Page 22 of The Breaking Pointe

feeling green

NOELLE

I love daydreaming, but I think I met my match. Colton.

What I’ve gathered and observed with him is that he loves to completely withdraw from reality and space out when some- thing is wrong. For example, the other day, after his episode.

He insists it was a ‘minuscule hiccup’, but from my point of view, it was anything but that. It’s painful, and every minute feels like I’m being forced to watch live torture. Watching it be experienced by him makes it all the more unsettling. He fooled me into believing he’s capable of handling pretty much anything without breaking character, but it took him exactly one day to convince me that he needs someone right now, more than ever. Some time ago, I would have been discontented by my desire to take initiative and be the person that a specific man needs, but at this moment in time, I don’t have a care. I feel compelled to bandage all of his scars, and not just literally. I think I have to agree with him about the entire denying myself pleasures thing.

I digested it as a little bit trivial when he first told me, but maybe it’s valid when you feel wanted by someone. When it doesn’t feel one-sided or as if you’re wasting your time.

Grabbing my purse from the three-pronged coat holder, I walk through the house to get to the front door, whooshing past Lauren.

“Hey, you got a package. Well, more like a gift. I think it’s from Colton. So sweet.”

She smiles, pointing to the flowers on the kitchen counter as she sits on the floor with Chucky, feeding him little treats.

Flowers. Flowers gifted to me.

Smiling bright, I march to the counter and quickly swipe the small card stuffed in the bouquet of roses and hibiscus plants. Flipping it open, I read through, feeling the hair on my arms raise as I take in the first word.

“Noelle, you beautiful girl. I need you. I need you as mine. I want to talk. Maybe dinner. Public place, just how you like. If you unblock me, we can go back to how things were before. Magic. I love you.”

Love, Daniel.

The hairs on my arms immediately drop, and the giddiness I was feeling is suddenly gone completely.

Fuck Daniel, and fuck his sorry-ass flowers.

I’d rather not waste any more time giving men like Daniel a chance to solicit me in various ways. I’m starting to feel like an old rag doll. It doesn’t stop him, though, and at this point, I wouldn’t expect it to. I’m almost positive that Daniel has never felt guilt or empathy ever in his life. He has to push every limit just to see how far he can go, and now it’s turning into harassment.

Taking the flowers, I open the trashcan with my foot and remove the nice vase, tossing every flower in the trash.

“I’ll wash this when I come home,”

I say out loud before going to the front door, resuming my mission.

“You don’t want flowers from the man you’re into? Little harsh, Elle,”

Lauren says, watching me.

“Not harsh. I don’t like him. If they were gonna be from Colton, he would’ve come in person. Whom I’m going to meet, right now, by the way,”

I say surely, serving her a quick smile as I walk out of the door”

See you later. Love you,”

I say, closing it behind me.

Off to catch my train.

Colton and I have seen each other on multiple occasions now, and whether it be wine and painting together in a park or simply sitting on his rooftop deck and looking at the starry nights in our city, every second with him is better than the previous. Each time is a chance for him to show me why I should continue gaining feelings for him the way that I am, and he’s successful in every endeavor. I’ve stopped leaving room for disappointment now that I’ve realized he strives for nothing short of the most preeminent outcomes and plans in his life. Someone like that is really hard to expect anything bad from. His loyalty and determination are unlikely to be disturbed, but it’s compulsive, in ways. I’ve never seen anybody worry as much as he does.

Yet he still minimizes everything he experiences and doesn’t know how to sympathize with himself in any form.

I’m petrified to bring up anything deep, but even more, I’m desperate to know why his relationship with his dad wasn’t prevalent, why he puts an ax through every conversation that leads to discussing his problems. Bringing it up isn’t a challenge. The challenge is that he’s a professional at deflecting and

building walls around his feelings. I believe my safest route is to not push him to trauma dump while he’s experiencing what may be his biggest loss soon—his mom. I can tell that the stove is hot, and he’s standing quite close to it. I’m not evil enough to throw grease onto the fire.

When I was a little girl, I would tiptoe a lot. Physically and metaphorically. Around my room, or around the house. Around school, or anywhere I possibly could. I took pride in being great at being quiet. When I got older and the tiptoeing wasn’t quiet enough anymore, I switched to hiding. I had to be okay with being myself.

When being myself became a burden—or rather to Daniel—- hiding became running away. At that point, I was sure I was doomed. Some days were great, while others I thought couldn’t be worse. Until another day would come and show me that it could, indeed, be worse.

As of recently, the worst hasn’t shown itself. Not with Colton around.

For years, I’ve watched my mom give my dad random sur- prises, to simply see him smile, and wondered what the cost was to have what they have.

She would, and still does, make him lunch and bring it to his job, or lay out his clothes for the next day. Sometimes it’s as small as rubbing his back after a long day. No matter what it is, the gratitude that my dad shows her in response to loving him is what taught me what love and appreciation is about in the first place. Maybe Colton and I lack the love trait, but I think I could nail the appreciation aspect.

Since his attack, I thought with everything occurring, and our schedules not lining up for the past week and some days, I would give him something that my dad gave me before I left Chicago.

Motivation tapes.

There’s ten of them, but they predate even me, so I hope he finds cassettes intriguing. I think the message at hand is what matters the most. And it’s that giving up is not an option. Neither is settling. He’s too sweet to settle for such a caged mindset. He’s trapped in his own mind half of the time, and I can’t list any reason why that would be a pleasant experience for anybody.

I even wonder if bringing up the idea of going to the meetings with me will help both of us. He’s seen things, too. It’s a space where he can be open about his trauma. If he went with me, I know for a fact I would be less scared.

We agreed for me to come to Trey’s studio after he finishes his work for the day. When I arrive, I almost have to control myself. After receiving Daniel’s awful gesture, I just need to look at Cole’s face and be reminded of what really matters. Me being horrible at hiding my excitement for anything, I pretty much bust through each set of double doors to enter the studio, submerging myself in the sound of an aggressive rock song playing loud enough to block out the sound of my entrance.

Some feet ahead of me is Colton, extending each arm firmly, affixing bare fists to a punching bag while his body glistens in the dim light above him. Fine as he may be, the heaviness of his breathing and the tone of each of his movements, the air in the room oozes with enough aggression to make the moment tense. For a second, I stand frozen in place, watching him abruptly end his session with one last punch, taking his time to catch his breath. When he does, his body turns around, almost in slow motion before he notices me, and his cold expression warms up. As it does, he quickly reaches for his phone, pausing the music”

Were you picturing the bag as someone in particular?” I ask,

crossing my arms.

“Something of that nature.”

he responds, shrugging”

I lost track of time, I’m sorry,”

he continues, walking up to me, taking over my personal space so that there’s nothing but inches between us.

“I’m early…”

my voice becomes mousy, “and you’re not wearing gloves.”

“It was an afterthought,”

he says modestly.

I raise a few fingers to touch his bare chest, still damp from him sweating. Eyeing the area behind him, I get distracted immediately by a familiarly wrapped white box.

“What about those?”

I ask, eyes still locked on the box as I feel his hand grasp mine, leading me to the bench.

“They’re new,” he says”

I thought I would upgrade.”

He smiles as if that’s a comical statement.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

I ask, finally looking at him again”

It is. It’s the first time I’ve upgraded, but not without Trey’s

enforcement.”

He chuckles.

I smile, tilting my head a little”

Can I see them?”

Colton pauses, taking in my question with a bit of hesitance then with eagerness.

“Absolutely.”

He removes the lid to the box, revealing two shimmery, green boxing gloves with golden lining.

“They’re not something I’d normally choose, but I think retiring the blue ones might be for the best. After having met this pretty incredible person, recently, I’m starting to like the color green a little more, these days—if you get what I mean,”

he says with a hint of satisfaction, looking in my direction. Our eyes meet with no delay, and without taking his eyes off of me, he takes each glove out of the box, one by one.

Green. The same green as my eyes.

“Wanna try them on?”

he questions me, pausing my thoughts when he turns to face me, holding them up.

“Okay,”

I say inaudibly, taking my bag off and placing it on the floor before carefully pushing each of my hands into both gloves, returning my gaze to his face”

Now what?”

“Try me,”

he says, smacking a firm hand against his abs as he takes a few steps back.

My eyebrows wrinkle up at that idea”

That’s not dangerous?”

I clarify.

“Elle, just try it.”

He chuckles, placing his hands on his hips while shaking his head”

Just gimme your best shot. Right here,”

he says, smacking his abs again.

Looking at the giant gloves covering my fists, I hold them up, imitating his stance with my best efforts before winding my arm back and throwing my best blow at his stomach. Right after I do, I cover my eyes, fearful of his response.

He lets out a gust of air, holding the area that I hit him, smiling as he rubs it, almost laughing.

“Alright, that answers my question. No gloves for you, Superwoman.”

His laugh finally fills the room as he pulls each glove off my hands, uncovering my face. He drops them to the side of us, then gently contains my bare hands in his, pushing them down from my face.

“Are you just saying that to appease my ego?”

I ask him”

Hey, I’m a solid guy, but I know a good punch when I feel

one.”

The amusement in his voice lingers, forcing me to smile”

Well, before we go, I brought you something,”

I state, dropping down to my bag to get all of the cassettes and my old cassette player, popping back up to his level once I’ve gathered

them”

I think you should listen to these.”

He looks at them, slowly taking them from me”

Cassettes…?”

he ponders, staring at them.

“They’re not just cassettes. They’re motivational ones,”

I say happily.

The corner of his mouth hooks into a side smile”

Okay, this isn’t ‘cause I freaked out the other day, is it? ‘Cause I swear, I’m not always unhinged—”

he starts to ramble.

“I just want to help.”

I try to imply assurance, discontinuing his worries.

He responds with a self-conscious gaze at the floor.

Signaling him to relax, I rest a hand on his, lifting his chin with my other hand”

They helped me, in the past. If you give them a chance, they might be able to help you, too.”

His eyes scan over my face before he lets out a gentle sigh”

Okay. For you.”

“No, you need to do it for you, Colton. Please?”

I squeeze his hand.

He silences himself again, but only for a moment”

Okay,”

he whispers.

“Can I suggest something else?” I ask”

What’s up?”

He looks at me.

“Those meetings that I go to. They’re…for trauma. But it’s like therapy. I thought maybe if we went together, it might help?”

I close my eyes nervously, bowing my head.

“Oh wow…uh…” He sighs”

Noelle, I don’t even do well in my own therapy. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that,”

he says, quietly.

At least he’s not judging me. That’s all I wanted, for him to not judge me.

Boosting myself up a little, I kiss his cheek”

It’s okay. It’s just a suggestion. About the tapes though, you won’t regret it.”

I smile, then take a deep breath”

Now, didn’t you say there was a vegan ice cream shop nearby? Don’t think I forgot,”

I say seriously.

A smile creeps on his face”

I did. And you have my word. Let me clean up a little and we can get out of here,”

he says, putting the tapes in his bag before picking it up.