Would you have?
1683 Words
Bexley’s P.O.V.
How can I miss her so much? I saw her this morning. And it’s not like we have a different schedule from before.
But I still am.
I’m whipped. I am so whipped already!
Classes can’t be done fast enough. Finally, it’s third period and I’ll see Janelle. As promised, I saved her a seat next to me.
Seeing her walk in only a few minutes after me, lightens my heart. But only for a split second.
I frown, seeing the scowl on her face.
She sits down with a loud exhale.
“Is everything alright, Janelle?” I ask, placing my hand on her arm.
“Everything's fine,” She says with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen her make.
I stare at her intensely until she drops that smile and lets out a deep sigh.
“It’s nothing too serious. I just had the weirdest talk with Oliver, that’s all.”
What did that jackass do now?
He’s been so weird ever since Janelle started school here. I wish I could understand what’s going through his head.
“What did he do?” I ask, trying my best not to sound angry.
“He didn’t do anything, really. It’s more what he said.” She says, exhaling deeply again.
I wait a moment, thinking she’ll elaborate, but she only picks at her fingernails.
“Janelle… Please tell me what he said to you.” I insist, taking her hand in mine, stopping her picking.
“I don’t know. It was weird. He seemed angry when I told him that we had started dating. Well, it was more him prying when he asked me why you kissed me in the hallway earlier.”
Why would Oliver care if I were kissing Janelle? And why would he be questioning her about it? It doesn’t make any sense.
I’m definitely missing something.
“It is kind of weird. I really don’t get him.” I say, shaking my head as the teacher walks in.
“I don’t get it either, but you know what, he doesn’t get to tell you what to do or who you decide to be with, to date or not date. It’s your decision and yours alone!”
She smiles, looking at me with an almost twinkle in her eyes.
“What?”
“You just said the right thing at the right time, that’s all,”
I look at her questioningly, but the teacher walks in, and classes start.
By the end of the day, my frustration at Oliver is almost gone. Being with Janelle has that effect on me.
How could I stay mad and frustrated when she’s all smiles?
“Did you get a text from my uncle?” She asks when I join her at her locker.
“I haven’t checked my phone since lunchtime, hold on,”
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I see an unread text from coach Henley.
“I did, let me check.”
Coach H. - Meet at the rink as soon as you can after school.
“Well that isn’t cryptic at all,” I sigh, raising an eyebrow.
Looking at Janelle’s worried look, I place my hands on her shoulders.
“Hey, why are you so worried?”
“I don’t know. He never asked to meet him in this way. It’s weird.”
“I know what you mean. He’s never asked me like that either. I guess we'll see in a few minutes. Come on, I’ll drive us both to the rink.” I say, texting him that we’re on our way.
We drive in silence, neither one of us talking, too much into our own head. What could possibly be so pressing that he needs both of us straight after school?”
She lets out a huff as we park. Before stepping out of the car, I grab her hand and pull it up to my lips.
“I’m sure whatever he wants to talk to us about, isn't bad. So please, turn that frown upside down,” I say, kissing her knuckles gently, finally earning a shy smile. The first one since we left school.
She takes in a deep calming breath and we make our way inside. I’d be lying if I said I wans’t nervous at all, but I don’t want to worry Janelle either. I’m sure she’s stressing enough for the both of us.
“Hey Sam,” I greet, passing by the front desk. “Is Coach in his office?”
“Hey, kids. No. He’s waiting for you guys on the ice,”
“Really? Since when do we meet on the ice?”
“I don’t know, but that’s where he is. You should get going,” He says with his weird knowing smile again.
Seriously? I wish he would just say whatever it is he isn’t saying.
As we approach the ice, Coach Henley stays facing the rink.
“You two are probably wondering why I called you here?”
“Yeah… Why did you?” Janelle asks, warily.
Finally, he turns around, sporting a big smile, confusing me.
That text he sent sounded so serious, but he's smiling. What gives?
“First, I have a question for you, Janelle.”
She patiently waits for him to speak.
“Do you still love skating?”
“Yes…?”
“Are you asking me, or telling me you still do?
“Yes, I still love skating. Why?”
“Do you love it as much now as you did in your first competition?”
“Yes, why are you asking me this?”
“If you could remove last year's fiasco from existence, would you have given up skating competitively?”
Her breath hitches before she answers.
I really wish I knew what happened to her last year. I know something bad happened, I could see it in her eyes the first time I asked her about it in the bleachers.
She’s looking at her uncle, searching his eyes, searching herself for an answer.
I place my hand on her lower back, rubbing small circles with my thumb. I try my best to silently comfort her, and she visibly relaxes.
“No, I would never have stopped skating if that never happened to me.”
He smiles, nodding his head.
“And you,” he says, turning to me,” Would you have given up competing if it weren’t for what happened to your father?”
It’s my turn to gasp, not expecting him to bring up my father.
Janelle grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. She knows how much talking about my father can hurt, but she also knows he’s very important to me.
“It’s not what happened to him that made me stop skating,” I finally admit to him.
I had never told him the real reason why I stopped before. I didn’t want him to hound my mother in any way. That’s why I had lied and told him I hated competition but still wanted to skate at the rink and help out with the kids.
“I figured as much. You are not a good liar, you know” He smirk at my stunt expression.
“Why haven’t you ever called me out on it?”
“Because my assumption of the real reason wasn’t my place to confront. I knew you’d get angry if I had asked, and I knew you would have defended her. So, do you want to tell me the real reason, or do I keep speculating on that matter?”
He knew. All these years, he knew I was lying. I shake my head and exhale deeply.
“I couldn’t see the fear in my mother's eyes anymore. It hurt too much, and I knew it hurt her every time I competed. She tried to hide it, but not well enough, I guess. I always knew. Her eyes would be red-rimmed after every competition. I couldn’t do that to her anymore,” I say, choking on the resurfacing emotion from that time.
“If she hadn't been so upset then, would you have stopped competing?”
“But she was, and I did.”
“But if she hadn’t, would you have stopped?”
“It doesn’t matter the if, how or why!” I yell, my frustration rising.
“But it does matter,” a soft voice says from behind me.
“Mom?!” I exclaim, turning around.
She has a smile on her lips, but tears in her eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
“I called her. Asked her to be here to hear what you had to say,” Coach Henley states.
“You had no right!” I snap, turning to face him, my chest rising and falling with my quickening breaths.
“Yes, he did,” my mom said, making my eyes bulge out. “I asked myself so many times why you stopped skating. I knew you loved it just as much as your father and I did. I had a feeling it was because of me, but I blinded myself to it with my grief. I never wanted you to give up your passion. I should have asked you back then. I should have known better. I should have supported you better,” she said, her voice trembling with each word.
“Mom,” I whispered, letting go of Janelle’s hand and taking my mother into a tight hug.
After a few moments, Coach Henley clears his throat.
“Your mother and I have been talking, and I have been watching you two skate for a few weeks. You both still have the same passion as you did before you stopped competing. You are, even though it's been years, at a higher level than anyone I’ve seen in competition recently.”
“What are you saying, Uncle Henley?”
“I think you are both ready to get back into competition and be so far ahead to make it to the next Olympics.”
- Writer
