He's everything I could want in a man. Not too tall. I'm only 5'2" so I don't like to feel overpowered and overshadowed by a hulking presence. Trent's 5'8", so we look cute together, not like a miniature poodle and Great Dane.
I'm sure he has other redeeming features, but they're escaping my brain currently.
Trent and I have known each other for years. We first met when we were in college, me at Boston University and him at Northeastern. Nothing but friendship happened back then, but we always stayed in casual touch.
Although there was that one drunken make-out session, where he got to second base, but that's not important. The bottom line is that when we graduated college eight years ago, we didn’t see each other in person anymore but moved our relationship over to Instagram.
When COVID hit, Trent ended up back in Boston. He’s an athletic trainer, working for the US Soccer League. His team was sidelined (well, they all were). That meant that we started hanging out, and one thing led to another.
It brought new meaning to staying in touch. We've been sort of together for over a year now.
We'd totally be together if the world were still shut down.
But now that it’s opened back up and sports have resumed, Trent's back on the road. Also, he's now based out of Maryland and working for the Baltimore Terrors soccer team.
It plain sucks.
He’s out having a real life again and I'm still here, in my apartment.
After that disastrous publication on Wattpad, I lost my writing flow, and even though story ideas plague me, when I sit down to write, nothing comes out. It's got to be because our relationship is stagnant.
Or non-existent.
I’ve decided that if I want to make this relationship work, I have to turn it into the stuff of romance novels. I need to step out of my comfort zone—which is my apartment—and do something drastic.
Trent only comes to Boston twice each season, which is dismal as soccer has a freakishly long season. We’re never going to reach the Bridgerton level of passion at this rate.
I miss him dreadfully. I mean, I miss having him here and having someone to hang out with.
Cue a grand romantic gesture.
It’s been four months since I’ve seen him. July seems like it was years ago. So, I’m going to visit him.
Get this: he has no idea I'm coming.
To be totally honest, I didn't know I was going either until I cruised the internet three days ago and found a Columbus Weekend special flight for $39 to Baltimore. How could I pass that up?
It's like the Universe is trying to reunite us. The only sign to make it clearer would be John Cusack and his boom box.
This is going to be great.
At least that's what I try to convey to my best friend Marley.
"Ophelia, are you sure?"
I want to tell her that I need support and not doubts about Trent. She says her concern is because he was a dog in college, but those days are long past. I mean, it's not reasonable to expect that he's the same person he was a decade ago. We all grow and change. It's not like I'm still trying to force boys to kiss me like I did with Bobby Daniels. I'd hate to think he still thinks I'm like that.
It's called maturity, and Trent is plenty mature.
I, on the other hand, may not be, as I stick my tongue out at my phone. Unfortunately, we're on FaceTime, so Marley sees this.
"Real nice. What was that for?"
"For doubting Trent. For doubting me. I mean, this is the kind of thing I live for. Grand romantic gestures. Flying halfway across the country to surprise him. Do you know how hard it is for me to do something like this?" I shove my makeup bag in on top of my clothes. It's a tight squeeze in my rolling carry-on. I'm not sure what he's going to want to do while I’m there, so I had to bring outfits for every possibility.
"Baltimore is hardly across the country … "
I ignore her as I shove in the new lingerie I bought from Yandy months ago. The move to online shopping has been a real boost. Never ever in a million years would I have had the nerve to go into a store and purchase a sexy little French maid costume, complete with props, but there they are, in the bottom of my bag. I try to get something new every time I see him, but this is the first time we'll be delving into role-playing if all goes according to plan. I'm ready to act out things I've only read about in some of my spicier romance novels. I’m willing to bet Trent is going to love it, so long as I don’t fall and break a leg on the stilettos I can barely walk in.
