Rating: PG-13 (for some lingo issues)

I limped down the hall, struggling to keep my balance. The crutches weren’t helping. It was hard enough to maintain balance with my two “left” feet.

“Hey, Christine,” Janice Mayer said, tauntingly. “I heard about your ankle. Talk about tough luck and with the semi-finals in tomorrow too.” She smirked, “Jack says I’ll have to start practicing my spikes.”

I bit down on my tongue to restrain from snapping. Janice, pretty much, looks like she should be on the sidelines screaming “RA! RA!”

“See you at practice, I’ll save you a seat in the bleachers,” she chirped, smiling at her own good fortune.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead sitting next to you,” I replied evenly. Sure, it wasn’t the quickest comeback, but it wiped that smug smile of her heart shape face.

She narrowed her blue eyes at me and opened her mouth to reply, but Jack Hammond came out, “Janice, we need you. Hey Chris, sorry about your ankle, Jamie feels awful.”

“Its okay,” I replied, blushing slightly. Jack was our coach, who, may I add, is really cute. He had blonde shaggy hair that hung in his piercing blue eyes and a dark tan. Tall, athletic, the perfect beach babe.

“You can call it quits for today if you like,” he suggested. “In fact, I think it would be best.”

I cringed, “Sure, see you later…”

“Great,” Jack said, “Come on, Janice.”

After they left, I made my way to the girl’s locker room to grab my duffel bag. Talked about peeved. Like, it wasn’t bad enough to be disqualified from competing because of a sprained ankle, but they use Janice to replace me?? Her spikes went flying everywhere and she couldn’t get enough air jumping up.

I change out of my volleyball team shirt and shorts into baggy jeans and a white t-shirt, with a tie-dye volleyball with some wording on the back. I dug threw my bag to find my red bandana, which I tied around my forehead, just like how my fave Olympian, Apolo Anton Ohno, wears it.

My friends call it obsession, I call it loyalty.

I slowly made my way down the stairs; the elevator was jammed again, towards my silver extended Ford truck, whom which I called it Harrison. I tossed my stuff in the back and hoped in. With no place to go, I head towards the near by ice rink.

Nicole, my friend, works there. She’s the only one I can confine anything with. Besides my other small group of friends here, that is.

Nicole is truly unique, since her mother is Chinese; she has a China woman’s features. Long silky black hair with almond shaped eyes, with smooth perfect tan skin. Short, petite, and one heck of an athlete. Her dream is to be a figure skater. I’ve watched her and she can kick some butt. Her music and skating are usually catchy and upbeat.

I’m like her friggin’ opposite. I’m at least six inches taller, with rugged features. Short wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. I’m not hideous; I have flawless skin, of zits anyway. Besides a few childhood (and now and days) scars, I’m okay.

I parked my truck in an empty parking space up front and literally, crawled out. I grabbed my sketchpad and headed inside.

“Hey Christine,” Zoë, another co-worker, said. “Nicole is out on the rink. Want your usually hockey skates?”

I blushed, big feet run in the family. “Not today,” I said, showing her my ankle.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, smacking her gum. “I swear, being behind the counter is such a drag, you can’t even see half of the people that walk in here. A friggin’ criminal can just waltz in with ease.”

“Later Zoë,” I replied to the short, blue streaked hair girl.

She pushed her horn-rimmed glasses back up her nose, “Later!”

I hobbled out just in time to see Nicole do a flawless triple axle. I clapped.

She skated over to me, “Hey chica, heard about your ankle, major drag.”

“I can’t even compete tomorrow,” I said.

“Ouch, who is taking your place,” she asked.

“Guess.”

“Janice?”

“Yep.”

“Ouch.”

I shifted my weight to my left leg to prop up my right more; my arms were aching from the stupid crutches. “Yeah, look, I’ll be sitting over there on the bleachers, just sketching away,” I said, pointing towards an empty spot.

“Of what?” Nicole asked, starting to skate back out towards the middle, “Friday is usually a slow day, believe it or not.”

“Is it possible for a slow day in New York?” I called back, but she was warming up again.

I sat down and propped up my right ankle. I leaned against the wall, chewing on my pencil, looking for a subject. Straight ahead I saw a boy, in his late teens, walk out on the ice. He began doing laps.

He had this total feel for the ice thing goin’ on. I swear, how do people do that? I can barely stand on ice.

He past me a few times, which gave me an idea. I began to draw.

A little while later, I felt as though someone was watching me.

“Good drawings,” said a man’s voice. I about jumped out of my skin; I looked up to see an elder looking man looking down at my pad. “You have talent.”

“Thanks,” I said, shocked.

“Sorry for startling you,” he continued. “Who is that your drawing?”

I pointed towards the teen as he skated by again.

“Interesting,” the man said. “You have every detail that a person can see seating where you are. Amazing.”

I blushed.

“Hey, hotshot,” the man called to the boy. “Looky here, a friggin’ artist!”

The boy skated over and I about keeled over.

“Yeah, Coach?” He asked.

“Miss, could I see those pictures?” The man asked me. I gladly handed him my pad, my heart pounding.

“Look, Ohno,” he said to the boy.

“These are good,” he commented.

Oh-my-gawd, Apolo Anton Ohno is about a foot away from me and he’s complementing me on my crappy drawings.

“Could I have your autograph?” I asked numbly, holding out my pencil to him. The old man laughed.

“Looks like a fan,” he commented.

Apolo looked straight in my eyes, “Sure,” he said, taking the pencil, our fingertips touching.

Thank God I didn’t freak, I’d hate for my first and possible last appearance to him be, she’s a friggin’ teenybopper.

“Here,” he said, handing it back to me.

“Thank you…” I faded of. What do I call him? Apolo? Mr. Ohno? Your highness? (Okay, I’m stretching it…)

“Apolo,” he said, filling in the blank. “Just plain Apolo. And you are?”

An idiot, I thought to myself. “Christine,” I said, shaking his hand. He had a firm grip, soft hands, compared to my knarled looking hands, anyway.

To make conversation, he said, “What does you shirt say?”

I turned around and he read it out loud, “My boyfriend said that he would leave me if I play one more game of volleyball…I’ll sure miss him,” he laughed.

I couldn’t tell if it was a cute-shirt laugh or an immature-looking-shirt laugh.

He noticed my ankle, “Ouch, what happen?”

“Volleyball injury,” I replied.

“You play volleyball?”

“Yeah, my team is down here playing in the tournament, semi-finals are tomorrow.”

“Cool.”

Think of something creative, you moron, I thought to myself. “So, if you could change the sky to anything you wanted, what color would it be?”

I caught him off guard, “Uh…red or something…”

And that was the beginning of the most interesting conversation yet. I continued asking questions like, if President Bush could be an animal, which one would it be? He found this very entertaining and I told him that it was to keep him on his toes and that you don’t what reporters will ask today.

“Hey, I’d hate to stop this delightful little conversation, but you need to continue practicing, Apolo,” the old man said.

“Coming, Sam,” he said. “It was very nice to meet you, maybe I could come to your game tomorrow. Is it at that one gym by the park?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Around twelve.”

“Cool, hopefully I’ll see you then,” he said, getting up and headed back towards the rink.

“Later,” I called after him, he gave a short wave. I sighed a looked at my watch, shoot! I needed to head back to the hotel.

“Bye, Nicole,” I said as I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door.

“I’ll call you and we’ll talk about Apolo later,” she replied.

“Okay, Liz, Jamie and Janice, you guys take front, Sam, Lacey, Ginger, back. Keep Ginger in the middle, and Ginger? Bump it to either Liz or Jamie,” Jack instructed.

It was Saturday; I was sitting down scanning the crowd for Apolo. I doubt he would come, but a girl could dream, can’t she?

I spotted Nicole and Zoë, who were sitting dressed in their usual fashion of bright colorful clothes. But no Apolo.

I take things too literal; I needed to work on that.

We won the game, no thanks to Janice, who couldn’t hit a set if it was frozen mid-air. Zoë and Nicole walked over to me. “Good game,” Zoë said.

“I could’ve play,” I couldn’t help but complain. “But Jack wouldn’t let me. But for the finals, I get my old spot back.”

“Do as Jack says…” Zoë advised, gaping at him.

“No, Zoë, you’re not being obvious,” Nicole teased.

Liz joined us, “I heard the good news, Christine, thank God too. Janice sucks.”

Someone taped me on my shoulder, I turned to see Apolo. “Congratulations, when are the finals?” He asked.

“Monday,” I replied, smiling.

“Will you be at the rink tomorrow?”

“Yep, and I’ll be able to show you my amazing skating abilities,” I joked.

“I have to go,” Apolo said. “See you around!”

“Bye,” I replied.

“Oh-my-gawd, that was friggin’ Apolo Anton Ohno,” Liz gasped when he was well out of hearing range. “I thought you were full of bull shit when you said he would be coming to the game.”

I looked at her disapprovingly, “One, you didn’t believe me? And two, watch the mouth.”

She rolled her eyes, “So are you going to the rink tomorrow.”

“Duh,” I replied.

“Ladies,” Jack yelled over the group of screaming girls. “Good game, anyone for pizza?”

We all yelled a yes and we headed out to the beat up van we had rented.

“Oh no,” I cried as tripped and fell on the hard, cold ice.

“You okay?” Nicole asked.

No, “I’m fine,” I said standing up. “I just to warm up, I haven’t skated for ever.”

I started to skate around the rink slowly. When I was use to that, I began to gain speed. Before you knew, you could just call me Apolo.

“Hey, Christine!” Apolo called to me.

I lost my concentration and fell, sliding into the wall. “Are you okay?” I opened my eyes to see him walk out on the ice towards me. He grabbed my hand and helped me stand. With the skates, I towered over him.

“Thank you,” I said, wiping the ice off my pants.

“Your to tense,” he said. “You need to loosen up a little.” He walked off the ice to get his skates. “Here, I’ll show you,” he said, coming back out.

He gently took my hand and we did a few laps, then he went off on his own.

My stomach was doing somersaults, and my head was spinning. I just skated with Apolo. Me! I could not wait to get back and tell my friends, they might not believe me. Heck, I don’t even believe this.

All of the sudden, my cell phone rang. I quickly skated over, falling almost twice, and answered it. “Hello?”

“Chris? Its Janice, major problem,” she said.

“Why are you calling me?”

“Cut the wisecracks. Sam has food poisoning. Something in the pizza, I think. You need to head over the gym, because I hurt my shoulder. Your our only spiker.”

Crap, talk about pressure. “Okay, I’ll be there in five,” I said, closing my cell phone with a snap.

“Bye everyone,” I said, grabbing my duffel bag.

“Where are ya goin’?” Nicole asked.

“My team is going threw a crisis, I’ll try to get back,” I said, hurrying out the door.

I hoped in my truck and sped all the way to the gym. (My name spreads terror through pedestrians) I grabbed my kneepads and ran up the stairs. “I’m here,” I said. My voice echoed through the empty gym. “Hello?”

I checked the lockers and no one was here. Then it hit me. Janice, the little screwball, must’ve pulled one over me. My cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Uh, hey Christine,” Nicole said. “I think you should head back here, cuz Janice is skating with your guy.”

“Apolo is not my guy,” I corrected. Then her words sank in, “She’s what???”

“She’s hanging all over him. Its disgusting, he looks mortified.” Nicole said.

“I can’t believe she would stoop so low.”

“I can.”

“What am I gonna do? She’s a shoo-in compared to me, I’m screwed!”

“Look, she may have the looks, but you have the heart. Just hurry back.” She hung up.

I rushed back out to my truck.

As I walked into the lobby, I saw Janice hanging onto Apolo’s arm. I swear, it was enough to make you sick. I walked over and heard their conversation.

“I love speed skating,” Janice said. “I’ve seen every single thing on TV about you!”

The last comment gave me an idea, “Yeah, its really amazing on the five medals you won in the Olympics,” I said smugly.

“Yep, saw all five of your races,” she said.

Apolo stared at her with his eyebrows raised. “Uh, I’ll be right back,” he said, walking away.

“Thanks for the Olympic tip,” she said, sounding grateful.

“No problem, considering the fact he won only two medals and was in four races,” I replied.

She blushed, “How-how, I can’t believe…” she stuttered. Flaming, she grabbed her purse and left.

“Ding-dong, the witch is dead,” Zoë and Nicole began to sing. I smiled.

“Ah, I am eternally grateful,” Apolo said, jogging over.

“Your welcome,” I said, smiling at my wit.

Zoë excused herself to go play some music; she hopes to become a DJ some day. And we just skated for the fun of it.

The crowd roared as Samantha jumped up and aced the ball right over the net. The score was 15 to 16 and we were at game point, again. We had to at least win by two points. The ref threw the ball to Janice.

The whistle blew and Janice over hand served the ball. The other team returned it with ease. Sam bumped it to Ginger who set it perfectly in my direction.

“I got it,” I said, running towards it. But Janice jumped in front of me and spiked it, right into the net that is.

“TIME OUT!!” Jack yelled. We hustle over to him. “Janice, Chris, I haven’t a clue what the hell is going on, but if you two don’t shape up, I’m pulling you both out of the game. Side out, ladies!”

I jogged back to my spot and ignored Janice who was glaring at me. The other team served, but it was short. It was Liz’s turn to serve.

She served it over and they bumped and set. I ran up to the net to block, but the spike was too high. Thankfully, Liz dived forward and hit it back in the air. Janice set it away from me. I ran towards it and tried to hit it over with one hand, and failed.

“Learn to set,” I snapped out of frustration.

“Learn to spike,” Janice hissed.

The score was 16 all.

In the corner of my eye I saw Apolo walk in. He looked as handsome as ever; his eyes seem to light up when he saw me, but I could be seeing things.

They served and it was out, Amy’s serve.

She hit it over nicely and they returned it in one bump, totally giving it to us. Amy bumped it, Ginger set it and I ran forward and spiked it over, giving us 17 to 16.

Amy hit it over again. They returned it and it was volleying back and forth, ‘till one girl from the other team tried to spike it. I was totally prepared for it. I jumped up and block. The volleyball balanced on the top for a split second then fell on their side.

Final score, 18 to 16. We won.

The crowd went into a frenzy, jumping, screaming. Total strangers came up congratulating me or, get this, asking for my autograph. Ah, finally, my fifteen minutes of fame!

Apolo came over and hugged me, I about freaked. But he looked sad.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he yelled over the crowd.

My heart sank, “Oh, you are? When?”

“Around four in the morning,” he replied.

“Four? How cruel!”

He was just about to say something else, but my team surrounded me. My Jack and his assistant Drew, lift me on their shoulders, “MVP!” Jack yelled. “Taught her everything!” He joked.

I smiled while looking for Apolo, I guess he had left…

I ran as fast as I could. “Miss, don’t run,” said some security guard, but that didn’t slow me down. Then I saw him, preparing to board the plane.

“APOLO!” I yelled, running over to him.

He ducked under the railing an embraced me. “Sorry I’m late,” I said, pulling away.

“I didn’t think you would come at all,” he said, honestly.

I handed him a package, “Here,” I said. “It’s a white bandana, I had the whole team sign it. Who knows, maybe the next time you see us is on the Summer Olympics.”

He smiled, then took off his own gray bandana and handed it to me. “Its an original.” He said.

I tied around my forehead, “Thanks,” I said.

We exchange emails and then, gasp, he kissed me on the cheek.

Oh-my-gawd.

“Time to go, Apolo,” his coach called to him.

“Coming,” he looked at me. “Hopefully, I’ll see you again. Bye,” he left.

“Bye…”I said, still in awe at the fact that he kissed me.

We emailed each other; I still asked him my little odd ball questions. And I kept track on him with the Internet. I saw him on TV for the first time in weeks; he had just won a medal. The reporter pulled him aside. “How do you feel?” They asked.

“Great,” he said, taking off his helmet. Tied around his forehead was the bandana I had given him…