I feel like the fire department didn’t need to send two trucks. That seems a little bit extra, honestly. I’m pretty sure Aiden and I could have put this out ourselves, but it’s far too late for that. I’m glad that the sun hasn’t quite started setting yet, because the fire against the night sky would be like a giant, embarrassing torch of the minor disaster that just occurred.

Well. There are two fire trucks, I guess. So maybe not like, the most minor of all disasters.

Whatever, it’s only smoke now. The firefighters are starting to put their stuff away, winding up hoses and pulling off sweaty helmets. I recognize at least two of my dad’s poker buddies among them, which means I’ll have some explaining to do later.

Aiden is standing at my side, his eyes wide, his fingers pressed to his lips.

“Okay,” I murmur. “Let’s try and look at the bright side.”

“The bright side!” Aiden can’t take his eyes off of the smoldering Ghost Office.

“Well, the place is still standing. No one got hurt.”

“Jamie, I set a building on fire!”

“Shhh!” I glance around to make sure no one is listening. “Do you want to get arrested for arson? Technically it was the explosion that set the building on fire.”

“An explosion that I caused!” Aiden presses his hands over his eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine. Glad I don’t have my sunburn, honestly, or landing on my back like that would have been bad.”

“I can’t believe this.” Aiden has a smudge of ash on his cheek, and some of it comes away on his fingers as he drops his hands. “What were we thinking?”

“So we made one tiny mistake!” A board from the roof of the Ghost Office comes loose and tumbles onto the ground. It makes a loud clatter, letting out a puff of smoke and ash. “Fine, a medium-sized mistake. Medium-small. But honestly, this was probably going to happen at some point."

“Really?” someone says, from behind us. Aiden and I both startle and turn. “Is this an average day for you, Keane-Bean?”

Oh, no.

“Roger,” I say. “Oh my god. Hi.”

He’s already removed his helmet, and his mask is dangling from his tattooed neck. His black hair is messy, but he wears that look well. I extend my arms for a hug, and Roger accepts, giving me a tight squeeze. His fingers trace up through my hair when he releases me. Aiden catches the tiny movement; I see him follow it out of the corner of my eye as Roger steps back.

“You look great,” Roger says, catching my hands as they drop away from him. His mouth rises into a teasing smile. “Even better than I remember.”

Aiden clears his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Roger, this is my friend Aiden. Aiden, this is my - this is Roger.”

The two of them eye each other over the top of my head. How did I end up standing between them like this?

“Nice to meet you.” Roger’s eyes narrow, very slightly.

“Likewise.” Aiden stands closer to Roger’s height than I do, and I’m getting a weird feeling like I can’t tell what’s going on up there. “How do you two know each other?”

Roger answers looking at me, as if I’m the one who asked the question.

“Jamie and I spent a beautiful summer together,” he says, smiling into my face.

“Did you?” Aiden asks flatly. Roger’s attention reverts back to him.

“We did. Truly unforgettable. What about you?”

“Jamie and I have known each other since high school, actually.”

“Really?” Roger smiles sweetly. “Funny, he never mentioned you.”

Aiden blinks and tilts his head to the side.

“Um-” What the hell is happening, right now? “Roger, is my dad’s place completely destroyed, or…?”

“No, we contained the blaze pretty quickly.” Roger swipes his hair out of his face and glances at the still-smoking Ghost Office. “You’ll need to check for structural issues, but it’s not too bad, all things considered. Did you guys try to put it out before we got here?”

“We thought we could handle it ourselves,” I explain. A cough of smoke escapes the roof, filled with sparks.

“Well, you gave your neighbors a scare. Guy who called it into dispatch thought he heard an explosion.” Roger glances at Aiden, who is watching us with his lips twisted to the side and his arms crossed over his chest. “Jamie…” He draws me a few steps away. “I’ve been texting you. Did you get a new number?”

Oh, god. Aiden is still very much within earshot.

“No, I’ve just been really busy.”

“You said we could still be friends,” Roger says, pouting. “I miss you. You know I finally replaced that shitty old mattress you hated? Got a brand new one.”

“That-” I can tell that Aiden is listening, and the idea that he’s overhearing this is scrambling my thoughts.

“Come on, Keane-Bean, didn’t I treat you right?”

“I just have a lot going on.”

Roger shifts a little closer. “If you’re stressed out, I can think of something that might-”

A sudden burst of flame at the base of the Ghost Office cuts him off. It’s only about the size of a campfire, but it makes a loud bang. Everyone on the scene turns in surprise, except Aiden, who moves over to join us without so much as a backward glance.

“Looks like you better go deal with that,” he tells Roger.

“Jesus! How did that happen?” Roger slips his mask back onto his face and takes off to join the other firefighters. Aiden comes to stand at my side.

“This has been a day,” I mutter.

“Yes, it has. And you make fun of my plans. At least the fire department never had to get involved while I was at the wheel.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did all this on purpose to make my ideas seem worse than yours, dude.”

“Right. Totally.” He looks at me, and I take him in: the thumbprint-sized smudges of ash on his face and arms, his hair wild from the explosion, his sleeve singed. I must look fucking crazy, too, because after a moment of staring at each other, we both laugh. Aiden shakes his head, turning back to look at the now-smothered fire.

I’ve been taking pictures the whole length of the hunt so far, chronicling this bizarre journey we’re on. I pull out my phone and snap a quick shot of Aiden from behind, watching the smoking Ghost Office. He turns, sees me, and does that half-smiling, half-exasperated face he likes to fix me with. I take a picture of that, too.

“What do we do now?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders.

“You wanna go for a walk?”

~~~~

The sun drops closer and closer to the horizon as Aiden and I make our way down the pebbled riverbank. Reddening light spills over the surface of the water, which is calm, almost still, as if the river itself doesn’t want to work too hard in this kind of heat. The effect is one of rosy stained glass, actually quite beautiful. I prefer spring to summer, when everything is reviving and blossoming, but I can appreciate moments like this.

The air is slow and fragrant and shadowy. Birds, crickets, and chirping frogs add their contributions to the song of the coming evening. Helicopter seeds from the maple trees spin down from their canopy homes like graceful dancers. The sun will set fully soon, but I’m with Aiden, which means I never have to worry about going without light.

The tree boughs overhead shift in a sudden breeze, making a sound like a light rain shower. I wish I could hold Aiden’s hand.

After Roger and his team rushed off to the next emergency, Aiden and I left the Ghost Office closed up and dark. We’ll have to figure out what to do about fixing it. I don’t know what to say to my dad. He’ll be upset, but eventually, he’ll calm down and tease me about it for the rest of my life. I suppose Aiden and I are lucky that it’s my family we’ll have to break this news to, rather than his. If his mother would be disappointed with the work we’ve done so far, I can only imagine what she’d say about all this.

Judge not that ye be not judged, Jamie, my mom would say, if she knew what I was thinking right now - and yet, I can’t help but think that Aiden’s mom sounds needlessly cold.

My parents don’t define me, I’d said to him, when he was over for dinner. No, of course not, he’d answered. He would know, wouldn’t he? Because neither of his parents sound anything like him.

“Are you upset with me?” he asks. I surface from my reverie, blinking.

“What?”

“You’re so quiet.” Aiden lifts his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I might be able to fix some stuff with energy before you tell your dad.”

“Oh, no. It’s just - I really thought my stupid idea was going to work.” I let out a frustrated breath. The slow-moving river drifts up close to our shoes and makes a lazy retreat. “Think about it. You made that explosion happen so fast.”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

“Yeah, but - when you do things your own way, it’s easy.”

“Easier to call on and release, maybe.” Aiden’s gaze travels out over the river, where a kingfisher is skimming along the surface on light blue wings. “Impossible to control. It’s too much for me to direct and contain at the same time. I can’t channel it without help.”

“Okay, well, the stones were what helped your mom. Maybe we just need to find something that can help, but that’s more - you?”

“What would you suggest?”

I lapse into silence, thinking it over. I can tell that Aiden is doing the same thing, and we walk in ponderous silence for a bit. What would be more Aiden? I let my eyes drag over him as he moves along. I don’t know how a person fresh out of an explosion can look so cute, but I love everything about the way he is right now, right down to the smudges of ash still marking his hands. I remember the way those hands traced over my back in his bedroom, how his fingertips felt on my skin, that openness between us through which energy pushed and pulled.

I stop, and Aiden turns to look at me.

“Thought of something?”

“Could -” I hesitate. “Could it be another person?”

There's a long moment of silence. I see it dawn over Aiden’s face, what I intend. His blue eyes go round with surprise.

“Seriously? You’d be comfortable trying that? After what happened to the Ghost Office?”

“Yes. I trust you.” I take a step closer to him. “Okay, I’m a little nervous. But it might work, right? It’s too much energy for one person to control, so just - give some of it to me. And I’ll, uh, hold it for you, I guess, so that you can use a manageable amount.”

Aiden chews his lip, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m not totally sure how it would work,” he says slowly. “I’ve never heard of doing it that way before, but there are first times for everything.”

I hold out my palms to him.

“Show me what to do.”

He looks down into my hands for a moment, debating, then takes them into his. He holds them loosely, gently.

“Alright. What the fuck. At least we’re outside. No building to burn down.” He takes a firmer grasp of my hands. “Don’t let go. Try to clear your mind, make some space.”

I close my eyes. With nothing to see, everything else draws my attention more closely: the warbling calls of the birds, the feeling of my hands closed in Aiden’s. The faint smell of burnt wood clinging to both of us. Clearing my mind is easier said than done. Having him this close to me, holding me like this, it’s enough to send me into an internal freakout without the added fear of what might happen if this goes wrong.

“You’re too nervous,” Aiden says, after a while. “You need to calm down.”

“I’m trying.” I keep my eyes squeezed shut. “Can’t you just do it, even if I’m nervous?”

“No.” Aiden’s low voice is quiet and focused, the way it gets when he’s trying to make magic. I imagine the white-blue swirl in his eyes. “You’re closing yourself off. You have to want to let me in, or this isn’t gonna work.”

“Okay, I’m trying, honestly, I am.”

“Jamie.” Aiden’s voice softens. “Open up for me. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because it’s so far from my intention, I think it’s actually impossible.”

My heart twists, trying to break out from my chest and fly right to him. Calm down. Open up. Let him in.

Something unlocks deep within me, some wellspring of tideless calm I never knew I had. Clarity rolls over my mind like the breaking of a fever. Everything else spinning around in my head goes quiet, and the only thing I remain aware of is the point of contact between my fingers and Aiden’s. I feel something pushing at me through his fingertips, the testing of a boundary. Sparkling, electric warmth starts to slide up the pads of my fingers, pushes up to my knuckles, my palms, my wrists. It climbs over me until I am a block of pure vibration, like I’m floating high above myself but still feeling with my own hands, hearing with my own ears.

There’s nothing analogous to this. This is like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I feel the sensation reaching the farthest corners of me, climbing into my bones, stretching out into my toes, swirling behind my eyes.

It feels good.

I hear, as if from a great distance, Aiden’s huffing, breathless laugh.

“This feels different,” he murmurs, his words filled with wonder that matches my own.

His voice is a rope I use to pull myself back from the haze of sensation that has overwhelmed me. I reach for him, but my hands don’t move - the feeling does. I become aware of his breathing, his pulse, the heightened beat of his heart, as if they’re within my own body. I think he knows that I’m exploring him, because I hear him release a sudden, sharp breath. But he doesn’t push me back. I flow between myself and him like the slow, breaking waves of the river next to us.

To open my eyes and find that neither of us has moved an inch is beyond strange. He’s still holding my hands. His brow is furrowed, his lips twisted down in concentration, and yet I can feel him smiling. There’s a foot of space between us, but I can feel and hear his heartbeat as if it were my own. In fact, my heart is settling down next to his, joining it in pace and pulse until we are beating in time.

“Can you channel it?” I whisper, afraid to break the connection. “Do I have enough? Because I’m not sure I can take much more.”

“I’m going to try.” Aiden gives my hands a tiny squeeze. “We don’t have the glasses.”

“Just think of William. Try to call him.”

Aiden lets out a long breath. My eyes are glued to his face, but from the corner of my eye, I see a movement. I turn my head and stare out at the river, disbelieving.

The water, still and calm one second ago, is starting to ripple. Outward, from a central point in the middle. Concentric circles rise up and roll out in a repeated rhythm, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum…

It’s our heartbeat, his and mine, beating out through the water. I hear it in my ears, feel it in his pulse, the steady thumping, growing stronger and stronger.

Something bursts from the surface of the river and spins into the air.

Aiden opens his eyes, startled by the sound, and our connection breaks. I gasp at the loss, and he does, too. We stare at each other, panting, and whip around to look at the thing hovering ten feet over the water’s surface.

Aiden reaches out, and it begins a slow, angled descent until it lands, dripping, in his palm.

It’s a golden pocket watch, the time stopped at 10:27 PM. Aiden turns it over. There’s an engraving on the back, three tiny words, flooded with water.

“William Joseph Clarke,” Aiden reads, and starts to laugh.