Chapter 22 #3
“Oh, shit, that’s right. College chicks have gotta be way hotter than anyone here, yeah?” Abe widened his eyes in question, and Zach suddenly wanted to cry. He was so tired of the lies. So exhausted. So mentally drained. How long could he keep this up before he was stretched too thin and snapped?
“Yep.” He popped the p and hopped back on his feet, determined to get out of there before he said something he would regret. “Tons of hot chicks in Portland. The hottest. I’m gonna head back. Have fun. Don’t blow yourselves up.”
He strode away without waiting for a response. The lights of the backyard twinkled through the trees, blurry and distant, like a world he wasn’t sure he belonged to anymore. Raymond’s advice echoed in his head. Or was it a warning?
Don’t do this to yourself, Zach.
Raymond had spoken from the kind of experience that left scars.
He loved Max but was reduced to living on the sidelines of his life—stealing moments, fighting for scraps of time, powerless and out of the loop when anything real happened.
If Max had died in that hospital bed, Raymond wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye, to grieve his loss.
After their brief conversation, Zach had assumed the advice to mean Don’t follow in my footsteps and date a Carter sibling in secret. Be free. Go back to Portland and forget this life.
But maybe it had nothing to do with Miles at all. Maybe Raymond had been reaching out to him—one closeted man to another—to offer the only lifeline he could. Maybe the message had been closer to Don’t pretend. Don’t live in the shadows. Don’t let them chip pieces off you until there’s nothing left.
Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
Zach had decided months ago not to come out to his parents. He didn’t need a crystal ball to know how poorly that would go. But he was leaving in the morning. The plan was to stay in Portland and limit contact with his family anyway.
What did he really have to lose?
With every step closer to the party, his conviction grew. He would do it.
He needed to do it.
The only thing that made him pause was Miles. He wished…fuck, he wished he could say goodbye. But if they talked now, Zach would fall apart, and Miles—sweet, earnest Miles—would probably end up blowing up his own life to fix Zach’s.
He would be upset at Zach’s sudden departure, but he’d be fine after the dust settled. This whole thing between them had barely begun. A blip on the radar of life.
Regardless of what he felt now, Miles would get over Zach.
The idea of Miles moving on hit like a blade under Zach’s ribs, sharp enough to bring tears to his eyes. It didn’t matter. Zach would get over him too. Eventually.
He wiped his face with the heel of his hand.
No more secrets.
Skirting around the backyard to avoid attention, he slipped through the front door and ran up the stairs.
Packing didn’t take much time, since he hadn’t brought much to begin with.
He scanned the room in a panic, mentally cataloging his belongings.
If everything went as he suspected it would—and Zach had never been surer of anything—this was his last time here.
If he wanted something, he needed to get it now.
He scanned the spines on the shelf, picking out a few favorite books to shove into his carry-on.
On a whim, he grabbed the Lord of the Rings box set and placed it on Jerry’s bed.
As farewell gifts went, it wasn’t great, but Zach didn’t have the time or energy for something more elaborate to let Jerry and Abe know that even if they never talked to him again, he still loved them.
That was a lot of emotional weight to carry, but if any movie could do it, it was his favorite trilogy.
After a moment of hesitation, he slipped out into the hallway and grabbed a family photograph off the wall. As he slid it into the front pocket of his suitcase, his fingers brushed against cold metal.
Fuck, he couldn’t leave Miles like this. But what could he possibly say that would do any good? What magic words could he come up with to make Miles hate him any less after leaving like this? Besides, the hatred would make it easier for Miles to get over him.
Still, Miles deserved an explanation.
After hastily scribbling a few words on a piece of scrap paper, Zach shoved it in his pocket.
It was time.
He descended slowly, setting his bag by the door before going into the kitchen.
His mom stood at the counter with a spatula, scent of freshly baked cookies heavy in the air.
Her face spread into a smile when she looked up, but it quickly shifted to a frown as she took in his expression. “Zach? What’s wrong?”
A string of fake pearls hung around her neck, the first birthday gift Zach had bought her with his own money after getting a part-time job bagging groceries.
It must have been about six years ago, and the wear and tear had caused the paint to flake off in spots, revealing the cheap plastic underneath. Yet she wore it. She still wore it.
Something cracked inside Zach. Tears sprang to his eyes, and no matter how much he tried to fight them back, one escaped.
“Mom, I have to tell you something.” His voice wobbled. “I’m leaving.”
“Now? I thought your flight was in the morning.” She stepped toward him, her features creased with concern. “What’s going on?”
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. In a few seconds, everything would change.
But that was what he wanted.
“I’m gay,” he said quietly. “And I’m staying in Portland after I graduate.”
She flinched and took a small step back.
“Oh.”
Walking back to the counter, she acted like nothing had happened, carefully picking up a cookie from the baking sheet and setting it down on the platter.
“You should have told us sooner,” she said flatly, repeating the process until the baking sheet was empty. “We could have…done something. Gotten you someone to talk to.”
Zach’s stomach churned. “I don’t need anyone to talk to,” he said in a small voice, almost pleading. “There’s nothing to change. This is who I am.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not. You’re a good boy. It’s that city! Oh, I should never have let you go so far away.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she sagged onto a stool, and tears filled her eyes, shock and fear mingling into something that felt like a slap in the face. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “This isn’t how you were raised, Zachariah. I don’t know what I did wrong.”
And that, that was the part that broke him. She blamed herself, as though his being gay meant she’d failed as a parent. She was crying for him like he was already lost.
He’d expected this, known it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to see the pain in her eyes. The disappointment. The misplaced hope that he might yet be fixed.
“I don’t—”
“No!” Her voice went up a few octaves as she slapped her hand on the counter. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. You’re too young. You’re confused. Please, Zach, please think about what this will do to your father. To all of us. What will the neighbors say?”
There it was. Proof of his mother’s priorities.
His body was numb. Whatever shred of hope he’d been holding onto—somewhere deep, deep inside his soul—was lost. He noted the anger on his mother’s face with a detached feeling, as if watching a film, some kind of tragic drama. As if he wasn’t in the middle of the worst moment of his life.
“Mom, I’m an adult. I’ve always known who I am. Whatever nonsense you’re reading online is wrong—who I love is not a choice.” He swallowed hard. “But hiding was a choice, and right now, I’m choosing myself.”
He was proud of getting all of that out without breaking down, and it didn’t matter that she’d been shaking her head through every word. He did it for himself.
“Should I go?” he asked softly. It was a rhetorical question. There was no universe in which she’d listen to reason, calm down, ask him to stay and talk. Because he’d already abandoned any hope of a good outcome, he wasn’t surprised when she pressed her lips together and turned away.
Zach gritted his teeth and cast one final look around the house where he grew up, then grabbed his bag and stepped out the front door, letting it click shut behind him.
There was just one thing left to do.
Most of the guests had parked along the side of the road in a long line, but Miles’s truck was sitting in the driveway, since he’d driven Max.
It was unlocked, as always, and Zach gingerly placed the wrinkled note and the horseshoe on the dashboard.
Would Miles still want it after tonight?
He hoped so, desperately wishing a part of him would always stay with Miles, but it was out of his hands now.
He was done here.
After getting into the rental, he fastened his seatbelt and carefully pulled out of the driveway.
Fireworks lit up the sky behind him as he drove, pops of color blurred by the tears streaming down his face. Every mile he put between himself and his former home felt like an insurmountable distance. He would never go back.
He burned all the bridges tonight.