“I’m gonna need a volunteer for this,” Oakley declares gleefully. He doesn’t give anyone a chance to shoot their hand in the air. His eyes never leave Koda. “You. Yep. Come on up here and hold this tampon for me.”
Koda, having absolutely no choice unless he wants to look chickenshit in front of his friends, gets out of his seat and approaches the table Oakley is standing in front of. The teen gingerly takes the tampon between his thumb and forefinger, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Oakley pats Koda’s shoulder before clapping his hands together. “All right. First, we’re gonna use a water bottle to learn how to insert a tampon, as well as discuss the benefits and risks involved. And guys? Take notes. You never know if this will apply to your future partner or child one day.”
Wendy catches my eye from across the room, the expression on her face one I recognize well. Overwhelming love.
Oakley spends a half hour in front of the room of teens, lecturing them on proper tampon use and disposal, talking about other feminine hygiene products, and even discussing what people used to do before many of these modern conveniences were invented.
Maybe it’s not world-changing. But to a select group of seventeen-year-olds, Oakley is normalizing a conversation often avoided or treated as downright taboo, all because a young girl he loves was teased by a boy who’s never had to deal with the stigma surrounding periods.
I’ve always known Oakley to be a good person. A kind one. Strong in spirit and possessing a moral compass that’s never once failed.
But I didn’t realize until right this moment the magnitude of what that means to me.
Seeing the man stand up for my daughter as if she’s his own? Seeing him take away a bully’s power without so much as hurting an ounce of the boy’s pride?
I can’t even express the gratitude I feel for that. Forhim.
The kids attend a survival course after dinner, one of the camp employees having been booked for the group. He shows them how to start a fire, how to ensure drinking water is sanitized if you’re out in the wild, how to make a temporary shelter, even, and what to do if you find yourself lost.
By the time eleven o’clock rolls around, not a single soul complains about heading to bed. The campsite is quiet, the wind the loudest thing around as it ruffles the bushes and trees. Oakley and I head to the bathroom together, his phone lighting our way. Our noises echo in the barebones building, the sounds almost eerie.
When Oakley joins me in front of the sinks to brush his teeth, my eyes run over him. How many times have we stood like this throughout our lifetime? How is it possible to know someone so deeply, to know their ins and outs, and still be amazed by them?
Oakley’s eyes catch mine in the mirror, although it’s too dim to see the unique coloration in here. He spits out his toothpaste. “What?”
I shake my head a little. “That was really smart, what you did.”
“You think so?” he asks, sounding almost sheepish. “I thought there was a good chance you’d chew me out considering you all but told me to back off.”
“No,” I say softly, my throat tight. “That was perfect. I feel like…like I don’t have to worry quite so much when you’re around, Oak. You always make me feel safe. And you do the same for Wendy.”
Oakley turns to face me, meeting me eye to eye instead of through the glass. He’s quiet for a long beat. “I’d do anything for the two of you. You know that.”
“I do. Still surprises me sometimes to see the depth of your love.”
“Jesus,” he mutters, letting out a heavy breath. “The things that come out of your mouth sometimes.”
“Good things, I hope?”
“Honest things.” He looks as if he wants to add something else, but in the end, he only shakes his head. “C’mon. Let’s get to our tent before these mosquitos eat us alive.”
Not about to argue, I nod, and we head out of the bathroom, the wind warm yet wild as we walk the short way back to our campsite. Oakley’s phone lights our path again, but he shuts it off once we’re zipped inside our canvas shelter. There’s not much moonlight tonight, so it’s hard to see, but I can hear Oakley shuffling around like he’s getting comfortable. There’s a tightness in my chest as I lie down beside him, an emotion that feels a lot like fear rattling around in a hectic, fizzy sort of way.
“Oak,” I bring myself to say.
“Yeah?”
I pull in a small, steadying breath. “Could we… I mean, would you mind if I lie down with you tonight?”
There’s a pause, short but weighted, before Oakley speaks. “Not at all.”
Expelling the air in my lungs, I edge closer to feel out Oakley’s position. He’s lying on his back, chest bare, his skin hot to the touch as I settle against him, my head at the crook of his shoulder.
My tension abates almost instantly, muscles going lax.
Oakley’s voice is quiet. “I probably don’t smell the best.”
