Ethan and Jacob: Wish You Were Here
by SalientLane
Chapter 2
I never thought I'd be grateful for my scrawny frame until the moment Jacob and I stumbled upon that metal panel. It was a Saturday, the kind that begged for an adventure beneath the streets of Québec City. Wolfe's Cove Tunnel was our chosen playground, its shadowy arms open wide for two boys with a thirst for old secrets. The tunnel hadn't been used for a long time, as far as we knew.
"Hey, Ethan, check this out!" Jacob's voice echoed, his fingers prying at a piece of the tunnel's skin.
Curiosity sparked like a live wire as I joined him, watching the panel give way to reveal a hidden pocket in the stone—a secret kept from daylight and prying eyes. It was just enough space for us, if we squeezed tight.
"Whoa," I whispered, unable to keep the awe from my voice. "Think it's a—"
A low rumble cut me off, growing into a roar that vibrated through my sneakers. Jacob's eyes met mine, terror and excitement in a silent scream.
"Train coming!"
We lunged for the cavity, the world narrowing to the scrape of metal against stone as we shoved ourselves inside. The train blasted by, a metal beast uncaring of the two lives it almost swallowed whole. Inside our makeshift haven, we were a tangle of limbs, Jacob's breath hot against my cheek, my heart pounding a rhythm with his.
"Are we good?" Jacob's whisper was barely audible over the dying growl of the train.
"Good?" I choked out a shaky laugh. "We're freaking ninjas."
The train retreated like a storm passing, leaving behind a silence that throbbed in my ears. We spilled out of the hiding spot, legs wobbly as newborn deer, and burst into the safety of a sunlit clearing.
"Jacob..." I gasped, fighting for air. "That was insane."
"Insane? Dude, we're invincible." His grin was all adrenaline and mischief.
"Invincible? More like invisible. No one even knows we're here."
"Better that way," he said, chest heaving. "Just you and me, man. Always."
"Always," I agreed, feeling the truth of it deep in my bones. We lay back on the grass, the world spinning a little slower, our laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves above. This was us: hearts racing, lives dangling on the edge, but together. Always together.
"So," I said, "feeling brave enough to crush that History paper?"
"Brave or foolish?" Jacob teased, but his hand lingered on my arm, a silent agreement to every escapade, every shared dream.
"Is there a difference?" I asked, knowing full well that with him, I'd gladly be both.
It took the whole walk all the way to the library for our heartbeats to slow down again.
The scent of old books and the murmur of hushed voices wrapped around us as we sat at our usual table in Maison de la Littérature. Jacob's leg bounced under the table, a rhythmic thud against the ancient wood. My own hands weren't any steadier, flipping through pages without really reading the words. The adrenaline from this morning's escapade, our daring close call in the tunnel, still buzzed in our veins.
"Concentrate, Ethan," I muttered to myself, but it was no use. Jacob caught my eye and grinned, his own focus just as shot to pieces as mine.
"Shabbat is winding down," he said offhandedly, as if noting the weather outside. He didn't care much for it, not really. Just another Saturday evening to him.
"Mass tomorrow," I mentioned.
He snorted. "You going?"
"Maybe Christmas," I replied, which got a chuckle out of him. We understood each other; faith taking a backseat to teenage life.
"Hey, you wanna sleep over tonight?" The question hung between us, casual as tossing a ball back and forth.
"Try and stop me," I agreed instantly, relief washing over me. No more pretending to work on this paper.
Night fell, but the energy in Jacob's house never did. The report was done - somehow, someway - and his family had welcomed me with open arms at dinner. We were all chatter and laughter, even Jacob's sister Chloé joining in with her quick wit.
"Blade Runner" again because why mess with tradition? The 11th viewing was just as good as the first, maybe better. On the couch, our shoulders touched lightly, easy and familiar.
"Still cool," I murmured, lost in neon-lit futures.
"Always," Jacob whispered back, the flicker of the screen reflecting in his eyes.
Hours later, we climbed into his bed, a tangle of limbs that found its arrangement without words. Our shared space was warm, the darkness around us filled with the soft sounds of breathing and the distant hum of the city.
"Goodnight, brother," Jacob whispered, his voice thick with sleep.
"Night, Jacob," I replied, the weight of the day lifting as we slipped into dreams side by side. In those quiet moments, everything felt possible. There was no space between us that wasn't filled with the kind of closeness you couldn't find just anywhere.
We were brothers – in every way that counted.
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