Page 147 of Between the Blue
“No,” Ben shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I pull my head back, something about how he said that seeming to have a deeper meaning.
“Just, please, humor me.”
“Fine,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “The game starts here. This is where puck drop happens.”
“Right,” Ben says. “It’s where it all begins. Everything in this circle is so tense. Every little shift in movement causes everyone else to react. One wrong move up front, and it can set the mood for the entire game. It can be the most intense zone of the entire rink.”
He looks at me, seeming to be waiting for a reaction. “Right, okay,” I agree.
“But what else is it?”
I raise my brows.
“Zoom out a little,” Ben tells me, pushing off backwards on his skates.
I shake my head, letting him know I’m not following.
“Right here,” he says, coming to a stop and motioning along the ice with his pointer finger. “Between these two blue lines. What is this area called?”
I tilt my head, glancing between the two lines painted in blue on the ice about twenty feet from either side of the center circle. I think for a few moments, but when I come up blank, I shrug.
He skates back over to me, stopping on a dime. “It’s the neutral zone,” he says.
I lift my chin, finding Ben’s eyes. He presses his lips together, exhaling through his nose.
“We’ve been facing off since the moment we met, Cherry. And I know a lot of–most of– that’s on me. And I wish I could tell you why, but it’s just not something I can do. I know that doesn’t make sense, and I’m sorry. But I’m just trying to be honest with you. The most that I can be.”
“So, what are you saying?” I ask.
“I’m saying, why don’t we take a step back?”
I open my mouth, but my question dies on my tongue as Ben suddenly dips down and grabs me by the hips, picking me up just enough that my feet float above the ground so that he can push me backwards a few strides and set me down again.
When my feet come in contact with the ice once more, I look down, realizing we’re not inside of the circle anymore.
“Instead of continuing to face-off, why don't we just try staying between the blue?” Ben asks.
I look up at him, and that’s when he seems to realize his hands are still on my hips. He removes them, dropping them to his side, but he doesn’t move back any further.
“Between the blue,” I repeat.
He nods, continuing to stare down at me.
“Is this your way of asking me to be your friend, Ben?”
He swallows, and his voice is low when he speaks again. “Only if you won’t make me regret it.”
A few seconds go by, every emotion possible swirling through Ben’s eyes and every feeling at once pounding in my chest.
If I’m being completely honest with myself, I don’t think it’s what I want.
But I know it’s what’s best.
“Fine,” I nod. “Friends.”
I hold out my hand, and Ben takes it.
