I Spill My Heart From Coast to Coast

ALL FLIGHTS GROUNDED.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jack mumbled angrily at the huge sign outside the airport.

A security guard glared. “You think national security is a joke?”

Jack blinked at him, confused. “What?”

“I said—”

“No, I heard what you said. What are you talking about, national security?” He wasn’t very up-to-date on anything, always a week late on learning about disasters, deaths, and doomsday prophecies.

The guard filled him in, his demeanor a mix of impatience and importance. Apparently, someone had brought a bomb onto a plane out of Atlanta early that morning. They’d made an emergency landing, but the man had hinted to having accomplices. All flights were grounded indefinitely. “It’ll probably be a few days before it all gets sorted out,” he finished.

“A few days?! I don’t…I can’t…I have to get to Baltimore by the fourteenth!”

He snorted. “Good luck with that.” And he walked away.

Oh no. This wasn’t happening. It was December eleventh. He had three days to get home from California. “Shit,” he muttered, dragging his suitcase behind him and trying to flag down a cab.

When he did, he desperately asked, “Is there any way I can convince you to drive me to Baltimore?”

The cabbie stared at him in disbelief. “No.” And then he drove away.

Jack was shot down at least a dozen more times and was so close to crying when a woman tapped him on the shoulder. “You need to get to Maryland?” she asked.

He nodded, not daring to hope that that was where she was headed.

“I’m going to Vegas. You can ride with me and try to find another ride there,” she offered.

Jack just about kissed her. “You are an angel.”

Once his suitcase was in her trunk and they were on the road, she asked, “What’s so important that you can’t wait to get back to—no offense—Baltimore, of all places?”

“It’s my best friend’s birthday,” he explained. “I can’t just ditch him. I don’t care how I get there, I’ll be at his house on the fourteenth of December.”

“Wow,” she said softly.

“What?”

“That’s just…really nice, is all. You’re willing to potentially risk your life by hitchhiking across the country, just so you don’t let your friend down.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m risking my life…” He had decent judgment skills; he wouldn’t just hop into a car with an axe murderer.

She shook her head. “You’ve never been to Vegas. You’re risking your life.” Then she was quiet for a minute before saying, “If I had a friend like you, I wouldn’t be going to Vegas alone.” She laughed bitterly. “But instead, I have the kind of ‘best friend’ that screws my boyfriend when I’m in the hospital.”

“I’m…sorry?” Jack awkwardly replied.

And then she was telling him her life story. “My friend Susan set me up with this supposedly great guy, Blake. And I thought she was right; he did seem pretty damn great for the first two years we were together. But then I was in an accident and I was in the hospital for a few weeks. When I got out and went home, they were in my bed. Blake told me they were back together.”

Before Jack could even feel obligated to ask back together? she was already continuing, “Yeah, she’d neglected to mention that this was the same Blake she dated in high school. So now here I am. I’m twenty-five, I don’t have a boyfriend, I have a gambling problem, and I live alone.”

“Sorry,” Jack said again.

She shrugged. “It could be worse, I guess. Your turn.”

Wait, what? “My turn?”

“Yeah. I shared my sob-story. Now it’s your turn.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m seventeen. I don’t have any sob-stories. Not like that, anyway.”

“Okay, then do tell me why exactly a seventeen-year-old was alone, thousands of miles away from home? There has to be a story there.”

“Every time a relative dies that we didn’t really know that well, we send a family representative. Like, either me or my mom or dad will go. Some third cousin of my dad’s or something like that died and it was my turn. I looked sad for a couple hours, hugged a bunch of people I barely know, and got a trip to California out of it.” Now that he’d said it out loud, he realized it made his parents sound slightly…cold? Heartless? “I mean,” he added hastily. “If it was, like, my grandma or something, we’d all go.”

“My little sister is a prostitute and my dad sells cocaine. I’m not judging,” she promised.

Jack laughed. “Wait, are you serious?”

She nodded. And then she noticed. “You didn’t get all excited when I mentioned that she’s a hooker. Most guys I know are all ‘ooh, I wanna meet her’ when I tell them that.”

And maybe that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend, Jack thought. Bringing up the prostitute sister thing doesn’t seem like it’d be much of a turn-on. “Eh, hookers aren’t really my thing.”

“Are you gay?” she blurted. Immediately, she said, “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. I don’t know why I say things like that. I—”

“Yes,” he said simply. Why deny it?

“I’ve never actually met a gay guy. I know, right? I live in California and this is the first time I’ve met one.” And then something dawned on her. “Do you like that friend of yours, the one that you’re rushing home to see?”

“Is it that obvious?” Jack joked.

“It is now. Is he gay too?”

“Yep.”

“Aww! That’s so perfect! Ohmygod, do you have pictures together? I bet you two are totally shippable!”

“I’m sorry, but…what the hell did you just say?” Jack had no idea what she was going on about now.

“Sorry…I read too much fanfiction. I ‘ship’ a lot. It means wanting two people—usually fictional characters—to end up together, wanting them in a relationship. I’ve gotten into the unhealthy habit of shipping people in real life. I just wanted to know if you had a picture of you two so I could see if you look cute together.”

“Oh.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her the background. “That’s Alex,” he told her, pointing at the blonde boy next to him. He couldn’t keep the note of pride out of his voice. He loved showing off his almost-painfully attractive best friend to girls that couldn’t have him. Wow, that sounded selfish. And weird. Really weird.

It concerned him more than a little that she took the phone from him, held the steering wheel with one hand, and navigated the road without looking for at least thirty seconds while she analyzed the picture. When she handed it back, she asked, “And what was your name?”

They hadn’t exchanged names yet. That was a bit sketchy. “Jack.”

“Jack and Alex…” She looked thoughtfully out at the empty road. “Jalex!” she decided. “And you’d make a cute couple.”

“Really?” he wondered hopefully.

“Yes.” She smiled at him. “From the way he’s looking at you in that picture, I’d say he feels the same way.”

Curious, Jack took another look at the wallpaper of his phone. He’d see it hundreds of times. He knew it so well, he could close his eyes and tell you every detail of it. But there was one thing he hadn’t noticed. Until now, that is. Alex wasn’t looking at the camera. While Jack’s gaze was straight ahead, Alex was looking at Jack…

The same way Jack looked at Alex most days.

He couldn’t help the way his heart soared. The idea that Alex could possibly feel the same lifted his spirits to incredible heights. Grinning broadly, he sat in silence, staring out the window, thinking of what he had to look forward to when he got home. He had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually she cleared her throat. “Here we are.” They were in the parking lot of a cheesy-looking casino.

He got out and dragged his suitcase. “Thank you so much,” he said sincerely. He’d probably still be sitting in California if she hadn’t offered him the ride.

“No problem. I was glad for the company,” she admitted. “C’mon, I know some guys here from Arizona. I’m sure they can give you a lift for that leg of the trip.”

The guys she knew were parked just a few rows down, packing up a van. “Kyle!” she shouted, getting their attention. They both turned their heads.

“Kristi,” the taller acknowledged. So that was her name. Jack took note of this fact, since he hadn’t bothered to learn it earlier.

“Kyle and Kyle, this is Jack. He’s trying to get back to Baltimore by the fourteenth. You headed back to Phoenix?”

The shorter Kyle nodded. “Yep. That’s as far as we can get him, though.”

Jack interjected, “That’s fine. Any distance helps,” he assured them.

Kristi leaned in and gave Jack a quick hug. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too, Kristi. Thanks again for the ride.”

“My pleasure. Wish me luck,” she said, crossing her fingers as she started the walk to the casino.

Kyle and Kyle helped Jack wedge his suitcase in the van between two guitars. He climbed into the backseat, and they were off. Jack took note of the time. It was 9 pm, which meant it was already midnight in Baltimore. 48 hours to go until Alex’s birthday. Not that he had to show up right at midnight, obviously. It would just be nice.

“What’s in Baltimore?” the one driving finally asked after about an hour.

“My best friend. And my home,” he said briefly, stifling a yawn. “What’s in Phoenix?”

“Home,” the other said. “We’re Kyle, by the way. But we go by our middle names. He’s Douglass and I’m Steven.”

Jack tried to commit that to memory. “So what’s with the guitars?”

He could see Douglass grinning in the rearview mirror. “We’re a band.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Who needs a drummer anyway? Or a bassist? Or a keyboard player? Nah, we’ve tried out lots of other guys, but the only combo that’s ever worked was us two.”

“Huh.” He tried to think of any two-man-shows that he knew of, but failed.

“Want a CD?” Steven asked, digging around on the floorboard before finding two CDs in clear cases. “One for you and one for your friend.”

“And take some flyers, too,” Douglass suggested. “Take a whole bunch. It’d be great if we could get a national fan base.”

Jack easily agreed to those terms, putting the CDs and flyers in his bag. He closed his eyes for a few seconds…

And woke up to the sound of Steven shouting, “Wake up, wake up, the sun is up!”

“No it’s not,” Jack mumbled. The clock said 3 am. He was in Phoenix, another time zone.

“Yeah, well, this is where we’re leaving you.” It was a gas station. “Stay safe, hand out those flyers to anyone and everyone, don’t get in any white vans—besides ours, obviously—and best of luck on your journey. Oh, and like us on Facebook.”

Douglass just said, “Thanks for being an easy passenger.”

And Jack was alone. Alone at a gas station. Alone at a gas station in an unfamiliar city. Alone at a gas station in an unfamiliar city miles and miles away from home.

With, yep, a dead phone.

Wasn’t life perfect?

He stood on the curb for what felt like a year, leaning against his suitcase, trying not to fall asleep. A green pickup truck pulled up and an old man got out. Jack was by his side in a heartbeat. “Any chance you’re going east?” he asked, eyes shining with hope.

“Just to Flagstaff,” he said gruffly.

Jack had no idea where the hell Flagstaff was.

To be completely honest, he didn’t care.

“Mind giving me a ride? I’ll pay for gas.”

The man weighed the options. Tell him no, hear a news story a few days later about a teenage boy getting shot at a gas station, live with guilt. Tell him yes, have his gas paid for, and have somebody to talk to for the next two hours.

“Fine. But I’m filling up the tank.”

“Thanks!” Jack fished in his bag for his card. He hadn’t spent much while in California, so this was a perfectly acceptable expense.

Jack paid for the gas and they secured his suitcase in the back. 3:45 a.m. “You running away?” the man asked. “I don’t wanna get involved in that.

“Nope. Trying to get back home to Maryland.”

“You’ve got a long way to go,” he mused.

“I’m getting there, though,” Jack insisted. He didn’t want to be reminded how far away his destination was. It would only stress him out. Small talk, that’s what they needed to keep his mind off of it. “Why are you going to Flagstaff?”

“My wife’s buried there.”

Oh.

Jack wasn’t expecting that answer.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything, just fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket.

After a few minutes, the man spoke again. He told Jack the story of him and his late wife. It was beautiful, really. He first saw her at church when he was seven. It was the kind of story where the boy points to the girl, tells his friend, “I’m gonna marry her one day.” They were high school sweethearts, got married after that, and had kids. She got sick and died three years ago. He didn’t know if it was the sad ending or how gloomy the old man’s voice got, or a combination of the two, but Jack had to wipe away tears.

He parked outside a diner. It was almost 6 a.m. He pulled out his wallet and proudly showed Jack a picture of his wife before bidding him farewell.

He left his suitcase on the sidewalk and walked in. It was 8 in Baltimore, and to his body. There were a few people in there. “Just coffee,” he said to the young waitress as he sat down.

“What brings you to Flagstaff?” she asked, sliding a mug across the counter.

“I’m working my way back to Baltimore,” he told her. “I’ve been bumming rides. Right now, I’m working my way east.”

“Couldn’t you get a flight?”

He pointed to the headline on the front of the newspaper the man next to him was reading. It mentioned the security risk and how all commercial flights were still grounded. “My best friend’s turning eighteen in two days and if I don’t get back home by then, I’ll feel so guilty. He’s never missed one of my birthdays, and eighteen is a big deal.” He could feel his mood going downhill, and he didn’t want that to happen.

Newspaper man lowered his newspaper and stood up. “I’m on my way to Albuquerque for business. I could get you there.”

Jack brightened instantly. “That would be fantastic!” Before he left, he placed a flyer for Kyle and Kyle’s band on the wall by the restrooms.

“I have a confession to make,” he said as soon as they were on the road.

Jack’s mind scanned through possible scenarios. Serial killer, felon, kidnapper…

“I’m not really going there for business.”

He felt like his fears had just been confirmed. He couldn’t speak, just waited to hear what came next.

“I’m going to visit my boyfriend.”

Jack breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank god! I thought you were about to tell me you’re actually an escaped felon, convicted of murdering felons or something.”

He laughed. “No. I just don’t tell that kind of thing to everybody…gays aren’t exactly the most accepted group of people.”

“Tell me about it,” Jack said under his breath. “How’d you meet him?”

“We went to school together, starting at kindergarten. We never talked until high school, when we started to become friends. I had a crush on him right off the bat freshman year. It took him a while longer. He came around when we were juniors.” He was smiling so wide, it looked like his face was going to split in two. “We’ve been together ever since.”

Jack smiled too. “I’m curious…why’d you tell me the real reason you’re going to Albuquerque? How’d you know I’m not a homophobe?”

“Oh, please. I have killer gaydar, and you are quite the homosexual.”

Jack burst into laughter. “I’ve never heard it put that way, but yeah. I am.”

“So this… ‘best friend’ of yours. Is he more than a friend?”

“I wish. Kristi, the chick that drove me to Vegas, she saw one picture of us and thinks he does.”

“I bet he does,” he said wisely. “If I were younger and didn’t have the world’s most perfect boyfriend and if I was into skinny jeans, you’d definitely be near the top of my list.”

Jack took that as a compliment.

They spent the remainder of the ride comparing notes. Tom, as he soon learned was the man’s name, talked about his boyfriend Luis, and Jack talked about Alex. The similarities in some respects were uncanny, while there were also a few differences. For example, Luis played football in high school and college; Alex was a little too much of a pretty-boy to even think about playing any sports.

They were at a convenience store in Albuquerque, saying their goodbyes, when Tom asked for Jack’s number. “When it’s legal for me to marry my boyfriend in one of these states, I want you to be at the wedding.”

By the time he left, it was noon. Jack was exhausted, but, glancing every so often to make sure nothing was stolen, he stood on the side of the road, thumb out, feeling like he was either in an old western or a teen horror movie. Neither was preferable.

At last, as he was finishing his third granola bar, someone pulled over. “Where do you need to go?” asked the little old lady driving.

“Baltimore,” he said, crumbs spewing.

She spoke into a walkie-talkie, “Janet, pull over, will you?”

Soon, an RV joined them. A middle-aged woman, who he assumed was Janet, had a quick whispered discussion with the old lady. “We’re on our way to Dallas to see family, should be there by about eleven tonight. We’ve got room.”

Jack graciously accepted. He wouldn’t be crammed between instruments or worrying about his luggage flying out the back of a truck. This was a nice change.

The family in the RV was loud, but he somehow managed to fall asleep. They didn’t pester him to get up or needlessly attempt conversations. They could tell how worn out he was, and they knew that even after they dropped him off, he had a ways to go. He deserved some time to sleep.

He woke up outside a house. Weird, considering the other locations he’d been dropped off. The clock read 11:09. They were in the central time zone now, just one hour behind Baltimore.

Brook, the loudest of the bunch, shouted with glee, sprinting back to the RV. “Eddie said it’s no trouble!” she crowed, beaming at Janet before looking at Jack. “My cousin Eddie lives in Longview and is just about to leave. He said he’d take you there.” Then she looked at Janet again. “Funny how he always leaves when we get here, Mom…”

Jack held back a chuckle as he transferred his belongings to Eddie’s beat-up old Volvo. After stupidly asking where Longview was, he settled in for the shortest piece of his trip so far.

Unlike the other members of the family Jack had met, Eddie wasn’t much of a talker. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all the entire way there. Not one word. When he parked outside another convenience store, Jack said goodbye several times before he finally figured it out.

Eddie was deaf.

For some reason, he found that incredibly hilarious. He was still laughing long after his car was out of sight. It was one in the morning. Tomorrow was Alex’s birthday. Time was running out and there wasn’t another car on the road that Jack could see. He sighed in frustration, sinking to the ground.

A homeless man approached him. “You look like you need a ride,” he pointed out.

“Yeah…”

“I know a guy that could help. I’ll give you his number…for a price.”

This was definitely the sketchiest event so far. But Jack unzipped his suitcase. “Clothes and food?”

The man grinned, grabbing a few items. “God bless you,” he said, patting Jack’s head. He handed him a slip of paper with a number messily scrawled on it. “He’ll get you as far as Jackson, Mississippi for a hundred fifty bucks.” Then he was gone.

Jack called the number, had a quick conversation, and then waited. He looked at his suitcase, which he was growing really tired of lugging around. In one of those split-second decisions people make when they haven’t had enough sleep, he put what would fit into his backpack and left the rest on the side of the road. His parents would probably kill him, but he didn’t care.

As he climbed into the car and handed over the money—“upfront only,” the driver insisted—and prepared for the least legit cab ride of his life, it came to him that his parents would probably kill him anyway. He hadn’t made any communication with them since he left for the airport, and his phone was dead…damn, was he in for it when he got home. They were undoubtedly worried sick.

He slipped into a fitful sleep, uncomfortable in the seat but too tired to care. “Here ya are. And thank you,” the driver said, dropping him off outside a church. It was just five a.m., but there were a few cars in the parking lot.

He walked inside. Churches were always willing to help the needy, right? He went right into the office, where a lady eyed him curiously. “I know it’s a longshot, but I have to get home to Baltimore and I’m desperate and is there any way I can get a ride to anywhere that would get me in the right direction? I’ve been hitching rides since California and I have to get there by tomorrow.” He didn’t mean to plead, but it came out like he was begging.

She pressed a button and called the minister in. They talked quietly for a few moments before she said apologetically, “We can only give out a certain amount of funds to an individual. We can give you enough bus fare to get you to Tuscaloosa.” That was actually really helpful, if unexpected.

The minister, who was almost as old as the man that took him to Flagstaff, flashed him a smile. “I love them Ravens,” he said, before giving Jack directions and a quick Greyhound etiquette lesson.

Jack went on his way. He’d never heard of Tuscaloosa, but soon enough he’d learned that it was home to the University of Alabama, who apparently had a good football team or something. The couple a few rows in front of him wouldn’t shut up about it, at least. They were bickering about Alabama and Auburn and Jack wanted to strangle both of them by the time they crossed the state line.

Tuscaloosa was kind of a scary place. It was now around eight thirty in the morning and Jack’s stomach was insisting on eating. Slightly concerned for his safety, he quickly devoured some breakfast at McDonald’s before standing on his chair and raising his voice. “If you can’t tell from my lack of accent, I’m not from around here. I’m trying to get to Baltimore by tomorrow and I don’t have a car. If anybody can help me, even just a few miles, I’d appreciate it so much. I’ll pay for gas and everything.”

This was a new low. This would be the point in his life that he would look back on thirty years from now and cringe at the memory.

A college-aged girl said, “I’m headed home to Gadsden for break. Find a ride after that and we’re good.”

To a straight guy, the girl would have seemed very pretty. But Jack thought she was wearing too much makeup and that, seeing as it was December, her fake tan was overkill. “I’m Amanda,” she said to break the silence.

“Jack,” he replied.

“Why do you need to get to Baltimore so fast?” He could tell she was trying to start a conversation. And also, maybe he was just tired and seeing things differently, but she appeared to be the slightest bit interested in him.

“I don’t wanna let my friend down and not be there for his birthday.”

“Is your friend as hot as you?”

Rolling his eyes, Jack pulled a picture out of his bag. He kept it with him for good luck, and was glad he had it, since he couldn’t have shown her the one on his phone. “That’s him.”

Amanda looked disappointed after seeing the picture. “Hot and…in love with you?” Jack felt sorry for her. She didn’t have quite the gaydar that Tom did, or she would’ve picked up on Jack’s sexuality by now. “Doesn’t it make you feel weird to, like, be around him when he looks at you like that?”

“Well, until recently, I didn’t even know he looked at me like that,” Jack told her. But apparently everyone that saw the picture zoned in on that immediately. “And of course it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why not?” she pressed.

“Because…” Oh, why not just tell her? Not like he was ever going to see her again. “I look at him the same way.”

She looked puzzled, but after a minute she turned bright red. “Oh my god. You’re gay. This is so embarrassing!” She ran a hand through her hair, not daring to look at him. “I had this whole thing planned out in my head, where I’d give you my number and tell you to pop over for a visit if you were ever back in town and you’d leave, but then you’d change your mind and come back and say you were back in town and…oh god. I listen to country music, obviously. I’m so sorry.”

Jack laughed. “It’s fine. I didn’t think I gave off much of a straight vibe, to be honest.”

At eleven a.m., Jack started laughing again as she drove off. If the ‘cab ride’ to Jackson had been the sketchiest leg of his journey, that had been the most awkward.

“Where are you headed?” a blonde woman who looked to be in her late thirties asked him.

“Maryland.”

She had a somewhat terrifying mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Excellent. You’re not from around here at all, then?” When he shook his head, she said, “I can use you. And in return, you’ll get to Rome.”

“Italy?!”

“Rome, Georgia,” she corrected, helping him into her car.

“What do you mean, you can ‘use me,’” he asked cautiously.

“I recently found out that my husband is cheating on me, and after some research, I learned where the bitch lives. What’s your name?”

“Jack…”

“Well, Jack, I’m Joy, and I’m pissed off. Have you ever egged a house?”

“Yeah…but aren’t you supposed to do that at night?” You know, not in broad daylight…

“She won’t be home. Come on, live a little.”

It was so weird, being encouraged to do this by someone older than him. But if it got him closer to home, he was okay with it. She stopped at a grocery store and handed him fifty dollars. “Tell them you’re buying the eggs to help make a community breakfast at a church or something.”

When he got back, pushing a cart full of egg cartons, she asked, “Did it work?”

“I just went through the self-check.”

“Either way, this is perfect. There’s no cameras proving I purchased eggs, and you’ll be states away by the time she gets back home.”

A couple more miles and they were at the house. “Ready?”

And for the next ten minutes, the new friends hurled eggs at the house together, laughing and conversing like they’d known each other their whole lives. Jack had to admit, he could get used to knowing someone like her…although he would never want to get on her bad side.

When they’d exhausted their supply of eggs, Joy declared, “You know what, Jack? I like you. And you helped me out a lot today. Tell ya what, I’ll get you to my cousin’s house in Winder.”

So many unfamiliar city names, so little time.

When they got to Winder, it was four in Georgia, which was in the same time zone as Maryland. It was eight short hours until Alex’s birthday. There was no way he would get there by midnight, but if he could keep this up, he’d be pretty damn close. “Thanks again for your help,” Joy called as she drove off, cackling maniacally. Yeah, that was someone you never wanted to piss off.

Her cousin was another minister. In the course of one day, Jack had dealt with more of those than he had in over a year. “I’m going to Cornelia, about an hour away. That’s the best I can offer.”

“Good with me.”

In Cornelia, he almost immediately found someone willing to give him a ride to Charlotte. The only condition was that he had to tell a “good story.” If he failed, he would be dropped on the side of the road whenever the driver got bored with his tale.

So he told the story of his past couple of days. “All flights were canceled,” he began. “My best friend’s up in Baltimore, and it’s almost his birthday. I have to be there because, one, he’s my best friend, and two…well, I think I’m finally going to suck it up and admit that I’m in love with him. But I was in California! I didn’t know how the hell I was going to get there in time.”

He smiled charmingly at the driver, a girl about Amanda’s age, who had already mentioned something about her girlfriend, so there was no danger of her hitting on him. “But then I met Kristi, a chronic gambler with a hooker for a sister and a cocaine-selling father. She got me to Vegas. Then this Arizona pop-punk duo, Kyle and Kyle, they took me to Phoenix, where I met an old man who was driving to visit his wife’s grave.”

He could tell she was listening intently as she wove between the cars. “A gay man named Tom helped me along the way, and then I hopped in an RV with the loudest family I’ve ever met. I rode in what I thought was an awkward silence with a guy I didn’t know was deaf until the ride was over. I gave a bunch of clothes to a homeless man in exchange for the number of a sketchy cabbie, if you can call him that. I got bus fare from a kind church and rode a Greyhound to Tuscaloosa, where a girl by the name of Amanda didn’t realize I’m gay, so she was flirting the entire way to Gadsden, where Joy picked me up. We egged her husband’s mistress’s house in Rome, and she took me to Winder, Georgia. Her cousin drove me up to Cornelia, and here we are…on the way to Charlotte.”

“That’s be amazing, if it were true.”

He pulled out a flyer for Kyle and Kyle, which he presented to her. Her eyes just about popped out of her head. “Oh my god! Then that might be the greatest story I’ve ever heard in my life! Wait till I tell Jen about this!”

Eight at night. No way was he getting there right at midnight. In a Wendy’s in Charlotte, he found a family from Miami that was going to DC for vacation. After telling them his story, they agreed to take him all the way to Baltimore. He hugged all four of them, the parents and both their kids.

He was fighting against the heavy weight of tiredness. As he sat between two sleeping children, it was sinking in how long he’d been awake without real sleep. He wanted to join them in their peaceful slumber, but he knew he couldn’t. He refused to get another wink of half-sleep until he was home.

The parents kept trading off driving every thirty minutes. He was surprised that all the stopping and starting wasn’t jostling the kids awake. He was also a little jealous.

Finally, they were in Baltimore. They dropped him at the front of Alex’s neighborhood. “I really can’t thank you enough,” he told them. He couldn’t think of a way to express just how grateful he was, not just for their help, but for everybody who had played a part in getting him back to Baltimore in one piece.

He tapped on Alex’s window at three in the morning on December 14th.

“Jack…” he asked sleepily. And then his eyes widened and he dragged Jack by the shirt into his bedroom and pulled him into the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone. “You’re here! I didn’t think you’d be here. Wait, how did you get here? I thought all the flights were canceled.”

“It’s quite the story, really. One I’ll tell you after I get some sleep,” he said through a yawn. “Teaser: I hitchhiked across the country.”

Alex let go of him and pulled back, brow furrowed. “You…how…why?!”

“It’s your birthday. You know I wouldn’t ever miss it. Happy birthday, by the way.”

Alex was giving him a look he’d never seen before. “You could have died! What if you’d gotten picked up by some psycho?”

“Totally worth it,” he promised, sinking onto Alex’s bed. “Can I please go to sleep now?”

“Jack…that’s the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me. It’s also the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and that says a lot, considering some of the things I’ve watched you do.”

“It was nothing, really.” He didn’t want to blush. “I just, you know, you mean a lot to me and I hated the idea of not being here for your birthday.”

That look was still on Alex’s face as he sat next to Jack. “You hitchhiked three thousand miles,” he stated slowly. “In three days. Just because of my birthday?”

“Pretty sure I already said that. But just so we’re clear, yes. That’s exactly what I did.”

“But why?”

He wasn’t going to let this go, was he? “Because I really like you and even the thought of you being sad makes me sad and I want you to be happy so it was worth it to me to ride across the country with some insane people so I could be here with you.” He knew he was blushing, possibly even as much as Amanda.

Alex smiled, not his usual smirk, a different smile. One that made Jack’s stomach flip. “I really like you too, Jack.” He leaned in and kissed him gently. It wasn’t greedy or needy; it was a perfectly innocent first kiss. But it still left both boys breathless.

“Alex, I hate to kill this and I’d love to continue it later, but I’m exhausted.” Jack laid back on the bed. “Sleep for now?”

Alex complied, curling up next to him. “Best birthday ever.”