Chapitre 2: Ice Rink

Chapter 2: Ice Rink

As the eventful day came to an end, Hope walked out of the school building, breathing in the crisp, fresh air. It felt liberating to take a break from the never-ending supernatural chaos. For the first time in a long while, she felt free, like a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Back in Mystic Falls, she had barely a moment to herself. The responsibility of being the most powerful being, constantly caught in the whirlwind of supernatural conflicts, had been suffocating. She once embraced her role as the powerful tribrid, but over time, she lost herself in it. Her past life had become a distant memory, fading away as she immersed herself in becoming the Hope everyone expected—the savior, the hero, the one who always did the right thing.

But in the process, she had forgotten who she truly was. The self-assured, plot-changing transmigrator she once was had been replaced by a girl who tried too hard to please everyone, losing her own identity. The Hope Mikaelson who saved the day was all she knew how to be, but deep down, she was just a lost soul with no tragic backstory to tell—only the fear and loneliness of not truly belonging.

So, when she found herself in this new place, in a whole other universe where no one knew Hope Andrea Mikaelson, she felt an odd sense of relief. This was her chance to start over, to reclaim herself. No one here would question if she acted differently. This was a blank slate, an opportunity to be whoever she wanted to be.

But reality hit hard as she stood in the school parking lot, watching everyone else drive off to their homes. Where do I start now? she wondered. I don't have money. I don't have a home. I can't even compel anyone because I'm not a vampire yet. Her brief smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She realized she hadn't even carried a backpack all day, and no one had bothered to ask why. She just showed up at school like she had always been there. How oblivious are these people?

"If 'ignorance is bliss' was a town, it would definitely be Beacon Hills," she muttered to herself. "Well, shit!" She groaned in frustration, kicking at the air in annoyance. Lost in her thoughts, she had no idea someone had been watching her from afar.

Stiles Stilinski sat in his beat-up old Jeep, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observed the new girl. He had noticed Hope earlier today, walking around with that air of mystery. She was intriguing, to say the least. Now, seeing her talking to herself and kicking the air, he decided it was the perfect time to introduce himself.

Jumping out of his Jeep, Stiles approached her with his usual mix of curiosity and enthusiasm. But before he could say a word, Hope turned around, letting out a startled scream.

"AHHH!"

"AHHH!" Stiles screamed back just as loudly, throwing his hands up in panic.

"Where's the liver-eating lizard?!" he shouted, looking around wildly, half-expecting some supernatural creature to pop out of nowhere.

Hope blinked at him, utterly confused. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, her embarrassment clear as her cheeks flushed pink. Great. The most powerful being, scared of a high schooler. How embarrassing.

"Jesus Christ, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" Stiles said, holding his chest, panting.

Hope narrowed her eyes. "You're the one sneaking up on people, Sherlock!"

Stiles put his hands up in surrender, trying to catch his breath. "Okay, okay! Fair point. But seriously, what are you doing out here all by yourself? You look like you're about to challenge the air to a fistfight."

"I'm… thinking," Hope crossed her arms, trying to regain some dignity.

Stiles tilted his head, intrigued. "About? World domination? Solving world hunger? The square root of—"

"Where I'm going to sleep tonight, actually," Hope said, cutting him off.

Stiles blinked, the playful smile fading from his face. "Wait, seriously? Like... you don't have a place to stay?"

Hope shrugged, deciding to stick to her story. "I ran away from home. Needed a fresh start, I guess," she lied smoothly. She couldn't tell him the truth, not yet.

"Oh, uh, yeah, okay... totally get that. Everyone needs a change of scenery sometimes, right? You just... up and left, though? No plan, no place to crash?" Stiles chuckled awkwardly.

"Nope. No plan, no place. Just me and the open road... and, well, Beacon Hills now." Hope nodded.

Stiles' eyes widened. He was clearly trying to think of something helpful to say, but it was like watching a hamster running on a wheel in his brain. Finally, he snapped his fingers.

"You know, it's funny you say that because—uh, well, not funny ha-ha, but like... funny in a weird, fate kind of way. I was actually heading to the ice rink. We're doing this thing—well, it's not really a 'thing,' more like... okay, it's definitely a thing. And you could totally come, if you want! I mean, you probably don't, but if you do... you could. Come, that is."

Hope blinked at him, trying to follow his rambling train of thought.

"So, let me get this straight. You're inviting a girl who just admitted she's homeless to... an ice rink?" Hope raised an eyebrow.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds weird, but yeah! I mean, not because you're homeless! But because... I don't know, it could be fun? And after that, maybe we could figure out something more permanent. Like, I don't know... a roof over your head? Maybe some food? I've got snacks. So many snacks." Stiles got flustered.

Hope couldn't help but laugh. It was the most genuine laugh she'd had in ages.

"Are you seriously offering a homeless girl snacks and a place to crash after just meeting her?"

Stiles grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Well, when you put it like that, I sound like a really bad kidnapper. But yes. I am. I have a spare bed, and my dad's never home, so you could... I don't know... not sleep on the streets?"

Hope stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. This guy was either the most naive person she'd ever met or the kindest. Maybe a mix of both.

"If I find out you're secretly a serial killer, I'll make sure it's the last mistake you ever make, Stilinski," Hope said in mock seriousness.

"Duly noted. I promise, zero serial-killing tendencies here. Just an unhealthy obsession with crime shows." Stiles raised his hand in surrender.

Hope finally relented, sighing dramatically. "Fine. I'll take you up on your ice rink offer. But only because I want to see what kind of snacks you're hiding in that Jeep."

Stiles grinned ear to ear, practically bouncing on his toes. "Yes! Awesome! I promise you won't regret it. Unless you hate ice skating, in which case... you might regret it a little."

Hope shrugged. "I'm a quick learner. Lead the way, Stilinski."

As they both walked toward the Jeep, Hope couldn't help but feel like maybe, just maybe, this weird, quirky town was exactly what she needed. At least for now.

"Great!" Stiles exclaimed, looking like he'd just won the lottery. "Hop in! You can meet Scott, Allison, and Lydia. Trust me, they're much cooler than I am."

Hope gave him a skeptical look as she climbed into the passenger seat of his Jeep. "That's not a high bar to clear."

"Ouch, that one stings," Stiles replied, clutching his chest dramatically before hopping into the driver's seat.

As they drove off toward the ice rink, Hope stared out the window, a small smile playing at her lips. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't thinking about saving the world or being someone she wasn't. Here, she was just Hope—no titles, no expectations, just a girl trying to find her place in a strange new world.

And maybe, just maybe, she was okay with that.

------

Stiles drove them to the ice rink, chatting animatedly while Hope listened, occasionally throwing in her dry, sarcastic remarks. He kept stealing glances at her, trying to figure out this mysterious girl who had suddenly appeared in their lives. Stiles was a known chatterbox, especially when he was nervous, but something about Hope's calm, collected demeanor only made him ramble more.

"So, ice skating, huh?" Hope asked, watching the small town of Beacon Hills blur past the window. "That's what you guys do for fun around here?"

Stiles shrugged, one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving animatedly. "Well, it's either that or, you know, running from werewolves, liver-eating lizards, and general doom and gloom. Ice skating seemed like the safer option."

"Safer?" Hope arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a teasing smirk. "You do realize people break bones skating all the time, right?"

"Yeah, but at least they don't break because something's actively trying to eat you," Stiles shot back with a grin, feeling a small victory when she chuckled softly.

Hope shook her head, turning back to the window with an amused expression. "Fair point, Stilinski. Fair point."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, one that Stiles felt the need to fill. "You never told me what you are," he ventured, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Her lips quirked upward as she turned to face him. "That's for me to know and for you to... dot, dot, dot." The corner of her mouth lifted higher, and Stiles couldn't help but laugh.

'Wow, did I seriously just shamelessly stole Damon Salvatore's quote?'

'Guilty as charged,' she thought in her mind. Well he doesn't exist here, so no one can sue me.

As they pulled into the parking lot, Stiles spotted Scott, Allison, and Lydia waiting near the entrance. Scott waved them over with his usual friendly smile, while Lydia sized Hope up with her usual scrutinizing gaze.

Stiles hopped out of the Jeep and rushed over, gesturing wildly. "Hey, guys! So, this is Hope. She's, uh, new in town. Obviously."

Scott offered his signature warm grin. "Hey, we meet again. This is Allison." He gestured to the brunette beside him.

Allison gave a friendly smile, while Lydia's eyes narrowed slightly. "And I'm Lydia," she introduced herself, her tone carrying the confidence of someone who always owned the room.

"Hope Mikaelson," Hope said smoothly, her tone casual but her gaze steady. "Nice to meet you all. Hope I'm not intruding."

Lydia tilted her head, intrigued by Hope's cool composure. "Mikaelson, huh? That's... an interesting name."

Hope shrugged. "Yeah, it comes with a lot of baggage. But hey, who doesn't love a little drama, right?"

Stiles let out a nervous laugh, jumping in to diffuse the tension. "Okay, so, ice skating! Let's get moving before we all turn into popsicles."

As they headed inside, Stiles couldn't help but notice Lydia's curious glances at Hope. It stirred something uncomfortable in his chest—jealousy, maybe, or just the feeling of not quite understanding this enigmatic new girl. Either way, his attention kept drifting back to her, like she was some puzzle he was determined to solve.

The ice rink was blissfully empty, giving them the run of the place. Scott and Allison quickly laced up their skates, looking like the picture-perfect couple as they helped each other.

"It's freezing in here," Lydia muttered as she tied her skates. Stiles rummaged through his bag, pulling out an obnoxiously bright orange jacket, while Hope casually pulled out her sleek black one.

Lydia eyed them both and, without hesitation, reached for Hope's jacket. "I'm wearing blue. Orange and blue? Horrific combo. Thanks, Hope," she said, sliding the black jacket on.

"But it's the color of the Mets!" Stiles protested, earning a dismissive look from Lydia.

Before he could put his jacket away, Hope snatched it from his hands. "I'll take this, then," she said, slipping it on. The oversized jacket looked surprisingly good on her, the vibrant color contrasting with her cool demeanor. Lydia nodded approvingly, clearly warming up to the newcomer.

Stiles blinked, momentarily speechless. "Okay, maybe orange and blue isn't the best combo," he muttered, fumbling to change the subject. "But you know, sometimes there are unexpected combinations that just... work. Like... two people who nobody ever thought would make sense together."

Hope's eyes flickered with something he couldn't quite decipher, her gaze lingering on Scott and Allison before shifting back to him. "You're right," she said softly. "They do look pretty perfect together." But her eyes seemed to hold a deeper meaning as they locked onto his, and Stiles felt his breath hitch for a moment.

Lydia chose that moment to glide effortlessly onto the ice, her movements fluid and graceful, like she was born to skate.

Stiles, on the other hand, was having a minor crisis, wobbling as he tried to balance. "Why do I feel like Bambi every time I do this?" he grumbled.

Hope watched him struggle, a teasing smile playing at her lips. "Need some help there, Bambi?"

"Ha ha," Stiles deadpanned, trying to glare but failing miserably as he nearly toppled over. "Laugh it up, Mikaelson. We'll see who's laughing when I'm gliding across this ice like a pro."

"You mean when you're face-planting?" she shot back, eyes gleaming with amusement.

Stiles was about to retort when she effortlessly stepped onto the ice, moving with a grace that left him momentarily speechless. "Okay, seriously, how are you so good at this?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Hope just gave him a mysterious smile. "Let's just say I've had a lot of practice," she said, skating circles around him.

Determined not to be outdone, Stiles made a valiant effort to follow her, only to slip and nearly fall. Hope caught his arm just in time, steadying him with surprising strength.

"Thanks," he muttered, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding.

"Careful, Stilinski," she teased, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Wouldn't want to break that pretty face of yours."

Stiles blinked, thrown off by the unexpected flirtation, and nearly fell over again. Hope just laughed, a sound that was as rare as it was disarming.

Scott and Allison skated up to them, Scott trying and failing to hide his grin. "You okay there, buddy?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic," Stiles replied sarcastically. "Just call me the ice-skating ninja."

Hope rolled her eyes. "More like the ice-skating disaster," she quipped.

Stiles shot her a mock glare but couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe," she said with a playful smirk. "But I have to admit, you're fun to watch."

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and banter, Scott and Allison in their own little world, while Lydia skated with effortless grace. Stiles found himself gravitating toward Hope, drawn in by her quick wit and enigmatic aura.

"So, seriously," he asked as they took a break, "where'd you learn to skate like that?"

She gave him a sidelong glance, her eyes glimmering with secrets. "You pick up a few things when you've been around as long as I have."

"Been around, huh?" Stiles pressed, leaning in slightly. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"Maybe," Hope replied, her tone inviting him to keep guessing. "But you'll have to figure it out on your own."

Stiles grinned. "I love a good mystery," he said, holding her gaze a moment longer than necessary.

Just then, a sudden scream cut through the air, and they turned to see Lydia clutching her head, crying out in agony. Hope was the first to reach her, wrapping her arms around Lydia and whispering something under her breath. Instantly, Lydia quieted down, her breathing evening out.

Stiles watched in awe, confusion, and curiosity warring within him. But there would be time for questions later. Right now, all he knew was that Hope Mikaelson was definitely not what she seemed—and he couldn't wait to unravel every secret she was hiding.

As they headed out, tired but satisfied, Stiles couldn't help but feel like his world had just been turned upside down. And something told him, with Hope Mikaelson around, things were only going to get more interesting.