Page 23 of Safety Net
“It’s in the details,” I said quickly, trying to prove I wasn’t all-in simply because she was beautiful, and my heart sped up every time I knew she was in the vicinity. “The colors you choose for your eyeliner. Rainy days are yellow. Sunny days are pink. Purple when there’s something big happening in the community center. That’s when I know an event’s coming up and you’re in charge of prep. Then there’s…”
She stared at me like I’d grown another head. Or, just revealed how closely I’d been paying attention to small changes in her routine. Fuck. This was, without a doubt, not the way to talk to her to reduce the panic.
“What I meant to say…” I shrugged, trying to figure out how to run that back. “You seem like you make good art.”
You seem like you make good art? What the hell was wrong with me? I have crushed on dozens of people in my lifetime. Never have I ever struggled this much to flirt with them.
“I don’t know about that, but I hope I will one day.” She played with the end of one of her braids. “So…do you think you’d be free to set up a meeting to decide initial plans for the project? I have a PowerPoint that’ll help you prepare.”
“Love a good PowerPoint.”
“Oh, and my aunt’s the manager of the playhouse, so she can sign off on any form you need for your class. The hours won’t stretch outside of what the class requires, I swear.”
“Sounds good.” It was probably best that I kept my responses concise for the rest of the conversation or risk further awkward overly-detailed reveals.
“Good.” She lifted herself on the balls of her feet for a second. It was a small move I’d seen her do with Naomi whenever she got excited over something they were talking about. I smiled because I’m even hooked on her tiny expression of joy. The motion made her braids sway, and I imagined touching them, the softness between my fingers as I held them off her neck.
“I’ll text you,” she promised.
“I’ll answer,” I said, in awe and out of it because this was really happening.
Celeste dipped her gaze down; her bottom lip pulled between her teeth in embarrassment. And I immediately realize what I’ve done.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I added quickly. I really,reallyneeded to go home. Reset or something.
“Okay,” she said and moved her focus toward fishing out her keys. “I’ll see you…soon?”
“Soon,” I promised. And better than whatever the hell this was.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LINCOLN
As soon as the frigid air of the arena hit my nose, my body felt like it’d shed an itchy layer. I had no clue where my life was going. Where I was supposed to end up. But I knew for sure now, I loved being on the ice. Everything fell into place here.
Maybe this could be my future?
I laughed at myself. It was little late for those kinds of thoughts, though. I was always a little late.
Henrik knocked his hockey stick against mine to claim my attention. We were the only ones in the locker room, getting ready for practice. Without gear on, Henrik would never be mistaken for a hockey player. He was the smallest guy on the team, with a lean body built more like a long-distance runner. His dark hair was cut short, always brushed off his forehead in as perfect a condition as when he first got it cut. Henrik’s pale skin was unmarred by adolescence, a key evidence he was born to be a middle-aged man and came from a time when people wore pocket watches and three-piece suits to dinner.
“I’ll talk to Sam for you,” he offered. “If you really don’t want to work with Anthony.”
I didn’t have a problem working with Anthony. I’d said a one-off comment at breakfast about my heavy summer course load, impending volunteer hours at the playhouse, and Henrik took it seriously.
“I’m not afraid to stand my ground with Sam.” I finished lacing up my skates, grabbed my helmet, and stood up.
“Oh, really?” Henrik asked. He took longer than me to get ready, probably holding out hope I’d give in at the last minute.
“There are worse things in life than disappointing Samson Morgan,” I said.
“You really think so?” he teased.
“Plenty.” Like ending up alone. Dead ends in life. Never actually finishing anything of importance. Never getting the chance to know how it felt to see Celeste and have her see me.
I shook out my shoulders, trying to rid my mind of everything that would weigh me down on the ice, and started toward the door.
“Thanks for coming, Hen. But I need you to let this go and focus on getting a puck passed me. We both know you can’t do that yet, so it’s good you’re spending the summer practicing too.”
