Page 68 of Axe-identally Married
I should be relieved, but instead, I felt cheated.
As I watched him skate, a chill rushed through me. When he was close, I’d forgotten all about how cold it was in here. To warm myself, I glided around, getting my legs moving and breathing deep, trying to recover from whatever the hell had just passed between us.
Before I was fully in control of my hormones, he skated up behind me and draped an arm over my shoulders. “I want you to tell me a story,” he said.
I frowned at him. “About what?”
“About your first kiss.” He raised one eyebrow.
Huh. So now he was thinking about kissing. Where was that train of thought a few moments ago?
I kept skating, not particularly interested in walking down that part of memory lane.
“Come on,” he teased. “Who was it?”
I turned toward him and swallowed thickly. “Jonathan Billings.”
He stopped skating, his eyes widening. “Seriously?”
Annoyance flashed through me. “You asked.”
“Okay,” he said, taking off again. “I need to hear this story.”
I skated faster, wishing I could escape him but knowing it was an impossibility. I was suddenly filled with a lot of pent-up aggression. Maybe I’d go back to practicing the slap shot he’d been teaching me earlier.
Thinking about Jonathan made my stomach knot and my heart ache. I had been a junior in high school, and he was the first boy who’d ever shown interest in me. “Jonathan and I flirted constantly for several months. He was on the math team too, and we were partners for debate. It was a big year. We qualified for the state championship and were assigned to argue why the metric system was superior and should be implemented in the United States.”
“I played hockey in Europe for a few years. I totally agree.”
My stomach churned at the memories that flooded me. He would put his arm around me a lot. Make excuses to touch me. All the cluesSeventeenmagazine told me were surefire indicators that he wanted me to be his girlfriend.
“I was used to being ignored by boys. And if not ignored, then not desired like girls like Lila were,” I explained. “Sure, they’d stare at my chest and make jokes about my boobs, but no one was asking me out. During the spring of our junior year, I spun out this wild romantic fantasy in my head. Jonathan and I would win the state debate championship, and then he’dask me to junior prom. From there, we’d naturally make our relationship official. Go to college together and get engaged the day I graduated from med school.”
He was skating backward now, only an arm’s length away, listening intently. I liked that about Cole. When I spoke, he listened. As much as I did not enjoy telling this story, I appreciated that he was making an effort to get to know me. That he cared about what I had to say. “That’s a very specific fantasy,” he joked.
Frowning, I shrugged. “One of the disadvantages of having your life carefully planned out for you is that there isn’t much room for wild fantasy.”
“So what happened?”
“We were practicing at my house one night. Making note cards and researching different forms of government. It was chilly, but he suggested we take a walk to clear our heads before studying for our chem test. So we bundled up and walked through town. The streetlights had come on, and the sun was setting. God, it was perfect. And right in front of Baxter Park, he stopped, took my hand, and kissed me. In that moment, all my teen dreams came true.”
Cole stopped skating and crossed his arms, which looked absurd with his hockey gloves on. “Really?” He arched a brow. “Really. Jonathan Billings was a great kisser?”
I waved off the question. “I had no frame of reference, and it felt very romantic at the time.”
After the kiss, we walked home, hand in hand, my heart absolutely soaring. Greatest day of my life. While we studied, my mom made microwave popcorn. As sad as it was, I felt chosen. Special. Like because this boy liked me, I was suddenly worthy.
Pathetic was more like it.
I had been raised by the best people. My mom was curvy, like me. She’d always taken great care of herself and had seta wonderful example of confidence and acceptance. She never once put me on a diet or implied there was anything wrong with me.
In fact, my parents always celebrated me and supported me. They were proud of every single part of me.
If only the world had agreed. Finding clothes was next to impossible, and I had to order old lady bras off the internet by the time I was sixteen. By junior high, I knew that I wasn’t the kind of person guys considered desirable. Because of that, it became the thing I wanted more than anything. To be desired. To be wanted and cherished.
God, I was such a sad sack.
Cole was silent, watching me, patiently waiting for the rest of the story. “So then you became boyfriend and girlfriend and you eventually dumped him because he wasn’t even close to good enough for you?”
