Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“You’re quiet this morning,” Eric remarks while cooking bacon and eggs inside the trailer’s kitchen. “Everything alright?”
I suppress a yawn. “Just a little tired still, that’s all.”
“Didn’t sleep well? Was the bed uncomfortable?”
“No,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“First night’s tough sometimes. We don’t have to go on that hike today. Would you rather just chill around camp? Maybe go back to sleep? Recharge? This is your vacation after all.”
Eric’s suggestion fills me with guilt. As much as I appreciate his concern, I can’t admit what caused me to toss and turn all night long: lingering thoughts of him and our relationship.
“I just need coffee,” I grunt, no better than a zombie.
Eric pours me a cup, and I forgo adding cream, needing something stronger to bring me online. The moment coffee slides down my throat, warmth spreads through my chest. The cogs and gears in my brain start to turn again from the bitter taste.
When I’ve had a healthy dose of coffee and a few bites from breakfast, I can string more than a handful of words together. “I can’t wait to see the falls. You said the view’s incredible.”
“It’s absolutely worth the hike.”
“Then let’s stick to the original plan. Show me what’s special about this place.”
After breakfast, Eric and I clean up and make the lunch we’ll share at the falls. With our gear packed, we head for the trail with Eric leading the way as our guide. I follow, only a step behind, keeping his pace.
Walking on the forest trail reminds me of scenes from my favorite fantasy novels.
Characters trekking through vast wilderness to reach some far off destination, seeking something of great power.
Eric and I may wear armor professionally for our careers, but we aren’t fantasy heroes on some grand quest. Though, the way Eric described the falls, maybe it isn’t power we seek, but something of great significance—a scenic view.
It’s just Eric and I on the trail. Our footfalls against dirt, accompanied by the occasional call of birdsong. Sure, sometimes we pass other hikers making their way down, but it’s a brief passing, nothing more than a smile and a friendly wave before we all go our separate ways.
We take the hike at our own pace. There’s no pressure, no hurry, no outside demands.
The weather is pleasant, if a little humid and misty thanks to low, patchy fog.
Eric assures me it’ll clear before we reach the falls, but I don’t mind.
This is what you can expect of the Pacific Northwest, a temperate rainforest. There’s so much lush greenery all around us, with tall trees that pierce the sky, low, dense shrubbery, and the occasional patch of mushrooms. I half-expect to find a cryptid or some mystical creature wandering these woods, evading the eyes of wayward travelers.
Countless poets and philosophers have attested to man’s primal need to get back in touch with nature, to resist the trappings of modern life, and now I understand with deeper clarity why my father loves to spend so much time at Walden Pond back in Massachusetts.
The enchantment, the mystery, the beauty—no wonder nature inspires his poetry.
What do other people think when they look at Eric and I in passing?
Do they overhear snippets of our conversation and hear the joy in our voices?
The sound of my laughter after Eric says a clever joke or a ridiculous pun?
Does my affection for his charms radiate off me in waves?
Do they wonder if we’re a couple enjoying a getaway together?
Do we give off that energy? Or is this connection between us nothing more than a facade, something I’ve tricked myself into seeing within reflections?
The same internal conflict which kept me up all night rears its hideous head.
Tell him, roll the dice; say nothing, continue marching forward.
On and on, a constant battle, an ouroboros eating itself, consuming everything, dampening what should be a peaceful hike on a peaceful morning in peaceful wilderness.
By the time we reach the end of the hike, the clouds have parted and the sun rests high in the sky.
Steep waterfalls cascade down the mountainside, their roar deafening and powerful.
Flowing water crashes against drenched rocks and tumbles over each tier, falling to foamy shallows below.
Sunlight filters through the mist, creating an ethereal rainbow.
Miles upon miles of rugged wilderness, from towering trees to rock formations to distant mountains, all juxtaposed by a blue sky with stray streaks of clouds.
You could almost believe we’re in the middle of nowhere, but we’re only a few hours from the heart of bustling Seattle.
“So, did it live up to the hype?” Eric teases as he leans against the lookout’s wooden railing.
“It’s incredible! Like being inside a postcard.”
A view like this would floor my dad if he were here.
He would pull out the little leatherbound journal he keeps with him at all times, and he’d take note of everything around him.
Sights, sounds, smells. He’d even jot down the texture of the railing’s weathered wood and the carvings dug into the picnic tables.
I’m not sure how he’d account for taste among the five senses, but I’m sure my dad would find a way to get creative.
And then when he was home, he’d write poem after poem about everything he experienced, even the oft-overlooked details.
My dad will have to accept the next best thing: pictures. Even Braydan and Kaori urged me to take some, so I pull out my phone and take several, trying my best to capture the experience in a fixed moment in time.
“Want to take a few pictures of us together?” Eric asks, touching my shoulder.
I glance away from my phone. “Sure.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to make myself presentable.
“You look great,” Eric insists, making me blush.
With the rushing falls in the background, Eric and I pose for a series of pictures.
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer so we both fit into the tight frame.
Pressed into his side, I smile for the camera, hoping it will capture a fraction of my joy.
We take several, even a few with goofy faces.
“Those’ll be great to send to the folks.”
If Eric sends them to his parents, no doubt they’ll ask who he’s with in the photos unless they’re already aware.
“Did you tell them I’ve been staying with you?”
“I did. I hope that’s alright?”
“Sure, yeah, of course.”
What did Eric say when he mentioned it? Was it in casual passing? Or did he deliberately call to let them know he would be busy for the summer with me?
Even though we’ve finished taking pictures, Eric hasn’t let go of me, so our bodies remain close, his head tilted toward mine.
The mid-day sun makes his green eyes brighter, rivaling the vibrant flora all around us.
In the middle of breathtaking nature, Eric isn’t focused on the view.
He isn’t pulling away to move on to the next part of our hike.
Out here on the lookout, we could be the last two men on earth.
It’s as if I’m all that matters, the universe narrowed to a singular breadth of time.
Being beside him feels right, as if it’s the one true place where I belong. I never want to leave his side. Eric’s eyes drift down to my lips, and this time, there’s no… there’s no mistaking his intentions.
Still, there’s a sliver of hesitation, an unspoken question hanging between us holding him back.
Is he as nervous as I am to take this leap?
He must, for his heart pounds beneath my palm when I splay my fingers against his chest. I lean closer, yearning for him to take the chance, to make the move and make my dreams come true.
Kiss me, a voice pleads in my head. Please, kiss me.
And just when I’m certain Eric’s about to close the gap, several loud voices come from below the lookout causing us both to stop short of what we both desire.
“What’s it going to take for me to be able to kiss you?” Eric groans.
The words enter my skull, but they don’t properly process. Eric’s been… He’s been trying to kiss me? Since when? He’s talking about me, right?
Eric steps back right as two exhausted parents and three rambunctious young children appear at the top of the trail. He drags a hand across his face and sighs.
“Let’s just have our picnic,” Eric suggests, dejected. It’s a safe segue to relieve some of the building pressure.
Food is the last thing on my mind, but I follow Eric on auto-pilot to one of the more isolated picnic tables. While Eric unpacks our lunch, my emotions catch up to the present. I grab Eric’s arm, needing something solid to ground myself before uttering a question I never thought I would ask.
“You… You’ve been trying to kiss me?”
Eric pushes a loose strand of hair out of my face. “Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, breathless. If the other hikers weren’t nearby, I would have shouted my answer loud enough it would echo.
This new information has changed my entire worldview. There’s now a before and an after in my life defined by the fact Eric wants to kiss me—something I used to believe would never be possible. Now, after craving it for so long... How am I supposed to behave like a normal human being?
The arrival of more hikers to the lookout brings me back down to earth. In some ways, I’m grateful the family loudly announced their presence and stopped whatever was about to unfold between us. Out here, we may be just Eric and James to each other, but someone else might have recognized us.