“Marc do you really have to go?” she asked, wrapped up as tightly in my arms as she could possibly be.
“Yeah, you know that babe. Why did you have to pick Vancouver to go to school? Why not Toronto or Ottawa or something? At least that way we wouldn’t be so far apart,” I almost choked on the words. This would be the first time we’d be apart this long since we’d started dating back when we were sixteen. Three years of dating and now she’d be so far away, at UBC while I was in Sudbury playing for the Wolves again this season. In all honesty I’d hoped it would be New York this year, but I couldn’t be picky I guess. I’d just have to show them all I was ready to play the pros.
“You know I’ve always wanted to go there Marc,”
“I know, I know babe, I just hate the thought of being so far apart,” I sighed, not wanting her to feel like I was pressuring her. I wanted her to be happy, I just wanted her to be happy with me.
“I know, I do too.” She replied, before kissing me. I’d hated that she was leaving today, when I didn’t have to leave for another couple of weeks. A couple of weeks we could’ve had together without the rush and crazy schedule of my hockey team. I tightened our embrace, deepening the kiss even though we were out in public. People recognized me sometimes, asking for autographs and pictures, and while it didn’t happen often I knew that something like this wasn’t such a great idea, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to let her go, not when I knew it would mean she’d be gone until Christmas.
Apparently Ash felt the same way, her grip on me tightening, and she adjusted her seat on my lap to face me more comfortably as her fingers buried themselves in my hair, her tongue meeting mine. I don’t know how long we sat there for, long enough that a security guard at the airport came and asked us to refrain from such an outward show of affection as someone had reported us as being ‘inappropriate’. Of course Ash had immediately become embarrassed, pulling away from me and readjusting her clothes, although she hadn’t needed to. I’d behaved, keeping my hands on her back and in her hair and on the outside of her clothes.
“Well I better… oh my God,” she gasped as I picked up her suitcase for her.
“Babe what’s…” I was too afraid to finish my sentence as I saw the look on her face.
“I missed my flight,” she choked out, and I stood there, totally stunned.
“What?”
“I missed my flight,” she repeated, disbelief apparent in her voice. I checked the clock and the arrival/departure board, and felt my jaw drop as I saw it. We’d been kissing goodbye long enough that she had honestly missed the call for her flight. I looked at her before bursting out laughing. She stood there gawking at me, not sure what was wrong until I pulled her into my arms and gave her a hug to keep her tears at bay.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Babe isn’t it funny that you missed your flight because we were making out?” I asked, and minutes later she burst into laughter too, and soon people were staring at the two teenagers who were having a laughing fit in the middle of the airport.
“Okay, I’ll go see about getting you a different flight,” I told her, and made my way over to the desk. When I came back I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face.
