Page 21 of All That Glitters

Jameson’s shoulders sag. My throat tightens as his eyes meet mine. His expression looks defeated. I’ve never seen him look this way. He’s always been determined, ambitious to a fault. On the ice and off it.

“What do you need from me?” he asks, his voice almost robotic from the amount of control he’s exerting.

My mind falters. I try to grasp my thoughts from earlier, but they’re flitting around my brain like ever-moving hummingbirds. I can’t catch one. I look down at my open journal, trying to focus.

“I was thinking,” I start as I skim my notes. “I thought we could—”

The words don’t come. My heart races in my chest. A sharp pain pinches my lungs. I close my eyes and feel my face heat. I open and close my mouth once, the words stuck in my throat.

“Goldie, just breathe,” Jameson coaches gently.

The kindness in his voice only makes the panic raging inside me increase. I fist my hands in the fabric of my skirt and try to ground myself in the feeling of it. I can’t deal with this right now. Having an anxiety attack at three in the morning on my bedroom floor is one thing, but in public? In front of Jameson? My stomach clenches.

“Remember that time we went to the beach for spring break in fourth grade?” Jameson asks, and my brow furrows.

Why is he bringing this up?

“We both got ice cream cones, and this kid was trying to catch a football and ran into you, making you drop your ice cream in the sand. I was going to fight him, but you held me back and took what was left of your sandy ice cream and mashed it on his head.”

A laugh bursts out of me, some of my panic dissipating as I recall the look on Jameson’s face when I turned around from getting my revenge. He was shocked, but then one of his rare full grins stole across his face. I take a deep breath and imagine it’s the salty air from that day.

“The kid tried to tattle to his mom, but she saw the whole thing and told him he should have been paying more attention. Didn’t she buy you an ice cream to replace the one you lost?” he asks.

I blink my eyes open, my eyelashes wet with tears that thankfully don’t fall.

“Yeah, she got me a whole sundae. We shared it, I think,” I reply quietly.

Jameson’s smile is hesitant. There’s worry lining his eyes. I wish he wouldn’t look at me that way, especially after I snapped at him. It confuses my heart even more.

“And my mom got mad because we were too full of ice cream to want dinner later,” he finishes the story.

I draw in another shaky breath. My face is still hot with embarrassment. I was cruel to him, then had a panic attack. How utterly mortifying.

“Better?” Jameson asks in a low voice.

I nod, not able to find the right words. I want to thank him, but I also want to scream at him. My heart is in pieces, and this whole time I’ve made him out to be the one that broke it, but moments like these make me question whether I’m the one who tore it apart to save him the trouble.

“Good.” I hear him let out a deep breath of his own. “How about you email me what you were thinking and we get together another time? You’ve got my schedule, so just tell me what works best for you.”

“Okay.”

I keep my eyes trained on my desk as he packs up his things. The paper’s hours are over, and I’ve got a ton of work for other classes. I’m sure he does too, since we share most of them.

A shadow falls over me as he pauses by my desk.

“I talked to my parents earlier.” His voice is so low it’s practically a whisper. “They said they love and miss you. I know you hate me, but I just thought you should know they don’t know that. So if you ever want to talk to them, you can.”

Oh. I blink back tears. My relationship with my parents is tumultuous at best, so I’ve always leaned on Jameson’s family for support. The past few months without their family dinners and supportive chats have been miserable. I took a chance and texted his mom happy birthday last month. She invited me to brunch with her book club, but I made up an excuse. I wasn’t sure if it would be some kind of trap. Not in a vindictive revenge sort of way, but more like a plan to get Jameson and I back on good terms. That’s the kind of family he has. They lovingly meddle and give well-meaning advice about things like car maintenance and eating more vegetables.

The only advice my mom ever gave me was to avoid pain in relationships.

“You have to take care of yourself. You’re the only one you can trust. Men will always disappoint you in the end.”

Given that she and my dad spent the majority of my life either arguing or coexisting in habitual passive aggression, I figured she was right. Or at least that by coming from her, I’m doomed to the same fate. My tongue is as sharp as hers. My heart is guarded like a palace, only I’m not sure there’s anything of worth inside anymore.

“Thanks,” I whisper after too long of silence.

Jameson doesn’t say anything more. His shadow leaves, yet it feels more like the sun disappearing behind the clouds. Cold starts to set in. I’m reminded of how alone I am. I’ve got my roommates, but I haven’t let them in beyond telling them about the situation with Jameson. Even then, they don’t have the whole story. I’m afraid if they did they’d tell me I was in the wrong. Then I’d lose them, too.