Page 31 of Tempest

“I was surprised you texted,” he says.

“I should have sooner. I’ve just been busy.”

“Understandable. Honestly, I didn’t think you were going to give me a second chance,” he says. “What made you change your mind?”

“Memories,” I say. He looks confused but doesn’t ask. “Come on in, Preston.”

10

Gavin

Then

I’ve been spoiled in my life. My family, while not wealthy, has always been comfortable. My parents are kind, caring, and always treat me with the same respect they expect in return. Every dream I’ve ever had has been met by nothing but support from them. I was born with a talent I can only take so much credit for. Sure, I’ve put the work into hockey, but so much of it has come naturally.

School has never been hard. I’m not a genius, but I’m smart enough that nothing has been particularly challenging. I’m surrounded by friends and never lack for something to do or people to do it with.

All that aside, I feel like I’ve won some kind of lottery by dating Odette.

We’ve been together for weeks now. There haven’t been any labels or declarations made, but I think of her as my girlfriend. She’s mine. Just as I’m hers.

Everything about us is different than the relationship I had with Caroline. It’s exciting instead of comfortable. She makes me think differently because we’re so different and our circles have never really collided.

Each morning, I wake up eager to talk to her and antsy to see her. It’s not how I’ve ever felt about Caroline. My adoration for my ex-girlfriend slash best friend is different on every level. We grew up together, there isn’t anything we don’t know about each other.

Odette is like getting a present every day and being continually surprised by what is inside the box.

While I love that for her and I, it also makes me feel some kind of remorse for all three of us. Caroline could have had this with someone else, and Odette and I could have had this earlier.

But it is what it is, and I’m not trying to look at the past. We have big futures ahead to focus on. I want Odette to be a part of that. Besides hockey, I’ve never been so confident in anything. That’s probably stupid, we’re both so young and this has just started. But I know how I feel. Even if I’m not sure she feels the same.

We’ve gone out a lot these past weeks. I’ve taken her to dinner more nights than not, we’ve been to movies, we’ve picnicked. I can’t get her to ice-skate or hike with me; her refusal always makes me laugh because she says she’s “not that kind of girl”, as if I’m asking her to let me bang her in public or something.

Tonight, I’m going to push her boundaries some and take her camping. But, like, fancy camping. It’s only one night; she’ll survive and not hate me for it. In fact, I’m banking on her loving it.

Fuck, I hope she loves it.

“Wake up, baby. We’re here,” I say, when we finally arrive. The drive was a few hours to get just outside of the city. A hockey friend of mine lives here and he has private roof access which overlooks Manhattan across the river. I thumb her temple, and she sighs as a smile grows. She hasn’t opened her eyes yet, though. “You were sleepy.”

“Somebody has been interrupting my beauty sleep,” she says, slowly waking up and looking out the window. “Where are we?”

“Weehawken.”

“Why?” she asks, laughing. And yeah, this is why I left it as a surprise. Weehawken isn’t exactly a big destination city.

“You’ll see,” I tell her, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t judge just yet.”

“No judgment, but maybe some shock and awe,” she says. “Weehawken, New Jersey, for a date night is definitely a choice.”

“Trust me,” I say when I rush around to the passenger side and open the door for her.

“I do,” she says, her eyes shining with what I think is honesty. I stare down at her in a silent vow that I feel the same.

This isn’t something she does easily, the whole trusting someone. I caught on to that early enough. She keeps her cards close to her chest. It’s not from any past trauma, we’ve had conversations about that, and she doesn’t have any, she’s just cautious with herself. She’s a planner, things that veer away from that plan put her guard up.

Things like me. I’m chipping away at it little by little, though. Her trusting me feels like a huge step.

“Come on then,” I say, grabbing both of our overnight bags with one hand and tangling my fingers with hers to lead her into Jack’s building. It’s a walk up and she’s throwing me side eyes by the time we get to the fifth floor. Odette doesn’t voice her complaints, and again, it makes me laugh.

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