Chapter Seventeen TSA, the Organization That Famously Loves Trans People
Chapter Seventeen
TSA, the Organization That Famously Loves Trans People
“Got it,” Jacob says from a few feet away, his hands tucked under his armpits, cell phone sandwiched between his ear and his
shoulder. “Yeah, we left everything on the boat. Cell phones, passports, IDs, luggage, everything.”
“So, your friends booked this entire cruise just to get the two of you back together?” Dani asks, blowing the smoke from her
weed pen away before offering it to Owen.
“Friend, singular. Jacob’s sister,” Owen corrects before taking a long hit, holding it for a beat before he exhales through
his nose.
To say their options were limited was an understatement. With the port building closed, and no phones to call the 24/7 hotline
advertised on the outside of the building, they’d just started to walk toward town.
Jacob, ever the optimist, kept promising that they’d find a way back home, that things would be okay, but the words did little to alleviate the guilt and anxiety that stirred in Owen’s stomach.
And he remained silent as they walked through downtown and back onto the road that’d carried them out to the SeaLyfe rehab center earlier that day.
“Dani was always a total night owl in school; there’s a chance she’s still here,” Jacob said, ringing the intercom at the
front door. “Even if she isn’t, maybe one of her coworkers can help us get in touch?”
A security guard answered the door for them, obviously skeptical of two strangers approaching a marine life rehabilitation
center in the middle of the night. Owen couldn’t really blame him. Jacob’s pleading worked, though, and the security guard
finally relented and gave Dani a ring on his walkie-talkie.
“No one else had any idea, I guess,” Owen finishes, passing the vape back to her.
“That’s so fucked, dude.”
“You’re telling me.” He digs his heels deeper into the gravel that lines the lot. No matter how bitter he is, it still doesn’t
feel right to talk about Kaitlyn like this. Maybe it’s too early to forgive, or maybe it’s the weed. He’s certainly not happy.
And when they somehow get back to San Francisco, they’re going to have to have a conversation about boundaries.
But Owen’s not mad at her.
“She only did what she did because she cares,” he tells Dani, rejecting the vape when it’s offered back to him. “Maybe too
much.”
“Still . . .” Dani says.
“That’s great, yeah. Um . . . we’ll probably have to call around, see if we can arrange something somewhere.” Jacob nods,
turning to look at Owen and Dani, shooting them both a quick thumbs-up. “Thank you. Yes. Uh-huh. Yeah, you have a great night
too.”
He straightens, handing the phone back to Dani, the gravel crunching under his feet. “So, there’s good news and bad news.”
“What’s the good news?” Owen asks, following Dani and Jacob back inside. Dani slaps the button to call the elevator.
“The cruise line is going to contact the ship and let Kaitlyn and Abby know what happened to us,” Jacob explains.
“That’s all they could do?” Owen hates the petulant tone of his voice. “How are we going to get home?”
“That’s the bad news. We’re pretty much responsible for finding our own way back,” Jacob says, clearly exhausted.
“Okay . . .” Owen huffs, mind already racing with exactly what that means. Booking a flight? Or getting on a second cruise
when another boat comes around to port? Driving through Canada? How are they supposed to do any of that without passports
or money? “So . . . what do we do?”
“We can book a flight that’ll take us to Seattle, and we’ll get to San Francisco from there,” Jacob explains just as the elevator
doors open again to let them back onto the lab floor.
“Didn’t you guys leave your passports on the boat?” Dani asks as she scans all of them back into the lab.
“Yeah . . .” Jacob’s shoulders slump.
“IDs too?”
“Mm-hmm . . .” Owen confirms.
Evidence of Dani’s late night at the lab is flung all over the place: the fast food that she’d ordered for dinner, The Sopranos paused on her laptop.
One of the aquatic patients she’d apparently been observing is sitting in its tank on the table, camera set up to record, its attention drawn to the laptop like it was watching the show along with her.
“Well . . . sounds like you’re up shit creek without a paddle. ”
Owen lets out a huff of laughter, remembering Jacob’s mom saying the same thing once.
“It’s not like it matters, we can’t pay for anything,” Owen says, sinking onto one of the stools, his ankles feeling achy.
“I asked the cruise line to leave Dani’s number with Kaitlyn. As long as Dani’s okay with it, I can have Kaitlyn help us book
our flights and get us our tickets.”
“That doesn’t solve the issue of our passports,” Owen adds. “Do you really think TSA is going to just wave us through?”
“Who knows, maybe we’ll catch them on an off day?” Jacob shrugs, trying for a joke.
Owen isn’t laughing.
That’s when Dani hops in, reading something off her laptop. “So you can get through TSA without a passport. You’ll be subject to additional screening, and totally at their mercy, but you can get
through.”
“Yeah, TSA, the organization that famously loves trans people.” Owen sighs.
“It’s also worth noting that my niece works at the airport, and she can probably help out,” Dani adds. “Sorry, might’ve buried
the lede on that one.”
“Thank you, Dani.” That seems to relax Jacob at least a little.
“Do the two of you need a place to stay tonight?” Dani spins on her own stool, snagging one of the room-temperature fries
from her dinner. “I’ve got a guest room.”
“Oh, we couldn’t ask you to do that,” Jacob replies, Owen staring daggers at him.
“So . . .” Dani sings. “What’s the alternative? Got a plan for where the two of you are going to sleep tonight then?”
Jacob winces, turning to Owen. “I guess we really don’t have a choice, do we?”
Owen shakes his head.
“All-righty, then!” She shuts her laptop, sliding it into her bag in one fluid motion. “Sleepover with Dani!”
Dani’s house is a one-story bungalow near the edge of the woods in Mendenhaven, tucked a bit further from the road down a
gravel path, surrounded by trees. It’s so dark outside that Owen can barely see five feet in front of him before Dani turns
on the porch lights.
“All right,” Dani says as she kicks off her shoes in the mudroom, leaving her coat on a hanger before she opens the screen
door. “I think I’ve got extra toothbrushes, but no promises. Any clothes I have might fit Owen, but you’re outta luck, big
man,” she adds, giving Jacob a sympathetic look.
“It’s okay,” Jacob replies, ducking as he steps into the house.
Dani gives the two of them a tour of the necessary parts of the house, leading them through the kitchen and down the hall
to the guest room. “Bathroom is right in there.” She points to the shut door. “I’ll get y’all some towels in case you want
to take a shower.”
“Thank you so much again,” Owen says to her, falling onto the reading chair tucked in the corner, extending his feet onto
the ottoman, stretching to massage his ankles. So much walking today.
“Do you need anything, Owen?” Dani asks. “Tylenol, icepack?”
“Ibuprofen, by any chance?” Owen asks, already feeling guilty for daring to ask for one more thing. But he needs something if he’s going to sleep tonight with how badly his joints feel.
“Got it!” Dani nods, dipping out of the room.
“How are you feeling?” Jacob asks, sitting down on the ottoman, lifting Owen’s feet into his lap to take over the massage.
“Not amazing,” he admits, watching Jacob slowly pull off his socks. As expected, there are splotches of red on all the typical
areas. “It’s not just the pain, though.”
Jacob tilts his head to the side in confusion.
“If I hadn’t left the boat—” Owen starts to say before Jacob stops him.
“No, we’re not doing that.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t know, Owen.”
Owen’s mouth twists, like he’s in pain. Then tears start to bloom in the corners of his eyes.
“Oh, baby . . .” The way he says the pet name pierces Owen’s heart, only pulling the tears out further. Jacob scoots himself
between Owen’s legs, tugging him in close. “It’s okay.” He comforts Owen so softly, voice calm as his hand reaches up to stroke
Owen’s hair.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” And now he feels like an idiot for crying over this of all things.
“Shush.” Jacob’s voice is gentle. “I’m not mad. Owen. Everything’s going to be okay, alright? We’re going to find our way
home; we’re going to get back. You’re safe here, okay? You’re with me.”
Relief floods through Owen, a warmth spreading in his chest as the tears flow harder.
“And we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Owen nods silently, burying his face deeper into Jacob’s chest. If that’s even possible.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and Jacob diverts his attention just long enough to take the towels and say good night and thank Dani one more time.
“It’s no problem at all,” she reassures them. “You two are better company than the bears that wander around here.”
“There are bears?” Jacob swallows.
“What makes you think there aren’t?” Dani deadpans. “See you boys at breakfast!”
Jacob closes the door behind him after one final hushed good night. “Do you want to take a shower?”
The shower certainly isn’t meant to accommodate two people, but they make it work. Owen is fine, for the most part. It’s Jacob’s broader frame that has them
bumping into each other as they trade places underneath the showerhead. And because of his height, any time Jacob is underneath
the water, he completely blocks the flow, leaving Owen to freeze despite the heat.
“Switch,” Jacob commands.
“I just got under here!” Owen protests, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead.
“Too bad,” Jacob argues. “I’m freezing.”
Owen shakes his head. “Such a baby.”
Jacob’s hands find a spot on his waist. For a moment, Owen thinks he’s going to go in for a kiss, but then he forcibly switches
their places.
“Asshole,” Owen murmurs, grabbing the shampoo.
“Want me to do that?” Jacob offers, holding his hand out.
“Oh, uh . . .” Owen’s eyes dart from Jacob, to the bottle, then to Jacob again. “I can do it.”
“But I want to.” Jacob urges with his hand again. “Please?”
He lets Jacob have the bottle, turning away to face the wall as Jacob squeezes a generous amount into the palm of his hand.
He starts like he always used to, at the base of Owen’s scalp, working the shampoo in expertly with his long fingers, just
barely scratching, making Owen rear his head back.
“Still like that, huh?”
“Not a word,” Owen mutters, eyes fluttering. After a while, they switch places so that Owen can do the same for him.
“Are you feeling better now?” Jacob asks, staring down at Owen.
“A little, yeah . . .”
“Is there anything that I can do to help?” Jacob asks.
“Just . . . be here,” Owen says, resting his head on Jacob’s chest.
“I’m not sure there’s anywhere else for me to go,” Jacob says, voice muffled under the sound of the running water. Then he
smiles as he looks down at Owen, kissing the top of his head. “But I’ll stay anyway.”
They dry off quickly, Owen changing into a pair of sweatpants that Dani left for him. Jacob tries his best to fit into a pair
of oversized flannel pajamas, but his thick thighs stretch the material to their limit, the back of them nearly ripping when
he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Would you be too upset if I just slept naked?” Jacob asks, standing up.
“Why start now?” Owen replies.
It strikes Owen just how funny it is, how normal it already feels to slip back into bed next to him.
Jacob wraps his arms around Owen’s body, pulling him in so close that Jacob’s chest hair tickles his nose.
Owen giggles when he feels Jacob press a kiss to the top of his head.
Then another, then another, and another and another and another.
“Stop!” Owen protests, completely insincerely.
Jacob goes in for a final kiss, letting this one linger against Owen’s forehead. It’s going to hurt so badly when they have
to let each other go again, Owen knows that. Which is why, until they get back to San Francisco, he’s not going to question
a single thing they want to do. And maybe that’s selfish, but Owen wants to be selfish. Just for the next few days.
“I love you,” Jacob whispers, nose pressed into Owen’s still damp hair.
“Love you too,” Owen mumbles, leaning up to kiss him softly, the taste of wintergreen toothpaste still lingering on his tongue.
“Good night, Jacob . . .”
“Good night, Owen.” Jacob reaches to turn off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in darkness, save for the streetlight just
outside. Owen closes his eyes, breathing in Jacob as deeply as he can. Because he’ll never be ready to let this go.
But he knows that he can’t hang on for much longer.