19. Jacob

Chapter 19

Jacob

We spend two more days cooped up in the villa, unable to touch, barely able to speak, before going on our planned trip to the Red Canyon. We enjoy a full day in each other's company, being as tactile as we want, without fear of Dad or Molly catching us in the act.

The first stop is the town of Santa Lucía de Tirajana, where I buy a handwoven shawl for Mum. The highlight of the trip is a walk through a narrow ravine, which has been eroded by water, creating patterns in the rock walls.

A few familiar faces from the rainforest tour join us, including the family with the teenage break-up drama. From their loud discussion, I gather that the daughter has got back together with her boyfriend. For most of the trip, her mother loudly declares what a bad idea it is and that he's not good enough for her precious girl.

As with the first trip, it's fantastic until it ends. A sense of weariness settles over me on our way back. Knowing it's self-inflicted makes it worse.

We kiss goodbye before we leave the coach and don't touch again on the walk to the villa. I hate it. Why am I such a coward? At least we have the volcano tour to look forward to. My heart races whenever I think about watching the sunset with Archer. It's going to be amazing.

The morning of the volcano trip, I'm up early but don't leave my room until it's time to walk to the pickup point. I find Archer in the kitchen, leaning against the breakfast bar, sipping coffee.

"Morning." He smiles, his eyes sparkling.

My heart skips. His smile is so damned beautiful. "Morning. Have you been for a run?"

"Yup. And a swim."

As much as I want to see him swim each morning, I've avoided being outside until he's finished. Watching the man I'm falling head over heels for swimming in nothing but a pair of tight-fitting swimming trunks isn't a good plan.

"Ready for the trip?" he asks.

I nod.

"I'm so excited."

"So am I," Dad says.

Archer's expression drops like a stone.

My stomach flips and congeals. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The volcano tour. I booked a place on it as well."

I gape at him. "When?"

"After you said you were going on it. Didn't I tell you?"

I glance at Archer, who offers the slightest shake of his head.

"No, Dad, you didn't."

"Oh, well, I am. I wanted Molly to come along too. Watching the sunset at the top of a volcano would be romantic."

I grit my teeth. Yes, it would have been.

"But she didn't want to come. Maybe she'll join us on a trip before the holiday is over."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Archer mumbles.

Dad checks his watch. "We'd best get going, or we'll miss our pickup. Do you boys have everything you need? Water? Sun cream? Snacks?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good, good, let's go."

I hang my rucksack over my left shoulder.

"You shouldn't carry it like that. You'll hurt your back." Dad puts his on properly and fastens the waist strap.

I grind my teeth. My jaw aches, and my temples throb. If I pinch myself, will I wake up and realise this is a horrible nightmare? Unfortunately not.

"Come along." Dad heads to the door.

Archer follows but stops in the doorway. He pouts and makes puppy eyes, which gives him sad golden retriever energy. "Are you still coming?"

I release a sigh, which could double as a groan and slump my shoulders. I adjust my rucksack but don't put it on properly and follow Archer with heavy footsteps.

"It won't be that bad," he whispers.

"Won't it?"

"We'll still have fun."

"I guess."

He moves his hand towards mine and then snatches it back. "I'm sorry."

What for? Almost touching me? Our ruined day? None of this is his fault. I roll my shoulders back. If I decide the trip is going to be terrible, it will be. I need to take a leaf out of Archer's book and adopt a positive attitude. No doom and gloom. Despite Dad's presence prohibiting us from being physically close, we'll have fun.

I hope.

Dad sits on the wall between us, checking and triple-checking his rucksack and asking us to check ours like we're a pair of teenagers rather than adults. On the coach, he takes the seat beside Archer to ‘get to know him' while I sit silently seething behind them. At least the scenery is gorgeous once we've driven away from the built-up beach area into the more rugged interior.

Our first stop is a crater, which is breathtaking. Lush vegetation in every shade of green imaginable clings to the crater walls, getting denser within the basin. Our guide points out wild olive trees and white echium. Bees and butterflies dance around the tall, tower-like plants with dozens of tiny white flowers with pink centres. Kestrels wheel overhead, screeching and searching for prey.

We stand close to the guide, who regales us with information about the crater, but it's hard to hear every detail because the chatty family with boyfriend drama is on the trip with us once more. This time, they're talking about work woes.

"They're very rude, speaking over the guide," Dad says.

I don't rise to the bait and instead do my best to focus on what the guide is saying. The crater was formed over five thousand years ago. To think we're standing in such an ancient site. It's amazing and humbling.

We take in the majesty of the crater, but too soon we're herded onto the coach to travel to our next stop. This time, Dad sits with me.

"You've been quiet so far. Aren't you enjoying the trip?" he asks.

"It's great." Was I enthusiastic enough?

"You might try smiling, then, rather than looking miserable."

I clench my fist against my thigh.

Archer, who's sitting across the aisle, offers me a smile.

"I'm taking it all in." I try not to sound tense or pissed off.

"It's a bit hard when some people are being inconsiderate. Honestly. Why go on a tour if you're not listening to a thing the guide has to say?" Dad says.

"The scenery is breathtaking, even without the running commentary. I'm in awe of how beautiful this place is," Archer says.

"Yes. Molly chose a beautiful location to come on holiday. It's a shame she's missing this trip."

"I'm sure Mum's happy at the villa."

"Hmm. I'd better pick up a little gift for her while we're out and about. Maybe you could help me choose something, Jacob."

I stiffen. "Me?"

"Yes. Perhaps you can give her a present too. To show how grateful you are for this holiday."

I tighten my fist. I didn't ask Molly to arrange a holiday for the four of us. The only reason I came was Archer.

"I'll help you choose something for Mum, Barry," Archer says.

"That's nice of you. At least one of you is considerate."

Archer's expression falls. He turns away and stares past the person he's sitting next to out the window. I want to hug him and tell him I appreciate him trying to mediate between Dad and me and that it's not his fault he failed. But I can't. I can't so much as graze his fingers or touch his knee. I can't stand shoulder to shoulder with him, enjoying the magnificent views. I can't talk to him freely.

After driving along a road lined with terraced fields and orchards, the coach pulls up alongside several others on the outskirts of Cruz de Tejeda. We have thirty minutes to explore, and everyone files off the bus. The small town is heaving with tourists, most congregating around the souvenir stalls or organising donkey rides. Dad steers Archer towards the stalls, no doubt to find something for Molly. Archer glances over his shoulder. His gaze radiates longing. My heart aches.

I wander in the opposite direction. Signs indicate walks of varying lengths and difficulty levels. The shortest is thirty minutes, which would be cutting it fine to return in time. I don't want to strand here, especially alone.

I continue my walk until I come upon an intricately carved cross that has weathered over time. Across the road, tables and chairs beneath white parasols beckon me. I sit and order some water, soaking up the busy atmosphere until it's time to return to the coach.

"We were worried you wouldn't make it," Dad says.

The coach doors are closed, and there's no sign of the driver.

"Did you get something for Molly?" I ask.

"Yes, no thanks to you. Where did you go?"

"I explored." I bite my tongue before I add a glib comment.

"I'd have liked to have seen more of the town. Did you find anything interesting?" Archer asks.

I show him the pictures I took of the cross.

"Oh, that was in the guidebook. I bet it looked better in person. Wait. Is that a skull at Christ's feet?" He uses his fingers to zoom into the photo.

"It was impressive," I say.

"It's nice to see you two getting along," Dad says.

Archer and I move apart, careful not to meet each other's gaze. We're saved by the driver returning and opening the doors, allowing us to get on.

"Why don't you sit with me, Barry?" Archer asks.

I throw Archer a ‘thank you' look.

As I'm about to climb onboard, someone touches my arm. I startle.

The chatty mum gives me a sad smile. "I just wanted to say you and your boyfriend are a very sweet couple. I'm sorry you don't feel you can come out to your dad."

I gape at her. What do I say? I hadn't even realised she or her family had registered Archer and I were part of the group. But she has. Fuck. Is she going to say something to Dad?

She taps the side of her nose. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with us. Hopefully, one day, you'll feel able to let him know you're gay and that you and that young man are more than friends." She squeezes my arm and gets on the coach.

She's got it wrong, but I understand why she thinks I'm in the closet. After all, we've been on two trips together where Archer and I have behaved like a couple. But now Dad's here, we're cold and distant.

"Are you getting on?" The driver's English is halting but a thousand times better than my feeble attempts at speaking Spanish would be.

"Uh, yeah."

I get on board. All the seats are taken, but I spot an empty one towards the back of the bus, a few rows behind Dad and Archer. Archer is sitting in the aisle seat. I walk past him, and even though I shouldn't, I whisper my fingers over his shoulder. The brief, fragile contact is enough to make my heart sing. How can something that feels so right be wrong?