Rushed(6)

"Hey Tyler?"

"Hmm?" Tyler asks, the flames still dancing in his eyes.

"Earlier, why didn't you run off to play football with the other boys? You could have, you know."

Tyler turns to me, a little smile on his face, and shakes his head. "I thought this was supposed to be a date, not a football game."

Tyler looks at me strangely for a second, then leans forward, and we kiss. It's my first kiss, so it's not like I have a lot to compare it to, but I know that his lips are soft, and it's not yucky at all. Instead, it's really nice, and I can feel my heart speeding up. I want to kiss him more, but suddenly there's a call from the other side of the fire.

"Woooo-ooo-ooo! Tyler and Pokey!"

Tyler breaks our kiss and looks embarrassed. "Shut up, Gina!"

The party wraps up after we make our desserts, and afterward, we walk back through the dark to camp, flashlights bobbing as we walk through the woods. I'm not so much surprised as happy when Tyler reaches over and holds my hand again. “Sorry about those girls."

"It's okay," I whisper, but it's not, really. I've never been all that social, and I don’t like being called out like that. "You didn't mean to."

"Actually . . . I kinda did," Tyler says with a little chuckle. "I wanted to kiss you.”

"Why?"

Tyler shrugs, and before he can answer, we both trip over a root, stumbling a bit. He grabs me, and in the darkness I can feel his hand on my chest. Chocolate and batteries, chocolate and batteries . . .

Tyler realizes where his hand is and pulls back, and suddenly it’s his turn to be tongue tied. "Ah, well, ah . . . sorry."

"It's okay," I say, taking his hand again. "You weren't trying to feel me up, right?"

"Right," he says with a soft laugh. “I don’t know, I just wanted to. I've been thinking about it, that's all."

We start back on the trail, and Tyler sounds a little sad the next time he speaks. "So tomorrow's the last day."

"Yeah. You're going back to San Diego?"

Tyler nods. "I've got football practice starting next week. You're going home too, right?"

I nod. "Yeah . . . Canada's going to feel really cold after this summer. And London's not as much fun as here."

Tyler laughs, and I know why. Mixing that you're from London, Ontario instead of London, England can be worth a joke every once in a while. "Well, maybe before you leave, you can give me your address?"

"I'd like that," I say, and as we keep walking, he takes my hand again.



"He never did write," I whisper sadly to myself, three days later sitting in the baggage terminal at the airport. I shake my head, wondering why the hell I should care. It was a long time ago, and we were kids. I wasn't good at keeping up with people either then."

I check the displays, and see that I've got a few minutes until Tyler's flight is supposed to land. I double check my little soft briefcase, making sure I have all the paperwork that I'm supposed to have. Car contract? Check. Initial apartment listings? Check. Welcome packet including the emergency numbers? Check.

I wish Mr. Larroquette had given me Tyler's phone number, some of this could have been much more easily handled that way, but he didn't. Ah well, it wasn't on the paperwork either, so maybe Tyler didn't give it to the team. I make a note to get that as soon as I can as well.

"Air Canada Flight 784 from Los Angeles now arriving," the PA system announces, and I put my stuff away. Tyler's going to be arriving soon.

I wonder if he remembers me?





Chapter 3





Tyler





The plane circles Toronto in a holding pattern, and I'm excited. Sure, I'm missing graduation, but the Dean still gave me my diploma in a private ceremony yesterday, so I guess I can still say I did graduation. Cross that off my bucket list of things to do.

More exciting though is looking down on the city. It's beautiful, and I've spent a decent part of the past few weeks looking up Toronto.

It's high tech but without the craziness of California, I read. I can check out music, sports, and it's not that far from the US, so it's not like I'll be in the boonies either.

But best of all, at least according to the things I read, is the girls. Without all the cultural hang-ups of the US, Canadian girls are supposedly more laid back and freaky, and Toronto's the freakiest of them all.

And, I hate to put it bluntly, but I’ve grown bored of fake bottle blond California girls. I know I sound like a dumbass, and not all the girls in California are like that, but for some reason that’s what I attract. I could use a change of scenery.

If the stewardess on the Air Canada flight is any example of what I can expect, I’m going to love it. She makes eyes with me as the plane descends. "Please make sure your seatbelt is fastened, sir," she says, a little purr on her use of the word sir. "I'd hate to chastise you again."

"I doubt that," I reply in a low voice, just enough she can hear. "I bet you'd like to chastise me more."

"Maybe," she says with a naughty glint to her eye telling me that I guessed right. Not my normal scene, but I'm up for some adventures. "But my Master would have issues."