Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Who is that?” Charlie asked as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“Glen Powell,” I grumbled.
“And him?”
“Miles Teller.”
“Wow…” he sighed dreamily. “It really is that damn mustache, isn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes and hid a smile. It would’ve rankled more if Charlie wasn’t scooched right up against me, tucked into my side under our shared blanket.
We were off lookout duty for the day, and probably tomorrow, too, due to near-whiteout conditions throughout the mountain pass. We radioed in our weather data reports as normal, but there was no sense in being on the clock when I couldn’t see a foot past the railing.
This storm would probably go down in the record books for June snowfall, but I’d always remember it as the day Charlie and I watched a movie together for the first time.
He’d loved seeing Top Gun again, all these years later.
We’d stayed in bed all morning, snacking on popcorn and M if you would’ve stayed in Ponderosa, maybe had a family. I wonder if our paths would’ve crossed differently.”
His face grew soft and pensive.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s okay. I can’t really picture that other life.
I was very angry for a long time that I didn’t get to have it, whatever that unknown future was, but…
” he shrugged and fussed with the blanket sprawled over our laps.
“I’m not angry anymore, Reece. And I think you and I were always going to meet each other, somehow. ”
I stared at his mouth. “I think so, too,” I whispered.
Charlie eyed me as well, lingering on my shoulders and chest before he dragged his eyes away. “So,” he said, clearing his throat, “can we watch Braveheart now?”
I grinned and dug into the popcorn bowl perched on his lap. “Buckle up, baby. It’s a doozy.”
“Ican’t believe you can watch any movie you want, whenever you want. How are they all in there?” Charlie asked after we finished, pointing at my laptop suspiciously.
“Well, they aren’t like downloaded onto the computer. They’re on a streaming platform you subscribe to, or you can rent one.”
He looked at me like I’d spoken a new language. “How, though?”
“Uhh… That’s a good question. I have no idea how the internet works. Satellites, I think? It just does,” I answered, shrugging.
“Is that how the other thing you have works, too? The one that’s also a phone?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s the internet, too. It doesn’t usually work so well this far out in the middle of nowhere, but I have a signal booster and a hotspot set up, so I have internet access. Mom would’ve flipped out if I couldn’t communicate with anyone all summer.”
“I couldn’t,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, we had the radio to communicate with the ranger station and other lookouts, but otherwise we didn’t talk to anyone unless they hiked out.”
I shuddered. “I don’t know how you handled that. I’d probably go crazy without being able to talk to anyone for that long.”
“It was nice for a little while,” he answered quietly.
Time to change the subject. “It’s not just movies and shows we can find, though.
There are books, articles, and other videos people make that aren’t movies, like entertainment and funny home movies, and stuff.
You can email or message people, like sending letters through the internet,” I added, at his confused look.
“There's, well, there’s everything. It’s the internet. ”
He cocked his head. “How do you know who you’re sending messages to?”
“Well, if you know their email address or you’re friends on social media, you can message them directly. Otherwise, you look them up.”
“Social media?”
I groaned. “I’m really bad at explaining all of this. I’m sorry. It’s like, you have a page, a place that’s yours, where you can put pictures or messages, and you can interact with other people through their page.”
Charlie squinted at me. “Hmm. I think that’s enough technology for today,” he said before yawning. “And I need to go rest, anyway.”
He’d slept next to me the night before, or whatever version of sleep he was capable of, but it was clear so much time in this form wore him out.
“Okay,” I said with a stretch, feeling surprisingly exhausted myself for not moving all day. “How long will you be away?”
“Not long, I don’t think. I just need to recharge. I don’t feel time passing in the normal way when I’m like that. It’s like things just shut off. But I don’t think it’ll be long before I feel good enough to come back. Maybe tonight,” he finished hopefully.
I watched him get out of bed. “Alright. Tonight.”
Smiling warmly at me, he waved. “See you soon, Reece.”
And then he was gone, leaving me to count the seconds until he returned.
For the rest of the afternoon, I took advantage of Charlie’s absence by scrubbing myself clean with some hot water and a washcloth, and then I pulled out the shaving kit to tame my beard.
Moving in slow, practiced passes, I lathered my face up and shaved my cheeks clean, thinking about Charlie all the while.
I considered what he’d said about not missing the life he could’ve led anymore, and the way his cheeks had flushed the barest pink when we’d woken up next to each other earlier that morning, warm under the shared covers.
The dimples that’d appeared the first time he threw his head back laughing flashed through my mind, and my skin heated at the memory of how soft and inviting his lips looked when he’d sucked a bit of melted chocolate off his thumb.
Cheeks and chin done, I paused with the razor hovering over my upper lip. Tilting my head from side to side, I peered at my reflection in the small shaving kit mirror.
It really is that damn mustache, isn’t it?
Rinsing off the razor, I set it aside and picked up the trimmer instead, shaping the scraggly mess into something that made me look even grumpier than I already did. I’d never tried a mustache before, but despite it solidifying my old-man status, I didn’t hate it.
In fact, I didn’t hate the man staring back at me at all. The Thing remained quiet in confirmation.
Between all the stairs I climbed every day and the light tan I’d gained from being back out in the sun, I looked healthier than I had in years. It wasn’t just a sharper jaw and some color back in my face, though. There was almost… recognition.
Hello, old friend.
Maybe I’d avoided looking in the mirror for so long because I was afraid I wouldn’t know the person staring back at me.
Sighing, I rinsed and brushed out my new mustache, leaving it for now. I could always shave it off if I decided I didn’t like it later.
Or if Charlie doesn’t like it.
Feeling a bit raw, I called and talked with Mom for a few minutes. I texted Bobby, too, and ignored a phone call from Tate. We hadn’t spoken since the disastrous way the interview ended, and I had a feeling he was following up on that DNA sample.
I didn’t give a fuck if he had my DNA or not, but I wasn’t particularly keen on talking to the guy just yet. Besides, it’d be a while before I was back in town.
Busying myself with tidying up the cabin, I realized I was already jittery for Charlie to return. It was an odd thing, really. I wasn’t antisocial by any means, but there’d always been a limit to how much time I could spend with others, even friends and family.
And that was still true. I had time to myself when Charlie was away. I even felt like I had time to myself when he was in the same fourteen-by-fourteen-foot room with me—we worked remarkably well just existing near each other.
So when I tumbled back into bed with a huff, cabin clean and wondering what else I could do to fill the time, it hit me.
I missed him. I missed him so much; it was ridiculous for only having been apart for a few hours.
I wanted to feel him next to me again, pressed close while our chests rose and fell in sync. I wanted to watch his pupils dilate while he stared a little too long at my shirt pulled tight around my arms and pecs. I wanted Charlie.
I wanted.