After the Storm

Chapter Twenty-Four

No. It was fine. I had to believe that. Taylor was my friend that I was in love with and all I wanted to do was keep up with his new life in Toronto.

And boy, what a life it looked like.

When you've spent your life in Winnipeg, you can't help but feel like Toronto is the ultimate city. The dream city. From a global perspective, Toronto was the heart of Canada. Everything seemed bigger and better there.

And that applied to their hockey team. The good people of Toronto seemed to go absolutely wild for their Saints. See, the Storm also has fans, for sure (Exhibit A: my father). But there's a difference between the fans. Winnipeg fans seem to go to the games and watch them on TV for lack of other entertainment options. I'm not kidding. If you want a night of entertainment, catch a Storm game. Of course, the fans cheer for the team, but they don't live for the team (Exception: my father). Not like the Saints fans do. Those fans are fans of the team because of pure passion. Because they bleed hockey and love their city and anyone who represents their city.

Taylor included.

Why wouldn't they? Love him, I mean. In the three weeks that he's played for the Saints, he's been the team's best player, putting up crazy points and scoring huge goals.

Sometimes I'd scroll through fan Twitter accounts or read the comments on Taylor's interviews and see that people are branding him their saviour, claiming that they'd donate their left kidney to him if he needed it.

Good to know that was covered in case it did happen.

Here's something else I should mention. I've found myself thinking a lot about Taylor. Like a lot, a lot. Like right now, when I should be typing up my lecture notes from this morning's History of Psychology class.

Not my fault the material couldn't keep my Taylor-centric thoughts at bay.

My phone, which was sitting next to me on my bed playing white noise, dinged with an incoming text message.

Speak of the devil.

Taylor: Don't think I've forgotten about you coming to visit me next week.

Taylor: Also, hey. :)

Camille: I know you haven't forgotten. You only mention it every time we talk. And hey yourself.

Taylor: If someone would just let me buy their plane ticket, then this could've been over with a long time ago.

This guy never failed to mention this, did he? I knew his yearly salary was 700 thousand, Canadian (and that was the league minimum!) but I just didn't feel right letting him pay for my flight. Because cross-Canada flights were ridiculously expensive, though, I wanted to wait to see if the prices would go down closer to the date. Joke was on me, because I was still looking somewhere around five hundred bucks for the round trip.

Camille: Don't worry about it. I can cover it. It'll be like a pre-graduation present for myself. Does next Friday still work?

Although I'm off the entire week, the team won't get back from a road trip until Thursday. It actually worked out for me, because I could spend the weekdays doing my schoolwork and then fly our Friday morning and return Sunday.

Taylor: Yeah!

Taylor: Everything going okay?

Camille: Yeah, just studying. How about you?

Taylor: Okay, just playing hockey.

Camille: Right. I forgot about that.

Taylor: I was looking forward to seeing you.