Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Cody
I should have skated onto the ice because I was worried about his siblings, but Ari was right. They were capable skaters, definitely more capable than me. And Ari had them set up in view of his skate booth, so it was easy to keep an eye on them. A family skate is structured so that families with various aged children, can skate all over the place or set up in one spot on the ice. Much different than the teen skate in which they barrel around the ice for sixty minutes at the speed of light, playing their own game of Frogger.
But I didn’t brave the sheet of slippery death for the kids.
I’ve never been drawn to ice skating, but I was that night. Never have I wanted to skate more. I wanted to be part of them. I wanted to be in Ari’s sphere. He’s not just a guy who plays hockey with the local beer league. It’s a family tradition. Threads of his DNA.
It’s Thursday, which means beer league hockey night. Ari’s here. He stopped by before he went to the dressing room, trying to get my answer a day early.
“C’mon, Codes. You’re killing me. What’s one more day?” he’d said.
“Hmm, impatient,” I’d said. “Another strike against you.”
“Strikes? You makin’ a list?”
“Yes,” I said, though the real answer was sort of. I can’t deny having been through all the pros and cons, but my only real cons have nothing to do with him, and everything to do with my own inadequacies. But I have to—at the very least—try to move past them. Ari’s showed me the road to sunshine, shouldn’t I take a small detour with him?
He frowns. “I didn’t make a list about you.”
“I—” My words caught in my throat. I wasn’t actively trying to hurt his feelings, but I think I might have. I didn’t know what to say after that, and I guess he didn’t either because he grunted a “see you later” and left with his giant hockey bag for the changerooms.
Because they’ve got the ice rented for themselves, I have nothing to do but sit behind my counter, pretending to clean, and serving the girlfriends and boyfriends of the players who’ve come to watch. But what I’m actually doing is stewing. Kinda panicking, too. If Ari’s hurt, I’ll be crushed. I’m too far into this to back out now. Maybe I should have just told him yes? But I was trying to be flirty. I suck at flirty. I need to stay in my lane. My lane is open, honest communication. Know what? I’m gonna start right now. The rest of the significant others will be in the stands watching the game, and they won’t need anything from me till intermission.
I pour myself a hot chocolate and meander over to a group of girls who look like they might be friendly. My free hand clenches. I’m so not good at making friends. What if I’m a bother? What if they reject me? What if I look stupid?
But I want to be with Ari bad enough to say words.
“H-Hi. Mind if I sit?” I ask.
One of them raises a brow. “Do you know someone on the team?”
Alarm bells go off. Mistake. This was a huge fucking mistake.
No, she asked a simple, normal question. Answer the damn question, Cody.
“Yeah. My, uh, my … Ari’s playing. Ari Meyer? I know him. Do you know him? I’m his boss.”
Fuck do I sound like an idiot. There’s nowhere to hide, either. I’m at the mercy of their kindness if they have any.
“His boss watches his hockey games? Weird,” she says. I die inside. “Guess you can sit if you want.”
At least she’s talking to me. The other girls—who I clearly misjudged as friendly—don’t bother with me.
“How do you guys know Ari?” I ask. Maybe a little kindness will break through their iciness.
“I’m his girlfriend,” she says.
My chest squeezes, pain hammers a drumbeat against my ribs. No way. There’s just no way.
“You are not, Liz,” another one says. “You wish you were his girlfriend.”
I can breathe again. Not well, but air fills my lungs slowly and my body fills with the desperate need to put my mark on him, to let everyone know he’s mine and not theirs.
If I didn’t ruin things.
Loud elephant-like stomping echoes along the bench seats. A herd of Meyers storm toward me. Little Rachel Meyer picks up speed when she sets eyes on me.
“Cody!”
I set the hot chocolate down as quickly as I can, catching her. She squeezes around my neck.
“Sorry about that,” Mercy says, taking a seat, and directing the boys to sit. “Rachel begged me to bring her here to see you. Fair warning, she expects another ice cream.”
To see me?
“Ari said you were gonna be his boyfriend,” Rachel says. Loudly.
“He did, did he?” I don’t argue it, though. I do want to be his boyfriend.
Liz huffs. She might have also muttered something like, “So his boss hangs out with his family, now?” It’s easier to ignore her when I’m surrounded by Meyers.
“I’m Bea,” Ari’s older sister says.
“Yes, I remember you from high school.”
“I wasn’t sure if you would. Do you mind if we sit with you?”
I tell them to sit anywhere they like. Rachel stays in my lap. “Look, look! They’re coming,” she says. “I’m gonna be a hockey player when I grow up.”
Ari skates onto the ice. His eyes widen when they spy his family—guess he didn’t know they were coming—and he shows off a little for the kids, spinning, doing a fancy hockey stop, and playing with a puck.
My heart might burst. He’s even handsome in all his gear, shaggy hockey hair curling out of his helmet, goofy grin showing all his teeth, and the exuberance of a puppy.
Somehow, this is where I belong.