Second Hand Love
Summary: After the UA series, Gwen and Kevin run into each other and think about trying again.
Character Dynamics: Kevin, Gwen ( Gwevin )
The first mistake Gwen makes is her refusal to fill the car up. With Bellwood being 187.43 miles from her university, she had assumed that she could make the trip with a tank that was slightly less than half full on gas. If the sputtering engine and warning lights were any indication, she had apparently assumed too much.
Damn traffic.
Mortification bubbles her blood, surging to her cheeks at the present situation. She's parked on the cold shoulder of a bustling interstate, blackened snow nearly cementing the tires of her vehicle to the glazed pavement. Although the excess heat from the radiator vents through to the interior, she knows her parents have already used their extra can of gas at home to fill up Ken's sleek Christmas present, and doesn't expect that her pea coat will keep her warm for too long. Sighing in dismay, she stares down at the phone nestled in her lap, long mane dripping over her shoulder like blood. Her alphabetized contact page is open to the "K" section, a particular name that she hasn't said in over a year lit up across the touch screen. She's hesitant to tap on his name, but when sirens sound up ahead, indicating yet another car wreck, she forfeits every voice of doubt and puts the call through.
The sixth ring is cut off with a distracted 'Yeah?' accompanied by a cluster of muffled background voices. For a moment, she's offended at this blatant and agitated greeting, but then realizes that he probably didn't check his caller ID when he put the cell phone to his ear. She had planned out what she wanted to say, words that were simple and requests that weren't too pathetic. The sound of his voice, however; a velvety rumble that's slightly deeper than when he refused to tell her goodbye, is a rapture in her mind, provoking memories she had long since suppressed. Suddenly, she can't verbalize anything. All the words are stuck in her throat.
"Hey, whoever the hell this is, you better not call again if you think I—"
"Kevin." It's pathetic and lame, but the static warped sound of his name from her lips is enough to shut him up. "It's me."
"Wait, Gwen?" His end of the line suddenly goes fuzzy, as if he's switching the receiver from one ear to the other. The background noise peters out and the sound of his voice is raw, "Gwen… Is that you?"
"Yeah," she admits, nervously unlatching the seatbelt from its harness, smoothly sliding it over her chest into an idle position. The leather of her seat moans in protest as she anxiously crosses and uncrosses her legs. "It's me."
"Wow, um… hey. Hey, what have you been up to?"
While the same familiarity still exists between them, she can't help but feel awkward speaking to him like this. Throughout the past months, they've mutually kept in touch through her cousin and Julie and a few intergalactic plumber situations. No late night phone calls, missions, dates, or out of the blue visits have occurred in nearly a year. She hadn't expected some great reunion, so she's not sure why she's feeling slightly unnerved by all this.
It's been a while, she supposes.
"Oh, you know, I've never been nearly as good a driver as you."
"What? Wait, did you get into an accident? Are you alright?" The concerned tone of his abrupt conclusion that bleeds into her ear actually sounds genuine.
"I'm fine," she answers with a slight smile. "Just stranded with an empty tank. I thought that maybe, since your garage business is still running, you could give me a lift?"
There's a pause, but the familiar jingle of his keyset shatters the hesitant air. "You're back in Bellwood?"
"Yeah," she says, this confirmation knotting up emotions in her chest. "I'm staying at home for Christmas."
"Good," he mutters. She hears the engine of his car snarl, ferocious and wild as she remembers. "So, where are you pulled over at?"
"On the interstate," she informs, giving him the details as to which exit she last passed. "There's an accident up ahead, if that's helpful?"
He nearly snickers at that. "If I'm lucky, I'll only run into three on the way to get you."
This is ridiculous, she scolds herself. For the past few minutes, she's made an effort to tame her wildly thrashing heart. She can feel the blood froth in her veins, daring her to identify the sensation as giddiness. It's just Kevin. He's familiar and comfortable despite the void in their relationship. Talking to him shouldn't be this nerve wracking. Clutching the phone even tighter, she lets her eyes flutter shut as her lips bloom into a grateful smile, "Thanks for doing this for me, Kev."
She's adding this slip of the tongue to her list of ongoing mistakes of the day when his end of the line only emits silence. He stops her halfway, however, when his delayed nonchalance eases them into a conversation that almost feels natural. They talk about the year between, her first year on scholarship and his part-time, yet booming business at the garage. She's well aware that he still pockets his plumber's badge because of the last time she checked in on her communicator. His little blip in Bellwood had seemed light years away from Ben's, who was doing damage control in some star system that had recently been involved in a rare elements smuggling ring. Kevin, she noticed, usually strayed away from missions of that nature.
Informing her that he was probably ten minutes away from meeting up with her, he hung up, dismissing the year-old photo of him from her screen. Checking her call log, the sight of the duration of their conversation strikes a match against her jumbled emotions. Her entire body flushes and she's instantly reminded of the summer nights she used to keep him up with hours of small talk on the phone.
And for a moment, the tension unwinds in her chest.
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