In The Cold Where You Left Me

Snowflakes fell on my cheeks, mixing with my tears. Behind me, Christmas lights glowed against the iced-over pavement, as the smell of whiskey and eggnog drifted from my house, seeping into the winter air. His hands cupped my face. They felt cold. And not from exposure to the Minnesota cold. No affection. No warmth. At that moment, I knew I did the right thing. I met his gaze with my own green eyes. I could stare right through his eyes because of how hollow they were. I started to question everything that happened between him and me, but I was sure there was no point in trying again. So, I said, "Ethan, we can't keep doing this!"

"I said I was sorry," he pleaded. "You're just overreacting."

My eyes boggled as if he said something so appalling. "Do you even remember what happened just minutes ago?" I asked with a finger jabbing back at my house. "You won't quit embarrassing me in front of my friends! I had enough!"

"What! What are—" Ethan stammered. He huffed as lines creased his forehead. His finger flew to his temples as if I was causing all the stress. "Kyle, you truly need to toughen up."

I gave him the deadliest look I could muster. "I am toughening up!" I shot back. "That's why I'm done. WE. ARE BREAKING. UP!"

Ethan's face fell, but his eyes kept trained on me. Something fogged the yellowish-brown color of his eyes, making them almost murky. What started to scare me was his anger kindling by the minute. "We are what?" he forced through gritted teeth.

I inhaled deeply then repeated, "We. Are breaking. Up!"

I stood there, waiting for him to lash out. I waited to feel a blow to the face. Anything. Instead, a comforting voice called out into the night.

I peered over my shoulder to see a face beaming back at me. Dyed honey-colored hair spilled a little over her shoulder, but one side was pulled back behind her right ear to show off her red teardrop earrings. A cherry red turtleneck covered her neck and hugged her small waist. A pair of black leggings and knee-high boots completed her look. I recognized her as my older sister, Tiffany. "Kyle, come back inside! It's time to unwrap your gifts!"

I knew a look of confusion crossed my face because Tiffany batted a lash with a smile. Then I realized she winked at me. That was my cue to walk away. I beelined for Tiffany, who stood at the threshold of our front door. I didn't look back until I was practically in Tiffany's arms. Ethan watched me go. Then, finally, he turned his back and shuffled off. I watched him climb into his Prius and disappear down the road until I couldn't see his lights anymore. Suddenly, that night felt much colder. I finally noticed the snowflakes mixing into the snow already on the ground; the many houses and their Christmas lights; and the feeling of my heart snapping. Just as my vision blurred, arms snaked around me, and my sister's voice hushed my cries. She didn't question me nor press. Instead, Tiffany led me back inside where a group of friendly faces waited for us in the living room.

Suddenly, everyone hushed. I wiped my face.

I told them not to ask me anything and that I was okay. When I calmed, I found my spot in the center of the room. I was surrounded by friends and family, all holding gifts and comforting smiles. I sat and listened to each of them share moments they had with me and why they bought their gifts. However, my mind drifted. Memories of me and Ethan played back like I was watching a movie. I held onto my smile just a little bit longer, so that I wouldn't cry. I really wished then that he was here, wishing a happy birthday to me. Too bad the only gift he gave was a lump in my throat and a million reasons to regret the day I met him.

**

No one tells you that relationships can be cold. It's easy to lose yourself and everything that was a part of you. It's easy to relive every moment you had with that person, but it's harder to hold onto them. Sometimes you'll never know what the next chapter looks like when the ice finally melts. For me, I didn't know what I was holding onto and what I was letting go of. I had a hard time figuring that out.

It was after New Year's and school was back in session. The campus flooded with everyday Jo's, jocks, partygoers, committees, jerks, and bad kids. I made my way through the crowd, heading straight for my room. The day just started but the sky was grey and cloudy. Snow crunched beneath my feet and the wheels of my suitcases. My breath came out a frosty white, with every breath I sucked in, which was expected in the Minnesota winter. For the year, I picked an apartment that sat in the middle of the residential side of campus. I found it frigging cool because I had the advantage of shortcuts from all angles back to the academic side of campus. I glanced down at my phone, which flashed back the email that was sent to me during winter break and my room number N-213. Now inside the building, I headed straight for the elevator. When I reached the second floor, I was already making my way down the north side. Finally, I spotted the door that read 213. I heaved a sigh of relief now that I found my room because my luggage felt like bricks. I shoved open the door, practically falling inside. What I first noticed was a familiar face peering up from the bowl of popcorn he stuck in between his arms, as our television played back the sounds of a sports tournament. His eyes smiled back a rich chocolate hue, while his soft-colored lips stretched from ear to ear. Freckles lightly littered his cheeks and his hair stuck out in short ginger curls. "Kyle!" he beamed. He ditched his popcorn to pull me into his arms and squeeze me in his bear hug that always felt homey. When he pulled back, he took a good look at me. He was studying me. Then he asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," I said.

He arched a brow. "Are you sure?" His words were cautious and soft.

I shot him a look. What are you talking about? I thought to myself. "Jacob, I'm fine," I replied, keeping my voice short.

Thankfully, Jacob took the hint and dropped whatever he was implying. "Okay, I'll take your word for it," he assured me.

The muscles in my neck and shoulders released tension, as a halfhearted smile surfaced on my lips. "Thanks," I said. I was quick to change the subject when I asked him, "How was your break? I remember you were off to Barcelona for winter break...."

"It was a trip well spent," Jacob spilled. "I visited La Sagrada Familia and the Picasso Museum. Then, I took way too many selfies at Ciutadella Park and ate more than enough Crema Catalana that might last a normal person a year. Too bad I was only there for a week. I had to come back to Minnesota to take care of my grandma. She's not doing too well these days." As soon as he mentioned his grandmother, the familiar gleam in his eyes clouded. Jacob loved his grandmother. When he lost his parents in a car accident, Jacob was the sole survivor. His grandmother was the only one willing to take Jacob under her wing. Ever since he devoted the last of his teenage years to taking care of his grandmother in her time of need. She was diagnosed with cancer after thirty-six years of smoking. Lately, as Jacob mentioned, we're starting to question the days she has left. After knowing them since my elementary years, I could say that Jacob and his grandmother were honestly the gentlest people I've ever met. So, it was troubling to know that they were hurting. I gave Jacob a comforting smile because there wasn't anything left to say. "I got you, buddy," I told him.

Somehow, that made the stupid grin reappear on his face. "You just made it awkward," he teased, making the two of us chuckle. Jacob, finally, noticed the suitcases in my hands and my guitar strapped on my back. "Let me lend you a hand..."

Normally, I would've protested, telling him that I was fine on my own. But these bags really killed my shoulders and my guitar no longer felt like one. I let Jacob take the suitcases from my hands and followed him into my room. There, Jacob dropped my cases on the carpeted floor. I watched one of his hands snake up his arm and rub deep circles into his shoulders. Eyeing me, he asked, "What the hell is in those suitcases! A body!"

I chuckled. "These are all the gifts you idiots bombarded me with on my birthday," I joshed.

Jacob daggered a finger at me. "Excuse me! That new Xbox edition and the holiday bundle were the best damn gifts I got for you."

I laughed at the earnestness hinted in his voice. Although, I had to admit. I did spend a few nights in a row on the games Jacob bought for me. Still, I'd make it a point to keep them well-hidden in a box so that they're not as distracting once classes resume. In the meantime, I smiled at Jacob and thanked him for helping me. He left my room with a "No problemo!" before leaving me to myself. I shrugged off my guitar and slumped on the edge of my bed to catch a breath. I looked around me, taking in the eggshell-colored walls and the Tim Burton-inspired decor. It wasn't long before my eyes finally found what they were searching for. They landed on a framed photo of Ethan and me. I couldn't pull myself away. I stared at it with wishful thinking. Then, my chest tightened little by little. I sucked in a breath to get the air moving again in my lungs, and to suppress the lump rising in my throat, but it was shaky. It wasn't until then that I finally peeled my eyes from the photo. That's when I noticed how cold my room felt. I noticed the frost fogging the glass on my window and the tiny snowflakes fluttering to the ground below.

I noticed how cold I felt.

**

Ethan hated my eyes.

It was weird. He'd go on a rant about green, referring to it as “the most hideous color, maybe except for its rich tones in the summer.” He'd say, "Nature is undoubtedly beautiful. The grass, the trees⁠—they're the perfect shade. Around then everything's vibrant and bright. But green is just not a good color. You can't do anything with it. Mint may be the only nice shade. You'd say emerald is a great shade, but eh. I mean I know your eyes are like emeralds but they're just boring. Too common and bland like brown eyes. Although, some can work with eyes like that. I guess everything's just not for everyone."

Ethan had a habit of ranting like that. He'd have his fit of word vomit and, somehow, it would spin into bashing me. Making me feel insecure was his favorite—like that time I spent the night with him at his father's home in Dehaven. Ethan held me tight in his arms and made me stare into his eyes only for him to say, "You should consider getting contacts."

I never wore glasses. I always had perfect vision. When Ethan told me that, I was baffled. "Why would I get contacts?" I asked him.

"Green eyes are just not you." That was all he said.

I don't know why I didn't get up and leave and delete his number. Maybe because I was far from my home in Maple Grove. Or maybe Ethan and I were well into a year of our relationship by then. I thought it'd be stupid to dump him because he hated my eyes. It hurt, yes, but didn't make sense. Whenever he'd rant about my eyes, I took it.

Still, I was taken aback when a perfect stranger in a Starbucks line on campus took the time out of his day to say, "I love your eyes."

I yanked out my headphones. "What?"

Through the shredded guitar solo and Jani Lane's heartfelt vocals in Sometimes She Cries, it sounded cheesy even if it genuinely wasn't a pickup line.

The stranger repeated himself. "I think your eyes are nice."

"Thanks..." I said in an okay-that-was-weird voice.

"Sorry," he started to clear himself, "I didn't mean to be so forward like that."

I couldn't stop the smart Alec in me. It wasn't surprising when I blurted, "Yeah, it was a bit cheeky."

Something twinkled in his eyes. Their blue color felt gravitating and warm. His brow arched as if I said something nervy. He was amused. A chuckle escaped my own lips and rang in my ear, nearly frightening me a little. The stranger didn't mind at all. That's when I noticed him. Like, really noticed.

Golden locks dangled around his face in deep waves. His complexion showed off his youth in its peachy shade. When he smiled, his eyes squinted as if they were doing all the talking. Something about him was different. I couldn't put my finger on it. Suddenly, the music on my phone was on pause and I let him give me an earful laced with dad jokes that made my day. In minutes, I learned that he was from the Golden State. He loved the beaches in Orange County and the sunny blue skies he woke up to almost every day. Jokingly, he admitted to living the typical Cali-boy life. However, he grew up with a dad who used to be a sportsman in hockey and was from Minnesota. Eventually, while most of the boys in school preferred surfing, skating, or racing in high-end sports cars, he and his old man drove to a local rank and practiced until it was time to go home. "When I turned 17," the stranger continued, "I knew for sure that I wanted to get into hockey. Like professionally. When it was time to pick colleges, I thought about getting into my dad's roots. I thought Minnesota might be a cool start."

Before we knew it, he was next in line. He politely excused himself to order a tall blonde latte with coconut milk and French vanilla syrup. A novel taste, I'll say. After him, I ordered a cappuccino with almond milk and hazelnut syrup. As we stepped aside to let the rest of the line get their orders in, he said to me, "I forgot to ask for your name."

I smiled up at him. "Will you tell me yours?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked.

So, I told him. "My name's Kyle."

"Nice to meet you, Kyle. I'm Liam."

"Nice to meet you, Liam."

"We should hang out some time," he said.

It never went unnoticed that I have a thing for guys who are bold and a bit blunt. It's like eating licorice. Depending on the guy, however, the superficial sweetness might quickly go to waste. With Liam, he didn't have that taste. He was like a pack of jolly ranchers: bright, bold, sweet, and had a variety about him. I didn't mind saying, "We should. If you mean that, want to exchange numbers?"

The grin that twinkled his perfect pink lips gave me a new feeling. I felt like a schoolboy hooked on puppy love like it was a pack of smarties. I left Starbucks with my favorite winter drink and a new number saved on my phone.