100 Days (49 page)

A clock strikes midnight somewhere in the distance and, breathing heavily as he pulls back, Jake kisses just to the left of Aiden’s mouth. “Happy birthday, Dan,” he whispers breathlessly.

“Merry Christmas, Jake,” Aiden replies, wrapping his arms around Jake’s waist.

“Tell me something you want,” Jake says.

“What, you didn’t get me anything?” Aiden asks, and finally, Jake smiles. “There
is
something, actually.”

“Hit me.”

“I want you to
never
do that to me again.”

“I promise,” Jake says quickly, nodding wide-eyed. “What else? What else do you want?”

Considering for a moment not only the question, but also the choice before him, Aiden realizes that it isn’t a matter of caving or going with the flow anymore. With the exception of Wyoming, he’s been choosing to sit back and let things happen for far too long.

“Just you,” he says with utter conviction. “I just want you to stay with me. For good.”

Jake closes his eyes and smiles, letting his head fall back. The world is lit as if from below by the white carpeting the ground; it covers the black and gray and makes everything seem brand new. They aren’t so far from the bar that Aiden can’t hear the music; as Jake takes his hand to pull him away from the pillar, he can just hear April winding up the song that brought their love story to life.

“Come on,” Jake says, reaching for Aiden’s suitcase. “You’re shivering; let’s get inside.”

“I’m not cold,” Aiden protests, and tugs on his hand. “There’s one other thing.”

“What is it?” Jake asks.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” Aiden says. “When we get to L.A., we both get a fresh start.”

“You’re sure? About all of it?” Jake asks.

“Who says any of it has to be permanent? So we go to L.A. and make a movie about killer shrimp,” Aiden says. Jake chuckles and bites his lip. “Then maybe we end up in New York for the next thing, or Europe, or Australia. Maybe even the Steve side of Montana if we’re really lucky.”

“My own personal lumberjack? Ugh, L.A., what was I
thinking?
”

“My point is—”

“We’ll be together,” Jake softly cuts in, “so who cares where the road goes?”

“Exactly,” Aiden says.

For the moment, they don’t need any more words—that much is clear in the way Jake simply takes Aiden’s suitcase and interlaces their fingers. They walk back to the bar in silence, save for returning the Christmas wishes of the two punky girls smoking outside.

“I’m so sorry, Aiden,” Jake says outside the door. “I’m sorry I did that to you.”

“For now, just… just be with me, okay?” Aiden says, his fingers curled around the door handle.

“Okay,” Jake says. His mouth twitches into a smile, and after one last quick kiss, Aiden follows him inside.

15,703 miles

Day One Hundred: Hawaii

The moment he stepped off the plane at Kahului Airport, the island’s warm air wrapped him in a welcoming embrace, and Jake finally began to breathe freely again. Here in Hawaii, the oxygen is somehow far more plentiful than on the “mainland,” as he keeps hearing locals refer to it, and when he steps out of the Beachy Keen gift shop, he takes in a deep lungful of the fresh night air.

He drives their rental car back to the hotel at a leisurely speed; his stomach is still full almost to bursting from dinner at Mama’s Fish House, a casual yet high-end restaurant in Paia where it seemed that everything on the menu had been caught by a local that same day. Now that he has a little time and space to himself, he feels ready to begin processing everything that has passed between him and Aiden over the last twenty-four hours.

All that he can really remember, however, are flashes: the warm squeeze of Aiden’s palm, at odds with his cold fingertips as they walked back inside the Tap Root; the strangely unfamiliar sound of his own laugh when Aiden made a joke about The Cannery back home in Brunswick; the burn in his cheeks when, in their hastily procured hotel room, he studied the expressions playing on Aiden’s face as Jake showed him all his video diaries.

And the talk, that long overdue talk; hours and hours of speaking until their throats were hoarse and their mouths parched, touching and kissing for bottomless minutes in between just to let their voices rest. Spurts of sharp anger that leapt into the air and yet fizzled faster than they erupted, like fireworks that still linger in the recesses of Jake’s mind. Long ribbons of apologies and explanations unfurling, honesty pulled from them both until at long last every­thing was laid bare—their secrets, their lies and their deepest fears.

Then, this morning, his heart safely in Aiden’s hands and Aiden’s hand in his, they said goodbye to their friends and started walking. The first step felt to Jake as if it encompassed all fifteen thousand miles they’d traveled together, and so many more besides.

When he arrives at the beach where he asked Aiden to meet him, Jake takes a moment to slip off his shoes and look out at the shoreline. He can see Aiden sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, silhouetted against the water, the breeze rippling the back of his red T-shirt. Even from the back he looks peaceful, and Jake approaches slowly, the soft white sand muffling his steps.

Not wanting to startle Aiden, Jake quietly says, “Hey,” and drops onto the sand next to him. He sets down his shoes and the paper bag he’s carrying in favor of wrapping his arms around Aiden’s waist, and smiles when Aiden shifts to loop an arm around his shoulders. “What are you thinking about?”

“Fifty states in a hundred days,” Aiden replies, his tone conveying a certain amount of disbelief. “We really did it.”

“Did you think we wouldn’t?” Jake asks.

“Well, the buzzword was ‘ambitious,’ wasn’t it?” Aiden says. “But we made it.”

“Look how far we’ve come,” Jake says, his exhalation caught by the evening breeze rolling in off the ocean. “You patched things up with your dad; I finally managed to come to terms with mine; we’re going to work on a movie together… everything’s different now.”

“It is,” Aiden agrees. “Especially us. Do you…”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think any of it would have happened if we hadn’t come on this trip?”

Jake mulls it over for a few moments, casting his mind back to the day that Aiden came back to Brunswick, taller and broader and worldlier. Though it took next to no time for them to find their groove again, Jake now knows that there was a marked difference in their relationship, even though he’d denied it for so long.

“Yes,” he finally answers, looking out at the waves lapping gently at the shore. “There might have been less drama, or… maybe there would have been even more, I don’t know. But it would have happened. It was bound to, one way or another.”

“I think you’re right,” Aiden whispers, inclining his head toward Jake’s and kissing his hair.

“Do you think you would have figured out your dream if we’d stayed in Brunswick?”

“The only reason I
have
that dream is because of you,” Aiden says. “But like you said, it would have happened, one way or another. Don’t get me wrong; I still love film, and I still want to make beautiful things with you like we always talked about, but now it’s…”

“You’re the music, and I’m the pictures,” Jake finishes quietly. “I guess it just never really occurred to me that I was worthy of that.”

“There’s a reason I didn’t just turn around and head for Maine, idiot,” Aid­en says fondly. “Do you really think I would have gotten on a plane for anyone else?”

“I’m sorry for what I put you through,” Jake says quickly—he feels as if his need to apologize will never wane. After the sixth or seventh time, Aiden had begun absolving him with kisses and he does so now, craning his neck and kissing each of Jake’s lips. The warm pressure of his mouth is an intoxicating catch and release.

“I got something for you,” he blurts when they pull apart.

He’s been waiting, biding his time for the right moment, and there is no better moment than this. He inches away, sits up straight and reaches for the paper bag emblazoned with the Beachy Keen logo. Biting his lip, he pulls out the floating lantern he bought, along with a novelty lighter decorated with glazed seashells, and presents both items to Aiden. “What are these?”

“Your birthday and Christmas presents,” Jake says. “What I actually got you is still back in the RV, so these are just placeholders, I promise.”

“You got me a floating lantern?” Aiden asks, looking at Jake with so much warmth and fondness in his eyes that Jake can’t quite hold his gaze, else he’ll never be able to get out the speech he’s been preparing all day.

Gently, he takes the lantern back and sets about unfolding it. “I heard they do this on Magic Island every year,” he begins. “Thousands of people show up and light these lanterns. Some people do it to remember people who’ve passed on and some pray for their future, and then they float them out on the water. It’s—it’s silly, but…”

Jake fixates on the lantern’s waxed paper folds, as if he’s constructing some­thing far more substantial. And then Aiden’s hand finds his knee; it’s a simple touch, but a tether nonetheless.

“Last night, there was one thing I didn’t tell you about,” Jake says, hands faltering on the lantern. “I actually thought about it just before I fell asleep, and it’s been on my mind ever since.”

“Okay…”

“You never asked about what happened in South Carolina, and I was grateful for that, because even after my big drama moment in Santa Fe, I didn’t want to talk about it,” Jake admits. “I was sitting by the foun­tain thinking about Mom, and this professor came over to me. He looked like every stereotypical movie professor, you know? Tweed jacket, mus­tache, briefcase, the whole nine yards. Anyway, we got to talking, and… and he asked me to toss a coin into the fountain and make a wish. I know you’re not supposed to tell people your wishes because then they won’t come true, but I’m swearing to you right now that I will
make
this wish come true.”

“What did you wish for?” Aiden asks.

“I wished to be what you need me to be,” Jake says, twining their fingers together and looking deep into Aiden’s eyes, willing him to believe. “Aiden, what we have—what I have with you, it’s…” he trails off. “It’s beyond
anything.
I’ve never believed in not having control over what happens to me, but
you
happened, and I didn’t have any control over that at all. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and you still are, and I knew as soon as that plane took off that I was doomed because you’re
it.
You’re the end of the movie.”

Aiden blinks at him for a moment before looking up and sighing gruffly. He clears his throat and wipes his eyes, pauses for a moment, and then turns to kiss Jake.

It’s one of those kisses that makes Jake feel as if he’s drowning in Aiden, seventeen years old all over again, with his hands shaking almost uncontrollably as they tangle themselves in Aiden’s hair and hold on for dear life.
How could I have ever even tried to walk away from this?

Breathing heavily as he pulls away, Aiden says, “Jake, you’re exactly who I need you to be. Because you’re it for me, too, you know. Ever since we met.”

Though Jake’s eyes still feel raw from all the emotional purging he’s done over the past forty-eight hours, they fill with tears once more and he pitches forward to bury his face in the hollow of Aiden’s neck, fingers twisting into his shirt and clutching tightly. The sound of paper crumpling makes him pull back, sniffing harshly and laughing at Aiden’s amused smile. “Shut up,” Jake chides him, picking up the lantern and straightening a crease. As he passes it to Aiden and hands him the lighter, he says, “Make a wish.”

Aiden turns the lighter over and over between his fingers, watching Jake with a small smile, then gets to his feet, holding the lantern aloft. In the next instant it bursts into life and the faint lines etched into the paper are suddenly fully distinguishable; all around the outside of the lantern are drawings of birds and fish, musical notes and swirls, flowers and flames.

“Get up here,” Aiden says, and Jake stands to take the other side of the lantern. They hold it between them, taking the time to study the drawings in all their intricacy.

“What are you wishing for?” Jake asks, quickly adding, “Don’t tell me if it won’t come true.”

Sighing a little, Aiden answers, “I wish this trip didn’t have to end. I wish we could just stay here.”

“Well, we’ve got three days,” Jake points out. “And maybe one day we can come back.”

“One day,” Aiden says wistfully. “What about you? What’s your wish?”

“I’ve wished for enough. Besides, it’s
your
birthday.”

“It’s also Christmas,” Aiden says, stepping closer so that they have to raise the lantern over their heads. It’s beginning to tug at their hands as it fills with heat, and Jake briefly wonders what it would be like to just float away into the atmosphere, Aiden by his side and the trappings of the world left far behind. “Come on. There must be something.”

Jake looks up at the drawing nearest his fingers: a couple in a close embrace. “I wish you could’ve been my first,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth almost before he has time to realize that they are unequivocally true. “We should have been each other’s firsts.”

Smiling at him, Aiden raises his eyebrows and pushes the lantern out of Jake’s grip and into the air. They watch it rise, swaying this way and that, following the breeze on its journey skyward. Aiden’s hand finds Jake’s, and he nudges his leg. “Don’t you think it’s more important that we’re each other’s lasts?”

“You’re way too smooth for your own good, Calloway.”

Aiden hums as his knuckles drift back and forth over Jake’s leg, and even though there are thousands of miles between them and Brunswick, the distance doesn’t matter; it’s another one of those moments from Jake’s back deck, the kind that makes Jake wish life had a pause button. But the wish is fleeting. This time he’s looking ahead, seeing a life laid out before them filled to brimming with the promise of breakfasts spent kissing crumbs from fingertips, long nights devoted to burying themselves between heated skin and soft sheets and a movie library they’ll look upon fondly because it will contain every single movie they’ve watched this trip. They’ll sift through screenplays until Aiden finds the right story to tell through his music, and hop on and off planes holding hands until Jake finds the right location in which to tell it.