“Yes, this is a road,” he said, and I grabbed the handle above the door of the truck to steady myself. Hayes thought it would be fun to take a detour just over the Pennsylvania border to the northern tip of West Virginia to spend one night camping on the way to his interview. I was certain I could get him to change his mind before we left but when I saw all the stuff he packed and how much he enjoyed preparing everything, I decided that I could go against everything in my being for one night and sleep outside.
“There isn’t a signal in the mountains but I’m using one of these things.” He pointed to the crumbled paper on the dashboard. “This is called a map. It’s made of paper. See all those lines? Those are roads, and we are on that little windy one right now. Don’t worry. I would never let anything bad happen to you.” He took his eyes off the road to smile at me. I moved my hand over toward him so it could rest on his thigh as we bounced along.
We headed deeper into the forests of West Virginia, leaving all signs of civilization behind. Eventually we drove up to a brown wood-shingled hut with a sign that read “Morgantown Mountain”. A ranger in an actual ranger hat with the dented top and extra wide brim checked us in and warned us that it might get below freezing overnight.
“Thank you, sir,” Hayes said, and then put his hand over mine on his thigh away from the view of the ranger. “I’ve got everything I need.” The ranger nodded and handed Hayes a permit for the windshield and another paper map.
Tall pine trees created a canyon of green as we drove away from the gate and up the switchbacks to our spot. Since it was still spring the place was empty. A few brightly colored tents off in the distance poked between the trees but the higher we got, the fewer we saw.
I don’t know what I was expecting when we finally got to “the site.” Not fluffy white towels or little bottles of local soaps and creams. But also not a flat patch of dirt with an iron ring and a picnic table. I craned my neck to make sure it was safe before I got out.
Hayes opened the back of the truck and we started taking out all the gear. One by one he showed me how to set up each part – the tent, the chairs, the cooking area. How to start a fire. How to filter water. It was like building a little village together, and each piece had its part to play. The tent was a fascinating structure with poles and stakes that had to be connected in just the right way. We set up an air mattress and two sleeping bags. Hayes’ had a Star Wars theme and the other had belonged to his sisters with a My Pretty Pony theme in pastel pinks and purples.
“Usually I sleep on the ground, but I wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable, so I ordered this air mattress at Shinemart.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I’d be fine on the ground.” As the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized I meant them. I actually meant them. Before we left, I was full of fabricated optimism. I didn’t mean a word of it, but I thought a good attitude would please Hayes. But after setting everything up together and taking in the fresh air and beautiful surroundings, I started to feel a part of all of it. I liked the way we built what we would use. The teamwork felt so natural and familiar even though I’d never even thought about camping. I had started to feel like my comfort zone was something that had been assigned to me at some point growing up and I had simply accepted it. That day I felt it expanding.
Once we got everything set up, we walked to the edge of the site where the trees cleared and you could see the entire valley below. We were high above the world with nothing but forest, farmland and meadows as far as we could see. Hayes took a deep breath and then put his arm around my shoulders. Together we stood there in a quiet silence that wrapped around both of us. You could make out different patches of land and farms below us and across the nearby Pennsylvania border. A long highway ran from one end of the valley to the other and there were clusters of homes along it but the mountains, newly green and eternal, dominated the landscape. How could anyone not feel at peace here?
I took out my phone and Hayes held it in front of him to snap a few pictures for my Media Ecology class assignment. I snapped some pictures of the tent and the view and then splashed Hayes with some water from the creek before snapping a selfie of us together.
“You never went on a camping vacation with your family as a kid?” Hayes asked, even though I had told him before that we didn’t. It was such a part of his youth he couldn’t imagine.
“No, never. My dad worked a lot and my mom is not exactly outdoorsy.” Both of our dads worked a lot. Hayes’ dad held down two jobs to keep Hayes and his sisters clothed and fed. My dad was at the helm of our family’s firm and negotiated contracts between world leaders and mega-corporations. I always tried to be honest about my background but I hadn’t painted the picture with too much definition because the details of my privilege were beginning to nauseate me.
I went to Clarkson because my dad did, and his dad did, and blah, blah. But I wanted to go because I thought I would get a chance to meet a bunch of people who were different than the ones I grew up with. I wish I could say that boarding school defied stereotypes but my experience taught me that boarding school produced them, and I was part of that assembly line. I fit the mold for the party boy bubble brain and I played the part perfectly. I even enjoyed it. But when I met Hayes all that changed. I felt I could transform with him by my side. I wanted to be something different. Something more.
“It was fun setting up camp,” I admitted sitting by the fire, wearing an old sweatshirt of his that he packed for me because he knew I’d forget. “I liked seeing how all the pieces fit together and the way we had to work together to stretch the tent so the poles fit or vent the fire so it would stay lit.”
Hayes took his arm off of my shoulder and turned toward me. “You’re incredible. You know that?”
I immediately felt self-conscious. There wasn’t a mirror around but I could tell my clothes were covered in dirt from the set-up and my hair was sweaty and falling in my face.
“Hayes, I’m kind of a mess right now. But thank you?” I said, not sure that was the right response.
“I don’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful. The sunset is making your skin glow and… and… it’s…” He trailed off, his eyes darting away and then back to mine.
“What?”
I knew Hayes struggled with translating his emotions into words and I could feel there was a big one coming up, so I kept quiet and gave him the space to find the words he wanted.
“I know you agreed to go camping with me because you wanted to be nice, but it wasn’t just that. You’re always open to new things. And I want to tell you something.” He turned so he was facing me. I tried to search his blue-grey eyes to see if I could predict what he might say. “Brady, something changed for me recently, and I think I need to tell you. It’s the right thing to do,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I said. Was he going to break up with me?
“And when we were putting the tent together just now. This evening. I knew it.”
I thought my emotional radar must need repair. I’d felt so connected to him when we were working together to set up camp. It was one of these small events that made me think I could see us setting up a house together, or maybe even a life.
The sun had almost disappeared from the sky. I knew from my Introduction to World Cinema class that was what cinematographers called the golden hour. We were both bathed in a rose gold light as day gave way to night.
“What I’m trying to say, Brady, is that I feel this connection with you. I have fun when I’m with you, but it’s more than that. I can be myself and let go. It’s like when we’re together, I can finally unclench or something.” He held my hands in his and I began to think this might be going in a better direction. “Brady, you don’t have to say anything after what I’m about to say, but I need to say it or else I’ll stroke out.”
He took a pause that felt longer than my Stats lecture and then he laced our fingers together.
“Brady, I love you.”
“Hayes, I love you, too.” I didn’t even think. I didn’t need to. I knew I loved him. I had been trying to push the feeling deep down so I could suffocate it, if need be. I had never felt this much, this strongly, about anyone. On paper we were not supposed to work at all, but we did.
