Dancing Queen (Julie and The Phantoms)

15. Blushing Hearts

Like an idiot, I chose to spend my night at the familiar Glacier Skating Rink rather than go back to the garage. Although tears stains remained on my face and I was very cold, I was decided on being stubborn.

And no, I was not good at skating. I sucked at it. But they sold really, really good pizza outside, and they happened to have really comfy seats outside. That's why crashed in one of them.

My face faced the back of the bench, so I didn't know at first who poked my shoulder. Flinching horribly, I turned around to an anxious Reggie. His usual gelled hair was disheveled, and his eyes... had he been crying? They were kind of puffy.

"What are you doing here?" Stretching, I yawned— well, it was more like a lion's roar.

He fidgeted with his hands, gaze low. "I came to see how you were doing."

"Of course." I laughed. I knew eventually the guys would come, but I expected it to be Alex to reach out. Still, I'm way happier that he was the one who came. "How'd you know that I would be here?"

Instead of laying down, I picked up my legs. This made Reggie slouch on the bench. "Liz, I've known you for a while. You usually go to two places when you're upset: my house or the Glacier. And since my house is not my house anymore, it was only a matter of guessing... I can sit here, right?"

I nodded. Passing my fingers through my hair, I realized how horrible I probably looked. "I didn't mean...." I sighed. "I'm so happy you guys are here, but emotions I had bottled up for years blew up. I'm extremely sorry."

"I know. Not your fault. Actually, it's our fault. I guess we didn't realize how much we hurt you. It must've been horrible the pressure you were put on," he frowned.

This was a side of Reg not a lot of people get to know. Yes, he's known for being a heartbreaker, playful, and not the brightest tool in the shed, but he's caring. He's the one that laughs at my jokes no matter how bad they are. He notices special details, and, contrary to popular belief, the first I talk to when I feel bad. His advice is not the best, but it is appreciated. He's the first one to defend me when I have a song idea and the rest disagree.

Of course, I return the favor. Whenever his parents were fighting or on the brink of fighting, I was the first one to come at his door, bringing pizza from this same rink and a 2 liter Coke. If it got too heated, I would bring my Walkman and we'd share earbuds. Rock songs and Star Wars talk usually did the trick.

Perhaps that's how I slowly fell in love... when we could have time to ourselves and not think about what others expected from us.

Then our accidents happened, one thing led to another, and we hadn't had the chance to talk to him since they came back.

"Thanks. You're making it hard to stay mad at." I poked his ribs. Smirking, he flipped his hair to the side. I love when he does that. "Hey, just curious. What happened to your hair?"

"I couldn't sleep last night thinking about you." He smiled, then quickly turned beetroot red. "Shoot. I- I-I  said that out loud, didn't I?"

I swallowed saliva, a pink tint also rising on my cheeks. "Yes. Yes you did."

"Damnit." He awkwardly giggled, similar to a witch. Is he trying to flirt with me? I think he's trying to flirt with me. And failing miserably. When has he failed so miserably? Why is he so suddenly nervous? Why am I  nervous for him? 

"It's okay." I rested my head on his shoulder, so he inconsiously slung his arm over my back. I didn't even realize I had let myself fall into his arms until it was too late; he had me on his grasp. "I'm... happy you're here," I stuttered.