Page 15 of Tempest

“I promise you won’t get dirty.”

“How do I know I can trust you, Vaughn?”

“You think I’m taking you to Watkins Glen to what? Murder you and bury your body in one of New York’s prettiest places?”

“I mean, I deserve to be buried in a gorgeous place. But I was more concerned about my outfit. These shorts are from the 1940s.”

“Irreplaceable?” he asks me only after a moment of laughter at my obvious lack of self-preservation.

“Very,” I confirm.

“I got you,” he says, reaching a hand over to grasp my own. He twines his fingers in mine, and I feel the faint callousness, I assume from years of hauling hockey gear, taping and waxing sticks, and whatever else it is he does. I don’t know that much about the sport, to be honest.

Our joined hands don’t look as strange as it feels. Guys have never held my hand before. I’ve never been romanced. As his thumb traces a pattern on my skin, I think that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.

“Why?”

“Why will I make sure you keep your one-of-a-kind shorts clean?” He glances across the cab of his SUV at me, a little confused.

“Why me? Why now?”

Gavin squeezes my hand, not answering for a minute. The silence pricks my skin, nervous little needles poking me by the millions. It doesn’t matter what he says, this is all temporary anyway. I move to the city in a few months, and he’ll go…somewhere else. My mom would tell me to try and enjoy the moment, live without worry of what the future holds.

That’s harder to do than she makes it sound. My dreams are too big to push aside, even for a date with Gavin Vaughn.

“I don’t think there’s a way to explain without me sounding like a real douchebag, and the last thing I want is for you to think I’m an asshole.”

“You should try,” I tell him. I slide my hand from his, but he squeezes it again, halting my progress.

“Give me a chance, please?” I nod at him, and he continues after he swallows. “I love Caroline like a sister. She’s my best friend. I think I’ve known that for a long time now. But I didn’t know if she felt the same. For two years, I’ve been dreaming about breaking up with her, but I didn’t want to hurt her. Or lose her friendship. For two years, I’ve been dreaming about someone else.” He looks at me, then quickly looks away, his cheeks turning a soft rosy color.

I just made him blush.

“You’re right, that does make you sound like a creep.”

“Does it freak you out?”

“That you crushed on me for two years? No, not so much. I just feel sorry for Caroline.”

“Really?” Gavin cringes as he asks the question.

“Sure. I think I’d feel bad for anyone that thought they had someone, but that person was somewhere else, either in their mind or heart. You know?”

“That makes me feel worse,” he admits. “If it makes it any better, it turns out she more or less felt the same.”

“More or less?”

“She’s not in love with me, either. But she hasn’t been crushing on anyone all this time. I think that’s why she never broke up with me, she was…I don’t know. Content with having something over nothing.”

I can see how it would be nice to always have someone in your corner, a person to hang out with every Friday night, or whatever. I can see Caroline’s point of view, because she didn’t have anyone she wanted to be with instead. But, apparently, that isn’t Gavin’s truth.

“That’s sad, but I guess I get it.”

“Do you still want to get to know me?”

He asked me that last night, before he asked if I’d go out with him today. He’d said he wanted to know me but only if I wanted to know him, too. It was as if he was making clear that my boundaries mattered. He caught me off guard with that; teen boys don’t understand things like that. Maybe Gavin is wiser than the average jock.

Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.

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