An End To The Distance Page 15

  Jasmine’s eyes flickered to the back window then back at Tegan with an amused expression.

  “If you think I am rolling around in that frozen ice, then you are sadly mistaken.”

  “Oh come on Jasmine! Live a little.”

  Tegan rushed to the back of the cabin and went out the back door and came back a few seconds later throwing a ball of snow that hit Jasmine in cheek.

  “Tegan one, Jasmine, zilcho. Or should I say Jasmine Dennings!?

  Jasmine slid the ice off of her face and smirked.

  “I’ll grab my boots.”

  TEGAN shamefully beat Jasmine in the snowball fight. Jasmine’s hair was soaked and her cheeks flushed from laughing so much. She wobbled back inside and replaced her wet clothes with warm ones. Settling for a mint green cashmere sweater and some dark jeans, Jasmine dried her hair as she waited by the door for Tegan. Tegan came out wearing what appeared to be another Christmas sweater that her mother had knitted for her. Jasmine put her finger over her lip and turned away so Tegan couldn’t see her laugh.

  “What?”

  Tegan asked as she picked a piece of lint off of her sweater.

  “Nothing.”

  “Anyways, I’m starving. Loser pays for breakfast.”

  Jasmine paused, grabbing her jacket off of the rack.

  “That’s not a rule.”

  “Everyone in America knows that the loser of any game has to one way or another compensate the winner.”

  “It’s a good thing we aren’t in America then.”

  By noon, Jasmine and Tegan had headed into the city to have breakfast at Bear Paw’s coffee house. Tegan sat across from Jasmine, licking her cocoa mustache while Jasmine pursed her lips trying to refrain herself from laughing by staring out the window, pretending to be fixated on the falling snow rather than the image of Tegan in her bear sweater with a mustache made of hot cocoa. Jasmine took another sip of her tea and hid her grin behind her mug. She hadn’t had this much fun in she doesn’t know how long. Tegan was infectiously sweet, (the freckles just being a bonus) beautiful, intelligent and all Jasmine’s…Except she wasn’t. Jasmine hadn’t even put a title to their relationship. Love nothing and nothing you love will get taken away from you being the aphorism she was adapting to with each day that passed. It wasn’t fair to Tegan. To lead her on and toy with the fine strings of her heart but Jasmine needed Tegan. She just didn’t know how to verbalize it. Jasmine, an English Professor couldn’t tell Tegan three very simple words.

  “Ready to go?”

  Jasmine smiled, inwardly cringing. So those weren’t the three words she meant to say but it would suffice for now.

  “Yeah. It’s Christmas Eve. What are we going to do?”

  Tegan asked as she licked her mustache clean away. Jasmine stood up, paying the tab before ushering Tegan back out into the cold.

  “Well first we need a tree. My place isn’t exactly Christmas friendly.”

  Jasmine drove up the rocky road to a forest with different variations of Christmas trees. Pulling her handbrake up, she stepped out of the car and Tegan followed her into the forest.

  “Pick one out.”

  Jasmine shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and rocked back and forth on her heels. Tegan turned to face Jasmine and grinned.

  “What makes me a dendrologist?”

  “Nothing. I just want you to feel like you’re at home.”

  “I don’t want to be at home. I don’t even want to think about home right now. This is fun, Jasmine. Just you and me. Help me pick it out.”

  Jasmine bit her lip and followed Tegan into the lit forest. Jasmine pointed ones out that almost measured up to Tegan’s height and Tegan picked out ones that would scrape the ceiling of Jasmine’s cabin. Jasmine marked her footprints in the snow as her and Tegan trudged deeper into the forest where there were less people. The good trees were always hidden in the back. Jasmine mindlessly dragged her gloved hand across trees covered in snow as her and Tegan attempted to find the perfect tree. They had settled into a comfortable silence. At least Tegan thought so. She was determined to find the perfect tree. But Jasmine was wondering if she could make it throughout the night with it just being her and Tegan. The thought of just the two of them spending Christmas together sounding heavenly but now that it was actually being put into action, everything seemed to demoralize Jasmine by the second. Tegan stopped in front of a tree and felt its branches.

  “I think this is it.”

  “The Douglas Fir. Pretty popular.”

  “Who’s the dendrologist now?”

  “Still no one. I just read the sign right here.”

  Jasmine grinned.

  “Oh.”

  “Let’s get some help.”

  An elderly man who owned the land where the trees were planted helped Jasmine tie the Christmas tree to the top of her truck. The radio announced that roads would be filled with at least three inches as night approached. Tegan looked out the window at the large ethereal view while Jasmine mindlessly tapped a tune of her own on her steering wheel with her thumbs. Jasmine drove up the hill to her cabin and Tegan helped drag the tree inside. They began decorating the tree with the ornaments Jasmine pulled out of her closet while Christmas music played faintly in the background. Nightfall was approaching and so was Christmas Day.

  AFTER the Christmas tree had colorful lights wrapped around and a sentimental ornament hanging on almost every leaf, Jasmine began cooking dinner.

  “Make yourself useful and cut up these veggies will you?”

  “Jasmine, I can do more than that.”

  “Not if you want to have a place to sleep under tonight.”

  Tegan smiled before throwing a piece of lettuce at the back of Jasmine’s head. Jasmine pulled the leaf out of a string of her hair, laughing before continuing concentrating on her cooking. Their backs faced each other; Jasmine cooking on the stove and Tegan chopping on the counter. The Christmas CD had long stopped and was replaced with a dead silence that floated between the two in the kitchen. It had been a lot of those lately; awkward moments. Tegan wasn’t really sure what they meant. She used it to strike up a topic that was remotely interesting to Jasmine while she figured Jasmine was just counting the seconds until Tegan would do so. She knew that Jasmine wasn’t a woman of many words but Tegan refused to be the first one to act on her feelings.

  “When did you learn to cook?”

  Tegan asked, after a few moments of silence.

  “My father. He taught me everything. He would obsess over the food network channels and recipe books and recreate meals. They were so good. If it wasn’t for sports I would’ve been one fat child.”

  Jasmine chuckled.

  “What makes you think I can’t cook?”

  “You drink coffee. You obviously have no taste.”

  Tegan grinned.

  “My mother is a great cook. She always prepared the big feasts on holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, even Easter.”

  Jasmine hummed in response.

  “When I was younger she would have me make the iced tea or something that didn’t involve much craftsmanship because she always complained that I was a klutz and that god forbid I would hurt myself if I even went near the stove.” Tegan laughed before gasping.

  “Mmm, ow.”

  At the sound of the knife dropping, Jasmine quickly turned around and saw Tegan holding her finger away from the food and her other hand cupping the blood the spilling out of it. Jasmine pressed her back against Tegan’s as she took Tegan’s hands into her own and pinched her finger to stop the bleeding.

  “Are you okay?”

  Jasmine’s voice was low. It tickled Tegan’s neck and ear and her body tensed and shuddered at the contact Jasmine’s chest made with her back. She did everything in her power not to lean herself against the front of Jasmine.

  “Yeah. I just had to jinx myself.”

  Tegan nervously laughed. Jasmine walked her over to the bathroom and washed her hands underneath t
he faucet before pulling out a first aid kit. Forcing Tegan to sit on the toilet, Jasmine stood over her and wrapped a bandage around her fingers before kissing it.

  “So no more chopping for you. You can pick out a wine for us downstairs.”

  “Jasmine!”

  Tegan playfully whined

  “You’re not fair.”

  “I don’t need you to lose a finger over squash. Now wine. Go get it.”

  Jasmine shooed Tegan away before returning back to the kitchen. Jasmine finished cooking with Tegan only doing little tasks such as setting the table and fetching Jasmine whatever utensil she needed to use. Once cleaning the dishes, Jasmine and Tegan continued their conversation on Jasmine’s couch. They sat across from each other with a glass of wine in each hand discussing old Christmas stories from their past. Jasmine rolled her wrist around letting the deep red Cabernet swirl around in her glass as she squinted her eyes trying to focus on the story Tegan was telling. She smiled softly at times when she thought Tegan had told the punch line but she was far from the conversation. Jasmine found herself concentrating on Tegan’s mouth; the way the she dragged her teeth across her bottom lip whenever she teased Jasmine, or how virescent and warm her eyes would turn when she stared at Jasmine without her knowledge of knowing. It sent Jasmine’s mind to a place that would make her blush in public.

  “Why are you blushing?”

  Jasmine blinked, her dilated pupils focusing back on Tegan.

  “I um,” Jasmine cleared her throat, adjusting in her seat.

  “I’ve had too much to drink.”

  Tegan arched an eyebrow. If she noticed that Jasmine hadn’t even finished her first glass of wine she didn’t say anything. She slowly continued her story wondering what was wrong with Jasmine. Was she really such a lightweight? Giving all the wine in her cabinet she that didn’t seem logical. Jasmine had been acting strange all day and Tegan wondered if she had said something that had turned her off. Tegan's thoughts, which had been swirling fervidly in her brain, went quiet immediately and she found herself torn between shock, arousal and confusion as Jasmine pressed her lips against hers.

  TWENTY THREE

  “KAT, hey Kat?”

  Kat shot her eyes opened and her heart leaped as she startled from the harsh voice that pulled her out of her dream. Hazy eyes scanned the room and she looked to find her teammate standing over her.

  “What?”

  Kat breathed.

  “I told your ass to get up half an hour ago! Breakfast.”

  “I’m coming.”

  Kat sighed and fell back into her bed once she heard the click of her hotel room door close shut. She always had pregame jitters the day of a game and they would always go away as soon as the whistle blew but the fact that Peyton would be there practically sent her into cardiac arrest. Her forehead was covered in sweat and the hotel room felt like a sauna. Kat ran her fingers through her damp hair and sighed heavily walking to the shower. She took a quick shower and by the time she got downstairs for breakfast, most of the food had become leftovers. She settled for lukewarm oatmeal and sat down at the table with Francesca and most of the veterans on her team. There was a lot of playful banter exchanged at the table as everyone was excited for the tournament but Kat drowned it out, tuning into thoughts of her own. She rested her chin into the palm of her hand while absentmindedly stabbing her oatmeal with her spoon. She didn’t get any sleep last night, she was tired, annoyed, her oatmeal was fucking cold, and the sun wasn’t out and it was all thanks to Peyton. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a strong arm grab her hand and take her into the corner of the elevator hall. Kat lazily padded her feet behind Francesca and furrowed her brows, ready to spit at her when Francesca slammed her against the wall.

  “What the hell happened to you from two days ago and now?”

  Kat rolled her eyes to the top of the ceiling and yanked her arm away from Francesca’s grip.

  “Nothing.”

  “You can say nothing all you want. You and I both know it’s something. Is it Peyton?”

  “Fuck off, Francesca. I’ll be fine before the game so take your nose out of my business.”

  Kat took the stairs up to her hotel room to avoid the awkward elevator ride with her roommate and winced when she replayed her and Francesca’s conversation in her head. She obviously didn’t deserve that but Kat needed anyone to blame. Anyone besides herself. She was stubborn that way. She sat on her hotel bedroom and scrolled through her phone, looking at her latest added contact. Peyton’s number. She smoothed her thumb across the seven digits with the sudden urge to press it but she didn’t take the risk. What would she even say? Can’t wait to see you at my game despite you hating every fiber of my being. Kat pressed her phone against her forehead and sighed.

  PEYTON mindlessly tapped her fingers against her knee as she used her left hand to stab her fork at whatever the hell she was eating in the restaurant her father picked out for his birthday.

  “This is great! Breakfast at Finland’s most famous restaurant and later great seats to a professional handball game. My birthday couldn’t have been better.”

  Jeffrey Kennedy beamed while wiping his dark mustache with his napkin. Cindy smiled at her husband while his son and daughter laughed at him. Rhian and Peyton just blinked, unaware of the current conversation. Peyton twisted her fork into her breakfast and thought about her encounter with Kat. Did Andrea really have to be so…Andrea? Inviting all of them to Kat’s game without anyone else’s say was by far the biggest mistake she could’ve made. Peyton cringed just thinking about watching Kat up and down the court for ninety-minutes. Every pass, every goal, every cheer a constant reminder of what had to take place for Kat to be playing in Finland. It was pure torture.

  “You think it might get cancelled?”

  Peyton blurted out.

  “What might get cancelled?”

  “The game.”

  “Why because of the weather? It’s inside!”

  “I certainly hope not. I was really looking forward to seeing Kat play professional ball.”

  “It’s really all the same.”

  Andrea feigned shock.

  “Is this coming for the girl who puts handball almost as close as Jesus to her heart?”

  Peyton smirked and sipped her lemon water.

  “No, I’m just saying---you’ve seen her play before. Different teams, different courts, different places. It’s the same.”

  “But it’s professional.”

  Andrea wrinkled her forehead, not fully grasping Peyton's standpoint

  “You keep saying that like it’s supposed to mean something.”

  “It does! Peyt, it’s professional! It’s not about where or who she’s playing. It’s about the good ass beer and footlong hotdogs, the children who paint their faces in their country’s colors and oh the goals!

  Peyton laughed and shoved a part of her food in her mouth, suddenly realizing her taste buds agreed with it.

  “Okay. You still haven’t proved your point.”

  “Well aren’t you at least glad to see Kat?”

  “Uh, yeah I guess. I mean---”

  Peyton shrugged her shoulders.

  “Sure.”

  Rhian had been quiet for almost all of breakfast, taking herself out the conversation to observe her younger sister. She hadn’t been sleeping well for the past couple of days due to her mind repeatedly trying to analyze from every angle why Peyton and Kat would act the way they did around each other. Theory after theory it all came down to one surmise. Rhian didn’t want to claim it. She didn’t even want to think it, fearing that if she did perhaps it would actually make it true if it weren’t already. She stared at her sister, tilting her head a little trying to figure out just when exactly did her sister become gay. Did she even become it? Was she born like that or was it just developed over time? Rhian had so many questions and she had no one to answer them it was driving her mad. Was Kat the one who made her gay? Did they---oh dear god---di
d they have sex together? Rhian nearly choked on her omelet and her face turned a rubescent shade of red when Peyton locked eyes with her as if Peyton could read her current thoughts.

  “Rhian, honey are you alright?”

  Rhian nodded and managed to get out a brief mmhmm before sipping on her water.

  “Fine.”

  She later choked out. She eased back in her chair and continued to eat her breakfast silently. Peyton decreased the furrow in her brow and turned back to her breakfast, which she was currently deciding if she should order a to-go meal. Rhian had been acting strange for the last couple of days. Was it because she said someone was hurting her? Because she wishes she could tell her sister that she was fine. That she was just heartbroken and just needed some time to heal. But no, Kat had to be a girl and Peyton had to be madly in love with her, which seems like the best kept secret as of late.

  THE head manager told Kat to take her frustration out on the balls and to go shoot rather than warm up with the team. Kat was happy to do so but the keeper rolled her eyes and winced, already feeling Kat’s powerful left foot snap her wrists in two. She had been barking at the entire team since lunch. Kat ignored everyone on the bus ride and took a seat in the very back rather than her normal seat with Francesca. Everyone decided not to pick a fight with her giving it was game day and they figured she would be out of her mood by whistle blow. Kat made shot after shot, some hitting the keepers feet for the sole purpose of Kat's pleasure and the rest easily going in. She calmed down after a couple of shots and joined her team again. They all greeted her with hesitant smiles. Kat focused. As pissed off and frustrated she was that things had not been going her way as of late, she needed to put her feelings to the side and concentrate of this match. After two hours of practicing, the team had a pep talk and headed back to their respective areas. Francesca stayed back with Kat as the team walked inside the hotel.