Ethan and Jacob: Wish You Were Here
by SalientLane
Chapter 7
The car rumbled along the winding road to Quai Notre Dame du Portage, tires crunching on gravel. Jacob's dad had commandeered the music, filling the car with old rock tunes that made his mom roll her eyes and shake her head.
Chloé was busy with her Walkman, headphones on, absorbing the latest edition of Les Inrockuptibles like she was on a mission.
"Bet you can't name this band," Jacob challenged, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Easy! It's Mr.-Steely-Dan-Whatever!" I shot back, coughing from trying to use a gravelly voice, nudging him with my elbow, our arms pressed together in the cramped back seat. The lightness of the moment hung between us, unspoken but felt, like sunlight filtering through leaves.
"Show-off," he grinned, bumping me right back, as we collapsed into a fit of giggles.
"Boys, keep it down," Sophie said, though her voice was more amused than annoyed.
"Sorry, Madame Teicher," I chimed, not sorry at all for the warmth spreading through me from where Jacob leaned into my side.
"Madame!" Jacob scoffed, "You make my mom sound ancient."
"Would you prefer 'Your Grace'?" I teased, watching his nose crinkle the way it did when he was fighting a laugh.
"Only if you bow," Jacob retorted, attempting a serious expression and failing miserably.
"Knights don't bow to other knights," I declared with mock solemnity, before we both snickered, the sound mingling with the hum of the road.
As miles slipped by, our laughter dwindled to comfortable silence. A drowsy lull settled over us, gentle as sea foam. My eyelids drooped; the vibrations of the car became a lullaby. I didn't fight the pull of sleep, not with the warmth of Jacob next to me, an anchor in the ebb and flow of consciousness. We drifted off, my head finding rest against the window, Jacob's on my shoulder.
Chloé glanced up from her magazine, a knowing smile touching her lips as she captured the moment in a quiet snapshot with her disposable camera, the two of us asleep and leaning on each other like puzzle pieces that fit just right.
"Race you to the water!" Jacob called out as soon as we stepped into the cottage room that we would share for the week.
"Deal!" I said, already throwing my bag onto one of the beds, claiming it as our joint territory. The other bed remained untouched, pristine and ready for a night we'd never let come between us.
We changed into our swim trunks, movements synchronized in the dance of a friendship that blurred lines. The sight of the open sea through our window pulled us like a magnet, its vastness promising adventure, its sparkle mirroring the excitement in our eyes.
"Freedom," Jacob breathed, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
"Best summer ever," I agreed, feeling that surge of joy. It wasn't just the water, or the sun, or the endless sand. It was us, together, no walls, no secrets, just the sky above and the earth below.
We raced out the door, leaving a trail of sand in our wake, hearts beating in tandem with the waves crashing ashore. This was our world, our moment. And nothing could take that away. Not now. Not ever.
The waves lapped at our ankles, sending chills up my spine. "Think you can take me?" Jacob taunted, a mischievous glint in his eye that matched the shimmer on the water.
"Bring it on!" I shot back, kicking a spray of water his way, droplets scattering like diamonds in the sunlight.
We dove into the sea, salt and laughter mixing with every stroke. The ocean was our playground, vast and welcoming. We swam until our limbs felt like seaweed—fluid and unbound.
Later, we built sandcastles on the shore, towers reaching for the sky as if to compete with the clouds. Jacob found a shell, perfectly spiraled, and handed it to me with a grin. "For your collection," he said, and I tucked it away like a hidden treasure.
"Check this out," I called, pointing at the castle's moat. He joined me, and together we fortified our creation against the incoming tide. Side by side, our shadows mingled on the sand, indistinguishable.
We wrestled then, just for the fun of it, rolling around in the sand until our hair was crusted with it. Every now and then, I caught him looking at me when he thought I wouldn't notice, a softness in his eyes that stirred something deep inside me.
"Gotcha!" he declared triumphantly, pinning me down. But there was no victory in his voice, only breathlessness and an unspoken question hanging between us.
"Next time," I promised, though winning seemed suddenly unimportant.
As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, we found ourselves by a fire, wrapped in a blanket that couldn't possibly be big enough for two but somehow was. We sat close, closer than the flames licking at the night air.
"Nice, isn't it?" I murmured, the warmth from his body rivaling that of the fire.
"Perfect," Jacob agreed, his shoulder pressing into mine, a steady presence.
We watched the stars make their debut, one by one, the sky turning velvet above us. There were no words for moments like these, no language for the closeness that felt both ancient and new.
"Thanks for being here," I said eventually, the firelight dancing across his face.
"Wouldn't be anywhere else," he replied, and I believed him.
The taste of salt lingered on my lips, a souvenir from the sea as we left the restaurant. The air was cooler now, carrying whispers of the ocean's song. We made our way to the cottage under a dome of twinkling stars, our steps in sync.
"Race you to the room," Jacob challenged with a grin that spoke of mischief and memories yet to be made.
"Deal," I shot back, knowing full well our playful competition was just another thread in the fabric of our friendship.
We burst through the door, laughing, chests heaving from the short sprint up the sandy path. Our pajama bottoms were donned in record time, a silent agreement hanging between us. The other bed, cluttered with our belongings, remained untouched—a clever ruse for what we both desired: closeness.
"Looks like there's only one bed available," Jacob said, feigning a frown. His eyes danced with an unspoken joy.
"Guess we have no choice," I replied, the corners of my mouth betraying my delight.
We slipped into the single bed, our bodies fitting together as though shaped from the same mold. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a serene glow over us. Outside, the waves murmured a lullaby, coaxing the world into a gentle repose.
"Goodnight, Ethan," Jacob whispered, his breath warm against my skin.
"Night, Jake," I murmured back, already halfway to dreams.
As sleep claimed us, our arms found their way around each other—his head upon my chest, my arm around his shoulders—our togetherness as natural as breathing. In the quiet of the night, our hearts spoke a language of their own, beating a rhythm of happiness and blissful contentment.
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