Been You

Chapter 10: Skate With Me

JUSTIN'S POV:

At the ice rink, my favorite place on campus, I'm kneeling in front of Ely - my favorite person on campus - lacing up her skates. Of all the things I could be doing while kneeling in front of her, this is probably the least excited, but I can't deny that there's still a huge smile on my face. I get to enjoy my two favorite things - Ely and skating - at the same damn time. I can't wait. "Ouch," Ely winces as I tighten the laces on her skates. "I think they're tight enough, J!"

"They're not," I assure, tightening again. "If they're two loose, three things are sure to happen.  One: your feet will rub up against the material, giving you cuts and blisters. Two: you won't be able to balance yourself, causing you to fall. Three: you will definitely fall on your face, causing me to definitely laugh at you," I explain, to distract her from my tightening. It works too, because during my explanation, she hasn't winced once. I'm just that good. "All done!" I say, slapping the side of her skate. "Let's get out on the ice!"

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea?" she says, her chocolate brown eyes filled with fear. I sit next to her so that our faces are an inch apart, staring deep into her eyes.

"I will catch you if you fall," I reassure, rubbing her shoulder. She nods in response, so I lead her out onto the ice. She's already shivering, even though she's wearing both her jacket and mine. God, she's so cute. The tip of her nose is red from the cold. I'm fighting every urge I have to kiss it. I grab her hand to steady her, while her other hand grasps the wall for dear life. Not exactly perfect form, but at least I got her out here, right? I skate alongside her, going at her glacial pace, while she still keeps one hand on the wall. I gradually increase my speed, as she gets more comfortable on the ice. She starts beaming at me, proud of the strides she's made. Her smile is breathtaking. She begins to let go of the wall, still holding onto my hand with the grip of a newborn baby. I pull her away from the wall a bit. She looks nervous, but she comes along anyway. She starts gaining confidence, her strides getting riskier, making me nervous. I start to prepare to catch her right when she starts slipping. Fortunately it's taking her forever to fall, like a baby gazelle just learning to walk. This allows me enough time to reach out to grab her waist to steady her. She looks up at me, a look I can't explain on her face. Her huge brown eyes staring right up at me. She leans in, until I can feel her cold breath on my skin.

"I wanna be more than best friends," she says breathlessly. She wants to be more than best friends. She wants to be more than best friends. SHE WANTS TO BE MORE THAN BEST FRIENDS. My mind is racing with euphoria, but I can't get my body to move. She looks up at me, her eyes filling with worry, then tears. I'm still saying nothing; doing nothing. She tries to skate toward the exit, stumbling, then falling. She continues to crawl away, crying. I will myself to go after her, to tell her how I feel. It's no use. Why do I always have to fuck up any and every good thing? I get exactly what I want, and what do I do? I let it walk - or crawl - right out the door. I don't think I've ever hated myself more than I do in this moment.

I don't know how long I've been standing here on the ice, but I know that it must be 4 pm now, because I hear all the guys coming in for practice. They all come onto the ice, full with an excitement for the sport that I wish I could feel right now. Some of the guys that live in the hockey house with me approach me.

"Hey, Just, haven't seen you since Friday night," Chaz, the goalie, says to me with a smirk. I wish they'd all leave me alone.

"Yeah, I think he was a little busy," Christian says, arching an eyebrow.

"A little? Bro, he had that bitch screaming all day and all night. Oh Justin, fuck me! Fuck me harder, oh my god," Ryan, our left wing, says. I don't know what pisses me off more: Ryan calling the girl I love a bitch, the invasion of privacy, or the reminder of what I just lost. But I do know that the combination of the three send me over the edge. My face goes hot with anger, my hands ball up into fists by my sides. Before my mind can even catch up, my fist lands dead center in Ryan's face, knocking him out cold. I hear Christian and the others asking what the fuck has gotten into me, but I am truly not in a place where I can handle this. I skate off the ice, rip off my skates, slide on my shoes, and start running.