FRIDAY
Noah shut down his computer. Grabbed his jacket.
His phone had been face-up on his desk all day. Waiting.
Nothing from Atlas.
Marcus texted fifteen minutes ago: downstairs
Noah picked up his bag. One last look at his phone.
Still nothing.
He left.
---
Marcus's SUV was idling at the curb. Music already too loud—something with too much bass that vibrated through the seats.
Noah pulled open the back door. Sam and Nathan were squeezed in the third row, beers already open, condensation dripping onto their jeans.
"Finally!" Jared turned around from the passenger seat. "Thought you bailed."
The leather seat was warm. Someone's cologne—too strong—mixed with the smell of old fast food wrappers shoved under seats.
Marcus pulled out. "Everyone else is already there. We're last."
"As always," Nathan said, twisting off his beer cap with his shirt. It clattered to the floor.
The city blurred past. Buildings. People. Friday night starting for everyone else.
Noah pulled out his phone.
Noah:leaving now
Sent.
Put his phone on his lap. Screen up.
"You good?" Sam asked, knocking his shoulder.
"Yeah. Fine."
Sam didn't look convinced but let it go.
---
An hour out, the buildings disappeared. Trees took over—thick, dense, endless. Nothing but green and grey and the occasional gas station with rusted signs.
The air changed through the cracked window. Cooler. Cleaner. The metallic city smell replaced by something earthy.
Nathan cracked another beer. "So I heard you've been MIA lately."
Noah looked up from his phone. Still no response from Atlas. "Work's been crazy."
"Right. Work." Nathan grinned. "That what we're calling it?"
"Calling what?"
"Whatever's got you checking your phone every thirty seconds."
Marcus laughed from the front. "Leave him alone."
"I'm just saying—"
"Family stuff," Noah cut in. Firm. The word tasted bitter. "My dad's been... whatever. Not important."
Silence dropped heavy.
Nathan's smile faded. He looked down at his beer. "Yeah. I get that."
The way he said it—quiet, knowing—made Noah glance at him.
"Yours too?" Noah asked.
"Always." Nathan took a long drink. "Family's great until they're not."
Jared turned up the music. Subject closed.
Noah's phone buzzed.
Atlas:have fun
Two words. That's it.
Noah stared at it.
Noah:miss you already
Sent before he could think.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Nothing.
He put his phone in his pocket. Looked out the window.
Trees. Just trees. Stretching forever.
---
The car turned off the main road onto gravel. Branches scraped the sides—sharp, scratching sounds that made everyone wince.
"Jesus," Jared muttered. "How far back is this place?"
"Middle of nowhere," Marcus said. "That's the point."
The trees opened up.
There.
Scribner's Lodge.
The main cabin sat in a clearing, surrounded by smaller ones scattered between trees. All wood and stone—dark logs, green metal roofs, wide porches with rocking chairs. A small lake beyond, catching the last of the afternoon sun, turning the water gold and orange.
Smoke drifted up from somewhere—grill, fire pit, both maybe. Mixed with the smell of pine sap and damp earth and something cooking.
Three cars already parked in the dirt lot. Music coming from the back. Voices. Laughter—the kind that belonged to people with nowhere else to be.
Noah stepped out.
Cold air slapped him. Sharp. Clean. Made his lungs hurt in a good way.
He breathed in. Pine. Woodsmoke. The metallic chill of the woods. Grilled meat somewhere. Beer.
So quiet between the sounds. Just wind through branches. Water lapping against the shore. Birds he couldn't name.
No car horns. No sirens. No city hum.
Different. So different from Manhattan.
"YO!" Someone yelled from around back. Tyler. Definitely drunk already. "FINALLY!"
Marcus grabbed his bag. "Let's go."
---
The front door was unlocked. They walked in.
Warm air hit him—immediate, almost too warm after the cold. The kind that makes your face tingle, your fingers ache as blood returns.
The main room spread out in front of them.
High ceilings with exposed beams—dark wood, old. Stone fireplace taking up the entire left wall, fire already roaring, orange light dancing across everything. Couches that looked older than Noah—worn leather, sagging cushions, blankets thrown over the backs. A coffee table covered in empty beer bottles, someone's muddy boots, a deck of cards scattered.
Everything smelled like smoke and old leather and something sweet—maybe cedar, maybe just age.
Wooden floors creaked under his feet. Every step announced itself.
To the right, narrow stairs with a railing worn smooth by years of hands sliding up it.
Through an open doorway—kitchen. Someone rummaging through a cooler. The clink of bottles.
"Bathroom's downstairs," Alex pointed. "More upstairs. Pick a bed before they're gone."
Noah headed up.
---
The stairs groaned with each step. He gripped the railing—warm, smooth, solid.
Upstairs hallway—narrow, dim, lit by one bare bulb. Doors open showing rooms already claimed. Sleeping bags unrolled. Duffel bags exploded. Jackets thrown on beds. Someone's shoes in the middle of the floor.
He found a room at the end. Two bunk beds. One already taken—sleeping bag, backpack, someone's varsity jacket.
Noah dropped his bag on the empty bottom bunk. The mattress was thin. Springs creaked.
He looked out the window.
Nothing but trees. Darkness already settling between them, turning the spaces between trunks into black. No streetlights. No buildings. No city glow on the horizon.
Just... nothing.
He pulled out his phone.
One bar. Flickering.
Great.
Atlas:good
The message had come through. Finally.
Noah typed: lodge is nice. cold though
Watched the sending bar crawl. Stuck. Stuck. Sent.
He waited. Nothing.
Pocketed his phone.
Headed back down.
---
The backyard wasn't really a yard—just cleared space between trees. Picnic tables scattered around. A fire pit in the center, stones circling it, already blazing. Wood crackling, sparks shooting up into the darkening sky.
Grill next to it, smoking. Luca stood over it, beer in one hand, tongs in the other, flipping burgers.
Everyone else scattered—Tyler and Theo by the fire, Max and Adrian dragging chairs from somewhere, Rowan fighting with a cooler lid.
Ten guys total. All here for the same thing.
Get away. Get drunk. Forget about real life for forty-eight hours.
Noah grabbed a beer from the cooler. Popped it. Took a long drink.
Cold. Bitter. The carbonation burned his throat. Perfect.
"Noah!" Luca called. "Burger?"
"Yeah. Two."
"Smart man."
The fire crackled. Someone had dragged logs around it for seating. Noah sat. Let the heat soak into him—face hot, back cold.
His phone buzzed against his leg.
He ignored it. Took another drink.
Marcus sat next to him. Handed him a second beer. "You're gonna need it."
"That bad?"
"Theo's already three stories in. We're gonna be here a while."
Noah smiled despite himself.
---
They ate like animals.
Burgers dripping grease. Hot dogs charred black. Chips crushed in bags. Someone brought potato salad that nobody touched—just sat there in a plastic container, sweating.
Paper plates on laps. Beers in hand. Talking with mouths full.
The fire threw shadows across faces. Made everyone look younger. Wilder.
"—so then she's like, 'I thought you were single,'" Theo was saying, gesturing with his beer. "And I'm like, 'Technically I am—'"
"Technically nothing!" Tyler threw a chip at him. "You're a fucking disaster."
"I prefer 'romantically flexible.'"
Everyone laughed—loud, careless, the kind that echoed.
Luca shook his head. "Meanwhile my parents are trying to set me up. Again."
"Wait, again?" Sam asked.
"Fourth girl in two months. They won't stop."
"Dude, just say no."
"You try saying no to Italian mothers."
More laughter.
Max leaned back, grinning. "I've got three girlfriends right now. They all know about each other. We have a group chat."
"That's not the flex you think it is," Adrian said.
"Little bit of a flex," Rowan added, smirking.
"You two are so boring," Theo said, pointing at Adrian and Rowan. "Steady relationships. Cute. Disgusting."
"Yeah, yeah," Adrian shoved him. "At least we're not getting cursed out every weekend."
Noah smiled. Drank his beer. Let the noise wash over him.
His phone was in his pocket. Heavy. Present.
He didn't check it.
Not yet.
---
The sun was gone. Full dark. Stars starting to appear—more than Noah had seen in years. The fire the only light now, painting everything orange and black.
Someone opened another case. Bottles passed around. Noah lost count after four. Maybe five.
Warmth spreading through his chest. Looseness in his limbs. The edges of the world softening.
Theo was on another story. Something about a hotel and a girl and her angry ex-boyfriend showing up.
Noah only half-listened.
His phone buzzed against his leg.
He pulled it out. Screen too bright in the darkness. Made everyone near him squint.
Atlas:everything okay?
His chest did something weird. Tightened and loosened at the same time.
He smiled before he could stop himself.
Typed: yeah. having fun. miss you though
Atlas:good
One word.
Noah stared at it. Wanted more. Knew he wouldn't get it.
"Yo."
He looked up. Marcus was watching him. So was Jared.
"What?"
"That smile," Jared said, grinning. "Atlas?"
"Yeah"
"Bullshit. Look at your face."
Noah's face heated. Thank god for the dark. "Shut up."
"Is it a girl?" Theo asked, leaning in.
"Or a guy?" Tyler added.
"Seriously, fuck off."
"That smile though," Rowen said, still grinning.
"It's—" Noah shoved his phone in his pocket. "It's complicated."
"It's always complicated," Alex said knowingly.
They moved on. Someone started talking about something else—a bar, a fight, Noah didn't track it.
But he couldn't stop smiling.
Even when he tried.
---
The fire was dying. Red coals glowing. Most of the beer was gone.
People sprawled everywhere—on logs, on the ground, one guy passed out in a chair with his head back, mouth open.
Noah stared at the embers. Orange. Fading. Like watching time burn down.
His head was fuzzy. The world slightly tilted.
He thought about Atlas. Alone in that big apartment ninety-two floors up. Probably not sleeping. Probably staring at his phone too. Or standing at that window, looking at nothing.
The penthouse was probably silent. No music. No TV. Just Atlas and the city hum.
He wondered if Atlas ever sat in the dark like this. Waiting for a message that wouldn't come.
His chest tightened.
He pulled out his phone.
Started typing: wish you were here
Stopped.
Deleted it.
What was the point? Atlas wouldn't come. This wasn't his scene—dirt and beer and chaos.
And Noah needed this. Space. Friends. Normal twenty-two-year-old shit.
But fuck, he missed him.
"Alright," Marcus stood, stretched. "I'm out. Sleep time."
"Same," Jared said, stumbling slightly.
One by one, everyone got up. Laughing. Shoving each other. Heading inside.
Noah stayed for another minute.
Just him and the dying fire and the cold creeping back in.
His phone screen glowed in his hand.
No new messages.
He locked it. Stood up. Swayed.
Yeah. Definitely drunk.
---
The lodge was chaos.
People claiming couches. Arguing over blankets. Someone brushing their teeth in the kitchen sink. Another guy pissing off the back porch because the bathroom line was too long.
Noah found the stairs. Climbed slowly. Each step an effort. Held the railing tight.
His room was dark. Cold. Someone already snoring from the top bunk—deep, rattling snores.
He didn't bother changing. Just kicked off his shoes. Collapsed onto the bed.
The mattress was hard. Springs dug into his back. Nothing like Atlas's bed.
He pulled out his phone one last time.
Noah:goodnight
Sent.
Put the phone on the floor. Screen down.
Closed his eyes.
The room spun slightly. His stomach rolled once but settled.
He smiled. Told himself it was just two days.
But the bed felt too big without Atlas.
Sleep pulled him under anyway.
---
SATURDAY
Light. Too much light.
Noah groaned. Rolled over. Mistake.
His head throbbed. Immediate. Sharp. Like someone was hitting a drum inside his skull.
He opened his eyes slowly.
Marcus was next to him. Mouth open. Drooling slightly.
Sam and Nathan on the floor in sleeping bags. Someone else—Alexi maybe—curled in a corner.
The room smelled like stale beer and sweat and regret.
Noah sat up carefully. The world tilted.
Fuck.
Shouldn't have drunk that much.
Then—Atlas.
The thought hit him like cold water.
First morning without him in... how long? Weeks?
He thought about yesterday morning. Atlas's arm around him, pulling him close even in sleep. The warmth. The weight. Waking up to lips on his shoulder.
This—hard mattress, hangover, Marcus's snoring—was not the same.
His chest tightened.
He grabbed his phone.
Noah:morning. feel like death
Sent.
Stared at the screen. Waiting.
Nothing.
He set it down. Stood up. Head spinning.
Needed water. Needed air. Needed—
He stopped himself.
Get it together.
Bathroom first.
---
The shower was tiny. Water pressure weak. Nothing like Atlas's rain shower with perfect temperature control.
He stood under the lukewarm spray anyway. Let it wake him up. Wash away the beer smell.
When he got out, his phone was lit up.
Atlas:morning
One word. That's it.
Noah stared at it.
Typed: miss waking up with you
Deleted it.
Typed: how'd you sleep?
Deleted that too.
Just left it.
Got dressed. Went to find coffee.
---
Someone had made coffee. Weak. Bitter. But hot.
Noah sat on the porch steps, mug warming his hands. The cold air felt good on his face.
The lake was visible from here through the trees. Morning mist rising off the water. Sunlight cutting through, turning everything gold.
Beautiful. Quiet. Peaceful.
He should've felt good.
He just felt... incomplete.
"You look like shit," Adrian said, sitting next to him.
"Thanks."
"How's the head?"
"Pounding."
"Same." Adrian sipped his coffee. Made a face. "This is terrible."
"Yeah."
They sat in silence for a minute.
"You texted last night," Adrian said. "Like, smiling at your phone texted."
Noah didn't answer.
"It's Atlas, isn't it?"
Noah's head snapped up. "How—"
"Come on. We're not stupid." Adrain smiled. "You've been different. Happier. Then disappeared half the time. Now you're here but not really here."
Noah looked down at his coffee. "It's complicated."
"Because of your family?"
"Because of everything."
Adrain nodded. "For what it's worth—you seem good with him. Whoever he is."
"I am."
"Then fuck complicated."
Noah smiled despite himself.
---
"Alright, move your asses!" Tyler yelled from the yard. "We're hiking."
Groans from inside.
"Come on! Fresh air! Nature! All that shit!"
More groans.
But everyone went. Because that's what you did. You complained and then you went anyway.
---
The path was narrow. Dirt and roots and rocks. Steep in places. They moved in a messy line—some ahead, some lagging, everyone talking over each other.
Noah was in the middle. Hands in his pockets. Watching his feet.
Sunlight filtered through the trees in patches. Bright then dark then bright again. The air smelled like dirt and pine needles and something sweet he couldn't name.
Every few steps, a branch would brush his shoulder. He'd duck. Keep walking.
Somewhere behind him, someone laughed—deep, careless, the kind of laugh that belonged to people who had nothing to prove.
"You good back there?" Marcus called.
"Yeah."
But he wasn't really here. His mind was ninety miles away in a penthouse where someone was probably doing nothing. Just existing. Alone.
They reached a clearing. View opened up—valley below, mountains beyond, sky so blue it hurt to look at.
"Holy shit," Sam said.
Everyone stopped. Took it in.
Tyler pulled out his phone. Started taking pictures. "This is going straight to Instagram."
"No signal up here," Nathan said.
"I'll post it later."
Noah stood at the edge. Wind in his face. Cold. Clean.
It should've been perfect.
Maybe it was.
But every time he saw a shadow move beside him, he half expected it to be Atlas. Turning to say something dry. Something that would make Noah smile.
He pulled out his phone anyway. No signal. No bars. Nothing.
Just him and the mountains and the space where Atlas should've been.
---
Back at the lodge, some guys went to the lake.
The water was freezing. Nobody cared.
Theo and Tyler stripped to their boxers. Ran in screaming. Came out thirty seconds later, lips blue, shivering.
"Fuck that!"
"I told you!"
Everyone laughed.
Noah sat on the dock. Feet dangling over the edge. Not touching the water.
His phone was in his hand. Two bars here. Weak but there.
He stared at Atlas's name.
Should he call? Would that be weird? They'd texted this morning. That was enough, right?
But he wanted to hear his voice.
Across the lawn, Adrian and Rowan were on the porch. Both on their phones. FaceTime with their girlfriends probably.
Noah watched them. The way they smiled. Laughed. Relaxed. Easy.
Like being apart was hard but manageable. Like they knew exactly where they stood.
Noah didn't have that. He had secrets and complications and a family who'd lose their shit if they knew.
But he also had Atlas. And that had to count for something.
He pressed call before he could overthink it.
Two rings.
Atlas's face filled the screen.
"Hey."
Noah's chest loosened. "Hey."
Atlas was in the living room. Grey joggers. Black t-shirt. Hair messy—like he'd been lying down or running his hands through it. The penthouse windows behind him showing the city skyline. Afternoon light cutting across the empty space.
No one else there. Just him.
"You okay?" Atlas asked.
"Yeah. Just—" Noah looked around. Made sure no one was close. "Wanted to see you."
Something shifted in Atlas's expression. Soft. Just for a second. "How's the lodge?"
"Cold. Loud. Everyone's drunk by noon." Noah smiled. "Very... not you."
Atlas's mouth curved. Almost a smile. "Sounds terrible."
"Little bit." Noah leaned back against the dock post. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
The word hung there. Heavy.
Noah frowned. "Nothing?"
Atlas looked away from the camera. "Went to the gym this morning. Came back. That's it."
"It's Saturday."
"I know."
Silence. Not comfortable. Weighted.
Noah saw it then—the apartment behind Atlas. Too big. Too quiet. Empty couch. Empty kitchen. No Noah making coffee. No Noah filling the space.
Just Atlas. Alone. For the first time in weeks.
They were quiet for a moment. Just looking at each other through pixels and distance.
The wind picked up. Noah shivered.
"You're cold," Atlas said.
"I'm fine."
"Noah."
"Okay, I'm cold. But it's nice. The lake. The trees. All of it." He paused. "I miss you."
Atlas was quiet. Then: "Tomorrow night."
"I know."
"You having fun?" Atlas asked. His voice careful. Controlled.
"Yeah. I mean—" Noah stopped. "Yeah. But I miss you."
"Good."
"Good that I'm having fun or good that I miss you?"
"Both."
Noah wanted to ask: Are you okay? What did you do all day? Are you lonely?
But he couldn't. Because Atlas wouldn't answer honestly anyway.
"I'm glad you went," Atlas said instead.
Noah's throat tightened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Neither hung up right away. Just stayed there. Connected through a shitty WiFi signal and two hundred miles.
Finally, Atlas said, "Go. Your friends are waiting."
Noah glanced back. Tyler was yelling something about the grill.
"Okay." He didn't move.
"Noah."
"Going." He smiled. "I'll text you later."
"Drive safe tomorrow."
"I will."
Atlas held his gaze through the screen. Said nothing. But his eyes—darker than usual, tired maybe—said enough.
"Bye," Noah whispered.
"Bye."
The screen went dark.
Noah sat there for a minute. Staring at his reflection in the blank phone.
Tomorrow.
He could do one more day.
---
They grilled again. More burgers. Hot dogs. Someone brought steaks that were way too expensive for a camping trip.
The fire was bigger tonight. Someone had dragged more logs over. The flames reached higher, crackling loud, throwing heat and light in equal measure.
Beer. Music from someone's Bluetooth speaker. Laughter.
Noah was on his third beer. Maybe fourth. Losing count again.
Theo was telling another story. Luca was arguing about soccer. Max was showing everyone pictures of his three girlfriends—"See? They're all cool with it."
Noah smiled. Laughed when he was supposed to. Drank when someone handed him a bottle.
But his mind kept drifting.
His phone buzzed.
Atlas:you should eat something
Noah stared at it. Smiled.
Noah:already did. burgers
Atlas:drink water
Noah:yes baby
Atlas:Noah
Noah:kidding. im being good
Atlas:doubt it
Noah laughed out loud.
"There it is again," Jared said, pointing. "That smile."
"What smile?"
"The phone smile. The secret smile."
"I don't have a secret smile."
"You absolutely do," Marcus said.
Noah shoved his phone in his pocket. Face hot. "Shut up."
But he was still smiling.
---
The fire was dying down. Embers glowing red and orange.
Most people had gone to bed. Passed out. Whatever.
Just Noah, Marcus, and Jared left. Sitting close to the fire for warmth.
Quiet. Just the crackling and the distant sound of water lapping.
Theo poked the fire with a stick. Sparks shot up. "You doing better?"
Noah looked at him. "What?"
"You seem... Different lately."
"Different how?"
"Happier," Jared said. "But also more stressed. Like both at the same time."
Noah took a drink. "That obvious?"
"Little bit."
Rowen leaned forward. "Is it your family? Or the other thing?"
The other thing. Atlas.
Noah didn't say his name. But his face must have given it away.
"Ah," Rowen said. Understanding.
"It's complicated," Noah said quietly.
"When isn't it?"
Rowen shifted. "But you're happy though? With him?"
Was he?
Noah thought about it. The secrecy. The hiding. The way his dad would explode if he knew. The way his mom would cry.
But also—the way Atlas looked at him. The way he felt safe for the first time in years. The way everything made sense when they were together even when nothing else did.
"Yeah," Noah said. Voice rough. "I am."
Marcus nodded. "Then fuck the rest."
"Easy to say."
"Doesn't make it less true."
They sat in silence. The fire popped. Settled.
"You'll figure it out," Jared said eventually. "You always do."
Noah hoped so.
His phone buzzed.
Atlas:go to sleep
Noah:how do you know im still awake
Atlas:I know you
Noah smiled. Typed: fine. goodnight
Atlas:goodnight
He stood up. Swayed slightly. "I'm out."
"Same," Marcus said.
They kicked dirt over the fire. Made sure it was dead. Headed inside.
The lodge was dark. Quiet. Just snoring from various rooms.
Noah climbed the stairs. Found his bed. Collapsed.
Pulled out his phone one last time.
Stared at their conversation.
I know you.
Yeah. He did.
Noah set his phone down. Closed his eyes.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd see him.
Sleep came easier tonight.
---
SUNDAY
Noah woke up to someone throwing a pillow at him.
"Get up. We're leaving in an hour."
He groaned. Sat up. Head hurt but not as bad as yesterday.
Around him—chaos. Everyone packing. Shoving clothes in bags. Looking for lost shoes.
"Has anyone seen my charger?"
"Who the fuck took my toothbrush?"
"That's been there the whole time, dumbass."
Noah smiled. Packed his stuff. Slow. Taking his time.
Last morning here. Back to reality in a few hours.
Back to Atlas.
His chest tightened. Good tight. Anticipation tight.
He checked his phone.
Atlas:what time are you leaving?
Noah:around 15.
Atlas:let me know when you're close
Noah:okay
He stared at the message. Wanted to say more. Didn't know what.
Just: cant wait to see you
Sent it before he could overthink.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Atlas:same
One word. But it was enough.
---
The car was quieter on the way back.
Everyone tired. Hungover. Satisfied.
Music playing low. No one singing along.
Noah sat in the back. Window cracked. Cold air on his face.
The trees blurred past. Then buildings started appearing. Scattered. Then closer together. Then everywhere.
The city coming back into view.
Marcus drove steady. Jared dozed in the passenger seat. Sam and Nathan asleep in the back.
Noah's phone was in his hand. Not checking it obsessively. Just holding it.
Waiting.
The skyline appeared just before noon. Sharp against the pale sky.
Noah's heart beat faster.
Almost there.
---
They hit city traffic. Slowed to a crawl.
Noah's leg bounced. He couldn't help it.
Marcus glanced at him in the rearview. "You good?"
"Yeah. Just ready to be back."
Marcus smiled. "I bet."
---
Noah grabbed his bag. "Thanks for driving."
"Anytime, man."
"See you next weekend?"
"Yeah. Maybe."
They did that guy-hug thing. Quick. Backslapping.
Noah stepped back. Watched the car pull away.
His heart was beating too fast. Stupid. It had only been two days.
But it felt longer.
Noah walked faster.