Cameron's dated other girls and taken more still out for evenings that didn't really amount to anything, but it's been a long time since he's felt quite like this, if he ever has. The anticipation of getting to her door is stronger than he would have expected, though he's thought about this over and over since long before yesterday or even before Ty encouraged him to take the leap. It's just, it's Jenny. There have been other girls, special in their own ways, but none of them were her. None of them were ever really his friend beforehand, none were like her, so warm and supportive and thoughtful and clever. He's not sure if that should change how he handles things or not, or if it gives him an advantage in that he knows her better than he knew any of the rest.

She knows him, after all, better than just about anyone here other than his brother, and so the need to impress her should be diminished. He must have already done so somehow for her to return his feelings. Instead, it feels that much more important that tonight be perfect, precisely what she deserves, not just any old night with the two of them hanging out. He shows up at her door promptly at the appointed hour, neatly dressed, a small bouquet of violets in hand — not much, but fresh flowers in the winter aren't exactly easy to come by, one of the few things the island has over this. Clearing his throat and carefully readjusting his coat, he knocks at the door and waits.