Page 145 of Between the Blue
HER
I take the last photo I think I need for the day, slipping my camera inside my bag.
I hesitate on the side of the rink.
Everything in me wants to leave, but I shouldn’t.
I’m already a few social media posts behind for the day. I know I could knock them out in fifteen minutes if I really put my mind to it, and that I could be out of here before practice is even over.
I decide to go with the responsible decision and plop down on the bench, letting my bag slide off my shoulder and pulling out my laptop.
I just get my first photo and caption finalized when a loud whistle blows.
“Alright, gentleman, that’s enough for today,” Coach Barrett calls from the middle of the ice. “It’s been a long week. You can head on out.”
Chatter amongst the players and coaching staff immediately ensues as they’re dismissed, the echoes of their voices rumbling loudly in the room.
My muscles stiffen as they all start filing out past me to head to the locker room. Normally I’d look up at them as they pass me to smile and say goodbye. But I just can’t today.
It’s too soon.
And I’m not going to run out either.
I’ll sit here and finish my work, and then I’ll go.
It takes about a minute or so for the two dozen men to get off the ice and the room to fall silent.
I continue working away, like I’m not aware of any of it. And for some reason, even when the final slam of the locker room door reverberates down the hall, I still can’t relax.
It’s like I can still sense something.
Someone.
Him.
I blow a steady breath out of my nose, then slowly raise my head.
And, sure enough, there Ben is, lingering about fifteen feet away in the middle of the ice.
When he sees me looking at him, his throat appears to bob, and then he starts slowly skating in my direction.
He comes to a gentle stop just on the other side of the wall from me. We both hold each other’s eye contact for a few long seconds before he takes his helmet off. He sets it on the wall next to him, along with his hockey stick and gloves.
“Hey,” he finally says, breaking the ice between us.
I grip my laptop in both of my hands. “Hey, Bennett.”
He leans forward onto his elbows, his brows pinching. “Please, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
His mouth tilts downwards. “Distance yourself from me. I do a well enough job of that for the both of us.”
I look at him for a few moments. “Why do you think that is?”
He swallows, his eyes glancing between my own. And then he stands up straight, pushing himself an arm's length back from the wall. “Come out here for a minute.”
I raise my brows at him. “Out…?”
