Ann Arbor, Michigan, 2005

I never knew Teddy in the winter. I only knew him in the blistering shadows of the summer sun, our bodies slick from sweat. Crunching through icy snow, I wondered what  it would have been like, warm and cozy and curled up together beneath a blanket in our secret apartment. What it would have been like for Teddy to touch me as a woman, and not as the child I had been back then. 

I had no idea if he lived here anymore. Whether he was married or had children, and I told myself not to care. I wasn’t here for Teddy. I was here for Harper. 

A blast of wind whipped up and the muscles in my neck seized into an angry knot. It was a familiar and agonizing feeling that always came with brutal cold. I clenched my jaw and propelled myself forward, pulling my newsboy cap further over my ears. 

 I reached the intersection of the Diagonal Green, better known around the University of Michigan grounds as “The Diag,” and stopped. The iconic criss-cross of diagonal sidewalks snuggled between pristinely cut grass, was the epicenter of campus. The University’s most frequented libraries and halls surrounded the peripherals of the Diag. During warm weather months, the open space was flooded with students—studying, smoking, picnicking, lying on beach towels soaking up the sun, and even enjoying concerts in the evening. 

A twinge of sadness pulled at me. I could have attended school here as my parents and sister did, experiencing growing pains the more traditional way. But my need for love and attention dominated the summer of 1986, and the idea of college had been a distant one.

What would my life have been had I never met Teddy? Maybe if I had known him in the winter—when the frigid air twists your breath into icicles, when your muscles ache from the sting of the cold and it hurts to laugh, and when your skin is so chapped and scaly that no one wishes to be touched—maybe then, none of it would have happened.  

        As I crept along the sidewalk, the lingering bite of juniper gripped my tongue, and my head was pulsing with the beginnings of a gin hangover. I had been tasked by my drunk and belligerent best friend Harper to go on a cigarette run, as she sat alone back at the bar. Her marriage was a mess, and the reason I had driven back home from Chicago—to help her untangle it.  It was foolish, considering my past, to think I could help at all. My own marriage was riddled with secrets, but at least this time, it wasn’t me feeling the brunt of poor choices. 

I reached my destination and pushed through the door of the convenience store, fluorescent lights humming overhead. 

“Photograph” by Nickelback filtered softly through speakers in the ceiling. The place was empty except for a young cashier, his face pocked with acne. He was thumbing through a magazine when he acknowledged me with a nod.

I headed towards the refrigerators in the back. Once the hangovers kicked in, we were going to need some Gatorade. My legs wobbled as I passed bags of Doritos, beef jerky, and rows of candy. I was drunker than I thought. I spotted the bottles, in a rainbow of colors and flavors, packed together on the shelves behind the glass doors. In the reflection I caught a glimpse of my frosty crimson cheeks and equally red earlobes peeking out from under my hat. It was a typical heinously cold Michigan night, and I was grateful for my long down jacket. 

Bells jangled from the front of the store. I yanked the refrigerator door open and grabbed two plastic bottles—Fruit Punch and Orange. The door closed with a smack, startling me, and the image of a man appeared behind me in the glass.

My recollection was slow, the resemblance of this phantom crawling through my memories. I gasped. The blood drained from my arms, and the bottles of Gatorade tumbled to the ground. I watched in slow motion as they rolled in opposite directions. 

Teddy. He was older now, his dark hair peppered with gray, cut short and slicked back with gel. Deep lines creased the corners of his eyes. He had to be around forty years old. The last time I had seen him was back in 1990 when I was just seventeen years old.  A flannel shirt hung from his lean frame under a fleece jacket. Black jeans hugged his legs, and on his feet were Timberland boots, crusted with snow. 

I knew there was a possibility of running into him, Ann Arbor is a small college town. But my first night back? It seemed an impossible coincidence. 

“Hazel,” he whispered, and a smile spread across his face. The crooked smile that housed a thousand lies. Gooseflesh prickled my skin.

“Excuse me, Miss, I need to get in there. Do you mind?” A woman was suddenly beside me, pointing to the cooler doors.

 “Oh! Yes, sorry!” I scooped up the bottles and spun on my heels to face him.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“Shit, that’s no way to greet me, is it?”

“Sorry,” I shook my head and avoided his gaze. Greasy slices of pizza spun around lazily in their case at the front counter. “How’s it going?”

“Great, thanks for asking,” he laughed, his eyes narrowing as he moved in like a python, squeezing himself around me.

I stiffened at his touch, the heat of his fingers penetrating my jacket. Holding the Gatorade bottles tight to my chest, I tried to place space between us.  The scent of a campfire on a cool night rose from his skin. 

As I wriggled myself from him, he grinned at my unease.

“You look amazing, Hazel,” he said, holding my gaze, “what are you doing here? I heard you moved to the big city.”

He heard? From who? 

“Thanks,” I murmured, and glanced at the floor, “big jackets are always a great statement piece.”

“Well, I guess snow looks good on you. We never hung out in the winter, did we?”

“Nope, we didn’t” I replied quickly, “What are you doing in Michigan? Don’t you live in Indiana?”

He picked up a packet of Oreos and fiddled with it, turning it over and over.

“Yeah, well, I did. I came back a while ago. My job at the refinery sucked, and Indiana is fucking depressing. My folks are down in Florida, but I got my own place here a couple years ago.”

This news was not surprising. The rich kid who had never lifted a finger in his life couldn’t handle hard work. 

“Oh, I see.” 

Asking him where he lived or where he worked or anything about his life was a bad idea. I needed to get back to Harper and away from him. A sharp pain darted from the back of my head and traveled up around my ears. 

“Well, it was good to see you, I have to go now.”

I began to move past him, but he grabbed my arm. His dark eyes locked on mine, and butterflies battered their wings against my stomach. 

“Oh, come on. Come have a drink with me, just one. We can catch up. I’d love to know what you’ve been up to, and what you’re doing here now.  I still think about you, you know.”

He’s trying to pull you back to that time, don’t do it.

All signs pointed to me leaving.  I should have walked out the door. But, the thirteen-year-old girl in me was re-emerging, vulnerable and smitten. 

 “I can’t. Harper is waiting for me over at Red Hawk.”

“Harper! Aww, how’s she doing? Is that why you’re in town? She could join us! Come on, just one.”

“I don’t think so, Teddy, I really need to go. Good seeing you.” 

I set the bottles on the counter, and the cashier began ringing them up.

“Why don’t I join you guys then? Come on. I haven’t seen her in years.”

You barely knew her.

My cell phone beeped from inside my bag. I handed a ten-dollar bill to the kid at the counter and dug my phone out. I flipped it open. It was a text from Harper:

Where R U? I met this really hot guy and he’s going 2 give me a ride home. If U know what I mean :-). He’s super nice, don’t worry. He knows 1 of my friends from cheerleading from high school! Can U believe that? Anyway, thank U SOOOOO much for coming out with me tonight, but I’m going 2 get LAID!! Call me tomorrow!

As drunk as she was, it must have taken her a half hour to type all that out.  

Teddy stood close to me, his breath tickling my neck. Images of his mouth kissing my neck, my stomach, and my tiny adolescent lips generated a shiver inside me, and I shook my head. 

Fuck. Now what? 

When it came to Teddy, I never made the right decisions. My whole life had been one big consequence of those bad choices.

“Everything okay?” Teddy asked. I snapped my phone shut, and reached for my change. The cashier handed me the bag. His eyes ping-ponged between me and Teddy. 

“Yep. It’s fine, thanks. Oh, wait, shit, I’m sorry,” I looked up at the cashier, “I need two packs of Marlboro Menthols too.” 

“Menthols? Wow, that’s brutal, Hazel,” said Teddy.

“They have a minty aftertaste.” I smirked at him. 

He laughed. I paid for the cigarettes and headed for the door. Teddy pushed it open for me, a burst of frigid air knocking me backwards into his chest. He grasped my hips and gently grounded me. Visions of his rough hands tugging and pulling at my pants  spun around my head. 

Twisting away from him, I slipped from his grip. 

“So, did your plans just change?” he asked.

My car was at least ten blocks away. I was freezing, and my face felt coated in frost. Trying to focus, I shifted my weight back and forth in my boots. A police car and an ambulance came barreling our way, sirens screaming down State Street.

“Yeah, sort of. Harper decided to go get laid.”

“Good for her,” Teddy chuckled and zipped up his jacket. He nodded towards the emergency vehicles.

“That your ride coming’?”

“Ha, ha,” I said, and rolled my eyes.

“Well, then, Harper’s about to go get busy, and it’s fucking cold out here. How about we go get that drink?”