Jake almost whooped with joy. He wanted to grab Tobias and hug him. But he managed to restrain himself to squeezing Tobias’s hand. “Awesome. Let’s go. Right now.”
Tobias stared when Jake rushed to his room. He found the spare duffel they’d brought to the park, dumped the towel out on his bed, and brought the empty bag to Tobias. “Here, you can pack your stuff in this.”
Tobias blinked at the bag. “What should I bring?”
Jake spread his arms wide. He couldn’t stop grinning. “Everything! It’s an adventure.”
“Like . . . clothes? Toothbrush?”
“Yes and yes, anything you want. Hell, you can probably fit all your worldly possessions in there. We haven’t bought you nearly enough stuff, even by my standards.”
Tobias stared at the bag, and then slowly raised his eyes. To Jake’s delight, he was smiling too. “Yeah. I can fit everything in here.”
“Awesome.” Jake let the elation and whirlwind of action carry him into pulling Tobias close for a hug before he let him go. “Be back out here in fifteen?”
Tobias’s cheeks were pink, and his smile hadn’t faltered an inch. “Okay.”
They were ready in forty-six minutes, running long only because Jake decided they should throw their food in the car too. They tossed their duffels in the back seat, cereal boxes and fruit on top of them, and a spare blanket, pillow, and Jake’s armory in the trunk. They finished off the rest of the milk and orange juice, straight from the bottles and ice-cold, and Jake tucked the last two beers under his seat. He quizzed Tobias on the stuff he’d packed, making sure he had clothes, a toothbrush, and at least one of the books from Jake’s shelf.
They swung by the library on the way out of town to leave Tobias’s books in the book-drop. Jake had no idea when they were coming back to Boulder—he didn’t want to think that far ahead—and Tobias had refused to keep his books past the due date. Small delay, but it made Tobias smile again, like his world was fucking perfect right then. Jake would have done a hell of a lot more for a smile like that.
By midnight, they were roaring along I-70 east, leaving the lights of Denver behind them. It was a dark, clear road, empty but for a couple semis, and Jake reveled in the purr of the engine, his hands on the wheel, and the vast expanse of emptiness and freedom before them. Best of all, Tobias was right next to him, so close that Jake could almost hear his breathing under the low croon of the Rolling Stones. He was safe.
Jake drove, and Tobias eventually fell asleep with his head against the window, and the stars burned as bright as the possibilities before them.
