Chapter 6
Dane
Istared out the window of the jet, watching clouds scud past thousands of feet below, heart aching, mind blank.
The trip to the airport had passed in a hazy blur. I don't know how long I sat in the lounge, waiting for my flight. I don't remember boarding.
And then I was jolted as we landed. I barely saw my surroundings as I boarded the ferry from the airport to the mainland.
"Dane, over here."
I turned in place, looking for the voice—Jax. "Did I text you?"
He clapped me on the back, guiding me toward his Li'l Red express. "Nope. Been keeping an eye on your location."
"You're stalking me?"
He eyed me. "You're sharing your location with me, Dane. Remember?"
"No."
"Couple months ago? We had that stupid cousin scavenger hunt party for Kieran's birthday, and we all shared our locations so we could cheat?"
“Oh, yeah!” I exclaimed, chuckling. “Whose dumbshit idea was that, anyway?"
"Uncle Bax, I think."
"Why did he think a scavenger hunt party was a good idea for his son's twenty-first birthday?"
Jax cackled. "Fuck if I know, bro. He's Uncle Bax. He's a fuckin' spazzy-ass weirdo." He socked my bicep. "It was low-key kinda fun, though, you gotta admit. Tweak the format a little, and it could be a killer tradition."
I frowned at him. "We spent four hours wandering around the greater Ketchikan area looking for dumb, random shit, Jax."
"I know! But think of the possibilities! Instead of random shit like a specific road sign or something, you make it things like…shit, I dunno…graffiti in bar bathroom, or a specific strain of weed at a dispensary or…or…well, you get the idea."
"Yeah, maybe."
He cranked the big diesel engine and let it warm up for a second, glancing at me. "You good, cuz?"
I let out a breath that was far too shaky for my own comfort. "To be honest, Jax, no. Not really."
"You wanna take Dad's boat out into the Passage and get spaced? I've got some killer flower."
I did not. I wanted to go home and cry like a bitch; I use that term in a strictly gender-neutral sense, by the way—men can be bitches, too.
But also, the thought of going back to my parents' house alone and…what, sit in my room feeling sorry for myself because a woman who was—I'm 99% sure—sexually abused at some point in her life is too emotionally vulnerable to be with me?
Grow the fuck up, Dane. Jesus. Pussy.
"Sure," I said. "Just…don't expect me to be my usual obnoxious self."
Jax laughed and whacked me on the shoulder—for a computer dork, he's strong as hell. "It's okay, cuz, I can be obnoxious for the both of us."
"Or we could just chill and not be obnoxious?"
Jax pretended to consider this notion for a second. "Nahhhhhh," he said. "That's lame."
And so, an hour later, I was lying on my back on the bow of Uncle Zane's fishing boat; Uncle Z calls it a fishing boat, but it's actually a former Coast Guard Defender-class Response Boat. How he got his hands on one of them, I have no idea. Former Navy SEALs get sweet boat connects, I guess.
The waves rocked the boat gently, and the sun was shining; the sky was clear and blue.
Overhead, an eagle circled, banking around on a wingtip, occasionally giving off one of its strange, thin, chirpy little squawks.
No, the glorious and haunting SCREEEEEE call they use for bald eagles in the movies is not what they actually sound like—that sound is a red-tailed hawk.
Eagles just sound like annoying little shits.
Lying beside me, head and shoulders aligned with our feet facing opposite directions, Jax puffed on the joint—which was big enough for two more people to smoke with us.
When Jax says he wants to get "spaced" you'd better be sure you know what you're getting yourself into.
The guy has a wild tolerance for cannabis.
Pretty sure he could smoke ol' Willie under the table. Okay, maybe not, but he'd hold his own.
As for me? I'm more than just spaced, I'm on another planet; when a stoner gets so stoned he or she or they can't get off the couch, we call it "couch-lock." Well, I'm deck-locked.
Jax doesn't seem high at all. He could probably re-code an entire website right now. I'm pretty sure I've misplaced my feet, and I don't remember what color my hair is.
"Bro." It came out elongated: brOOOOOOOOOOO.
Jax laughed. "Bro?”
"What color is my hair?" I pinched a lock, but it was too short to see. "I can't remember."
Jax cackled, taking another long hit and then speaking while holding it in his lungs. "Purple, bro. Remember? You dyed it purple yesterday."
"Dude, what?" I rolled my head side to side, trying to see if he was telling the truth. "I did?"
"Yup."
I looked at him, and his shoulders were shaking. “You're a dick," I said.
"Just fuckin' with you, Space Cadet Badd."
“Yeah, and whose idea was it to take your dad's boat and get stoned? I have no tolerance, Jax, you know this."
“Yeah, that's why it's fun."
"Can you get us back? I don't think I can move."
“Yeah, I'm straight."
"I'd still love you if you weren't."
He elbowed me. "Shut up. I mean I'm not too stoned to drive the boat back."
"If you're not stoned out of your gourd right now, man, then you smoke wayyyyy too much pot," I told him.
"I've always had a high tolerance. First time I smoked pot with Jimmy Hansen, Colin Cray, and Kajuk Wilson, I didn't get high at all. They rolled another joint and I smoked the whole thing myself before I felt anything." He shrugged. "Just how I am."
"How is Kajuk, anyway?" I asked. "Haven't seen him in a while."
"Me either," Jax answered. "Not for a year or so. Last I heard, he was living in the interior somewhere near Fairbanks. He had all that trouble with Jess or whatever-her-name-was, remember? After that, he was just like, fuck this, and went native."
I snorted. "Dude. He's Inupiak. He is a native."
"Oh, right. Maybe I am a little high. But you know what I mean."
"Uncle Ink would cuff you upside the head for that ignorant ass bullshit."
"Fuck off. It's Kajuk. He'd laugh at me. And you know what I mean—the old ways or whatever."
"He was always talking about doing that, wasn't he? Getting away from everything."
"Jess really did him dirty," Jax said. "I know he wasn't innocent in that whole thing, but she did him dirty. I think it was more about starting over than anything else."
"I never liked Jess." I closed my eyes and let the world float around me.
"What happened in LA, Dane?" Jax's voice was quiet.
"And now we come to the real reason we're out here. Get me stoned and make me talk."
“Well, yeah. You're a tough nut to crack, Dane. You don't like talking about the real shit. You joke and act a fool to hide how you really feel about things."
"And you're so open?"
"About what? My life is about as interesting as a cardboard box. I code, I work for fucking Best Buy, I get stoned with friends, go for hikes, go fishing…there's no drama to talk about."
"You're telling me there's no part of you still pining after Sunni?"
He lurched upright in a swift, violent sit-up. "Oh fuck you all the way off, asshole."
I cackled. "Wow, some big-time metaphor mixing happening, there. I think it's either fuck you or fuck all the way off. It's never fuck you all the way off."
“Thanks for the cursing lesson, oh wise one."
"I notice you're not answering the question."
He groaned as he lay back down. "Pining? No. Do I still feel a little funny in my no-no zone when I see her? Maybe."
"See? Jokes about the real shit. It's not just me."
"I was in love with her for like half my life, bruh.
" He let out a long sigh. "You don't just get over that.
I knew it was hopeless the whole time, you just can't help how you feel.
I really have tried to move on. She's married.
Her husband is a real one, and I genuinely like him.
I'll never, ever do anything to make it weird.
But is there a part of me that still has some residual feelings for her?
Sure." He rolled to his side, taking a hit from the joint that he had in his fingers the whole time, smoldering. "Your turn."
"I don't know where to start."
"Anywhere."
"I told her I love her."
Jax burst into a hacking coughing fit. "Fuck. Jesus." Eyes watering, voice hoarse, raspy, and phlegmy, he blinked at me. "You fucking what?"
"I told Lindsey Snelling I love her. And then I walked out and came home."
"Harsh."
"It's what she wanted."
"Which part?"
"The walking out part."
"And the L-bomb part?"
"Probably not as much."
"I feel like there's a whole middle piece missing."
I tried to hold back, but it came tumbling out anyway. "We smashed, back when I went down there with Dunc when he went to get Rune back."
"No shit? She's fine as fuck. Was it epic?"
"Well, I'm in love with her. What do you think?"
"Those are separate things, Dane. You can have epic sex and not fall in love."
"Yes, it was epic. Up until she had a complete and total emotional breakdown mid-BJ."
"Dude, you never go for the deep-throat without asking first. Chicks really don't like that."
"Fuck off. I would never."
"I'm teasing."
"Well, it's not fucking funny to me. She went from acting like she was into it—into me—to having a screaming fit in the space of, like, ten seconds.
No reason. I didn't do anything. I didn't even ask her to go down—she did it on her own.
She just fucking lost it. Ran into the bathroom and screamed at me to get out, get out, get out.
" I groaned. "Fuck me, I am so sick of talking and thinking about that shit.
I've gone in circles about it mentally a billion fucking times. "
"Did she ever tell you what it was about?"