I was confused.
Not only because Weston was driving me, God knows where, and because I just went for it without thinking or discussing it. I was sitting in the car with him, even though I swore I would never do that again.
That worked out well.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Not really, but do I have a choice?’ I said nervously.
Weston pulled out of the driveway, and silence spread between us. That rule may have applied, that I would never get in his car again before what happened last night.
I didn’t know what happened inside me when we were both in that little storage room, and he started touching me.
I didn’t even want to remember it, let alone think about it because I wouldn’t have an answer.
It may be time to admit some things to myself. The route we were taking looked familiar. ‘Are you going to tell me why we’re going to college?’
‘I want to show you something.’
‘We’ll find that on campus?’ I asked him, confused.
‘Trust me, Hazel Bug,’ he said these words with such ease, and without hesitation I had the feeling that I could trust him.
Most of the time, we were both arguing, but now in the car, we were just silent and had nothing to talk about.
I didn’t quite know what to say either.
I was uncomfortable too because I was sure he could still remember exactly what happened at the party.
Since then, I tried to tell myself that I wouldn’t say I liked how Weston touched me, but I had to focus on that flirting and making out was a big part of his character.
None of what happened meant anything.
I didn’t even know where the thought came from that I suddenly got so involved with him, and that hate exploded like a rocket and left beautiful sparks.
Weston was the kind of guy that, no matter what state he was in, he knew exactly what he was doing and how easily he could influence someone. He had so much power, and I fell for it.
I got out of his jeep and walked around his car. ‘Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?’
‘Stop being so nosy. It’s annoying.’ Weston got his gym bag from the trunk and locked the car with his car key.
I became more aware of what we would do as he approached the ice arena. We were walking past the main entrance, but this building had a side entrance that was not visible from a distance because of the high bushes.
Suddenly he stopped, and I almost bumped into his back as I tried not to step into one of the potholes in the ground.
We stood before a tall, old wire fence where Weston bent some fences to the side and ran through a hole.
‘Weston, what is this going to be?’
‘Wait, and stop asking so many questions.’
Never in my life would I have thought that on Saturday night, after a Halloween party in the middle of campus, I would walk between bushes and trees through a broken fence to get to the ice arena.
He held out his hand, which I grabbed, and stepped through the hole in the wire fence.
We arrived at the door, which had just been reinstalled.
‘Sorry,’ he abruptly let go of my hand and ran it through his hair before bending down and pulling a key out from under one of the bricks to unlock it.
What were we doing here?
I couldn’t even get the words out because I was so overwhelmed by this situation, and I was questioning all the negative thoughts and feelings toward him right now.
If I think he was so bad, why was I here?
We entered the arena, and were in a dark hallway until Weston turned on his flashlight on his phone, and I followed him until we were standing in the locker room.
‘Can you skate?’ He closed the locker room door and flooded the dark room with light, which he turned on.
‘You’re not serious?’
‘Don’t ask a question in return. Can you skate?’ he repeated, setting down the gym bag where he pulled out skates.
‘I think so,’ I answered hesitantly as I spun around in the locker room and looked around.
Somehow, it all looked so powerful.
The team name with two devil horns was painted in big letters on one wall, just like on the rubberized floor. Team pictures over several years decorated the wall next to the door. Above the shelves of each hockey player ran a strand of light, glowing in the team colors of dark blue and red.
In the locker room, each player had a shelf with the team logo, player number, and last name. On the shelves, the jerseys hung perfectly on a hanger, and helmets, skates, and other things. The hockey sticks hung on the wall next to the door, which probably led to the arena proper.
I turned to Weston, sitting on the bench, tying his skate tightly.
‘Sit down,’ he stood up and strutted his skates across the rubberized floor, rummaging around in the gym bag he had brought.
‘I don’t know if they fit you.’ Weston held the skates out to me.
‘We’re not even supposed to be here.’
‘Who said that? I don’t see the problem,’ he said sternly, and I already had the images of us sitting with the principal because we got caught in my mind’s eye.
I realized what Weston was up to, but I was annoyed that he didn’t say why we were there.
I slipped into the skates, which fit, but I didn’t have the strength to lace them up as tight as he had laced them up.
‘Can you please help me?’ I looked up at Weston, who was looking at my helpless expression.
He got down on one knee in front of me and pulled the laces of the skates as tight as he could so that they almost pressed against my feet.
I watched him tighten the laces with his fingers and then tie a bow. His hands were adorned with visible veins, and I think I’ve never seen anything more attractive hands.
Suddenly I wanted him to touch me again, as he did yesterday. Whispering things in my ears that I like to hear from his mouth.
We left the locker room through another door and walked down a narrow hallway until we stood in the arena. To the left and right were the bleachers, which were usually full, and in front of us was the ice rink, typically full of hockey players.
This arena looked so huge from this perspective, even though every single seat was free and so quiet.
Just Weston and me.
‘Do you trust me?’
‘Yes.’
With such assurance, Weston walked out onto the ice and held his hand out to me as I carefully stepped onto the ice after him.
The last time I stepped onto the ice was last winter when I was skating with a friend from my high school in front of Rockefeller Center.
It felt wobbly initially, but as Weston held my other hand, skated backward, and pulled me along, it got better by the minute.
For a few minutes, we skated across the ice, and over time I got a feel for the ice until he let go of me, and I slid across the ice on my own.
We stood in the middle of the ice, and I was overcome with a feeling I couldn’t describe. The arena already looked powerful when we were at the exit where the players entered the arena but standing here, in the middle of this arena, was something else again.
It all looked so much bigger.
Weston skated around me until he braked his skates, and some powdery ice flew across the slick ice surface.
‘Are you going to tell me why you brought me here?’ I looked up at him.
‘I want to show you that it’s okay to be afraid but that you can manage to do what you love with that feeling of fear,’ he explained.
‘What is this, Weston?’
I thought and hoped that the subject was over after he apologized.
‘Everyone has fears, including me.’
‘Not getting a girl or what?’ I said flippantly, giving my arms away in front of my chest.
I didn’t want to talk about this.
‘Stop saying something like that, and listen to me.’
Weston stepped closer to me. ‘My Mom was always the one who supported me. She was at every game, and then my parents divorced, and she left town from one day to the next,’ he explained calmly.
I always wondered what happened to his mother.
„A huge part of me broke away that day when she left Eastburgh. I swore I would never go on the ice again because I knew I would be alone. I tried to make my Dad proud. Helping him at the construction company, hoping he’d come to one of my games. Nothing. Not once did that fucker show up,’ he continued.
Ever since I knew Weston, I had never felt like he was as honest with me as he was now and last night when he apologized to me.
‘I started helping out in a diner because I didn’t have the money for my equipment, and when I got hit in the face with a hockey stick at an away game,’ Weston pointed his finger to his left eyebrow where the scar was still visible, ‘it didn’t even occur to my Dad to pick me up from the hospital. They stitched it up during the game, then I went back out on the ice, where it popped again, and I had to go to the hospital. Carter, Charles, and Henry were the ones who picked me up.’
I looked a little longer at the scar, which I had never noticed.
‘Why are you telling me all this?’ I asked cautiously.
‘I’m telling you that it’s okay to be scared. I’m scared that my Dad will never accept that I’ll never take over the family business, and I already know he will make my life hell, but I’ve learned to keep playing with that fear.’
I chewed on my bottom lip because I was getting nervous. I looked down at the skates because I didn’t want to show him he was right. It might work to deal with the fear and not give that feeling more power.
‘But what if it doesn’t work for me?’ I asked Weston, looking up at him.
‘No matter what you’re afraid of, you can manage not to give that fear power, Luna. I know that.’
Nervousness spread across my face, and I felt my whole body shake. My thoughts were spinning, and everything felt so heavy, but it didn’t even occur to me to escape from this situation. To press the emergency button that I usually press internally.
I wanted to stay right here.
He made me feel like it was okay to be scared.
To be so afraid of something.
‘I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve tried, and it doesn’t get better,’ I explained to him what thoughts were buzzing around in my head.
All the connections around my fear kept jerking me back to the past.
‘Luna, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared.’
I don’t know how or even why, but Weston understood me without knowing what the reason for my fear of deep water was.
‘But—’ I started to say.
He snorted. ‘Oh fuck it.’
Weston took my face between his hands and, without hesitation, pressed his lips to mine.
I didn’t know exactly what was happening here, but when I separated our lips for a moment to make sure what was happening here between Weston and me right now, I pressed my lips on his again, which was the most beautiful feeling.
That tingle on my lips, that closeness of our bodies, his hands on my cheeks.
I thought my cheeks were about to catch fire because they were glowing under his palms.
Our lips moved perfectly to each other.
Every thought exploded in my head, and I thought of so many things and nothing simultaneously. As the kiss intensified, I couldn’t even describe what was happening inside me.
Weston allowed himself entry with his tongue between my lips, and internally a ball knotted in my stomach, which was about to explode and send butterflies through every vein and fiber of my body.
