Chapter 12
MILES
“I have something for you.” Miles pounced as soon as Zach walked through the door. “I found it in my suitcase while putting away souvenirs. Can’t believe I didn’t remember earlier.”
Zach squeezed past and let the bag slip off his shoulder onto the worn couch cushion. “Sounds intriguing. What is it?”
Miles waited until he turned around before proudly revealing the surprise in his hand. Zach’s tired eyes softened and radiated delight as he stepped forward and rubbed his thumb along their horseshoe.
They’d found it half-buried in the dirt along the fence that separated their farms. It was right around first or second grade, when their obsession with cowboys was at its peak, and any horse-related paraphernalia was deemed a treasure.
Even a broken horseshoe. They could have easily asked their parents to buy them a new one at the farm supply store, but finding one in the wild and speculating about where it came from was far more alluring.
As one of their most prized possessions, it belonged to both of them, constantly traveling back and forth between their households.
As they grew up, the horseshoe became a talisman, a good luck charm they presented to each other in times of celebration or need.
Sadly, their distance had brought a stop to the tradition.
Miles had tucked it into Zach’s suitcase on the eve of his move to Portland, and Zach had returned it the following year without any explanation.
Since then, it had followed Miles everywhere he went.
Zach’s turn was long overdue.
“I thought you’d forgotten about it,” Zach whispered, gingerly wrapping his fingers around the rusted metal.
Miles scoffed at the implication that this wasn’t one of his most cherished possessions. “Hard to forget about, considering it lives on top of my desk at school.”
Surprise flashed in Zach’s eyes, but he quickly schooled his expression and walked to the bookshelf. The uneven shape was difficult to stand upright, but he eventually succeeded in leaning it against a stack of textbooks. “I guess it’s my turn to have all the luck.”
Luck wasn’t the main thing on Miles’s mind.
Zach was brave, one of the bravest people Miles had ever met, and he was headstrong.
No doubt he would forge his own path, and while Miles wanted that for him, he was also terrified of what it meant.
With Zach pulling away from his family and his old life, Miles had to find a way to maintain their connection, and if that wasn’t possible, at least make sure Zach had something tangible to remember him by.
He ached to be a part of Zach’s existence in whatever way distance would allow, the longing so fierce that he was willing to give up the soothing comfort of running his fingers across the familiar shape whenever he missed his best friend.
Zach made sure the horseshoe wouldn’t tip over and muttered something about food before going to the kitchen.
Miles stayed transfixed on the dingy brown-gray metal.
It seemed so out of place next to the glossy spines of Zach’s books, and wasn’t that the perfect metaphor for their friendship?
Miles and his quiet, boring life would always pale in comparison to Zach’s shine.
The unease percolated in his brain for the rest of the afternoon, bubbling to the surface after dinner. One way or another, he had to know. As soon as they finished eating, he grabbed Zach’s hand and pulled him to the couch for a conversation. It was time.
“Talk to me, Zee.”
“About what?”
“About everything. Tell me why you’re taking classes you don’t need instead of going home. Tell me what’s going on with your family. And tell me the truth—are you staying here after you graduate?”
The shock written across Zach’s face would have been comical if Miles hadn’t been so worked up. He’d suppressed his emotions for months, letting Zach live his own life without questioning him, watching helplessly as his best friend slowly faded from his life, and he’d reached his breaking point.
“Why do you think I’m staying?” Zach asked, his voice thin and trembling.
“Because I know you, Zach!” Miles snapped in frustration, hopping off the couch and pacing a tight circle around it before coming back.
“I know you. I can read you. And it’s been really obvious for the past year that you have no intention of coming back to Montana.
You’ll probably stay here and get a job, or another degree, or something, and I want you to do what makes you happy, but by leaving your old life behind, you’re leaving me behind. And you seem fine with that.”
A sharp sting behind his eyes made his vision blur, and he turned away so Zach wouldn’t see.
His gaze fell on the horseshoe, and he marched over and pointed to it.
“This is my favorite thing in the world. My most treasured possession. I look at it and hold it every day, thinking about you and wondering how you are. And now I’m giving it to you—knowing I’ll never see it again, wondering if I’ll ever see you again—because I want you to have some kind of reminder that I exist.”
A tear escaped, rushing down his cheek, and Miles quickly wiped it off with his thumb and paced toward the window.
With the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, he forced back the rising tide of emotion and drew a deep, steadying breath.
Before he could take another, Zach’s arms were wrapped around him, his warm face resting against Miles’s spine.
“Shit, Miles, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset. I was gonna tell you soon, I promise. I wouldn’t have left without saying something.”
“But you are leaving.” It wasn’t a question. Miles knew it in his heart. He’d known for a while, but having it confirmed still filled his stomach with cold dread.
Behind him, Zach sighed and gently pushed his forehead into the nape of Miles’s neck. “I don’t want to leave you, but you know we’ve always had different paths. You’re going back next year, and I can’t. I just can’t.”
Miles whirled around in alarm, grabbing Zach’s hands to keep him from stumbling back. “Did something happen?”
“No.” Zach shook his head mournfully. “But I don’t belong there.”
“Are you worried about coming out to your family?” Miles whispered. He hated that his sweet Zach, one of the loveliest people in the world, had to deal with judgment he didn’t deserve. It wasn’t fair.
“I am. I’m scared, Miles. I was gonna tell them over the holidays, and I spent hours thinking about what to say, trying to come up with a perfect combination of words that would result in them not hating me.
I hyped myself so much, I actually…” He let out a hollow laugh that made Miles’s insides clench.
“I actually believed it could work out. Portland must have gotten under my skin, and you were so cool about the whole thing, I forgot what to expect.”
“What happened?”
Zach shrugged with resignation and shook his head.
“Nothing. Halfway through dinner on my first night back, Jerry and Abe were talking about some TV show, and I guess one of the characters is gay because my dad went on this huge rant. Something along the lines of Everything has to be woke these days, and isn’t it enough that they’re allowed to marry now, why do they have to keep shoving their lifestyle in everyone’s face?
And then my mom had to jump in, talking about how liberals are promoting mental illness, and those poor people are only the way they are because they had terrible childhoods, and I just…
I fucking couldn’t. What do you say to that?
When your own dad thinks your existence is an affront to his values and your mom is convinced that anyone who’s not cis and straight is mentally ill, what do you fucking say to that?
” His shoulders sagged, and he sounded exhausted. “There’s no point in even trying.”
“Oh, Zach.” Miles surged forward, clutching him in a fierce embrace.
The sting in his eyes had been intensifying with every word Zach choked out, and now the burning heat of his unshed tears threatened to wash him away.
He couldn’t bear the defeat in Zach’s voice, the bitter edge of despair.
Waves of impotent fury pulsed through him as a desperate, helpless ache clawed at him, screaming for him to do something—anything—to make it stop.
But there was nothing, nothing he could do.
As much as it hurt, he wasn’t surprised to hear the shitty things Zach’s parents said.
He’d heard similar stuff from his own parents and their neighbors.
Statistically, there had to be people in their tiny, conservative town who were gay, or at least allies, but if there were, they kept themselves well-hidden.
Zach trembled against him, his breathing ragged, and Miles guided him to the couch and sank down without loosening his grip. If all Miles could offer was this—his love, his touch, his shoulder to cry on—then he would be the steadiest, most supportive fucking shoulder in the world.
He could have sat there forever, but the loud wail of a car alarm nearby pierced the air, startling them, and Zach pulled back with a soft sniffle.
His red-rimmed eyes made Miles want to rage against the world, to cover Zach with his own body like a protective blanket, to prevent anything bad from ever happening to him.
If only he could.
“So…yeah,” Zach said. “I decided I wasn’t gonna tell them. They’ll be mad when they find out I’m not coming back, but it’s better than getting disowned.”
“You really think they’d disown you?”
Zach sighed and climbed off Miles’s lap, tucking himself into the corner of the couch. “I don’t know, and I’d rather not find out.”
Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about this anymore, so Miles decided to change the topic.
“What’s the plan for after you graduate?”
“I’m gonna get an MBA,” Zach said with determination.
“I want to work in marketing, something with analytics, and the master’s program covers a lot of different areas to choose from.
There are scholarships I can apply for, financial support, loans, and I have a part-time job during the year. I’ll be okay.”
“I’m so proud of you, Zee.” Miles put his hand over Zach’s and squeezed tight.
He barely let go of him for the rest of the day—twining their fingers together through a discussion of their plans and hopes for the future, sitting thigh to thigh on the couch as Zach did homework, bumping shoulders as they cooked dinner in the tiny kitchen.
Then, as soon as the lights were off, finding Zach’s hand under the comforter.
They’d always been affectionate with one another, but this was different.
Better.
Zach’s breathing evened out as he fell asleep, but Miles’s heart thumped too quickly and loudly for him to do the same.
He didn’t know how to feel, what to think.
A part of him was proud, so proud of his best friend.
Zach was bright and eager, destined for amazing things, and while farm life was pleasant in a lot of ways, he couldn’t see Zach leading a quiet life. This was the right choice for him.
Yet another, much larger part was mourning the eventual loss.
He couldn’t help torturing himself by imagining the inevitable chain of events.
They’d try to stay in touch, but eventually Zach would get busy and fade away.
He might visit his family every few years for the holidays, looking older and different every time Miles would see him, and they’d have less and less in common until their brief chats were nothing but small talk.
One year, Zach would get married. There’d be children, professional successes, important milestones, things that Miles would find out about months later, second-hand through the town gossip.
He’d be left on the sidelines, working at the family farm despite having no interest in doing so, reduced to a childhood friend Zach might remember fondly every once in a while.
He screwed his eyes shut and tried to banish the unpleasant thoughts. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this future come to pass, not when there were glimpses of another future, a tantalizing path that shimmered in front of him like a mirage.
A life where he went against his parents’ wishes.
He’d imagined it before, getting lost in elaborate daydreams of traveling the country and returning to an apartment in a large city, of museums on the weekends. Of freedom from his father’s constraints.
Now, he had something far more enticing and dangerous to dream about.
Zach.
He fit into Miles’s invented scenarios seamlessly. They could get a bigger apartment, eat dinner and talk about their days every night, walk side by side through art exhibits, cuddle up to each other in bed, and make coffee every morning.
Did this mean Miles was gay? Bi? He wasn’t sure. All he knew for certain were two things.
One—kissing Zach had been the most natural thing in the world, like breathing fresh air, like watching the sun set behind golden fields of wheat, like pulling on his favorite worn-in pair of jeans.
And two—Miles was desperate to fall asleep to the sound of his best friend’s soft breathing every night for the rest of his life.