Perfect Snow (Seasons #1)

Chapter 11: Trains, Planes, and Goodbyes

Christmas comes and goes and neither of us calls or texts. Again.

I spend most of the week being extra crabby, loitering around the house. I have no desire to go out. My grandparents notice something is up, but don't pry too much. Grandma makes me waffles every morning, her way of making sure I'm okay.

I keep replaying the Christmas party and become increasingly bitter. She's moving to London and wasn't even planning on telling me.

Why should she? She owes you nothing.

The hurt boils over eventually and all I'm left with is sadness. I don't want her to go. I don't know how I'm supposed to move on. I don't even know when she's leaving. In a moment of panic, it occurs to me that she may be already gone and I didn't get to say goodbye.

I hear both Preston and Felicity's voice in my head. 

Make things right, Rhys. 

Just apologize, Rhys. 

You're being a dumbass, dumbass.

I wake up that Thursday and pick up my phone, find Melanie's contact and dial. I get her voicemail, of course, because why would she want to hear my voice?

Can we talk? I text.

Please?

Melanie?

Call me when you get a chance.

I don't want to leave things as we left them the other night.

No response.

I send one more for good measure. Call me. Please.

I find Felicity's name in my contacts next. Melanie's not answering my texts. Is she with you?

My phone buzzes a second later. I'm sorry, Rhys. I've been told to stay out of it.

A few minutes later, a second text. But we will be at the rink this afternoon if you want to come say hello.

Thank you! I send back.

Don't screw things up again, she warns.

I won't. I promise.

I breathe a sigh of relief. She's still here, and I have a chance at making things right. Sometimes I think, I'm so glad I'm lucky because I'm certainly not very smart about these things— "these things" being any and all things related to girls.

I find Mel in the same place I saw her that very first time at the ice rink. Fuzzy ear muffs peeking through her ruby hair, olive jacket. She is sitting in the same spot, too. She looks just like then, but different. So much more beautiful, now that I know her.

Felicity's team are practicing on the ice, and a group of people mills about the entrance to the lodge, keeping the door open. The smell of baked goods and warm coffee wafts over the air. It smells like second chances to me.

I slowly make my way to Mel and take a seat next to her, giving her some space. She looks at me with a guarded expression, which I can't fault her for. I've had more than one idiotic outburst since she's met me.

"I'm sorry," I say simply, meaning it. "I'm sad that you're leaving, and I didn't take it well when you told me. I'm sorry." When she doesn't say anything, I feel my throat closing up and I get up to leave.

"I don't want to fight," she says in a small voice. I turn around and look at her. She seems more fragile than ever.

"I don't either, but keeping me at arm's length is not the way to go," I say, sitting back down closer to her.