Page 1 of Zero Confusion

Chapter 1

ZACH

“Read at least five articles by next class and be prepared to discuss. Dismissed.”

Subdued groans echoed around the room. No one was thrilled about spending a sunny weekend buried in reading, but not a single student would dare voice a complaint to their stern professor.

“Summer classes were a terrible idea,” Zach grumbled, struggling to jam a hefty stack of printouts into his bag. Most classes posted everything online, and he was used to getting by with his laptop. He didn’t even own a backpack.

A smear of black on his fingers made him sigh in defeat. Not only did dozens of poor trees die for this assignment, he was getting ink all over his hands.

“I told you,” Joel said with an amused smirk. “You refused to listen.”

“You’re dramatic on the best of days. I assumed you were exaggerating.”

“A mistake you’ll never make again.” Joel snickered. “Dude, just carry it. It’s not gonna fit.”

“That’s what he said?” Zach quipped and pressed the papers to his chest as they left the classroom.

“Wow, that’s original. Been saving that one?”

“You know it.”

Zach winked and blew him a kiss. Joel laughed, pretending to catch and shove it into his pocket.

Their friendship had caught Zach by surprise. He hadn’t expected to befriend a rich California kid—especially not one who acted like he’d stepped out of a fashion ad—but sharing a major meant three years of taking the same classes, endless group projects, and late-night caffeine-fueled study sessions. Somewhere along the way, they clicked. Whether it was because they were both fluent in sarcasm and equally annoyed by early-morning lectures, or in need of a friend while far from home, Zach couldn’t say. All he knew was that without Joel, he would have become a hermit long ago.

They reached the edge of the parking lot, where their paths split. Joel paused, his earlier grin fading. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right? Even with that literal mountain of homework?”

“Obviously,” Zach said. “Can’t let my education interfere with our drinking.”

“Yes!” Joel perked back up and lightly punched him on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow. Wear something pretty.”

He bounded off before Zach finished rolling his eyes at the request. The first time they’d gone to a club together, Zach made the rookie mistake of wearing an old band T-shirt, which Joel immediately declared a “fashion war crime.” He hadn’t let it go since. Never mind that growing up on a farm hadn’t exactly been conducive to building a Joel-approved wardrobe or that the guys Zach hooked up with couldn’t care less about what he wore. Joel just had to have his way.

Another gust of wind sent Zach’s hair whipping around his face, and he hurried toward his bike. After unlocking it, he glared at the case studies. Pedaling one-handed was out of the question. After shoving as many as would fit into his bag, not caring if they got creased, he trapped the rest against the handlebars with one hand and pushed off.

The fifteen-minute ride between his tiny studio apartment and the campus could be frustrating at times, but it was worth every minute. After living in the dorms freshman year, it quickly became obvious that everything Zach had learned in his sociology classes about humans being social creatures was a lie. People weren’t meant to live together. Not like that.

He’d gladly bike for hours every day and live in a shoebox if it meant not sharing his shower with three random people picked by a half-baked algorithm.

There was only one person who didn’t make Zach want to pull out his hair in frustration after hours of forced proximity. It wasn’t his parents, and it certainly wasn’t either of his brothers, whose prolonged company usually made him wish he’d been an only child.

It was Miles Carter.

His best friend and the love of his life.

Their family farms shared a fence, and their parents had thrown them together when they were toddlers, assuming that being the same age was the only prerequisite for instant friendship.

In that case, they got it right.

Zach and Miles formed a connection around sharing toys and exploring vast wheat fields that lasted well into adulthood. Even after Zach pulled a surprise twist and left Montana, moving to Oregon for college and limiting their time together to summer breaks, they stayed close. Not a week went by without a video chat and lengthy text conversations.

Regret ricocheted through Zach. This was the first summer he hadn’t gone home. The extra courses weren’t necessary—he was comfortably on track to graduate next year—but he needed an excuse to stay away. Every year, it became more and more difficult to go home and pretend to be someone else. To tiptoe around their small, conservative town. To grit his teeth and smile when his mom asked if he’d met a nice girl yet. To listen to his dad complain about the news and blame the woes of the world on anyone who was the slightest bit different.

They all expected Zach to return after graduation and fall in line. No one, not even Miles, suspected that Zach wasn’t coming back.

Instead of putting himself in a small box created by his family, he would stay in Portland, get a graduate degree, and keep being himself. Staying behind this summer was only the beginning.