The Boy From Hot Ice

He certainly didn't need to drive me around town for all my prom needs, but he insisted. And I gave in because any excuse to get close to him was just fine with me.
"What's your favorite color?" I asked him when we arrived at the dress shop. "Still blue?"
"I've been partial to gray lately," he smirked. "Why?"
"Well I can't wear gray," I sighed. "It's not a funeral."
"Don't wear my favorite color. Wear what you want to wear."
"I want to wear something you can't keep your eyes off of," I smiled.
"Liz, I'm going to prom with the hottest chick in school. No one's gonna be able to keep their eyes off of you."
He could be so sweet sometimes, strangely so, but he only used his charm in circumstances when it would catch me off guard.
"I don't know about that," I blushed as I waited for the shopkeeper.
She showed me five possible dresses, each one uniquely beautiful. Few girls at the school could afford such clothes, so I knew I could choose any one of these and no one would have anything like it.
"Pink or blue?" I asked him. "Oh, or yellow."
"I don't care," he waved casually. "Whatever you like best."
"Come on, you've gotta help me choose if you're gonna be here."
"I thought I'm not supposed to see the dress until that night," he asked.
"It's not a wedding dress," I laughed. "When that happens, you'll be in seclusion, trust me."
"When what happens?"
"When I'm picking out my wedding dre - " I stopped short, realizing this was fast becoming an uncomfortable conversation. "You know, one day.... when... I... when I get married to whoever I end up marrying."
He nodded politely, knowing I had put my foot into my mouth but I think feeling sorry for me at the same time. "Don't do pink," he suggested. "Everyone does pink."
The shade of blue I picked wasn't the typical royal blue most girls would have chosen. I picked an elegant, navy blue dressed with a drop waist and embellished puffed sleeves. In the back, a large bow boasted itself just over the long row of buttons that cascaded down the back. The ruffles on the bottom were longer in the back than in the front, and the sweetheart neckline was perfect for showcasing a new string of pearls. Okay, it might sound like an extremely garish dress, and it was, but I promise you it was a big deal in 1989.
"And what are you gonna wear?" I asked him.
"A tux," he shrugged like I should have just known.
"Oh, wow, I didn't think that was your style at all," I smiled in surprise. But it was a pleasant surprise.
"I know I dress like a punk usually, but I clean up good," he winked.
"I know. I could see that from the dress shirt and necktie last week!"
We laughed remembering how uncomfortable he had been like that. But it was a pleasant memory in spite of that, as were the memories of all the uncomfortable moments. We had a way of finding the best in each other in those situations. My mind flashed back to the evening on his motorcycle when my hair and face became a hot mess. And then there was the beating he gave Peck and his suspension. And there were other memories. Memories that time and breakups and my father's death and all the city developers with trucks and chainsaws could never take away, no matter how many trees they knocked down or how many magical lakes they obliterated.
We stopped at the mall for our accessories. Normally I would have gotten those designer too, but I needed to seem at least somewhat normal for him. He had money but he was no rich kid like I was. He didn't have a trust fund or an inheritance to draw from. He was renting his tux from a specialty shop in the mall, just like every other boy in school, and I loved it. I loved when he made me feel normal.
He told me he picked a navy blue bow tie to match my dress, and as we walked from that shop, he held my hand almost with a death grip. I don't know - maybe he was reassuring me. Maybe he was reassuring himself. But even though we had all these fond memories, even though we were so unbelievably comfortable with each other, and even though we had an undeniable love for each other, something was off. Something was just most definitely off.
We sat in the food court, where Jeremy had arranged to meet David and Jenny. The meeting came as a surprise to me, though I was glad for it. I had gotten the feeling that Jeremy had become sort of dependent on me, and I didn't want that. But he and David had still maintained their friendship somehow - probably because Jeremy didn't hold grudges and David knew he was too big an ass to make any other friends.
Before they arrived, though, I had something I needed to get off my chest.
"Hey," I started, "About what I said earlier... about the whole wedding dress joke, I was just - "
"It's fine," he shook his head and squinted his eyes. "I know you were just playing."
"Yeah, but I wasn't trying to say I thought we were ever gonna get married or anything. I mean, not that we won't, either. I mean, truth is, I don't know! I mean who ever knows these things, you know? There is no knowing of these things and I - "
"Stop," he laughed as he placed his hand over mine. "Seriously, it's fine."
I laughed along, too, but the whole thing had gotten me thinking. "Do you think you'll ever get married?" I asked.
He shrugged when he looked me in the eye. "I don't know. I used to think I probably wouldn't."
"But you don't think so now."
"It's kind of... I don't know," he sighed. "I don't know too many people who are happily married."
As I thought I realized he was right. "Me either," I told him.
"But I could probably see myself getting married someday," he said. "But to someone I really trust, you know? Someone I love."
"Well, yeah," I smiled. "You need to love them and trust them. That's kind of how marriage works."
"I - I always assumed I'd marry you," he told me in a tone I realized meant he must have been trying to say it in for some time now.
It was no surprise to me. I think we both assumed this.
"Does it seem different now, though?" he asked.
"Does what seem different?"
"This," he asked. "Us."
"Well, yeah," I agreed. "But we've only been back at this for a little while."
"But we've known each other for years," he said. "We dated for a long time. We were each other's first loves, weren't we?"
"We were. But won't we always be?"
"Yeah. I guess."
"What do you feel when you kiss me?" I asked him.
He didn't look at me when he answered. I had a feeling he wouldn't. "I'm happy."
"Happy like, how?"
"Happy like, I'm with my best friend."
"But we're more than friends, right?"
He looked up to me then, but had no time to answer as David and Jenny approached us. They would make every conversation revolve around them and allow us no time alone. For once, I was sort of grateful.

I wore my hair sky-high like I hadn't done in years, and teased my bangs to perfection. I still wore less makeup than I had some time before, though more than I did on a regular basis now. Around my neck I wore a string of pearls my mother had given me for a birthday once, and on my feet were the most incredible pair of silver heels you'd ever seen. I was the belle of the ball. No doubt about it.
He picked me up at five in his father's car, which was a huge improvement on his own, and we made our rounds to his parents' houses before we headed to the hotel where the prom was held. For a few brief moments I kind of wished my mother had been there on this very important night, but then I remembered what an embarrassment she'd probably be. She had called me that day, I had plenty of pictures to show her, and generally I had nothing to complain about so far, so I guess mostly it didn't matter who was there that day, as long as I had my Jeremy.
The beautiful white rose on my wrist corsage matched perfectly with the boutonniere I'd bought him. He looked so sharp in his tuxedo, even sporting a fresh haircut that was a mighty improvement on his last one, and he treated me like a perfect gentleman. We found our table, danced to some Rick Springfield and Blondie, and laughed. We laughed so much. About everything.
I though I was something, but Jenny showed up looking absolutely stunning. He hair, so perfectly blonde, was cut in a simple bob and flipped over to one side. She wore a pink dress that, unlike any other in the sea of pink on the dance floor, made her look statuesque, mature, almost like a goddess. I could see why all the boys liked her, and I pulled Jeremy even closer so that he wouldn't sneak a peek. Of course he did. Everyone did.
Someone spiked the punch, but they didn't do a very good job being subtle about it. You could smell the booze from the other end of the ballroom and it was nauseating. But Allison, Charlotte, Jenny, and I sat at the table while our dates got us our drinks. It was prom night and drinking was practically mandatory.
I don't know when David became such a jock, but he wouldn't stop talking about his football scholarship. I guess he had already been accepted into some big state school, and it started a discussion about college that I had spent most of my energy avoiding.
Allison and Charlotte's dates, Kevin and Kenny, said they were both going to Florida, though different Florida colleges. Jenny and Charlotte were going to some posh women's college in New England, and Allison said it was between Northwestern and University of Chicago. Then the conversation turned to us at the end of the table. Us, the two people who wanted nothing more than to avoid all talks about the future.
Jeremy looked at me sadly, and made his announcement. "I don't think I'm going to college," he said.
All the various gasps escaped the mouths of these well-bred youngsters and Jeremy handled himself probably much better than I would have. "My dad has a friend with a business, thinks he can get me in. You know, easy work, good salary. I don't need college for that."
"What about you, Patch," Charlotte asked. As if she'd ever had any interest in me at all.
"I'm going to UCLA," I told them. "Just got accepted, actually."
"How exciting!" she screeched, and the others soon joined. But I couldn't celebrate. I'd known for almost a month now, but I couldn't celebrate. I hadn't told anyone until now. I guess I hoped I would just die before autumn came along.
"I have a friend there from Washington," I told them. "She plans to be a lawyer. I'm just going to go for the business aspect," I told them. "Since I'll be overseeing my dad's business in the future."
Jeremy sat fidgeting beside me, apparently unnerved by my words. But he had to hear them sometime. And announcing them to the table was sure a hell of a lot easier than telling him alone to his face.
Of course, this was the perfect moment for a Poison song to start playing, and everyone jumped up to dance, leaving me and Jeremy sitting dejectedly beside each other. "Dance?" I asked.
"UCLA, huh?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "Sorry. I guess I should have told you."
"You did tell me, along with everyone else at the table."
"I'm sorry, I -I just didn't know how to tell you."
"I thought you wanted to be a dancer," he said.
"That was a childish dream," I said, trying to laugh it off. "I have a business to run once I'm out of college."
"You never wanted to do that," he reminded me. "You wanted to dance."
"People don't just start dancing for a living!" I almost yelled. "Drop it, okay?"
"Don't get mad at me just because I'm reminding you of something you said you always wanted," he begged as he stood. "I'm getting another drink."
I followed him over to the punch bowl, and though I dropped the subject of me, I continued talking. "You're really not going to college?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. "Maybe if I have to. My parents want me to go, but they'll make sure I'm taken care of if I don't go, too."
"You have good parents," I told him. "You should make them proud."
"Me? Make someone proud? Please, who would be proud to claim me?"
"I'm proud!" I told him emphatically. "I'm very proud of you!"
"Not proud enough to include me in your plans," he said as he walked out the back alley door.
I followed him out, removing my heels and stepping cautiously on the gravel as I almost ran to chase him down the alley. "Stop! Where are you going?"
"Not to college, apparently," he said.
"But Jeremy," I said, approaching him and leading him to a nearby bench. "You didn't tell me that, either."
"I didn't apply for anywhere," he said, unable to look me in the eye, "Because I wanted to go wherever you went."
I wasn't expecting this. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew that this wasn't going to last. I just had a feeling, you know, like we would be breaking up. But it was too late to change my plans by then and it was too weird bringing it up with you."
I stroked the back of his neck gently as he leaned forward beside me. "You can come with me if you want," I said. "You can rent a place. We can live together."
"I'm not ready for that," he sighed. "Are you?"
"If that's what you want."
"But what do you want, Patch? What do you want? And why do you never do what you want to do?"
"I... want to make you happy."
"But what makes you happy?"
No one had ever asked me this before. I had always been happy to see others happy, but I never thought of happiness any other way.
"I want you to kiss me," I told him.
In a moment our lips clashed as they had so many dozens and hundreds and quite possibly thousands of times before. As before, we embraced, we caressed each other, we touched each other's faces, feeling every warmth, every contour, every everything that could and should be felt in a kiss like that. But there was something that I felt now that I hadn't before.
Nothing.
I felt nothing.
Our lips parted and he opened his eyes to see me. I raised my hands to my mouth in some sort of dramatic fashion, and instantly his face grew more concerned, then more assured. He was seeing what I was seeing.
"It's over, isn't it?" he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak or even breathe for a moment.
"Yeah," he sighed. "I thought it was a long time ago."
I rose from the seat and paced before him as he sat there, slowly my tears disappeared and I smiled.
"Happy, are you?" he smiled back, though his was more sarcastic.
"Yeah," I laughed. "I actually kinda am!"
He let out a chuckle, then stood with me. "Why?"
"Because you make me happy," I laughed, now almost uncontrollably so. "You make me so happy!"
I hugged him, taking him by surprise almost surely, and he hugged me back just as tight.
"There shouldn't be this much drama in a relationship," I told him. "But it's the perfect amount of drama for a friendship, wouldn't you say?"
"Did you just toss me into the friend zone?" he asked incredulously.
"Jeremy, I love you."
"I love you too, Patch," he smiled.
"Did you feel anything in that kiss?"
"I felt... weird," he said honestly. "It was definitely not normal."
"I know, right?" I took his hand and began walking back inside with him. "Isn't it awesome?"
"I've been trying to," he told me. "I've been trying to feel something more for you ever since you came back, but - "
"But it was all forced, wasn't it?"
"I'm sorry," he shrugged. "Yeah, it kinda was. I mean, I really do love you, but..."
"But love isn't enough," I said gently. "I know because I love you too. But not in that way. Not like I should love a boyfriend."
We sat back at our table, the song coming to a close. "Jeremy, we're friends. We're really great friends who used to be more than that. But something happened to us. Something happened that just kinda changed the way we look at what we need in a relationship. And even though it was something really wonderful, it makes this kind of thing difficult to maintain sometimes, which is why I guess it's rare that high school sweethearts end up getting married."
He gave me a puzzled look.
"Something happened to us," I explained. "Something good. Something great, actually!"
"What?"
I straightened his bowtie and sat back in my chair. "We grew up," I said.