They walked in silence along the dusty trail. The landscape, slowly but surely, was starting to transition from the wide-open desert that surrounded I-10 to the more forested, mountainous terrain that surrounded San Gorgonio, Onyx Peak.
“I never went to prom,” Alexei said a few minutes later. “Or any school dance, really.”
Ben tried to picture it. A slightly slimmer, ganglier Alexei, in a buttoned-up shirt and khakis, standing stiffly at the edge of a dance floor. Ben’s chest ached to walk over to that boy and give him a hug.
“Did you want to?” Ben asked.
More quiet steps as Alexei considered his answer.
“I don’t know,” he eventually said, voice quiet.
They didn’t talk again until Alexei recognized the song of a mountain bluebird.
The hills had been alive with bird songs the last two days as they approached Big Bear, the trail entering San Bernardino National Forest once more. Ben could almost feel the tension draining from Alexei as the density of trees increased, the availability of shade a balm as they walked under the boughs of white firs and Jeffrey pines.
At night, Ben and Alexei followed Alanna as she triumphed over the vicious, petty Ralon, as she impressed all in the capital with her resilience, as she began to tap into the deep well of her magic.
And Ben pretended, each night, that he cared about Alanna nearly as much as he cared about the cadence of Alexei’s voice, the way it pitched when he got to a part he was particularly excited about. Ben pretended, with each chapter, that his heart did not purr inside his chest like a kitten.
They’d gotten into town today right on time to catch the post office before it closed and retrieve their resupply boxes, always a fortuitous sign of a good zero to come. Organizing resupply boxes had been one of the most time-consuming parts of Ben’s trail preparation. New food, first-aid supplies, all prepared and mailed in advance, as finding grocery stores along the trail wasn’t always a guarantee.
It was such a satisfying accomplishment, reaching another resupply box, waiting at another post office. Telling the past version of yourself who had packed it months ago:Look at us. Made it to another one.
Ben and Alexei had slung their near-identical boxes under their arms and secured a room at this small, mountain town motel. If it could even be called that. It was more like a large cabin with a few rooms for rent, seemingly run entirely by a portly man named Mo. The decor appeared to be straight from the 1970s, wood-paneled walls and heavy tartan curtains. The bases of the bedside lamps were made of gnarled wood, carved into the likenesses of bears and chipmunks and deer. A small, squat TV that belonged in a museum of technology from days past sat on top of the dresser, a yellowed, handwritten piece of paper taped to the side:DVDs available in office.
The two full beds were visibly droopy in the middle, the comforters matching the tartan pattern of the curtains but made of a scratchy, worn polyester.
Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy.
They would stay in this scrappy little town for the next twenty-four hours, resting, doing laundry, loading everything from their resupply boxes into their packs.
But first, they’d clean themselves up and hit the Mexican place they’d passed on the way to the motel.
Ben heaved himself off the bed with effort. “All right, I’m hitting the shower before dinner, or else I’ll fall asleep right here and the bed will smell like hiker trash the rest of the night.”
Alexei was working methodically through his box, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He barely nodded, focused on his task, as Ben grabbed his toiletries bag and left the room.
When the first blast of the shower hit Ben’s skin, he let out an audible groan that, belatedly, he worried would carry through the walls to Alexei. But shit, he hadn’t taken a shower since Warner Springs, and goddamn, it felt good. By the time Ben emerged from the bathroom, freshly washed from head to toe, face shaved, nails trimmed, he felt like a brand-new human being.
And tomorrow, after they found a place to wash their trail-stained, overworn clothes, he’d even be able to throw clean underwear into the mix. What a world!
Alexei stared at Ben from his spot on his bed, a Snickers bar frozen in his hand.
“Feels fuckinggood.” Ben smiled, rubbing a palm down his face. “I love being in town.”
He threw himself back onto his bed, the mattress creaking in protest. He closed his eyes, damp hair fanning across the pillow beneath him.
After a minute, the silence in the room began to feel odd.Toosilent. Ben ventured open an eyelid, looking over to find Alexei still staring at him, mouth slightly open.
“Lex,” Ben said calmly. “Do you want to hit the shower next? Not to rush you, or anything, but tacos are waiting.”
“Right.” Blinking, Alexei turned away, grabbing his own toiletries bag before rushing out of the room.
Ben let out a slow, deep breath and stared at the stained ceiling.
The thing about Alexei…was that he was rather obvious about everything, in a way Ben wasn’t sure Alexei was even always consciously aware of. Ben didn’t know, for instance, if Alexei was aware that he often stared at Ben’s mouth, or at Ben in general, for a beat or two too long.
It was obvious, too, when Alexei was uncomfortable, how his shoulders stiffened, how he normally dug out his journal and retreated from the world for a while. It was obvious when Alexei was tired and cranky. When he felt a little goofy and smiled more easily. It was obvious when he was excited about something, all the walls that usually surrounded him disintegrating like magic.
