When Nadia Marsh; a cheerful and popular ice skater, is overtaken by a mystery illness, everything changes.
When everyone around her is training for sectionals; Nadia is house bound, where even the smallest effort leaves her feeling exhausted.
Getti...
"Deeper than I've felt it before with you, baby, I feel I'm falling in love with all my heart."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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NADIA'S POV:
It was hard admitting to Corey that I think the chances of my future in skating are gone completely. It was the first time I've said it out loud and Corey is the last person I thought I would be opening up to about it. It was also the first time I've really admitted it to myself as it's not something that anyone really will ever want to come to terms with.
I don't know how I feel about it yet but right now it certainly isn't great. I've spent my whole life working towards this one thing and I have only just realised it will never happen. Oh well, I'll get over it and find something else eventually I hope.
In my mind I'm making myself feel better by telling myself that I had no choice but to tell him. I just needed to let it out and he was here and he has a way of making me be able to tell him things without me really wanting to. Corey is a tricky person to deal with, he is so infuriating. When he isn't here pushing his way into my life, he is invading my thoughts like an infection you can't get rid of.
Corey is just like my Tonsillitis; painful, irritating and won't leave me the hell alone.
"Really?" Corey asks me and I just stare at him blankly. "Right, yes, of course."
What does he think? I am saying all this for the fun of it because I wanted some pity. It seems to be that's all that people think of me these days.
"I want you to come somewhere with me." He says, taking my hand from me but I pull it back, not wanting his burning touch on me any longer than it has to be.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Why not?" He asks, doing the same and crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation.
"You have done enough, now go home. I feel better already." I say, packing the paints back up so that I can put them back where I found them in my dad's office. I know for a fact he won't care that I used them, he doesn't even use them himself but I just like the thought of keeping something from my parents. I know it's only me borrowing my father's paints but it makes me feel like I'm sneaking around almost, which helps me feel like a normal teenager. I used to do a lot worse when I was healthy but this is the most extravagant thing I've done in months, other than running off to the ice rink this morning.
"No." Is all he responds with.
"No?" I ask him and he says nothing. "What do you mean no?"
"What I mean is, you are going to put on some proper clothes and come with me," He responds, taking the paints off of my desk. "Where do these go?"
