FREE STORY WITH EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. This is *not* a Paid Story.
Eighteen-year-old hockey prodigy Elliot Wexler has three goals for senior year. One: somehow graduate with a 3.5 GPA. Two: hide his bipolar disorder from his peers. And three: make it in...
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WE'RE IN HIS BED the moment we get back. He's kissing a trail of fire along my neck, and it's all happening so fast; before I know it, he's reaching beneath my shirt, inching toward my breasts, and I freeze up. Elliot stops.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just—" I grip the neck of his hoodie. His eyes are as dark as the night sky in the half-light, and he's so magnetic, but I'm nervous. And maybe a little scared, too. I've had sex more times than I care to count, but never with a guy I have real feelings for. With bated breath, I ask, "Is it okay if we wait a little longer?"
"Yeah. Of course." He kisses my forehead and falls to the side, arm still secure around my waist. "We have all the time in the world."
So we hold each other, and fall asleep quietly, and for the first time since the night we played Monopoly, I truly forget who I really am.
* * *
When morning comes, streams of sunlight sneak through the curtains and shine in my eyes, and I'm alone. Disoriented, I lift myself up, only to find Elliot's hockey bear in his spot on the bed. My phone has two texts: one from Elliot, one from Alecia. I read Elliot's first.
Yesterday was awesome. Sorry I didn't say bye before work, but you were too cute to wake. Let's order pizza tonight.
I smile wide. Yesterday really was great. Elliot is a good kisser, and the feeling of his lips still lingers on mine.
I open Alecia's message next. She sent a picture of my favourite Metallica T-shirt.
Hey, thanks. I thought I lost that thing. Can Brett drop it off?
Nope he's busy. Let's meet somewhere.Colton's in Toronto
I have a bad feeling. I've stayed at Brett and Alecia's safely many times since I escaped Colt, but we've had some close calls lately. And this thing with Elliot; it's too good. I can't risk anything, so I text Alecia back.
It's too risky to come to your place...
Obviously. That's what I've been saying all the nights you were crashing with us. I was thinking we meet at Carol's
OK. Carol's is as far West as I go.
* * *
Carol's Diner is a hot spot in the west, and wide windows line the walls giving view to the untidy street outside. A scraggly teenager walks by and spits on the ground, followed by an old man who looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks. I've gotten too used to the type of people who live in Elliot's world; the friendly neighbours who wave to us when we pass, the mailmen who drop packages off on doorsteps with smiles even when it's negative thirty.
