feel a surge of accomplishment at the cheers and whistles echoing around the room.
Only then did she let herself open her eyes and look at Irma.
Who was… talking to some guy.
Her heart plunged.
That- that bitch!
No, no, she should have expected this. After all, Irma was always easily distracted by people she was attracted to.
But come on! Irma had been the one bugging her to do a routine! What was her problem!
Giving one last low courtesy to the crowd, Cornelia slid up behind a still talking Irma and cleared her throat loudly.
The guy - and it was the guy, shaggy-hair from earlier - paused mid-sentence, eyes sliding over Cornelia in a way that made her uncomfortable. He was tall, and blond, and good-looking, and Cornelia fucking hated him. “Oh hey, Cornelia, right? I’m Michael. Your friend was just telling me about you. Nice show out there,” he said, shooting her a greasy smile.
Everything about him screamed fake. Cornelia didn’t hesitate to let the distaste show on her face. “Thanks. We’ll be going now.”
Without a second glance, she shoved Irma back onto the ice.
“Hey, what gives?” Irma sputtered and protested. She tilted her head back to glare at Cornelia over her shoulder. “He was cute, and totally about to invite me out for coffee. Way to waste my time.”
Wasting her time? Cornelia was wasting Irma’s time? She was supposed to, to-
“Please. Like he was interested in you.” Cornelia snapped, acidic.
Irma pushed away, lip curling. “The hell is your problem? Sorry if you’re busy beating guys off with a stick, but some of us need to take every chance we can get!”
Who did she think Cornelia went out there for? She should have been impressed! Grateful! All she could think about was guys? “I didn’t go to all that effort so you could talk to some boy, Irma. A little appreciation would be polite, don’t you think?” Cornelia whined, petulant even to her own ears. But she was right!
Irma scoffed, and rolled her eyes with her entire head. “What, a whole crowd applauding you wasn’t enough?”
Not when it wasn’t from… from the one person in this room Cornelia actually wanted to…
“Okay, Type-A. Wooooo, everybody look at Cornelia, she did the thing!” Irma mocked. “Now I’m going to go back to see if I can salvage a date with Michael. Are you good, or are you going to bite my head off if I don’t give you a pat on the back, champ?”
Cornelia took a deep breath. “Fine. Don’t let me drag you down. Have fun.”
“More fun than being pushed around by you all day.”
Scowling, Irma disappeared into the crowd. Back to that guy. Cornelia stood and watched her leave, and for the first time all day she felt cold.
...Maybe if she had been wearing one of her dresses? Would that have been enough?
What the fuck was she thinking! Irma wasn't going to suddenly start praising her just because Cornelia was attracted to her. That wasn’t how the world worked. Showing off, begging for attention. Putting on a performance. Letting Irma trick her into making a fool of herself. Expecting what, for her to be impressed? Enticed?
Cornelia wasn’t a boy. She should have known better.
Irma was never serious about watching her perform. She wasn’t Elyon. She was just joking.