Ethan and Jacob: Wish You Were Here
by SalientLane
Chapter 12
Snowflakes danced like wayward sprites in the beam of the streetlights as we trudged through Rue du Cul-de-Sac. Each step was heavy, like my boots were filled with lead instead of feet. Québec City had never felt so much like a part of me until now, when I knew I was going to lose it.
"Race you to the lamppost!" Jacob's breath misted in the air, his challenge slicing through the thick silence that shrouded us since we left my house—my soon-to-be old house.
I couldn't muster a smile, but I ran anyway. We dashed, slipping a little on the icy cobblestones, our laughter brittle and fleeting. Jacob won, as he always did, but this time he didn't gloat. He just turned to me, his face somber under the falling snow.
"Hey, Ethan," he started, a wistful note in his voice as he brushed a rogue flake from my hair. "What if... what if you stayed?"
"Stayed?" The word felt alien, hopeful, impossible.
"Here, with us." He gestured vaguely, encompassing his home, his family, our city. "You're basically my brother already."
For a moment, I let myself get lost in the fantasy. No Chicago. No goodbyes. Just Jacob and me, forever thirteen and invincible.
"Wouldn't that be something?" I said, the idea unfurling within me like a secret promise.
"Right? Maman and Papa, they adore you. And I..." His voice trailed off, but his eyes held volumes—a library of unsaid things between us.
I wanted it, more than anything. But reality is a cruel master. "Your parents are amazing, Jacob, but mine... they want me with them." The words tasted of defeat. "They think it's for the best. Prestige, money, a 'better' life in Chicago."
"Stupid adults," he muttered, kicking at a pile of snow. "Always thinking they know what's best."
We stood there, two boys against the world, our dreams as fragile as the ice beneath our feet. Our time was running out, but in that moment, we clung to each other, two halves of a whole, unwilling to let go, even as the world insisted we must.
We laughed about our previous summer on the farm, a memory so vivid it could have been yesterday. We'd chased chickens and climbed haystacks under the endless blue of that summer sky. "Remember how you got into a screaming match with that goat?" I teased, watching a smile crack through Jacob's worried expression.
"Hey, I almost won it," he shot back, his grin infectious as he nudged me with his elbow. "But let's not forget who fell into the pigpen." His laughter mingled with mine, a momentary balm to the sting of impending separation.
"Or getting trapped in the Morrin Centre," I added, my voice lower now. The cold stone walls seemed to press in on us again, the darkness a blanket where only our whispers could be heard. "Thought we'd spend forever in that cell."
Jacob shuddered playfully. "Our ghosts would've haunted that place big time."
"Speaking of haunting," I said, recalling an even eerier memory, "Monsieur Sébastian knew, didn't he? Before we did..." My voice trailed off, lost in the thought of that strange man who had looked at us like he could see right into our souls.
"Destined to be together," Jacob murmured, echoing Monsieur Sébastian's words. He reached out, fingers brushing against the Star of David at my neck. "You never take it off, do you?"
"Never," I confirmed, holding his gaze. "It's from you." It was more than a necklace; it was a promise, a piece of him to carry wherever life took me.
The warmth in Jacob's eyes was a fortress against the chill, the snowflakes around us turning to steam before they could touch the ground we shared.
"Come on," Jacob said after a while, his voice breaking the spell between us. "Let's go to my place."
His room was familiar territory, posters of bands and soccer stars vying for space on the walls, a bed that had been our campsite, our spaceship, our safe haven. "You could live in here with me," he whispered fiercely, as if saying it out loud could make it true. "This is your room too."
I could barely nod, the lump in my throat growing larger by the second. We stood there, two boys with too much feeling and nowhere to put it. Tears threatened, but we held them back – until we couldn't. Our embrace was a silent scream, hearts pounding a Morse code of sorrow and longing.
And then we just let go, let the tears fall, because some things were too big, too raw for thirteen-year-old boys to shoulder alone. So, we shared the weight, as we always had, in laughter and now in heartache.
We stayed that way, locked in a world that was ours alone, until the need for air forced us apart. With wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, we pulled back, granting each other a small, brave smile. The world outside beckoned, relentless and unchanged, but inside this room, our room, everything had shifted.
"See you tomorrow?" Jacob asked, his voice a whisper of hope amidst the storm of our reality.
"Tomorrow," I echoed, clinging to the word like a lifeline.
We needed no more words; our silence spoke volumes. I closed the door behind me softly.
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