Bev had gotten a light concussion and a few colorful bruises, but other than that, she was fine. The hospital made her stay the night to monitor her concussion as a safety precaution. Summer wanted to stay the night, but Bev told her to go home and sleep. Only very unwillingly did Summer do so, but then came back the next morning at the strike of dawn to pick up Bev and drive her home. She helped her down in the car, even all the way home and up the stairs to her bed. Luckily, Bev still lived at her parents place, so her parents would look after her. If that hadn't been the case, Summer would've insisted she came home with her and stayed at her own house.
"Summer, I'm fine," Bev kept assuring her. "I slipped on the ice, I wasn't watching where I was going. I was jamming to Jingle Bell Rock and I didn't see the icepatch. It was my fault. Well, mine and Bobby Helms. Seriously, did he have to write such a catchy tune?"
"If there weren't any ice, you wouldn't have had to look out," Summer argued with a strained voice.
"Please, then I would've just tripped over my own feet, I'm a horrible dancer," Bev snorted to herself. "I think the ice did us all a favor."
"Don't say that, that ice could've killed you!" She protested. "What if you had landed wrong and broken your neck? I can't live without you, Bev."
Bev immediately looked up at her and then her face softened. She softly took Summer's hand and squeezed it in hers. "I know this had to bring back some bad memories for you. I understand why you feel that," She gave her a little smile, "but I'm fine, Summer. You shouldn't blame the ice for my recklessness. I knew it was icy out there and I still decided to dance. That's like deciding to swim after you ate, even though it hasn't been half an hour!"
Summer shook her head. Bev couldn't shake her opinion on this, just like Jack couldn't either.
But, speaking of him, she hadn't heard from him since yesterday where she left him standing on the ice. She had tried calling him last night, after she got home from the hospital, using the number he had called her shop with, but he didn't pick up. She wanted to talk to him after what happened. She felt as if she had blamed him for only trying to help her. She needed to make it right with him, make him understand she wasn't mad at him. She actually missed him – she really needed him now more than ever.
But Jack didn't pick up his phone and life had to continue. With Bev now on bedrest, Summer was in charge of the coffee shop alone. She went down there and opened it up by herself, then begun waiting the customers, hoping every time the door opened, it was Jack who would step through. But it wasn't. The whole day passed by and there was no sign of him. She tried calling him two more times, but he still didn't pick up. Summer now had to come to the conclusion that he was avoiding her.
It hurt to admit that she had hurt him. It wasn't fair to call them even now, but she at least thought that he would've understood somehow. But no. Instead he did the immature thing and avoided her.
She also didn't know where he lived – if he had rented a room or was staying at a hotel. She knew so little about him, yet she cared so much for him, and she supposed it went the other way as well, given how much Jack had tried to help her overcome her fears. But fact of the fact was, they were strangers.
As evening came and it was time to close up the shop, Summer still hadn't heard from him. The weather had gotten worse in the meantime. Dark clouds slid over the sky and made the whole of Whitefish look somber and bleak. Some sloppy snowflakes were falling down and melted on the ground and turned it into a slushy landscape. The cold was really setting in.
Summer got into her car and turned on the engine, immediately putting the warmth on even though there was no warm air yet. She pulled out of her parking spot and rolled onto the slippery roads. She hated this kind of weather. If snow absolutely had to fall, it could at least stay on the ground instead of turning into mush.
If weather had a mood, this would be depressed.
As she drove carefully down the roads, heading home, she passed by buildings and houses where she through the window could see families eating, watching television, cozying up on the couch in front of the fire. Tonight, Summer would come home to a cold home, a cold fireplace and a cold bed.
'I promise I will keep you warm this winter. I promise.'
'We promise we will come right back home, sweetheart. We'll only be gone ten minutes, tops.'
Promises. Summer couldn't help but scoff silently. Why were they never kept? What was the point of them anymore? Nobody could stick to them. Her parents, the weather forecast, Jack... nobody.
And yet still... all she really needed right now was Jack. She had gotten addicted to his cold, but oddly warm body. His sweet smiles and twinkling eyes. His passionate kisses and his electrifying touches. She missed him. God, she did.
As if God heard her and granted her an early Christmas wish, a flicker of silver caught Summer's eye. She nearly skidded on the road as she hit the brakes and pulled over on the curb when she saw Jack sitting on a bench by a bus stop. He was resting his hands on his cane with his head on top, looking as if he was praying over his cane. Or sulking. He looked miserable and cold.
"Jack!" Summer called the minute her car was safely secured on the side of the road. She immediately jumped out of her car and skidded towards him. "Jack, dear God, what are you doing out here this late, it's freezing! You're soaked, aren't you cold?"
Jack didn't stir for a moment and it made Summer briefly fear that he in fact had frozen to death in the blistering cold, until he slowly lifted his head, the layer of snow that had gathered on top falling off. As his face came into show in the harsh light of the street lamp above, she had to hold back a gasp.
He looked ghostly pale, more so than ever. His eyes were red and the twinkle within them was gone as if it had never been there. His hair fell flat against his forehead and everything about his clothes said wet and worn out. All in all, he looked like someone who just got told someone close to him died.
"Summer... I'm so sorry."
She had to blink to remember what she was really there for when he spoke. "What? Why are you apologizing? You know what, it doesn't matter. Please just come into the car with me, you look close to death, Jack." She didn't care how much he said the cold didn't affect him. She would be damned if his ego was going to get him killed.
But Jack didn't move an inch. Instead he lowered his head again and closed his eyes. "I can't see you anymore."
That took her completely off-guard, and for a moment, she thought she misheard him. "W-what? Why? Please don't tell me it's because of what happened earlier," She said, regretfully. She was ashamed of how she had reacted. Once again, Jack had only tried to help her, and once again, she had pushed him away. It was no wonder he wanted to break things off, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. "I'm sorry, Jack, just please don't—"
"No, I'm sorry, Summer," He said and looked up again. He met her eyes and she saw the deep grief in them. "This is all my fault. I can't be around you anymore, it just doesn't work. I'm sorry for giving you hopes."
She couldn't believe it. He was ending it, just like that? "Are you serious right now? That's it? What about yesterday? What about that thing you wanted to tell me? It wasn't... this, was it? If it was, then why go through all the trouble if you were just going to break it off anyway?"
Jack just silently shook his head and averted his eyes again. He squeezed them tightly, then let out a sigh. "I wanted to... leave it on a happy note, but the truth is, I obviously can't keep you happy and warm, so I..."
"You what?" She said, tasting bitterness on her tongue. She couldn't believe this was really happening this sudden. She thought they were good again. Apparently she was wrong. "What about you, Jack?"
He sighed again and pressed his lips together. "I just don't have the time for your problems."
That one hurt, but Summer was a big girl. It wasn't her first rejection, it was just a long time ago since she had felt that sort of pain. The kind she had been avoiding. "That's great. That's brilliant, actually. Make a girl feel special for a moment, spend a few nights in her bed, then break it off. Great one, it's definitely new."
"Summer, it wasn't like that—"
"Just... save it," She said and held her hand up, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "Even if it wasn't, I don't want to hear it. I can't use it for shit. If we're over, then were over. Heck, we weren't even a thing to begin with, so where's the fire? Merry Christmas, Jack."
And with that, she turned around, got back into her car and drove away, leaving him there.
And the worst part was, he didn't stop her.
• • •
Okay, I'm making an early New Year's resolution; I'm quitting the cigs. My lungs are so fucking dead, I currently sound like Louis Armstrong.