Page 65 of Something Like Summer
“I was being a dick, Iknow,” Ben said apologetically. “Are you serious?”
“Spring break,” Jaceconfirmed, sounding friendlier. “You up for it?”
“If you still want me,”Ben chuckled nervously.
“God knows why, but I do.”Jace’s voice took on a seductive tone. “Now get your ass to theairport and come apologize to me properly.”
* * * * *
The world is a very bigplace. That was obvious enough, but Ben had never known exactly howlarge until now. Hour after hour passed, and even flying over it atfive hundred miles per hour, the ocean below refused to give way toland. The sun set unnaturally soon eight hours into the flight,obscuring with its departure any sign of progress or time. Bentossed and turned in his tiny seat, immensely uncomfortable butunable to do anything about it.
Jace dozed peacefullybeside him, as much at home here as anywhere else. When Ben’sattempts to “accidentally” wake him failed, he turned his attentionback to the in-flight movies. The individual monitors on the backof each seat were good, but the program selection was dreadful.Already Ben had drudged through multiple films that he never wouldhave watched on the ground.
Eventually he did manage asort of fitful sleep until the flight crew began serving breakfastwith pursed lips and raised eyebrows. Except when it came to Jace.They were all smiles and courtesy with him, even though he insistedhe didn’t know any of them. Maybe they sensed he was one ofthem.
Ben wanted to weep with joywhen the plane finally began its decent, which turned out to beextremely gradual because it took another hour before the airplanewas on the runway, and what felt like three eternities before ittaxied to a gate and they were allowed to disembark.
“We’re never doing thatagain,” Ben swore while they stood waiting at the luggagecarrousel. “We’ll start new lives here in Rome. Anything butanother flight like that.”
“I liked it.” Jacestretched contentedly. “It was really relaxing. Back home youbarely get in the air before landing again. I’m thinking aboutapplying for international routes. The pay is certainlybetter.”
“Wouldn’t you be homeless?” Ben asked. He already couldn’t get enough of Jace. Any lesstime spent with him and he would start developing withdrawalsymptoms. He could just see himself clinging desperately to aframed photo of Jace while trembling with the shakes.
“I don’t think it would beso different, really,” Jace answered. “We’ll see.”
Local time was three in themorning. Some careful math in Ben’s head told him it was arounddinner time back home.
“Hopefully we can stilltake a shuttle bus to the main terminal,” Jace said, checking hiswatch. “After that it’s just a few train connections to thehotel.”
“All right,” Ben said,snatching their luggage off the conveyer belt as it came by. “Let’sdo it!”
Jace looked surprised.“Really?”
“Of course,” Ben replied,trumping his puzzled look. “Why not?”
“I was sort of counting onyou not being up for it.”
“Public transportation,you mean? Hey, I used to live in Chicago, don’t forget.”
Jace sighed. “Well if youaren’t going to insist that we take a taxi, then it’s up tome.”
“Big baby,” Benlaughed.
They walked out of therelatively small airport and were assaulted with offers as soon asthey stepped into the night air. A dozen taxi drivers werecompeting for their attention, making offers in English and a slewof other languages. Feeling completely overwhelmed, Ben pressedpast them to where the actual vehicles were. He was vaguely awareof Jace asking him to wait, but he was eager to get into thesolitude and comfort of a car. Not wanting to be in crampedquarters again, he headed for the biggest vehicle, a whiteminivan.
The driver appeared,happily taking his luggage from him. Ben allowed himself thisluxury and crawled into the backseat of the car. Jace was soon nextto him, tutting something about not choosing so quickly. Then thedriver was behind the wheel, but before he pulled out another mantook the passenger seat.
“My brother,” the driverexplained with a smile. “Where you go?”
Jace gave him the address.The man nodded wordlessly, and guided the vehicle away from theairport. Ben looked out the windows, eager for his first glimpse ofa European city. So far, Rome didn’t look all that different fromHouston.
“Are you sure we actuallyleft Texas?” he asked Jace.
“Hm? Oh, I see what youmean. All highways look pretty much the same. Wait until we’re inthe center of Rome. You won’t believe the difference.”
Ben checked the meter tosee if cabs here were as notoriously expensive as they had been inChicago. Except there wasn’t a meter. That couldn’t be right. Heshifted in his seat, scanning the dashboard as casually aspossible. He was certain that there wasn’t a proper meter. Nor wasthere any sign of a taxi license or driver ID. Surely such thingswere required, even in a different country. How did people know ifthey were getting ripped off? Were they supposed to haggle theprice before they got in the vehicle? He looked worriedly to Jacewho met his gaze and nodded knowingly.
“Told you we picked toosoon,” he said in hushed tones. “This little trip is probably goingto cost us an arm and a leg. It’s all right,” he added when Ben’sface crumpled with guilt. “We’ll be fine.”
