False Start (Love and Skate)

by Felix, Lila

  Hayes turned swiftly, and then broke out in a squeal and ran to hug a girl, who I assumed was Vera. Then she gave the man with her, Colt, I thought, a non-emotional side hug. She didn’t look too happy about even giving him that, but then conjured a smile when her face was back in view. She didn’t like him very much. Surely there was more to the story than just an over possessive husband. Introductions were made and handshakes were exchanged. And if I thought I was nervous before, I was out of my mind nervous then.

  “So, Rex, tell me why you think you even come close to deserving to date my best friend,” Vera blurted out.

  I squirmed. I should’ve known the date would be more than just viewing marine life.

  “I don’t.”

  “What,” Hayes squeaked out at me.

  “I—I don’t deserve someone like you. So there’s no point trying to prove a nonexistent point.” I shrugged trying to make the bastardly comment a little smoother to digest.

  “Don’t say that.” Hayes whispered to me. But it was true. I was one degree too scarred, one cut too jaded, one bruise too worn for a girl like her. Plus, I shouldn’t be leading her on. I didn’t believe in the lovey dovey shit. I didn’t.

  Who are you trying to convince, Rex?

  “Oh God, I think I’m gonna vomit,” Vera said, completing the drama with a finger down her throat.

  I shrugged, not knowing how to answer.

  “Can we just get this over with?” Colt said, speed walking ahead of us.

  “He’s pissed off. Just ignore him. Rex, since my husband’s in a hurry, can I talk to you alone for a second?”

  “Sure,” I answered and Hayes rolled her eyes and went ahead but away from Colt. I’d assumed they were all friends before this lovely double date.

  “So listen, I know she thinks you’re probably made of gold since you’re the only one who has made it to the second date, but she’s a fragile one. She doesn’t like to talk about the things in her past, so don’t even ask. And I’m assuming she asked you to her family dinner tomorrow?”

  I nodded. If this was the kind of friend Hayes had, I’d hate to see her enemies.

  “So her sister Hazel hates her, blames her for ruining her life back in high school. She will give you hell. If I were you, I would decline the invitation. Seriously, you can’t even tell me why you are dating Hayes, what are you gonna say to her Dad?”

  I shrugged again, but with just one shoulder, hoping to mask my insecurity under its one bounce.

  “Look, you seem like a decent guy. Say no to the dinner if you want to keep dating Hayes. If you’re already bored with her like the rest of them were then just go and wait for the train wreck.”

  Then she left me standing there while she caught up with her husband. She tried to weave her arm through his but he waved her off. In addition to my regular worries about my social deviancy, Vera had just added injury to insult. Letting my beard take the heat for my anxiety I stared at the shark, pretending to be interested while I thought it through. I could see Hayes down the way, doing the same thing, stealing glances my way every once in a while. I shoved my hands back in my pockets. That was it, my shot at the girl I’d longed for was over.

  I walked over to Hayes, gave her my best half-smile and we went through the rest of the aquarium in silence. I wondered if she knew what Vera was going to say to me. Maybe she was the one who made her say it, just wanting a different approach at getting rid of me. My brain and my heart were battling what to do next. As we approached the gift shop, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  “I’m sorry, it’s Falcon.”

  She motioned for me to take it. I answered and Falcon told me Reed was feeling better and we could come visit if we wanted to.

  “They said we could come visit the babies if we had time.”

  “Yeah,” she said looking at her watch. “I thought we’d be here a lot longer. It’s only one and Vera and Colt practically ran through the place after she told you whatever she told you.”

  “So you didn’t tell her to say those things?”

  “No, what did she say?”

  “Well, I think she has your best interest in mind.”

  Either that or she was a real B word that I tried never to use to describe women.

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just stop it. Whatever she said to you doesn’t matter. Can we just go back to how you were before?”

  “Back to the tunnel when I was overthinking holding your hand?”

  Hayes’ eyes turned a little brighter when she was happy. I’d seen it several times and at that point, her eyes put the entire aquarium to shame. Hell, they put the oceans themselves to shame.

  “What’s to overthink?”

  “My general lack of knowhow and awkwardness.”

  She massaged her bottom lip between her teeth. It was so easy to pretend she was warming them up for mine. And then I remembered I was too challenged to even hold her hand. I needed to grow a pair and quick.

  Then she reached out and made the decision for me. Her small, cold hand fit in mine perfectly and as she laced her fingers between my fingers I realized how strong that tiny hand was.

  “There—now there’s no more decision making.”

  If she only knew. One decision down, thirty thousand more to go.

  We got in my truck and headed over to Falcon and Reed’s house. I texted him, alerting him that we were in the driveway. He opened the door and waved us in. Opening Hayes’ door, I could see her smile already, waiting to see the babies.

  “Victory and Veyda, right?” She questioned me approaching the door.

  “Yeah, Victory is with the green eyes, Veyda is with the blue eyes.”

  “Got it.”

  We passed through the threshold and Falcon was holding the door open, ready to close it silently. Hayes magnetically went straight for the baby cradle, whatever it was called, and did a noiseless dance, excited to see them in person.

  “Can I hold one? Or both? Please?”

  Falcon chuckled, already used to the attention they got. “Of course.”

  She clapped, again without making a sound, “I’ve got to wash my hands. I don’t want to get my germs on them!”

  “Go in the hall, make a right, first door on the left.”

  “Yay!” she whisper squealed and ran from the room on her tiptoes.

  “Is Reed okay?” I asked Falcon. I didn’t understand how she’d gone from completely exhausted to fine with visitors in a matter of hours.

  “She’s resting now. We’ve made some changes today so she can get more rest.”

  “Like what?”

  “Come on, Rex. It involves boob milk. You really want to know?”

  “Nope—nevermind—I’m good.”

  He laughed, “Yeah.”

  Hayes came back in. I took a turn washing my hands after her. Hayes looked again for confirmation from Falcon who nodded to her in response. She lifted Victory fluidly and gracefully, no instructions needed. She held her head just like she was supposed to and then looked left and right for a chair to sit in. I waved her towards the couch for selfish reasons, simply because I wanted to be near her. She sat and for thirty minutes she cooed and slid a gentle finger along the baby’s forehead, the bridge of her nose, and she counted the dimples in the knuckles of her hand while Victory slept.

  “She’s gorgeous, Falcon.”

  “Thanks. We think they’re pretty damn great.”

  “If you want to go grab a shower or whatever, I’m fine here. I know the baby zombie look when I see it.”

  He smiled and now I wanted to see how she knew so much about babies.

  “I am gonna grab something to eat and check on Reed. Thank you.”

  She nodded, still locked on Victory’s face.

  “How do you know so much about babies?”

  “My sister Hazel was born when I was seven. My mom had another baby when I was fifteen, but she died in her crib when she
was eight months old from SIDS. But she was born on the last day of the ninth grade so I helped take care of her all summer.”

  Even in telling the story she never stopped stroking Victory’s fine hair.

  “What was her name?”

  She smiled at me, like I’d just asked the best question. “Harmony.”

  “All H’s.”

  “Yes and my mom is Hannah. Do you want to hold her while I get the other one?”

  I squirmed, dropping a baby on its head in front of the most perfect girl in the world wasn’t really my idea of a good time.

  “Of course you do.” She handed Victory over to me who started sucking on invisible bottles again.

  Minutes later she sat down with Veyda who wore an identical white one piece number with pink zebra print socks.

  “I love babies. There’s all that potential, you know? They don’t worry about anything other than eating and sleeping. They have their whole lives ahead of them. No one’s lives to mess up just yet.”

  She was so serious, long gone was the girl who was the constant optimist. She’d been replaced by a solemn version, directly juxtaposed to the one I’d so briefly known.

  “What do you worry about?”

  “Hmmm…” she rocked a little as Veyda stirred, “The past. I worry it will haunt me until I die.”

  “Me too.”

  We shared a staring moment, one where a depth of connection buried the shallower ties like music and movie preferences.

  “You’re gonna have to tell me about that one day,” I whispered to her, hoping the lower level of volume could coax her.

  “I could say the same for you,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder.

  “I’ve never told anyone, not even Maddox knows it all.”

  “No one ever knows all of another person’s secrets, no matter how close.”

  “You believe that?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I did. I don’t anymore.”

  She rocked the baby again when she stirred, “And now what do you believe?”

  I cleared my throat. Never in my life had I carried on such an intense conversation. It felt like bleeding out, but bleeding out never felt so freeing. Bleeding out also stung a little.

  “I believe there’s some people who do get close enough, burrow under the skin, see through the camouflage, crawls over the walls…”

  “Melts the ice,” she offered.

  “Yeah, melts the ice. Then it’s fine to tell them everything because if you trusted them enough to let them in, then there’s no getting out. Once they’re in, they’re in.”

  Falcon came in a few seconds after I finished my ridiculous soliloquy.

  “I’m gonna heat the bottles. Can you guys hang out for that? I know you’ve got a bout tonight.”

  “Actually, I’d love that. It’s been a long time. And all I need to do is grab my bag, get something to eat and I’m ready.”

  She looked at me for the okay and I couldn’t resist. If she wanted it, it was hers—all of it.

  Falcon put powder and water into bottles and placed them in machines plugged in, heaters, I assumed. He came in later with bibs and draped some cloth thing over my shoulder.

  “Here for my Veyda and this is for my Victory.” He kissed each baby on the forehead as he handed us the bottles.

  Hayes was immediately engrossed, speaking to Veyda through the gulping. Poor Victory, she just got me, who barely knew how to feed her.

  “After two ounces you have to burp her.”

  “Oh, okay.” I mimicked her posture, placing the baby sitting up, leaned against me, holding her chin and patting her back with the other hand.

  “This looks painful.”

  Hayes laughed, “It’s not. What’s painful is a baby with gas. Trust me, keep going until she lets it out.”

  “If you say so.”

  I continued until Victory made a tiny burp sound and Hayes gave me permission to continue feeding her. After two more ounces they were both done—and soon afterwards, Falcon and Hayes changed them. I was not touching that task with a ten foot pole.

  “Damn, we have the best babysitters ever.” Reed emerged from the bedroom and sat on the recliner.

  “We really do, Poppy.” He kissed her long enough for me to turn my head.

  Hayes looked at the time, “We really have to go now. I have a bout tonight. And without Reed and Storey, I guess I’ll actually get some rink time in. I really suck next to Serial Keela and American Horror Storey.”

  “Nah, it’ll do you good. You need practice, that’s all.” Reed assured.

  “Thank you. They are really beautiful. I know you have plenty of help, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  Falcon and Reed thanked her and told her to visit anytime.

  “Can I take you to the bout or is there some female empowerment in driving yourself to a bout?”

  I tried to joke with her.

  “Ha ha ha. If you’re not sick of me yet, yeah, I’d love for you to drive me.”

  “I don’t see that happening in the near future.”

  “Well, come in. I’ve got to change and grab my bag.”

  “Okay.” I parked the truck and we went inside. I sat on the edge of her couch as she fiddled through her mail.

  “See this?” She pointed to an envelope with AARP across the top.

  I nodded, “This is my Dad trying to be funny. He signs me up for Hover Round wheelchairs and AARP. Sometimes he’ll sign me up for pregnancy magazines or nursing home flyers. Or once he sent me a gift card in a huge box with tons of those horrible packing peanuts—like the size of a TV. It took me forever to find it. He’s always mailing me stuff. He thinks email is the beginning of the end of social society. Whatever you do, don’t get him started on Facebook.” She smiled, obviously caring for her dad.

  I took note of how the mail made her light up.

  “We have about an hour before I really have to be there. Are you hungry? We ate a pretty early lunch.”

  “Yeah, I am kinda hungry. Do you want to go somewhere?”

  She dotted her finger on her lips, “Well, I make a mean frozen pizza. Is that okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  She put in the pizza and opened the refrigerator scanning the contents. Her biting her lip earlier in the day had set something off in me and now that we were alone, it was damned near unquenchable. I stalked to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, waiting for her to turn.

  “What do you want to drink? I’ve got lemonade, sweet tea, water and there’s a coke in here somewhere.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” My proximity startled her, her body jolting as I began to speak. She turned, smiling, “You scared me. I didn’t know you were so close.”

  I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat.

  “Not as close as I’d like.”

  She shut the fridge and lessened the distance between us, but somehow she was still too far. “Better?” She spoke in a breathless tone, I hoped it was for the same reason as I was nearly gasping for air.

  “Better, but not really what I had in mind.”

  “So tell me how close you want me to be.”

  “Close enough to kiss you.”

  She reached out and knotted her fingers together behind my head. Her wild hair and those breath-seizing blue eyes cemented me in place. I couldn’t believe she was so near after watching her from afar for so long. I curled one particularly unruly strand behind her ear—damn, even her ears were perfect. Our breaths mingled together, and as I closed in, she gasped softly. Our lips touched once, hers silken and firm at the same time. She tasted exactly like she smelled, like cake—when you’ve been starving for cake. I wanted to press further, deepen what we’d already started. And before I knew it, my hands were on her hips, gripping them, pulling her against me so that neither breath nor fear could weave its way between us. I kissed her with a fury I didn’t know I possessed, and she granted me entrance to her vanilla and candy mouth. I
pushed all warmth I owned into that kiss, loving her with my mouth the best I knew how. I could’ve kissed her forever. But then she pressed her hands against my chest and let out a half sigh, half giggle.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding about needing my lips later.” She smiled bashfully and moved her face to hide on my bicep.

  “No, I wasn’t. Though that was more than I’d expected.”

  She laughed, “You expected me to be an awful kisser?”

  “No,” I ran a hand through her hair, “I expected me to miss or sneeze in your face or something.”

  She grew serious, “Been there.”

  “Are you talking about guys after I just kissed the hell out of you?”

  She slapped her hands over her face, “Sorry.”

  I pulled them down and kissed each fingertip, “I was just kidding.”

  “You were right. You are better one on one. Wanna tell me why?”

  “I spent a lot of time by myself or just with my dad while my mom worked. I didn’t get a lot of practice in group situations. At school I just kinda stayed quiet. It was in everyone’s best interest, trust me.”

  Her eyebrows pulsed downward once, “You were angry.”

  She was very perceptive. My protective barrier bounced against her advance.

  I can’t do this.

  “Yes. I was angry, still am.”

  “Anger doesn’t suit you.”

  Remorse bubbled through me. My tongue had betrayed me. I sidestepped away from her, “And pity doesn’t suit you. Look, on second thought, maybe I should get home and see you later at the bout.”

  “I don’t pity you. But that’s fine. Run away.”

  “I’m walking, not running,” I said, already making my way to the door.

  “The only difference is speed,” I heard her whisper to the air, since she probably didn’t think I was listening.

  I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I’d ruined it just like I knew I would. But I couldn’t stand that look in her eyes. Plenty of people had it way worse than I did. Like my mom. She’d had it worst of all. And look what it taught me. It taught me, apparently, to drop all my qualms about falling in love at the first girl who’d let me kiss her in a good while. I was weak. I had to be stronger. Otherwise either she or I would end up used, abused or neglected, squatting in a corner crying after one of us ripped the other one’s heart out. It was inevitable.