Odette

5

Then

" W here are you taking me?" It's been three nights since the incident with Kyle outside of work. Gavin asked for my number that night and he's called every day since. Last night, he was even waiting for me outside the shop when I closed. He followed me home to make sure I got there safely, then he asked if he could take me out today.

It might be a bad idea, a big mistake, but I said yes. Resisting those eyes and that crooked smile is hard. Gavin is charming without even trying to be. It's no wonder the whole student body loved him all throughout school. Even though he runs with the elite, nobody ever had a bad thing to say about Gavin Vaughn.

We've had minimal interaction with each other, a few classes together, is all. But it isn't like we had group projects together, or that he ever gave me a second glance. That's probably for the best since he was with Caroline, and had he focused even a small amount of his addictive personality on me, I'd have been crushing pretty hard.

It's only been a few days and I already am. Like I'm a thirteen-year-old girl instead of an eighteen-year-old young woman about to start a life of her own.

"Watkins Glen."

"The state park?" I roll my eyes over my outfit; high-waisted yellow shorts, ivory Swiss dot blouse. At least I have Keds on, but they're white.

"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.

"I do, Gavin," I tell him, honestly. We've only spent an infinitesimal amount of time together, but he already has me curious. And a little turned on.

Okay, a lot. It was images of him that I touched myself to last night.

"Thank fuck," he mumbles, and I laugh. The conversation continues for the rest of the drive, but not with any sort of heavy subject. Gavin asks endless questions about me, from the mundane favorite color and food to things that spark more conversation, like where my love of fashion came from.

"My dad loves old movies. Musicals, specifically. I grew up watching them with him and people were different then, most dressed up every day. A causal day was still a man in a button-down and a woman in at least trousers and blouse," I explain. "While Dad would laugh at the cheesy one liners or songs, I obsessed over the fashion. Always imagining ways I could take those old pieces and wear them in a modern way."

"You're close with your parents?"

"I am. I'm an only child, so that helps. But they're also great."

"That's good. My dad is great, but my mom can be hard. She's sick a lot, depressed. With me gone for hockey so much, it puts a lot of pressure on all of us."

"I'm sorry, that must be hard."

"It is, but we manage. The time that she's feeling good makes up for the bad days."

Now it's my turn to squeeze his hand. He changes the subject again, and I let him because it's only our first date. If he doesn't feel like deep diving into his family dynamics just yet, that's okay.

The drive is another forty minutes, but the time flies with our conversations. We occasionally pause the talk to turn up the radio to sing along to some of the songs that come on. We have similar taste in music, and both sing along dramatically when Eminem's latest hit comes on. When "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera is next, he indulges me while I belt it with my chin resting on the open window.

My hair will be a windblown mass of black tangles, but the sun shining on my face and the knowledge that Gavin wears a big smile is worth it.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're tone deaf?"

"Yes," I say, snickering. "Thanks for letting me sing anyway."

"I liked your version better." He pulls my hand up to his lips and presses a sweet kiss to the inside of my wrist.

"Liar," I tell him, a little breathlessly.

"I'm a lot of things, . But that's not one of them. I promise."

"You're making me a lot of promises today, Vaughn."

"Only the ones I know I can keep, Quinn."

A picnic. Gavin has planned a picnic with views of the waterfall. Since the weather has been nice, the two-mile trail hasn't been too mucky. But whenever there was a chance I could get dirty, Gavin would either pick me up over his shoulder or tell me to hop on to his back so he could carry me through it.

He's as ridiculous as he is sweet. By the time we get to what he deems the perfect spot , my entire outfit is still pristinely clean. And he did all that while still carrying a backpack full of food and a blanket.

"You're strong," I muse, as he spreads the blanket out.

"I won't make it to the NHL any other way," he says with a shrug.

"That's the dream?"

"It's the plan."

I like his confidence. He's sure of himself but not in a cocky way that turns me off.

"Thank you," I say as I sit cross-legged on the blanket and help him unpack the food.

"You're welcome. I told you I wouldn't ruin your outfit."

"I mean, for this," I say, looking around. It's a busy day here, but that doesn't detract from the beauty of this place. The sound of the waterfall drowns out all the talking around us and I feel cocooned in an invisible bubble with just him. "It's really pretty here."

"It is," he agrees. "We used to bring my mom here for her birthday."

"Not anymore?"

"No, she doesn't like crowds so much these days."

"That must make it rough for her to go to your games."

He nods, then pulls out a few different containers: one has berries, one with cut-up vegetables, and one full of cubed cheese. "She tries pretty often, though. I wasn't sure what you liked."

He pulls a few sandwiches out next, all labeled with black marker on the baggies. His handwriting is horrific and makes me smile.

"Turkey is my favorite."

"Oh good, that one's for you then."

We eat in a comfortable silence. Gavin's bare knee rests against mine and I like the small contact of our contrasting skin. My legs are pale and smooth, while he sports a light tan and soft hair.

When we finish all the food, I crawl onto his lap and sit with my back to his chest so I can lean my head back on his shoulder and watch the water shower the rocks. It's nice, and it feels right when he wraps his arms around my midsection.

"Thank you for coming with me today," he says, and I turn my face to his.

"You're welcome." I study him as he stares back at me with a flame in his eyes. "What is this to you, Gavin?"

"It's a lot of things. A dream, a possibility. A chance to see if there's something here."

"Something more than a crush, you mean?"

"Definitely more than a crush."

"And when the summer ends?"

"That's months away. Can we see what happens between now and then?"

I should say no. It probably can't end well, after all. How could it with me in New York and him in Boston? That small two-letter word won't come, though, I can't force it out of my mouth no matter how hard I try. Because the truth is, I want to agree. I want to take it day by day and see where it goes. The chance at something is better than the guarantee of nothing.

Right?

"Kiss me, Vaughn, and let's see what happens."