The Face You See

by Amelia Legend

“Yeah, actually, it gives you a lot of skill and speed on the ice. So when I was a kid, I did both figure skating and hockey. But don’t ask to see pictures because it isn’t going to happen,” he says with a smile.

  “Fair enough.”

  Melody leans over and whispers, “Incoming.”

  I glance over Reed’s shoulder just as Jett walks up into the stands. I quickly look away, taking a deep breath.

  “You okay?” Reed, noticing my unease, furrows his brows.

  “Sorry … my ex and his friends are on their way over, but please don’t listen to anything they say about me. Jett likes to talk smack about his exes. He hates me, apparently, and is successfully trying to ruin my reputation, which in a town like this, is easily done. I am so sorry, but he is Jem’s older brother so he is pretty much unavoidable,” I quickly whisper.

  Reed gives me a sympathetic nod. “So you broke his heart?”

  I shake my head. “No, he broke up with me. I have no idea why he would feel the need to talk trash.”

  Reed looks Jett over, from the top of his head to the tips of his feet. “You dated that guy?” he says, looking unimpressed. He turns to me with a serious expression. “He looks like a tool, if you ask me.” Then he leans closer to me and quietly adds, “You shouldn’t date guys like that.”

  Shocked by what he just said, I look away, trying to find a response while pretending to pay attention to the game, which has just started. By his startled expression, I think Reed’s a little shocked by his reaction too. Luckily, Jett and his friends sit with the other ex-jocks who graduated and who also happen to be visiting for the first game of the season. Annoyingly, Kendal and her groupies are already making their way over toward Jett with fierce, skanky determination.

  Jem, Melody, and I chat occasionally with the passersby we know or comment on which guys on the team are hot. Personally, I think all the football players our age are alcoholics in training and frankly a little dull, but I try to be supportive.

  Reed sits dutifully beside me, periodically cheering with the rest of the crowd, but otherwise staying uncharacteristically quiet. I hope I haven’t made him feel uncomfortable with my confession. I try not to look over at him, but I fail miserably. The few times our eyes meet, I look away while trying to hide my blush. I also try not to concentrate on the fact that my entire left side is plastered to him. I may or may not have scooted closer to him than I needed to. It’s crowded, and I refuse to admit to any responsibility for our seating arrangement.

  After our team wins the JV game, the crowd stands for intermission, trying to get the blood back in our legs. Reed leans into my ear, whispering above the noisy crowd, “Let’s go get some hot chocolate to warm up.” I try in vain to ignore the shiver it causes to have his breath on my neck.

  He smells like soap, cologne, and Reed. I answer by simply nodding. It’s not like he would hear my voice in this crowd—or that my voice would work after that.

  So. Sexy.

  I admire him from behind while he forges a path through the bodies as I gladly follow. I have always liked guys with nice backsides, so sue me. He glances over his shoulder to see if I am still there. While the crowd pushes and pulls us, he suddenly grabs my hand as he continues forward. I am very aware that my hand, which was cold a moment ago, is now on fire. All I can think is, I hope it’s not clammy … Let’s be honest, girls; we all think that immediately.

  I cannot have feelings for this guy. He is way out of my league! Friends. Just friends.

  The concession stand line is pretty long, so we stand, waiting our turn quietly, hand in hand, and I give myself a pep talk. I peek up at him, realizing he is staring at me with a smirk he is obviously trying to hide. I stare back, feeling suddenly bold, taking in his dark-green eyes for a long moment. He exudes a confidence, a groundedness that I don’t experience but that I envy. He is beautiful, and from our time spent studying together in the library, I’ve found out that he’s also smart. Not so good with English, but amazing with numbers. Aside from that, he is unfailingly kind, and under all that corded muscle, he actually has a heart. Imagine that. He is the helps-the-old-lady-cross-the-road-with-her-groceries type of guy. And suddenly, with frightening clarity, I realize that I am in danger of more than a simple crush. I suppress a groan, caused by that wayward thought.

  “Hey, loser,” I hear from behind us, immediately causing me to cringe because I know that voice too well.

  A muscle in Reed’s jaw flexes, and his eyes suddenly look hard as we both turn toward Jett. Luckily, Reed towers more than a few inches over Jett and is solid muscle whereas Jett has become a little more “stocky” since college. Must be all that beer.

  “Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jett smiles at me in such a way that it makes me want to slap him across the face. His dark-grey blue eyes sparkle with unspoken humor. He looks up at Reed, stretching out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jett. It’s nice to meet you. And you are?” Smugly, he smiles at Reed through his curly blonde hair, making him look deceptively innocent. I speculate on his sudden change in style this year—more hipster than jock, except for, of course, the super-trendy lip piercing he’s recently been sporting.

  Reed graciously takes his hand and shakes it. “Reed,” he quickly says. Looking like he is not going to say any more, he suddenly adds, “Heard a lot about you,” and with a smirk, he turns back around, abruptly ending the conversation.

  Jett just raises his eyebrows while glancing at me. “Should have known you would have jumped into bed with the first guy to look your way.” He lowers his voice while leaning in. “That’s what sluts do, right?” He smiles, satisfied by the stricken look he must see on my face.

  Reed’s shoulders suddenly go stiff, but as he slowly turns around, our eyes lock momentarily before he looks back at Jett. I am humiliated at the thought of Reed thinking, even for a minute, that I’m the slut Jett says I am. For once in my life, I wish I had the courage to tell Jett to his face just what I thought about him. A-hole. Instead, I do the next best thing. I turn on my heels and bolt.

  I am shoving my way through the crowd, angry as hell, but I don’t even care if I look half crazed. Maybe I am. I am so tired of whatever obscenely obnoxious gossip Jett spreads around. Why do people believe him? He was my one and only boyfriend for crying out loud! I had had no experience with anyone else, and now as long as he is around to sabotage any possible relationship, I definitely won’t have any more. What does he want? He doesn’t want to be with me, but he doesn’t want me to be with anyone else? I don’t get it!

  This is exactly why you can’t get close to guys, Dannie. This is exactly the heartache I never want to feel again. I relish in the anger I feel as it slowly replaces the pain. Don’t get close to men!

  I am slowing my pace through the crowd as tears begin to blur my eyes, when a hand suddenly grabs my shoulder. I quickly turn to find Reed looking down at me with a somber expression. He lets his hand drop slowly. “Let’s get out of here … Want to go somewhere with me?”

  All I do is nod, not trusting myself to talk yet.

  I text Jem and Melody to explain why I am leaving as we hop in his truck just in time for me to see Jett through the fence laughing with his friends, his arm around some girl I don’t recognize. No surprise there. But I am surprised that it’s not jealousy I feel; it’s pity, disgust, and rage.

  Deep breaths, Dannie. Let. It. Go.

  Luckily, Reed, sensing my unease, can’t seem to get away fast enough. We drive to the outer edges of town where the houses are more spread out and you can actually see stars, but I feel safe with my friend in the silence of his truck. He reaches across and grabs my hand, giving it a light squeeze.

  “Can I take you somewhere I go sometimes to get away? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I want you to know I don’t believe a word he said … And for the record, he’s a dick.”

  I can’t help but chuckle at his comment while taking a deep, relieved breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.<
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  I can’t help letting my mind drift to the last time I felt something toward Jett, before he broke my trust.

  Last Summer

  I am pacing the floor, my hands shaking, still clutching the phone. Jett has just said those four words that I have been dreading to hear, and it’s almost surreal now that I have. “We. Need. To. Talk.” That’s all it takes to put any girl on edge.

  He is on his way over, and although we broke up two weeks ago, he’s been back and forth as if he can’t quite let me go. I am afraid this is really it. The real end. Not just him asking for space. Not just him wanting to “hang with the guys” more. As if I didn’t know they get trashed almost every time they are together.

  I hear his car park in the driveway, and I sit on my bed, waiting for him to come up. It feels like it takes him forever. I quietly listen to the sound of my own heart thumping in my chest. Alone. I am going to be all alone again. I close my eyes, so as to not see the look on his face while he walks through my bedroom door and closes it softly behind him. I pretend not to hear him walk over to me and kneel in front of me. I stop breathing the moment his lips touch mine. I open my eyes and look at the heartbreaking sadness written on his face that is certainly mirrored on my own. Only his eyes hold a regret that mine do not. I look into a face I have looked at a thousand times over the last few years, and I regret the friendship we risked by partaking in a relationship that wasn’t meant to be, the friendship we have surely lost.

  But then he does the most unexpected thing. He smiles. That dimpled boyish smile reminds me of better days. Pulling me into a hug, he almost breathes in my ear, “I missed you,” and he starts kissing me again. This kiss has a little more heat with a little more intensity, bordering on neediness. He lifts up my shirt, and I lift up his while we push and pull at each other until we are both satisfied.

  But before his breath has evened out or my heart stops racing, he sits up and quietly dresses. It feels like doom even while it sounds like silence, and I know this is the end. He was here for a good-bye, not reconciliation. And I was stupid enough not to know the difference. As he turns, sitting on the bed, my heart stops at the completely empty look on his face. He says, “Now I know I don’t love you anymore.” And he stands up and walks out, without so much as a glance behind him.

  I can feel my heart break. I can even hear it …

  Reed interrupts my wayward thoughts in a surprising way, declaring, “Dannie, it took every ounce of self-control I have not to beat the shit out of your ex tonight.”

  I sit there a little stunned because that is the first time I had heard him curse. He isn’t the type to use any profanity, and I smile a little because it sort of sounds like he wanted to defend my honor or something. Those butterflies are definitely back. Damn them. I’m suddenly glad for the silence because I haven’t a clue what to say.

  “Believe it or not, but I was quite the hell-raiser in my old town. I don’t want to go back to being that guy, but if you ever need me to teach him some manners, all you have to do is ask.”

  I am shocked by his admission, mostly because I just can’t see it. Although his eyes are deadly serious and his words sound sincere, it’s hard for me to imagine such a sweet person being in trouble. The regret that slowly fills his eyes is obviously the cause of his darkening mood.

  He continues quietly, “I wasn’t a very good person, Dannie. I hurt a lot of people, but I decided before moving here that I wanted to change. People change,” he mutters.

  I stay silent because he seems to be talking to himself more than to me. Maybe he is trying to convince himself that he can be a different man?

  Both lost in thought, we eventually pull down a dirt road and drive into a clearing before he turns the truck into the middle of a field. We are definitely on the edge of town, in a field far enough away that we can’t see any houses, just lights in the distance.

  Stopping the truck, he suddenly smiles. “C’mon!” he says as he jumps out excitedly. He proceeds to hop onto the hood of his car.

  I try to jump on like Reed but fail miserably. I blame it on my vertically challenged legs, so I ungracefully half-climb/half-roll onto the hood. Reed stifles a laugh at my sad attempt before giving me a helping hand.

  “Don’t laugh!”

  He tries to hide his smile behind a hand. “I’m not.”

  “You are! Now I know you aren’t a gentleman. Shame on you!” I try to maintain a wounded look.

  “Never said I was,” he retorts, not even trying to hide his smile now.

  The hood is still warm as we lay back, looking up at the stars. Reed takes my hand again. It’s so nice holding his hand; in fact, I can’t recall the last time someone held my hand. Had Jett ever held my hand? Ignoring the direction of my thoughts, I linger on feeling the large masculine hand I am holding. Can hands be masculine? They’re a little work-worn, which fits his Kansas cowboy persona. I smile at my thoughts when I notice him smiling too.

  “Thank you for bringing me here. Sorry about earlier …”

  “My pleasure.” He seems to want to say more as he looks back up at the night sky. “Can I ask you something?” He pauses and waits for my response. At my continued silence, he asks after a moment, “Why did you ever date someone like that?” He turns his head toward me quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that; it’s none of my business.” His voice is gentle, but his body looks tense in the moonlight. He’s clearly trying to keep himself from saying more.

  I take a deep breath, and even though I hate talking about personal stuff, even to Jem and Melody, for some reason, Reed feels like a safe place. “I was young, and I think very naive about guys. Honestly, I think I loved the idea of him … of his family. His sister is my best friend. Jett and I were even good friends once too.” I continue the thought I couldn’t say out loud, “I never wanted to be the girl who dates jerks, but I totally was. He was controlling and mean to me in front of his friends. He was sweet enough when we were alone that it made me feel that it was worth it somehow. That it was justifiable.” I pause before continuing the worst part of my confession because I might as well get it all out there. “As horrible as that sounds, I think I was using him without realizing it, using him for normalcy.” His family is the family I wish I had. I wanted to legitimately be a part of his family, not just a close friend. I had never actually admitted that to anyone, but it felt nice to finally say it with words. Releasing the truth helps somehow, even if it’s hard to say, even when it makes you feel vulnerable.

  Looking back on our relationship, I know I was never in love with Jett. I knew it even as I said the words to him, but a part of me wanted so desperately to belong to his family I was willing to take the bad with the good. I’m reluctant to admit to myself that I’m still a little girl somewhere inside looking for a place to belong. But what I really need is to be okay being alone. I am enough, and I need to learn to accept that, or else I’ll end up like my mother. I cringe at that thought.

  I look hesitantly at Reed, afraid of what I will undoubtedly find. I expect to find judgment, but his face is filled with sadness. Not pity, thank God, but a heartbreaking resolve that I feel in my own chest.

  Reed continues looking at me, squeezing my hand. “I am here if you need someone … as a friend.” His face breaks out into a heart-throbbing smile. “I am really good at listening. And I’m even better at talking.” He gives me a wink, clearly trying to lighten my mood.

  My heart drops just a little at the “F” word. Friend. But that is okay, because that’s what I really need. I don’t need to date right now. What a mess that would be! Nevertheless, the silly girl inside is pouting just a little. He starts chatting excitedly about growing up on the farm and about the importance of weather and water. He describes in excellent detail his hometown. I am so grateful for his obvious attempt at distracting me that I just quietly listen to the sound of his deep voice and close my eyes.

  Heart in my chest? Check. But not for long I fear.

  I smile to
myself, glad the night wasn’t a complete fail. Reed may have been trouble at his old school, but clearly he was trying to make a change. No judgments. He obviously has regrets, whatever they are. But don’t we all have some regrets? I won’t hold that against him. Lord knows I have my fair share of regrets following me around in the form of Jett. I can understand and definitely respect his need to start over while not letting his past dictate his future.

  I tell myself that every day.

  WTHell!

  I freaking friend-zoned myself! Why did I do that?

  I’m driving home, pissed off, turning corners in my truck like the devil himself is after me. Again with the word vomit! I hit my hand on the steering wheel in frustration. Now I’m gonna suffer hard because instead of kissing her like I wanted to—and holy hell I wanted to—I couldn’t keep my mouth shut! Then, I dropped the “F” bomb. Friend!

  I got home and headed straight to my room, glad my family is gone and can’t witness my crap mood. I can’t handle an interrogation right now. After slamming my door, I shuck my clothes off, fall into bed, and immediately cover my eyes with my arm as I go over the words I regret saying. I revealed more than I wanted about the person I was back in Lincoln. I didn’t want her to know that I might have been more like her ex than she suspected. I was a hell raiser, a complete tool, a punk kid with a chip on his shoulder. When you grow up in a small town, there are only two groups: the in-crowd and the outsiders. Unfortunately in my case, I had to become a dick to ensure my piece of acceptance in my old town. It was exhausting. I hated it, hated myself, and swore I would never care that much about what people thought of me again. The cost was just too damn high. The cost was my self-respect.

  As I stare at the ceiling, my thoughts turn brooding. When I came here, I wanted a clean slate, I didn’t want to be that person anymore, but when I saw Dannie’s ex, I was reminded of who I had been. And I was ashamed. Not only that, but the crap he said about Dannie made me want to beat the smile off his face or seriously choke him out. I’m pretty sure I would do anything for this girl, pretty sure she’s it for me. Luckily, I barely kept it together because I’m positive Dannie would not be okay with me punching her ex in the face.