Page 27 of Zero Confusion

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.