He squirms a bit, looking uncomfortable. “Would you please not to tell me about certain things? I mean, you haven’t so far, but in the future.”
“What things?” I ask, confused.
He sighs. “About your sex life. I know your OnlyFans is your income, and it’s important to you, but I don’t think I can hear about it.”
I contemplate whether I should tell him where I stand, but I think better of it. Instead, I agree to his request.
“Sure, I can do that.”
The air has that late-day bite as the sun slides below the horizon. I scoot closer, shoulder to shoulder, letting our warmth settle between us. The cold begins to creep in, and we both shiver, so we decide it’s time to go.
The silence between us feels heavy as we return to the car, so I try to lighten the mood.
“Do you remember when you got your hand stuck in that claw machine trying to nab that stupid Furby?” I ask, laughing at the memory of his face, which went from determined to totally defeated after throwing dollar after dollar into that thing.
He swears he spent over twenty-five bucks trying to win it, and when the claw finally grabbed the Furby, it didn’t drop; it hung on the lip just out of reach, and he jammed his hand in trying to pull it free.
“Oh God, that was awful,” he groans, grinning. “My hand was numb by the time they got me out. But it was worth it. I’d been hunting for that Church Mouse forever. I still have it in a box in storage.”
We fall into an easy rhythm for the rest of the night, settled into our separate beds, trading dumb stories and having the kind of late-night conversation that used to keep us up until morning. At some point, we both finally drift off to sleep.
We get up much later than normal and find a popular breakfast spot before driving up Astoria’s steep streets to the Column. I’m terrified of heights, but Jay nudges me up the spiral staircase.
“Come on, don’t be a chicken,” he prods. “I won’t make you spit over the edge or anything.”
“Fine, I’m coming,” I say, surrendering to his grin.
We climb the 125 feet of creaking metal to reach the top. When we step onto the observation deck, the view leaves me speechless. The vastness of the river meeting the Pacific, the bridge stretching across like a spine, and the sweeping patchwork of inlets and mountains are breathtaking.
We bought a couple of balsa gliders from the gift shop, so we launch them off the edge and watch them float down like paper birds.
“I won,” Jay shouts as his plane lands farther down the hill than mine, flinging his arms up in triumph.
I love how carefree and open he is with me.
“You did,” I grin, and reach for him. His bruises have faded even more, and the makeup is doing a good job of covering what remains, so I try again. “Come on, take a selfie with me. I can use an app to make us look pretty. And it’s just for us, I won’t post it anywhere.”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he replies, smiling just as I hoped.
I put my arm around his shoulder, and we make silly faces to capture the moment.
Once we’re back in the car and ready to head home, Jay turns to me.
“Thank you. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.”
“I’m just glad to have my best friend back,” I tell him. “I missed this.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Instead of retracing our route, we cross the four-mile Astoria–Megler Bridge. The road spirals upward, gradually climbing until it reaches two hundred feet at its peak. I’m letting Jay get his touristy shots out the window by slowing down so he can capture the unique city below.
“I really like it here,” he says. “I’ll have to come back sometime.”
I agree with that sentiment. There’s something truly special about this place.
As we descend the other side, the river unfurls beneath us like a silver ribbon before we glide down the long, flat approach to the Washington side. The rest of the drive is like a moving postcard: cliffs and river, dense forests of fir and cedar, rolling hills and green valleys, as bright slivers of water catch the afternoon sun. It’s the perfect end to a memorable adventure.
After we return to Portland, Astoria won’t leave my mind. It’s exactly the kind of place I’ve always dreamed of calling home. It’s small, walkable, with a charm and vibe I really like. Being in the same state as Jay makes the idea even more tempting.
