Dead on the Ice, Back for Blood

Piper's POV

I'm a figure skating prodigy from one of the wealthiest families in the country. I'm also an idiot.

I believed that if I was kind enough, people would be kind in return. So I sponsored Haley Dunning, a scholarship skater on our team, and treated her like my own little sister.

The day before the NCAA qualifier, she came up to me with a sports drink, said she wanted to help keep my energy up.

I drank it. Went down on the ice with a broken leg. Drug test came back positive for banned stimulants.

Overnight, I went from the queen of the rink to the face of a scandal no one could stop talking about.

Expelled from school. Torn apart on social media. Calloway Corporation's stock in freefall.

Haley stood in front of the cameras, tears in her eyes: "Piper just wanted to win so badly. I never thought she'd go this far..."

I fell into a depression. Couldn't sleep without medication.

Then one day, she showed up at my hospital room with my boyfriend, bearing "comfort": a cup of water and a few pills: "Piper, take your meds, okay? This is all my fault for being so stupid..."

Three minutes later, I'm coughing up blood, convulsing on the floor.

Right before I died, I caught the look on her face. That sweet, innocent face. A slow, vicious smile spreading across it.

She knocked over the pill bottle and started screaming: "I grabbed the wrong ones! I mixed up her antidepressants with some old person's heart meds! I'm so stupid!"

My boyfriend pulled her into his arms. Didn't even glance at me dying on the floor: "She meant well. Piper just had bad luck."

I was poisoned to death in that hospital room.

Then I opened my eyes, and it was the day before the qualifier.

"Piper? Piper, hey, drink this already, you're about to go on. I added some glucose, figured it'd help."

That soft, sugary voice pulls me back from hell.

My eyes snap open. The locker room. Cold metal and rubber. And that face, holding out a drink, looking at me like she actually cares.

I'm back. Sent back to the day before the qualifier that took everything from me.

Looking at that face I hate more than anything, looking at that drink that destroyed my entire life, my blood runs hot.

Every second of the pain, the humiliation, the helplessness comes flooding back, burning through my chest.

"Come on, Piper, quit spacing out." Haley pushes the drink a little closer when I don't reach for it. Her eyes are already starting to well up, like me saying no would be some kind of personal attack on her. "I know I'm not great at stuff like this, but I tried, okay? It's the least I could do."

I stare at her. A cold laugh slips out. "Not great at stuff like this?"

She blinks. Clearly not the reaction she expected. She starts to pull her hand back. "Piper, I just—"

I don't let her finish.

I swing my arm out and knock the drink clean out of her hand. It sails across the room and drops into the trash can in the corner, liquid splashing everywhere.

"If you're that clumsy, stop hovering around me." I look down at her. "I don't drink things I didn't pour myself."

Haley stares at the trash can. Then the tears come, her shoulders starting to shake.

"You could've just said no." Her voice cracks as she covers her face. "Why do you have to make me feel like garbage? I was only trying to help you..."

The locker room door slams open.

Grant strides in. The second he sees Haley crying, his expression shifts. He steps in front of her like she needs protecting and turns to look at me like I just kicked a puppy.

"Piper, what is wrong with you?" His voice is sharp, almost disgusted. "Haley does something nice and this is how you act? You couldn't even say thank you?"

The commotion draws people over. Teammates drift to the doorway, taking in Haley's breakdown, the drink pooled on the floor, and start murmuring among themselves.

"God, Piper's so extra. Haley was just trying to be nice."

"Seriously. Haley's always helping everyone out and this is what she gets? Having money doesn't make you better than people."

"She's Haley's sponsor and acts like that means she owns her. Typical."

The commentary keeps coming, and Haley leans into every word, clutching Grant's sleeve, voice wobbling just enough: "Grant, don't be too hard on her... honestly it's my fault. I didn't know she only drinks her own stuff. What I got wasn't good enough for her. I get it."