Ice: Part I Read online

  Mrs. Richards patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Are you okay hunny?” she asked concerned.

  Ice put on a big smile. “Of course, ma’am, I just haven’t seen you in a while.”

  That put a smile on Mrs. Richards face and gained chuckles from Mr. Richards.

  “Of course, you miss us hunny, who wouldn’t?” Mrs. Richards asked rhetorically. She smiled at her husband as they made their way to the dining room.

  This left Ice with Michael, the beautiful Michael. His beautiful rich dark skin seemed to be without pores. He was tall and muscular. His head was a perfect oval. Strong jawline, sparkling white teeth, deep-set almond shaped light brown eyes. His hair was always in cut short, his shape up without flaws. His lips were full and soft, with a hint of the tiniest mustache above it. He liked it. Said it gave him a sophisticated air, and it sure did.

  Michael Richards was pure perfection. Dating him, being practically engaged to him, made her feel like a fraud. Yes, on the outside, Ice’s family and wealth and history was the perfect match for the Richards and their son. Keep good honest black money, with good honest black people, Mr. Richards always joked. But inside, Ice just knew she could never measure up. She might be attracted to him, she would be blind not to, but past that, he was hard to be around.

  Michael flashed his dazzling. “Gorgeous as usual.” He took her hand and kissed it softly.

  “Good evening Michael.” Ice responded softly. She made sure she gave off the air of innocence he loved so much. He liked his women docile, calm, virgin. Ice fit the bill.

  Somewhat.

  She really wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and give him a big hug. She wanted to kiss his hand, to run her fingers over his body. She wanted to kiss him for more than a second, to make-out and struggle with the decision to have sex.

  But that was not their relationship.

  Michael did not approve of those type of things. Ice learned early on. Public display of affection was forbidden and private ones for that matter. He was a gentleman through and through. He kissed her hand. On special occasions, he gave her a peck on the lips. He held her hand when they went on dates.

  Everything else, according to him was reserved for when they were married. He was 21 and she 17. The age of consent here was 16, but it didn’t matter to him. The one time she tried to make out, he’d called her a slut. He apologized quickly after, but Ice knew her place. She’d always known her place.

  She could laugh, joke and live vicariously through the sexual escapades of her two best friends.

  “Shall we?” He asked putting his hand on the small of her back and escorting her into the dining room.

  Ice didn’t really think it was a question, more of a statement. Michael always seemed to talk in statements. She smiled and nodded.

  Ice walked timidly to the dining room and allowed Michael to seat her, and then to sit next to her. She looked up to see her father at the head of the table. For the first time that night, a genuine smile came across her face. She saw a twinkle in her father’s eyes as he looked at Michael and her. Ice rolled her eyes playfully. Her father winked at her and laughed, in that baritone voice of his. Her father was an ex-football player turned banker. He was smart, he was generous, and he was caring. Ice adored him

  Ice was itching to go hug her dad. He’d been away on a business trip for 3 days. But, she knew if she so much as made a move she would be looked down upon by Melissa. Especially since, even now she caught Melissa’s disapproving look.

  Ice realized she must have been slouching so she sat up straight and rolled her shoulders back. Melissa nodded and looked away.

  Dinner was the same as usual, her parents and the Richards talking business and bank. Her mom shooting her occasional looks of disapproval. From elbows on the table, to napkin folded wrong, to eating too much of the food on her plate, to leaning too much into Michael. Guests and dinner were always so stressful.

  Ice stared at her mom in fear. Melissa laughed and lifted up a glass of wine to Sophia Richards. She looked sincerely happy and content at the dinner table with their invited guests.

  An unexpected yawn overcame her, so Ice quickly put her hand over her mouth to stifle it.

  “Iceria dear are you sleepy?” Mr. Richard asked with a smile on his face. Her dad and Mrs. Richards smiled at her, while her mom glared.

  “No, sir, maybe just a little tired.” Ice replied looking down at her plate.

  “So how was school today?” Michael asked quietly.

  “Fine.” Ice said not making eye contact.

  Michael coughed discreetly.

  Ice realized her mistake. He hated one-word answers. She smiled at him. “It was rather interesting to say the least. Of course, Brooke is Brooke and Madison is just as sweet, while Joanna does need to keep working on her choice of vocabulary. And Peyton---.” Ice froze did she really just bring up Peyton’s name.

  “Isn’t that the troublemaker from California? That guy with the long hair?” Michael inquired.

  “Yes…. that’s him.” Ice answered softly

  Michael scoffed. “White trash. No regards for anything civil.” Michael shook his head. “Just the other month, coming home for the weekend, I saw him walking by the Romansky house, smoking with the younger son. They’re not even 21. Don’t hang around with kids like that. They bring nothing but trouble.”

  “He’s actually really nice.” Ice replied sharply.

  Her tone was so unlike her, the adults at the table stopped their brief conversation to stare at the teenage girl.

  Michael smiled. “That’s what I love about you Ice, always trying to find the good, even when there is none.” He patted her hand.

  Ice looked away, not liking the compliment. It was unsettling her. She was getting upset and she couldn’t place her finger on the exact reason why.

  Sophia Richards beamed at her son’s polite words. “We must remember that though we might be better off than most families, every human is to be treated with politeness and grace.” She nodded and turned to Melissa. “Besides, I heard through the grapevine that the Stone family might have considerable wealth. Although they seem to be adamant on concealing the fact.”

  Kevin Richards turned his head to Ice’s father. “You wouldn’t happen to know----“

  Charles shook his head. “Oh no, they don’t bank with us…but Kevin of course if they did, that is not information I would ever divulge.”

  Kevin threw his head back and laughed. “Of course, Charles, I would never ask that of you.”

  “Rich or not.” Melissa said smiling tightly at her daughter. “The young man’s infamous reputation proceeds him. Remember the Pearls daughter obsession with him last year and the embarrassing scene that dear family had to endure at the community picnic?”

  Ice lowered her eyes. Just because Teresa Pearl did not know how to break up with a guy, did not make Peyton the man-whore all the mother’s whispered he was.

  “Oh yes, dear me.” Sophia Richards touched her neck. “So young, so promiscuous…these kids nowadays.” She lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “These Caucasian kids.”

  A snicker went around the table in which Ice did not partake. Her hands were folded on her lap. Her shoulders taut with stress.

  “I’m glad Iceria would never dare to hang around those type of kids. She’s smart, a good head on her shoulder.” Melissa stared at her daughter sharply before drinking her wine.

  “That she is, and so beautiful too.” Sophia Richards beamed at Ice, whose smile wavered on her face.

  “Dinner was amazing as usual Melissa.” Mr. Richards stood, as did Ice’s father and Mrs. Richards, then Melissa and Michael. “But I feel we have overstayed our welcome.”

  Ice also got up with the smile still plastered on her face.

  “Nonsense Kevin, you guys are always welcomed.” Her mother said, in the sweet voice she used only to people she believed worthy enough.

  They all smiled at each other and slowly trickled out of the liv
ing room.

  Ice grabbed Michael’s arm to stop him from leaving. “Wait, Michael.”

  “Yes--.” As soon as he turned, Ice pressed her lips softly against his.

  Michael did not kiss her back. Instead, he pulled away. “What was that for?” He asked in concern.

  “It was…it was…just a goodnight kiss.” Ice stammered looking at the ground.

  It was nothing, nothing at all like kissing Peyton this afternoon.

  Michael shook his head. “Baby, only whores initiate kisses, I told you that.” He whispered. “Besides you’re a lady and ladies wait until they’re married before they do those kinds of things.”

  Ice closed her eyes and opened them. She smiled sadly. “Of course, I don’t know what came over me Michael, I apologize.” She whispered.

  “It’s okay sweetheart. Just don’t let it happen again.” He said bowing and kissing her hand. “I’ll call you once I get back on campus.”

  With that, he turned and left.

  Ice stood there feeling ashamed. She didn’t trust herself to touch her lips. This afternoon, she’d acted so unlike herself. She’d touched his hands, hands that had garnered her attention from day one. Hands that were long, strong. Not soft like she’d thought, slightly rough, not callused. Hands that evoked confidence, protection. She’d touched them. She’d even kissed them. Like something from her dream.

  Ice groaned and closed her eyes. Why had she acted like that? So carefree and reckless? She’d kissed his hand, and then she’d kissed him.

  She Iceria Johnson had kissed Peyton Stone and she had no regrets. None whatsoever.

  Ice ran up the stairs, went to her room and gently closed her door. She did not need another reason for her mother to yell at her.

  She plopped down on her bed and stared up at her ceiling. If she had a boyfriend like Peyton he would never tell her only whores-initiated kisses. He would probably kiss her everywhere. Her face, her neck, her breasts.

  Ice giggled and grabbed her pillow and buried her smiled in it. Of course, she could never have Peyton as a boyfriend or anything more than an acquaintance. But in her bedroom, on her bed, in the confines of her mind, she could dream.

  Pinky Promises

  (Peyton)

  It had been three days and she hadn’t talked to him once. Not a single fucking hello or anything. Peyton leaned against the wall and ran his fingers through his hair. Every time he’d try to make eye contact with her, she would avoid it. He was never one to put himself out there, but this was getting ridiculous.

  How did this work? Where did they go from here? Was she expecting him to confront her? Was he supposed to make the next move? Whatever was going to happen, he knew it would either help his chances with her or completely destroy it.

  Peyton put his hands in his pocket. Okay so he miscalculated, she had a boyfriend. He shouldn’t have touched her. It wasn’t as if she was giving out boyfriend vibes or anything. If anything, she had initiated the touches. He was following her lead. Was the kiss a surprise? Fuck yeah. Did he hate it? Fuck no. But the bigger surprise still was he was sure his Ice princess had a thing for his hands.

  He looked down at them in confusion. They looked normal to him, nothing out of the ordinary. Just regular hands. Hands that had made her kiss him.

  “Fuck.” He groaned in frustration. He was on high alert, having been blatantly ignored by Ice for a couple days had aggravated him. He wanted to brush it off. But he couldn’t. Boyfriend or not, he wanted to kiss her again. If that wasn’t an option, at least resume their friendly flirting.

  So here he was standing like a little bitch next to her car, waiting for her to get out of school.

  He’d skipped the last two classes because he just didn’t want to go. But also trying to catch Ice in the hallway might have had something to do with it.

  Peyton turned and groaned again “This is so fucking dumb.”

  He should just go it wasn’t worth it. She obviously didn’t think he was worth it. Plus, she had a boyfriend. This is why she was ignoring him. She was probably so ashamed that she kissed him while she had a boyfriend that she couldn’t stand to look at him.

  He wanted to tell her he didn’t care about that. At least tell her that much. If anything, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t.

  Peyton stopped pacing and looked at his phone. School was almost over. As much as he tried to reason and act tough, he had to admit he was terrified of Ice’s next response to him.

  Peyton ran his finger through his hair again. Blowing it away from his face, he took the rubber band off his wrist and tied his hair back.

  He rubbed his hands together feeling the nerves creep over him. He went back to the wall and took a deep breath. How hard could it possibly be to ask somebody to be your friend? Maybe he’d shot too big. Strictly friendship. He could tell her strictly friendship. Didn’t girls love that? Besides if she heard that she wouldn’t push him away.

  The bell must have rung because he saw kids bust out the front doors. Voices loud, screaming and laughing coming from every direction.

  He leaned further against the wall and put up his nonchalant posture, he realized when he did that, people were more hesitant to address him. From where he was standing, someone would have to be looking for him to find him.

  Peyton watched the teenagers trickle out, the crowd thinned some, but there was still no sign of Ice.

  Ice never stayed after school. Every day he would always see her head straight for her car, ever since 10th grade.

  “Patience Peyton.” He whispered to himself. He smiled, now he really felt like a predator awaiting his prey. He changed his posture.

  “No Brooke seriously, I’m fine, I’ll call you tonight.”

  He somehow heard her voice, before he spotted her walking with Brooke across the crosswalk.

  “Okay don’t forget to call me.” Brooke replied.

  Ice nodded and waved goodbye to Brooke who hopped into a gray van that immediately sped off in a hurry.

  He watched as Ice turned around and fetched her car keys from her back pocket. She beeped it and put her book bag in the passenger seat.

  Peyton finally stepped out from his hiding place.

  “Hey Ice.” Peyton said behind her trying to sound as casual as possible, to disguise his nervousness.

  “Oh my God---“Ice turned around with her hand to her chest. Eyes wide with fear, quickly focused on his face.

  Peyton put up his arm in surrender and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She stared at him for a bit longer before she dropped her hand from her chest. “You didn’t scare me. I just always greet people with an ‘oh my god’ and my hand to my heart.” She joked.

  Peyton smiled. “Cool.” He mentally hit himself at not being able to think of a comeback.

  “Yeah…” she trailed off biting her lip and looking down at her feet.

  That damn lip bite again.

  Peyton tried to erase it from his mind. That’s not what he was here for.

  “So how have you been?” He asked trying to go for a little conversation starter.

  Ice smiled and nodded. “Fine. Everything is good. You know life, school and all that jazz.” He heard her take a deep breath.

  He stared at her. Her smile was fake. She looked at his eyes and then looked away.

  “And you? How have you been?” she asked motioning towards him

  This was his opening.

  Peyton looked down at the ground and put on the saddest face he could muster. “Not too good you know.” He said quietly.

  He must have been a fucking good actor because she touched his arm gently and looked at him with so much concern on her face, t made him feel guilty.

  “What’s wrong?” Ice asked.

  Peyton didn’t know if she realized what she was doing. Her soft rubbing on his arm was distracting the shit out of him. How as it that a simple touch from her, sent his body reacting like he was having his very first wet dre
am. He shifted a little and resisted the urge to rub the front of his pants.

  Peyton sighed. “Well actually a couple days ago I made a complete ass of myself in front of this amazing girl and I never got the chance to apologize you know. So, I want to apologize and be friends and shit…but I don’t know…I mean I don’t know how she feels.”

  He lifted his eyes up to hers.

  “Oh.” Ice smiled softly. She let go of his arm. “Maybe you should go talk to her.”

  “I am.” Peyton stared directly at her.

  She kept smiling and looked down. He could’ve sworn she blushed. He couldn’t tell, but he was almost 100% sure. That made him smile back.