Chapter 11 All I Ever Want To Be
ALL I EVER WANT TO BE
Mom is surely losing her bananas over the snow.
The flakes are even bigger now than they were when we were in Dad’s shop.
As Holt held my hand, tugging me from the shop to the passenger side of his rusty blue truck, the big flakes had fallen all around us.
Some clinging desperately to the fibres of our jackets, the others to the strands of our hair in a desperate attempt to find a place to settle, to root, only to melt in the heat that blasted from the dash.
My heart feels a little like those snowflakes now as I sit beside a boy I’m crazy in love with.
It’s desperate to settle. To root somewhere deep inside him.
But I’m starting to fear that maybe the place my heart has chosen to rest will inevitably be scorched, burned raw by the dreams I can’t compete with.
I’m not sure what the remnants will be, if any will exist at all.
Holt leans back in the seat, his hand sliding over to mine. “You’re thinking again.”
I smile, but this time it doesn’t come easy. “I’m always thinking.”
His fingers curl tighter around mine. “Want to talk about it? Whatever it is.”
I don’t want to talk about it. My insecurities are only growing more and more raw every day. And that last look in Dad’s eyes, the pained worry in his smile. It affected me. Deeply.
Still, I want Holt to think I’m strong.
No, I want to be strong for Holt.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
“Faye.” Holt unbuckles my seatbelt before he tugs me across the bench seat.
With an arm thrown heavy around my shoulders, he lifts my chin with his other hand.
His brown eyes I love so much bore into mine.
Drilling into the depths of me as though he’s panning for shards of my soul to keep. “Talk to me.”
There he goes, sifting through the pieces of me in his search for the gold he’ll steal and never give back. I crumble at his feet like sand, and he holds my heart in the palm of his hands. I wonder if he knows.
“I love you, Holt.” The words fall from my tongue like a confession pulled from the very depths of me, snared eternally in the ether of first love.
My breath catches in my lungs as he stares down at me for long moments. My mind works to backtrack the confession and fails. Even though there is fear in this declaration, there is relief, too.
Still, I hadn’t wanted to say it first. I’d clung to those words, desperate to keep them close in the hopes he would give them to me first.
I feel even more raw now. Another piece of me is his for eternity.
Finally, the corner of his mouth lifts. My heart flutters.
His smile is everything.
“That’s what’s been bothering you?”
My own happiness crumbles, just a bit. He didn’t say it back.
Tears are thick in my voice as I croak, “I guess.”
His voice drops. “You don’t want to love me?”
My eyes snap to his. “What? No, that’s not it.”
“Because I’m in love with you, Faye. All the way in love with you.”
My heart soars on the wings of a hope so blissfully foolish. My mind screams at the silly organ to slow down, but like usual, it doesn’t listen. It just continues head-on for the wreckage.
“You do?”
“Yeah, peach. I do.” Holt dips his head, his mouth coming to mine for a long kiss that sears the chill of fear inside me. It cocoons me once again in hope that rejects all the limitations of life.
We can do this. We can be one of the rare ‘forevers’ that people tell stories about. We’re real.
When he pulls back, my lips feel puffy from his kiss as they stretch into a slow smile. My heart feels swollen.
“There she is.” The pad of his thumb slides over my lips. “My happy girl.”
His girl. Just his.
All I ever want to be.
I’m hopeless.
My hands fly high above my head as I jump to stand, screaming my cheer into the others that echo off the walls of the arena. My hands bracket my mouth and I scream again, “Go Rubbles!”
One of the guys on Holt’s team gives him a boy-man fist to the shoulder in congratulations for scoring the winning goal against the Calgary Ravens. I keep cheering until the waves of winning celebration die down and the players line up to shake over the game, before skating off the ice.
Andy leans in close. “Holt just keeps getting better and better every year.”
From her other side, Shyanne’s words cut straight through me.
“He’s going to go big. All he’s ever wanted was a life away from Rubble Ridge.
” Her eyes find mine and she smiles a sweet smile that is intended to slay.
“There’s nothing that’s going to hold that boy back from going pro.
Nothing.” Her eyes slide meanly down the length of me, clearly finding me lacking. “And no one.”
The two girls on the other side of Shyanne, Amber and Jenna, snicker.
Andy bumps my shoulder. “Don’t listen to her.”
“I don’t know why we always bring her to these things.”
“Because she’s dating Kevin.” Andy rolls her eyes. “And she’s not usually so mean.”
“I’m not sitting with her next time,” I warn, loud enough for Shyanne to hear me. “Even if that means I sit alone.”
“Oooo.” Shyanne touches a hand to her heart. “The new girl won’t sit with me. How will I cope?”
“I’m not the new girl anymore, Shyanne.”
Shyanne sniffs. “You’ll always be the one who doesn’t belong.”
“Stop being a bitch, Shyanne,” Andy snaps. “You’re better than that.”
Shyanne looks shocked. “You’re calling me a bitch?”
“You’ve been acting like one, so yeah.”
“She’s—”
“Done nothing to you.” Andy’s hands fall onto her hips.
“If you’re angry, be angry at Holt. He’s the one who hurt you.
All Faye did was move to Rubble Ridge. She didn’t steal your boyfriend.
You weren’t even dating Holt. You went out a couple times.
Big difference.” Andy pulls in breath. “And you shouldn’t care, anyway.
Aren’t you crazy in love with Kevin now? ”
Shyanne’s face is beet red, her mouth a tight line. She stands, Amber and Jenna following, “Whatever.”
They walk away and Andy sits down again. She’s shaking, which is surprising. Andy isn’t the type to shake over confrontation. She’s more the type to walk all over you, beat you down a peg or two with sharp words, and walk away unaffected.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did.” She huffs a tense sigh. “She’s been a bitch to you for months, and it sucks, because she’s not that person.
I mean, I know she has it in her to be that person, clearly.
We all do, I think. But she’s better than that.
It’s not like you knew about her and stole Holt from under her.
He saw you and that was it. He chose you.
She looks silly for hating you for it. Sure, hate him.
Whatever. You, though? It’s stupid, and I don’t like stupid. ”
I can’t help it, I laugh. Andy looks struck by the sound, surprisingly speechless. I drop my head on her shoulder. “I love you; you know that?” I tell her. “You’re a really good friend.”
Her head falls on mine. “Love you too, girl.”