I really should have tried this sooner.
I probably should’ve tried a lot of things sooner, actually.
We skate until it’s almost too dark to see properly, then take one final spin around the lake, congratulating ourselves on how much we’ve managed to improve in such a short space of time. Just before we leave, though, I pull out my phone to take a selfie of us both, only to realize my fingers are too frozen to hold it properly.
CRASH.
With a sickening crack, the phone slips through my numb fingers and lands face-down on the ice. I scramble instantly to pick it up, but I already have a horrible feeling I know exactly what I’m going to find, and sure enough…
“Oh, shit.”
I stare at the cracked screen of the phone, which is now suspiciously blank, then press the on button a few times, without much hope.
“This doesn’t look like a phone that wants to work,” observes Elliot, taking it and trying the same thing, with exactly the same result.
“It’s fine,” I say, taking it back and stuffing it into my pocket, not wanting something as stupid as a broken phone to spoil the mood. “I’m sure it can be fixed. Or I’ll buy a new one. I might take it to Martin, next door, actually. He’s really good with stuff like this. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out he’d actually been working for MI5 this whole time, and the bakery was just a front.”
Elliot pouts.
“Don’t take it to Martin,” he says. “I know I don’t know the guy, but I do know he’s into you, so, look, I’ll take you to get it fixed tomorrow, okay? We’ll make a day of it; go into town and have lunch or something. My treat. Anything but meeting up with Weird Martin.”
“Okay, okay,” I laugh, taking his hand as we make our way back to the car. “I’m not turning down an offer of lunch. I will need to get the phone sorted, though. Otherwise I won’t be able to stay in touch with you if … well, you know.”
Elliot just nods, and holds open the car door for me, saying nothing. Once we’re inside, though, he produces a flask of hot chocolate he’s somehow managed to procure from the surprisingly amendableSandra, and we sit together sipping it as our bodies gradually start to thaw.
“That was amazing,” I say, watching as the last couple of skaters glide across the lake in front of us. “I’m glad you suggested it now.”
“I’m glad you let me talk you into it,” Elliot replies. “I know you weren’t keen on the idea to start with.”
“No. But, like you said, it’s good to give things a chance.”
We fall silent, both of us thinking the same thing.
“It was brave of you,” Elliot says suddenly. “Telling your dad about Florida, earlier. That can’t have been easy for you.”
“No,” I admit, swirling the hot chocolate around in the flask before handing it back to him. “No, it wasn’t. I still feel terrible about it.”
For a moment, the only sound in the car comes from the heater, which is turned up to full-blast, in an attempt to warm us up again.
“You know, I meant what I said,” Elliot says quietly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But you are going to have to make a decision soon, Holly. I only have a few days left here. If you’re going to come back with me, we have to start organizing that. Book you a ticket, let my parents know you’re going to be coming with me…”
“I know, I know,” I reply, interrupting him. “I’ve … I’ve been trying not to think about how long we have left. But I guess it’s becoming inescapable, isn’t it? There’s just five days until Christmas Eve. That’s nothing, really.”
I think of Dad, sitting alone upstairs in the flat, eating his solitary bowl of tomato soup, probably with the label still sticking out of the back of his sweater and only the creepy elf doll for company, and my eyes fill with tears again.
“It’s not his fault, you know,” I tell Elliot, blinking them back. “For being so overprotective of me. He’s doing his best to let me go. I know he is. It’s just … well, he loves me. That’s all.”
“But I love you, too.”
The words come out of the darkness like a confession. Which I guess is exactly what it is.
“Shit,” Elliot mumbles, staring down at his hands on the flask. “That just slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it. Well, I mean, Ididmean what I said, obviously, I just … I didn’t mean it to sound like I was giving you some kind of ultimatum. I—”
“I love you too, Elliot,” I say, interrupting him before he can tie himself in any more of a knot. “And Ididmean to say it.AndI meant what I said.”
“Really?” His smile feels like a warm blanket on a crisp, cold night. And the kiss that comes after it feels like coming home after a long time away. Which isn’t something I’d know anything about, ironically enough. But I’m starting to think I might just be brave enough to find out. Honestly, if he keeps on kissing me like this — like his actual life might depend on it — I might just be brave enough for anything.
“I’m not asking you to choose between me and your Dad, Holly,” Elliot says seriously, when we pull apart at last. “I’d never do that. I’m just asking you to choose yourself for once. Do what makesyouhappy. I think that’s what he’d want you to do, too, if you were to really talk to him about it. And I think you need to do that; don’t you?”
