Kiss and Cry

by Ramona Lipson

  By the time they had dessert (mom gave me the evil eye when I went to reach for one) and aperitif’s it was nearing eleven. I managed to be excused shortly thereafter practically running up the stairs to start texting Tara.

  When I looked at my phone for the first time in four hours there were messages from Adam waiting for me, but I was too excited to talk to Tara to bother checking them. They could wait until later when I could savour every word he wrote me:

  Dalia: I met him!

  Tara: What did U wear?

  Dalia: My holy jeans & camisole with the black jacket my mother gave me.

  Tara: Face and makeup?

  Dalia: Picture, perfect!

  Tara: What did he look like?

  Dalia: A greek god’s body with intense dark chocolate brown eyes & wispy brown hair. He’s the > beautiful guy I’ve ever seen.

  Tara: Fuck off!

  Dalia: Serious!

  Tara: Do U like him?

  Dalia: No, I hate him.

  Tara: Why?

  Dalia: His club, his coach, double standard.

  Tara: ?

  Dalia: The first question from Mrs. Kennedy after asking about my injury was, ‘R U dating any1 Honey?’

  Tara: Seriously?

  Dalia: Yes, & do U think my parent’s asked HIM if HE was dating any1? N. O.

  Tara: What did U say?

  Dalia: What do U think I said? No, I don’t have time to date!

  Tara: So R U going 2 break up with Adam?

  Dalia: Why the hell should I? As far as I know, Ryan could B dating someone & nobody minds. Why shouldn’t I be afforded the same courtesy?

  Tara: Amen 2 that sister, if U’r parent’s ask what we did tomorrow, what do U want me 2 say?

  Dalia: Just say we hung out @ Sierra’s.

  Tara: What R U & Adam doing?

  Dalia: I don’t know, he wants 2 surprise me.

  Tara: Well, Don’t get caught!

  First Day of Training

  I woke up before my alarm went off. The clock displayed 5:58 a.m. My first day of training on foreign ice, with a foreign coach, after a major injury. I couldn’t begin to describe the anxiety festering in me, I was definitely on edge (Pardon the pun!).

  The house was quiet and the morning light was peaking through my blinds. I stretched out in my cozy warm bed before getting up to shower. I chose to use tepid water rather than hot, fearing my muscles would relax too much in the hot water. I knew I was going to be spaghetti legs today, and I wasn’t about to worsen the situation.

  Wrapped in a towel, I padded over to my closet to pick the figure skating dress I was going to wear to the arena. I picked my favourite one made with black lace on the upper body, dropping down really low in the back. The skirt was also slightly longer in the back. It was elegant. I covered the majority of the dress with my good luck hoody that I brought to all my competitions and practices. It was my security blanket.

  The keys to mom’s car were left for me on the front table, which told me she wasn’t coming to our first practice. Nice, I thought sarcastically, this again. Just as I opened the front door mom called out, “Are you ready Honey? I’ll take you.”

  Well, wonders never ceased, mom came clipping down the stairs fully clothed with the exception of her Christian Grey slippers. The paraphernalia they sold after the release of the first movie was too much! “I’ve already got the keys,” I told her.

  She was following me out the door, “Mom, Your slippers!”

  She looked down at her feet, “Oops! Thanks.” She walked over to the closet and changed into her shoes shrugging on her fall jacket before continuing out of the house.

  Mom took the keys from me and we got into my dad’s beat up, shit box, really embarrassing to be seen in, backfiring, fifteen year old Honda Civic. Great first impression to anyone who might be in the parking lot of the new arena we were going to, “Can’t we take the other car?”

  “Sorry Honey, this one has gas in it. We don’t have time to take the other car.” I got into the passenger side while mom attempted to turn over the ignition.

  Row row row row, nothing.

  Row row row row, nothing.

  Row - Hum.

  Mom grinned, “See, Honda’s never let you down! Domestic cars spend more time getting fixed than they drive on the road. Remember that when you go buy your first car Honey!”

  My first car, was going to be a Mustang. I fell in love with them ever since I rode in Adam’s. I didn’t bother informing her though. Once she started on one of her tangents, there was no stopping her. We drove to the new arena in silence. It was a good twenty-five minutes from my house. When we arrived she said, “I’ll drop you off here.”

  “You’re not coming in?”

  “No, Ryan’s mother offered for Ryan to drive you to school after all the practices. She switched him to your school when I informed her about its high ratings against all the other schools in Toronto. We figured if the two of you are doing the same curriculum than you can study together at competitions. It’s all set up. See, you’re not the only one who’s going to have to do some adapting, he is too. See you later dear!”

  I closed the door and she was already pulling away from the curb. With my bag flung over my shoulder, I walked into the unfamiliar doors of the arena with trepidation.

  Once I passed the doors there was a vacant desk to my left and a well lit lounge to my right overlooking a darkened empty curling rink. The lounge extended to the next area I approached which was the rink I would be skating in. The couches were occupied by parents that were interested in watching their children skate. I knew I would rarely see my mine there. The Zamboni was already making its way on the ice, so I knew I had to hurry if I didn’t want to be late.

  My eyes finally landed on a sign pointing out the direction of the change rooms. I briskly walked down the stairs to find the senior woman’s locker room and quickly put on my skates. By the time I got back into the lounge the skaters were taking to the ice.

  I stepped into the arena and as quickly as the cold air hit my face, so did the realization that I missed being there, on the ice. My eyes welled up with tears of relief that this part of my life wasn’t over, my love for figure skating wasn’t lost. The chilled air from the rink filled my lungs and I immediately felt exhilarated.

  Ryan stopped in front of me with one foot spraying snow towards the low boards just as I was about to step onto the ice. Like any girl my age, I was undeniably drawn in by his rugged good looks. He had presence. His six o’clock shadow was worn 24/7. He was wearing a black hoodie and matching workout pants normally seen in a gym. When his dark eyes locked onto the tear making its way down my cheek, his eyes darkened transforming his expression into one of concern, “Are you okay?”

  Embarrassed he noticed, I quickly swiped it away, “Ya, Just happy to be back on the ice. It’s been six weeks, but it felt like a lifetime.”

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured. “We both know its your first day back after an injury. Coach Hicks won’t expect you to do triple axels until tomorrow, maybe the day after. He’s going to take it easy with you,” he joked. “Seriously though, you should start warming up, he’ll be out on the ice in a few minutes.”

  Ryan left me to go warm up. I watched him as his long strides covered the ice. His strength and speed were beautiful to watch. I feared I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him. Cautiously, I placed my foot on the ice, with the other one following. I slipped them back and forth a few times limbering up my ankles.

  I started stroking around the ice, first slowly and then picking up speed. Everyone on the ice was staring at me with curiosity because I was new to them, Ryan’s new partner, someone they would be skating with on a regular basis. I know the same thing would have happened if the situation were reversed.

  My established comfort was slowly returning. After four forwards and two backwards laps around the ice, Ryan motioned for me to join him at the edge, “Mr. Hicks, this is Dalia, Dalia, Coach Hicks.” I immediatel
y recognized him from competitions after seeing his face. He was about half a foot shorter than Ryan, and unmistakably gay, no gaydar needed. His students LOVED everything about him with the exception of his temper for which his reputation preceded him.

  “Pleased to meet you,” I greeted.

  “The pleasure’s mine,” he smiled. “Now I want to see how you look together on the ice. Ryan stroke around with her, remember in competition you are never to be further than six feet apart from each other, so get comfortable being in each others space. Ryan make sure you take on her pace not YOURS. When you’re out in the real world and I mean especially competitions, I want you guys holding hands and looking like a couple. Its imperative you sell yourselves if you want to be successful. You want all of Canada behind you and people like couples with chemistry! Got it?”

  “Sure Mr. Hicks,” he pulled off his hoodie leaving only a tight Wife-beater T-shirt covering his chest.

  I gasped with shock seeing him standing practically naked before me, “That’s what you skate in?”

  He looked at me a surprised by my moxie, “Yes, I get hot,” he explained. Oh.My.God. He didn’t have to tell me that. I think I was beginning to get hot myself. I felt flush warm cheeks.

  Coach Hicks joked, “Can you blame me for being Gay Honey?” I had to chuckle at his comment. Now it was Ryan’s turn to get embarrassed, he turned away. The rest of the session was exactly the way Ryan said it would be, easy. When we were getting off the ice and covering our blades with our guards Ryan asked me, “I take it your mother told you I’ve been registered to go to your school?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “So then you know I’ll be driving you.”

  “I do, if it works for you?”

  “It works for me, just fine,” he answered.

  When I got to the locker room and started unlacing my skates, I reflected on the practice session. I could tell that Coach Hicks and Ryan were being careful at working me in slowly, not wanting to cause any re-injury, or any deconditioning, which was very comforting.

  The Zamboni took to the ice forty-five minutes before we were expected to be in homeroom. The issue was it took approximately twenty-five minutes just to get to school from here. We met at the parking lot almost simultaneously.

  He opened the main doors and led me to his black Mercedes sports car, “Wow,” I complimented.

  “Mom won it in the divorce settlement,” he explained. “It doesn’t replace my dad, or make him leaving okay.”

  “I’m sure it doesn’t,” I empathized. “He cheated on her?”

  “More than once, he blamed mom on neglecting him because of the skating. Nothing was HIS fault.”

  I buckled myself in and remained quiet most of the way to school.

  We arrived to find the parking lot free from people because we were running so late, “Do you have your schedule yet?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll take you to the office, but I’ll have to leave your there or I’ll be late for homeroom.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  Supportively, I took his hand and walked him up the cement stairs into the school, showing him where the office was and then ditching him to make my way to homeroom.

  Angry Adam

  The anthem was just beginning to play as I rushed to my desk. Adam wasn’t there which was weird because he was always there. I pulled my phone out to text him and see if he was okay when I spotted the texts from him I had forgotten to open. I clicked on his name and began reading:

  6:45 p.m.

  Adam: U look beautiful, why R U so dressed up 4 a person U never met B4?

  6:46 p.m.

  Adam: Call me after he’s left.

  11:18 p.m.

  Adam: Did he leave?

  12:01 a.m.

  Adam: Why Rn’t U calling me?

  9:00 a.m.

  Adam: Meet me in my car after homeroom.

  I couldn’t breath. He must have seen me get out of Ryan’s car. My heart was racing in panic mode.

  Ryan and I were holding hands going up the stairs.

  Coach Hicks told us to!

  We did it here!

  Why did we do it here?

  I reached for HIS hand.

  I told myself to take a deep breath. Mrs. Uptite was going through attendance like she had time to spare.

  I didn’t think homeroom ever took this long.

  It was taking a long time.

  Too long.

  The bell rang.

  Homeroom suddenly felt like it ended too quickly. I collected all my stuff and scrambled to the parking lot not caring if I was going to be late or even attend the next class.

  My eyes scanned the parking lot.

  I noticed Adam’s Mustang parked immediately NEXT to Ryan’s black Mercedes.

  Breath Dalia breath! How do I let myself get into messes like this one?

  Adam is standing outside of his car staring at me. He’s dressed in his usual hat with a hoodie covering most of his face and jeans.

  He’s smoking.

  He’s smoking a cigarette.

  He never smokes.

  I don’t ever think I’ve seen him smoke before.

  Is this what he does when he’s angry?

  Petrified to approach him but knowing I had to, my legs were getting heavier with each step.

  He was jumping to the wrong conclusions.

  Maybe I was jumping to the wrong conclusions.

  I don’t know for sure that he saw me.

  I have no idea why he wants to talk.

  I didn’t think I was,

  Jumping to conclusions that is.

  He most definitely saw me.

  The Car

  He took a long drag of the cigarette before flicking it and unlocking the car doors. I knew I only had seconds to collect myself and get it together. He didn’t look at me or talk, just silence.

  I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. I started staring at the clock on his dash. I would wait five minutes for him to break the ice (pardon the pun) and if he didn’t than I would. My face was getting hot with upset.

  I knew he was waiting for me to start, “Hi.” Oh.My.God. How lame! It couldn’t have been more lame! I looked passed him at the Mercedes praying we would quickly finish whatever we were doing here, in case Ryan came out. I lied to Ryan about having a boyfriend! It wasn’t like I had a choice though. I was put on the spot with Mrs. Kennedy AND my parents being there!

  “HI?” he mimicked in an exaggerated tone.

  “I take it buddy who drove you here this morning is your new ‘partner?’”

  “Uhm, Yep, that was Ryan. He’s going to be going to school here,” I giggled nervously.

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Seriously, I thought it didn’t bother you that I had a skating partner? A partner I do sports with is ALL he is.”

  “Do you want to tell me why you were holding hands with this partner you do sports with? Actually, why were you even in his fucking car?” I sensed major jealousy.

  “Mom, made that arrangement. He’s going to be taking me to school from the arena everyday. If you want to date me, you’re going to have to get used to the fact, that I’ll be spending a lot of time with him.”

  “I’ll pick you up from the arena.”

  “You can’t! What will I tell my mother?”

  “You held his fucking hand,” he seethed.

  “Yes, I did. Coach Hicks wants us to look like a couple when we’re in the public eye. He said the couples with chemistry tend to get higher marks. If you’re worried Adam, rest assured, I don’t even LIKE him.”

  “If that were the case then why were you so dressed up for him when you met him? Where you trying to get him to like you?”

  “Of course not, for all I knew he could have been gay. We always dress up on Holidays at our house,” I explained to him.

  “So he’s not gay?”

  “I hazard to guess, but unlikely.” If he was, it would have been a sev
ere blow to womankind.

  “Why didn’t you call me after your company left?”

  “I forgot. I was texting back and forth to Tara, and then after that I fell asleep. I didn’t even have my phone on.”

  “Does he know you have a boyfriend?”

  Catecholamines were now racing through my bloodstream. I began hitting fight or flight mode. Either way I answered this question, I was screwed. I chose to placate Adam until I had enough time to come clean with Ryan, “Yes, of course he knows.”

  “He better know, because if you’re not telling me truth, I’ll make sure he finds out,” Adam threatened. “I’ll walk you to class.”

  Later That Day

  We missed second period altogether, so he took me to my third period class a bit early. We waited silently together in the hallway and then he pushed me up against a locker and we kissed passionately, his tongue mimicking penetration as it slid in and out of my mouth. He pressed me harder against the locker showing me just how badly he wanted me before whispering into my ear, “I need time to rethink our relationship.” He pushed off the locker away from me, leaving me wanting more and shocking me simultaneously.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” I asked dumbfounded.

  “I don’t know if I can share you the way you’re expecting me to,” he confessed. The bell rang and the halls filled, Adam turned on his heel and walked away, not looking back. The steady stream of students made him drift away from me quickly. I abandoned the classroom trying to catch him locking my eyes onto him as the distance between us grew. I started knocking into other students as I tried frantically to catch up with him, they were giving me dirty looks and slowing me down but I was determined. I saw him leave the front doors of the school and by the time I got out there he was pulling onto the street.

  Tears of frustration went surging down my cheeks. I whipped my phone out and texted Tara: