Chapter 7 - Are we good now?
1262 Words
Bexley’s P.O.V.
We walk silently until we reached the soccer field.
I didn’t think this through. I asked her to talk, but I don't even know where to start.
“Humm, does… your arms hurt a lot?”
I want to facepalm my head at my stupid question.
Why am I being so awkward?
“A little. They did prescribe something for the pain though, but it still acks depending on how I move.” She says, slightly moving her arm.
“Oh, that's good.”
She c***s an eyebrow, looking at me with an ‘are you serious’ look.
“I mean, it sucks that it hurt, but it’s good they gave you something for it!” I clarify.
She nods and looks around the field.
“Do you play?”
“Play what?”
“Soccer.”
“No. Sports with a ball isn’t really my thing.”
“Right. I should have known that. Especially with the way you skate. You must have strained a lot to be at that level. How long have you been skating?”
“Ever since I can remember,” She answered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the most beautiful smile plastered on her lips.
She looks stunning.
The twinkle in her eyes tells me she really does love to skate. It isn’t something that was pushed on her.
Good!
“Do you play? Soccer, I mean.” She asks, looking at me shily.
“I do, but only for fun during the summer.”
A comfortable silence falls between us.
There’s so much I want to tell her. To apologize for. I’ve been such an ass to her.
“Look,”
“I’m,”
We both try to speak at the same time, and both burst out laughing.
“Ladies first,” I say, gesturing my hand forward.
“Such a gentleman,” She mocks.
“I can be. When I don't let my petty ass self surface.” I answer, looking down at my feet.
“I’m really sorry for being such a b***h at the ice rink the first time we met. I’ve had a lot going on in the past year. I’m still working some stuff out, but it doesn’t give me the right to act the way I did either,” She says, still looking ahead on the field.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you the way I did. I’m not usually like that. But at the rink, when I see someone putting themselves in harm's way, I don’t know. Something takes over my conscience and I kind of lose it.”
I can see her eyes unfocused with what seems to be many questions swirling around in her mind.
“What happened before to make you that way?” She asks after a few minutes.
“Why do you think something happened before?” I say defensively.
“It’s just a hunch, and part of past experience that tells me something did,” She says, finally looking at me with a softness in her eyes that make my heart tightens.
I fumble with my hands, trying to find the right words. When I asked her to talk, I never imagined I would be opening up about my past. About why I am the way I am on the ice. But here I am, opening up to someone I just met. Who knew I would even want to open up about my past?
“My father died on the ice. And I guess it left a mark on me. It was only a few years ago, but it still hurts to remember. I saw him fall while competing with my mother. They rushed him to the hospital, but it wasn’t fast enough, I guess,”
“Oh, good gosh!” She exclaims, placing a hand on top of mine. “I’m so sorry. That’s such a horrible thing to see happen!”
“Yeah. It was. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I don't usually like to talk about this. Not even with Oliver.”
“I can only imagine how hurt and powerless you must have felt at that moment.”
“Yeah,”
“What was his name?”
His name… I rarely say it. Even to myself.
“Jackson. Jackson Ford.”
The look of shock on her face doesn’t surprise me.
“A-Are you telling me, you’re the son of Ali and Jackson Ford?! The famous ice-skating duo?!” She gasps, holding my hand tighter.
I nod with a small smile. Her expression is kind of cute.
Wait, cute?! What the hell am I thinking?!
I shake my head, trying not to turn bright red.
“No wonder you’re so good on the ice!” She exclaims, laughing out loud.
Her laugh is infectious.
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. I would even say, you’re better than my mother. But don’t tell her I said so!”
She laughs again, her head falling backward.
“I promise I won’t tell,” She says, wiping her tears of laughter.
For some reason, seeing her smile and laugh this way, makes my chest all warm.
“How about you, who thought you how to skate this well?”
Her smile falls and her shoulders stiffen up. All and every small speck of happiness gone in a flash.
“Is everything alright? Did I say something wrong?” I ask nervously, a deep frown etched on my brow.
“I-It’s nothing. We should head back inside. The bell will ring soon,” She says, getting up and walking away.
“Wait, hold on. What just happened?”
“It’s nothing. Don't worry about it. We should get back to class.” She says, brushing me off.
“That was not nothing. You looked like you’d seen a ghost of something.”
“Just drop it, Bexley,”
I’m about to ask again, but she cut me off with her uninjured hand up.
“Please?” She pleads, her eyes welling up in tears.
What the hell have I said wrong to upset her this much?
I follow close behind her on our way in, we cross paths with Oliver, who’s looking at me with so much anger.
“What did you do to her?” He says, blocking my path.
“The hell are you talking about? I try to pass by him but he blocks my way again.
“I just saw Janelle walking by with tears in her eyes. I don’t think it’s a coincidence you’re following so close behind. What did you do to her?”
“Are you for real right now? You know me better than that. At least I thought you did. But if you think, even for a second that I would hurt her, your an even bigger asshole than I am,” I scoff, shoving him with my shoulder hard as I push my way.
“I better not see you make her cry again!” He yells after me.
I turn around and walk back to mere inches from him.
“Don’t you dare accuse me of this. I didn’t make her cry!”
At least I don’t think I did.
“And why are you acting like this? Why are you accusing me of something, over a girl you just met?” I ask, really curious about his answer.
“Whatever.” He mumbles before walking away.
Seriously, what’s his problem? We’ve never fought like this.
- Writer
