First week of March
Iplace my duffle bag into the newly renovated storage compartment under the bed in Tek’s van and push the drawer closed.
It makes the most satisfying click as it locks into place.
Then I tug down the side of the quilt and smooth it, making sure that everything inside looks just right before shutting the back door.
After checking my surfboard is secure for a final time, I jump into the passenger seat.
Tek leans forward to open the glove compartment in front of me, and asks, “Radio or DJ?”
“I’ll play DJ,” I offer, reaching for the thick wallet of CDs.
I flick through the sleeves until I settle on a 90s Alternate Rock compilation and slide it into the CD player.
We had discussed updating the dash with a WIFI smart screen, but decided a shower and solar panels were more important.
Besides, there’s something about not being connected to everything at all times that speaks to me.
It’s not even a nostalgia that I know personally.
I‘ve never even held a physical map until the one Tek ordered from arrived yesterday. And the only reason this CD case is even in the van is because we found it pre-stocked at Harry’s Hut last week.
Once we decided to take this trip, I suggested we totally disconnect, and Tek took the idea and ran with it.
It couldn’t be more perfect. Seven days driving down the coast, staying at hidden beaches where nobody knows where we are.
Not because we’re trying to hide, but because it’s our turn to run away.
No phone calls unless it’s an emergency.
No texts.
No complaints.
No worries about the shop and what other people are doing…
After spinning in the tray the CD finally registers, and Tek backs out of the driveway.
“Do you think we should detour through Main Street? Do a drive-by of the shop?”
“Hell no,” Tek scoffs. “That pair aren’t my concern.”
“You worried about witnessing a murder?”
“I’m not worried about anything.” Tek sounds confident, but I know him well enough to recognize the slight inflection in his tone. I choose not to mention it, however, because I share his apprehensions. Eden and Reeze alone together in the shop does have the potential to turn volatile.
“Do you think a week is long enough?”
Tek glances at me. “Do you think Liv will let them fight?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I think they’re gonna lose their shit when they show up at work tomorrow and she’s there.”
“That’s why we didn’t tell them.”
This whole trip was actually Liv’s idea.
Tek and I have been so entwined in all the chaos that it took someone on the outside to see the logic in allowing Eden and Reeze to sort themselves out.
No hand holding. No one with an emotional connection.
Just the two of them alone in the closed store for the first day while they set up their stations and iron out any shit still being held onto.
Then, for the rest of the week, Liv will monitor and report her findings for us to review when we return.
“They’ll be thankful on Tuesday to have her when they see how busy they are.”
Tek agrees and reaches over to squeeze my thigh.
I rub the back of his hand, and after a few seconds he takes it back to turn the corner onto Beach Road.
With the ocean to our left and the snowy buildings of Broadrock to our right, the engine settles into a steady hum as we head south.
The opening chords of ‘Sabotage’ by The Beastie Boys burst through the speakers and I watch Tek change.
It starts with the subtle nodding of his head, then, when the lyrics drop, his fingers drum the beat on the steering wheel.
By the time we reach the edge of town he’s mouthing the words perfectly, and as the song reaches its peak it’s like we’re being pulled backward through time.
After another ten minutes the winding coastal road opens up in front of us, and even though I know the sky is just as grey as it was five minutes ago, it doesn’t feel nearly as oppressive as it has all winter.
The ocean has always been the only constant in my life.
It was my younger sibling then my surrogate big brother.
My counsellor when I had questions, my teacher when I craved structure, and my temple when I needed to find purpose.
Riding a board was the only thing that ever felt like it came naturally.
On the water, or on the street, it never mattered because as long as I had the wind in my face and salt in the air I could convince myself that I was free.
Free in the way I always wanted. Free to just exist and be needed as I am.
When I’m mediocre. When I’m not the eternally grinning beach rat with a quick wit and an innuendo for every occasion.
When I wake up having accomplished nothing the day before. When my smile fades.
I longed for the freedom of knowing that, no matter what I did—good or bad— someone was actually paying attention. And that said attention wouldn’t be gone after the thrill of the chase wore off.
After searching for it in Hawaii and Indonesia, the last thing I ever expected when deciding to come back to Broadrock was to find that freedom in the arms of my brother’s best friend.
In Jeon Wootek, the out of my league, sexy as all fuck, brooding, tattoo artist grump that I started crushing on when I was fourteen, and who told me to get the fuck out of his life on the first day I arrived in town.
But the biggest surprise of all, is how much he needs me, too.
That’s the best kind of freedom.
It shits all over the sense of belonging I was hoping Eden could give me.
Having a strong, successful person lay themself out, bones and all.
To show you vulnerability. To open their heart and ask for love, and help, and support all while simultaneously showing you every single one of those things in return without you ever needing to ask first, has got to be the meaning of life…
The iconic strings of ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ by The Verve kick in and I sink lower in my seat like the chord progression is speaking to me directly.
Another fifteen seconds in and I’m compelled to lower my window and stick my arm out like a wing.
The wind beats against it, so I flatten my hand and point it forward.
In line with the water, I roll my hand up and down—the motion rippling through to my elbow—as I mimic the waves like a flying dragon.
I had tried to do the same thing when I was a kid.
I’d seen it in a movie I was far too young to see about college kids on a road trip from the seventies.
I didn’t understand the story, but I recognized the sense of independence.
Of swimming opposite to the current. Of actively rebelling against the be quiet, the leave me alone, and the don’t ask me any questions.
But all my attempt got me was a scolding by my father, and my mother passively aggressively putting the window back up with the button on her door.
That was the exact moment I realized that my role in my family was to be seen and not heard. It was the first time I was old enough to truly get the message.
But staying quiet always felt like an objection to nature.
I’m a people person. A pleaser. Desperate to show my worth.
But I’m also stubborn.
I was never going to take Tek’s no for an answer.
And when I saw that he had gone from wanting me at the shop to help out, to just wanting me there, whether I said anything, or not. That’s when I knew.
That’s when the freedom I’d been pretending for twenty-one years finally felt real…
Movement to my left pulls my attention back inside the van, and I see Tek watching me.
I lean my head back on the seat then let it fall loosely to the side as I look at him.
“What?” I ask with a soft smile.
“Nothing.” He reaches for my hand. “Am I not allowed to admire my boyfriend?”
“One must never admire in silence.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
I quirk my brow. “But we do?”
“We make perfect sense.”
“Right answer.” I lift our hands and lean in to kiss the inside of Tek’s wrist.
We continue on with no schedule, just the open road and the promise of seven days where nothing matters but us. The first of many vacations to come.
I pull out the map from the glove compartment and unfold it across my lap.
“Did you wanna try the place we went to last time?” I ask, eyeing a specific red circle on the North Oregon coast. One of many red circles amongst the highlighted routes and potential camp sites.
“Of course. That’s where I was heading anyway.”
I smile and nod to myself because I don’t think the man I met last November would have ever been able to be so romantic.
Unintentional or otherwise. Not because he didn’t have it in him, but because of how stuck he was.
How deep he was inside his own head. Decades of self doubt and trauma had him believing that he didn’t deserve happiness, and that his only role was to be there for those around him as he slowly rotted from the inside out.
It’s why his walls were so high. It’s why he refused to let anyone new in because he was already beyond the limit of what he could handle.
He’s still got a long way to go before he can fully understand just how amazing he is.
But seeing him smile, and walk around without the world on his shoulders because he’s finally starting to live his life free of guilt, is inspiring.
And I know it’s the real reason why he still hasn’t spoken to his mother since the day at the cafe.
His father has texted a few times with explanations as to why she needs more time, but I can see it in Tek’s eyes that he just doesn’t care anymore. And I’m so proud of him for it.
Mrs Jeon made me feel welcomed into what I always imagined was the dream family experience, and I’m so thankful for that. But I was never her son. And I will never be her disappointment.
I know that Jintae set down some strict ultimatums, but that’s what he needed to do.
Tek, on the other hand, needs his space, and I’ll support him through that no matter what.
If it takes him ten years to build back a relationship with his parents then I’ll be by his side every step of the way.
And if he chooses no contact, I’ll back him whole heartedly on that as well.
I learned a long time ago that I was going to have to build my own family from the ground up.
And I consider myself so lucky to have already found my forever person.
But for now, it’s just us. Me and Tek. All other spots are still open, and while Liv is pretty high on the list, Eden has a hell of a long way to go before I even consider letting him in…
“Will you let me teach you to surf next time?”
“Maybe.” Tek takes back his hand, swaps it on the wheel, then props his head against his fist as he leans his elbow on the small ledge at the base of the window.
“But I kinda like just watching you. It makes me feel special knowing you go out into this other world that I know nothing about, and you keep choosing to come back to me.”
“It’s not like I can live out there.”
“But you can choose at any time to go back to a place where it’s easier to access.”
“But I choose to be where you are.”
“And that’s why it makes me feel so special.”
I pretend to sulk. “I just thought you might like to experience it with me.”
“Do you want to learn to tattoo?”
“I get your point.”
“Just listen,” Tek smirks. “I love being a tattoo artist. I love drawing. I need to be creative. And I love that we both have different things. I want you in the shop, but I also want you to be able to get on your skateboard and fly down a hill if you’re pissed at me.
Just like I want to be able to draw some dumb shit like dicks on sharks and not open up one of my sketch books to find something you’ve drawn on one of the pages.
I don’t want us to ever compete over anything. ”
“That’s not what you said last Friday night when you insisted on armwrestling me because you wanted to top again and I wouldn’t let you.”
Tek cracks up. “I won't apologise for that.”
“I wasn’t asking for an apology.”
“So you don’t blame me for wanting to pound that ass again?”
“Oh, Oppa. I know I’m a prize catch.”
“And I do recall you screaming for more all those times in the beginning when I—”
“Okay, okay,” I laugh, finally breaking. “How about this? From now on, if you’re willing to grovel and beg on your knees for a solid ten minutes beforehand, then you can top me again.”
“Come on. That’s not fair.”
“And why not?” I ask with my best faux innocent tone.
“Because you know when I get submissive all I want is for you to fuck me into next week.”
I raise my hands and shrug. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“But that’s literally what you want me to do.”
“Are you getting hard thinking about this?” My eyes drop to Tek’s crotch.
He rearranges himself. “Not all the way, but you—”
“Know how to press my buttons?”
“I’d say you have more of a supernatural ability to find the exact button that needs fingering at any given time.”
“That sounds like something I’d say.”
“I know.” Tek glances at me from the corner of his eye and wiggles his brows.
Leaning forward, I turn down the volume. “How about this? What if, when I think you’ve been a particularly good boy, I’ll wear a plug the next day so you can—”
“Whenever I want!?” Tek’s voice cuts so excited and keen, that he does a little jump in his seat.
“Yes,” I laugh. “Whenever you want.”
“Even at work?”
“Wow.” I shake my head. “How much you’ve changed.”
“I haven’t changed at all. From the beginning I told you you could fuck someone at work, I just never mentioned that there was always a secret caveat that it could only ever be with me.”
“You’re absolutely, perfectly insane Jeon Wootek.”
“I’m your insane, Carey Novak.”
“You sure are…”
I turn the volume back up and Blur sings to us about ‘Girls & Boys’ as I watch the ocean roll past.
The road curves and dips, following the natural line of the coast. And for the rest of the trip, Tek drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console between us.
Every now and then he turns it over, palm up, and I see it as so much more than a cute invitation.
Because I know, from my perfect man of relatively few words, that it is an open promise that he’ll always be there.