Breaking the Ice

two

Outside, it had started to drizzle, the light rain making the lights from nearby streetlamps hazy. I wandered through the empty parking lot, feeling the water wash away the smell of sex, trying to process the events leading up to that moment.

What the hell just happened?

Everything that night was a blur; I had seen the boy in the locker room, next thing I knew they were in the rink. We kissed, we fucked. He had laughed at my jokes, complimented my jacket...

And then I realized; I didn't have my jacket.

Letting out a frustrated groan, I plopped down on the curb and rested my head in my trembling hands. My ass was getting wet from sitting on the drenched concrete, but I couldn't find it in myself to care, even as the rain started to pick up.

I cringed at how pathetic I must have looked at that moment: covered in my own sweat and some other boy's drying cum, smelling like something between sex and regret, getting pelted by sheets of rain as I nearly had a panic attack outside of a skating center.

This was just fucking wonderful.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, quivering with my eyes squeezed shut, before I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked behind me to see Robert, who always looked happy and full of life. The look he wore as he looked at me, though, was one of concern. And rightfully so—I usually didn't look this shitty.

"Are ya' alright?" he questioned, taking a seat next to me. I shrugged in response, pressing my lips into a thin line.

"Could be better," I managed nonchalantly, relaxing slightly as Robert squeezed my shoulder in reassurance.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I shook my head at the proposal, and the old man hummed in response. "If you ever need to, I'm always here to listen, you hear?"

I nodded, prompting Robert to give me a firm pat on the back and stand up. I watched the man walk back and lock the doors of the center with the keyring I had brought to the locker room earlier that night. I swallowed hard at the sight, trying to school my expression before he turned back to look at me again. "You have a way to get home?"

"Yeah," I sighed, standing. I shivered at the dampness of my jeans. "I drove. Thank you, though."

Robert smiled, waving goodbye as he wandered into the nearly empty parking lot and climbed into one of the nearby vehicles; a red, beat-up Jeep. It pulled out of its spot and drove off into the thinning nighttime traffic, disappearing into the darkness.

Robert was practically a second father to me. Having grown up as my mother's best friend, he was a part of our family. Granted, my father really didn't like him, but my mom wasn't one to take shit from Dad and kept Robert close.

Exhaling softly, I shoved my hands into my pockets and began the trek to my car. I had managed to more or less compose my thoughts, at least well enough to drive through the heavily populated streets of Atlanta without crashing. By now, night had fallen and the lot was dark, save for the occasional fuzzy glow of a streetlamp. The rain had also ceased, leaving nothing but a few puddles and that familiar damp smell lingering in the humid air.

Finally arriving at my car—a silver, hand-me-down sedan—I slid into the driver's seat. A twinge of guilt touched my mind as I remembered the boy I had left in the backseat of his own car, looking completely and utterly distraught. I quickly purged the thoughts from my head, however, pulling a little tin of lemon-flavored, homeopathic anxiety tablets from the center console and popping one into my mouth.

Letting the medicine dissolve on my tongue, I pulled the shift into drive. I was still pretty new to driving, having only received my car for my 18th birthday a few months back, and nighttime plus slick roads plus distractions was not a good mix. Best to leave the thinking for when I could afford a fuck-up or two.