5. Quinn

CHAPTER 5

"I would describe myself as being indoorsy," Quinn said as Weston led him down a path to a waterfall. Gooseberry Falls was a state park forty-five minutes north of Duluth, and it was packed, considering it was just a waterfall. Weston didn't stream on Saturdays, so they had the whole day to explore without the distraction of being on camera.

"I have a narrow window of time when I want to be outside, between how cold winters are and how hot summers have gotten lately. Right now is perfect."

Weston was ahead of him, in a hoodie with the hood up and a backpack on his back. Neither of them was wearing practical shoes for hiking, because when Quinn packed, he hadn't known he would find himself on any sort of nature trail. Thankfully, the paths were easy and the stairs weren't treacherous.

They made it from the visitor center to the edge of the falls quickly. It was loud and beautiful, the air around them crisp as the leaves began to change. And then the waterfall was just…right there.

Quinn knew that if he came here with his family, Syd and Brady would do something borderline life-threatening. His family tended to pick much more intense nature outings, though, and Quinn was used to huffing and puffing as he brought up the rear, his dad patiently waiting for him as his mom chased after the other kids gleefully. The hidden pain of having a family of athletes that no one talks about? Getting left behind on hikes.

"I can't believe there are no guardrails."

"Yeah, it's ridiculous. It's an accident waiting to happen. And yes, accidents have happened. Just don't get too close and you'll be fine."

Quinn felt like a strong breeze could catapult him the ten feet between him and the water and he'd just slide right on down. Weston stepped closer, and Quinn reached for his hand.

"Please?" he asked, hoping Weston would understand.

He hoped Weston interpreted it as him being afraid of heights, when what was happening in his brain was a fight to not hurl himself off the edge. Part of that was a naturally intrusive thought process, and part of it was the passive suicidal ideation he'd been dealing with for six months.

Quinn had been depressed before. He knew that someday he would feel good again. But he also knew that he needed to survive his feelings until then, and some days were harder than others.

Weston gave his hand a squeeze and stepped back.

"I got you."

When he was sure he wouldn't end up in the water, Quinn took a breath and looked around him. There was nature in Minneapolis. There was even a waterfall there if he wanted to go see it. But city nature still felt urban, and here, he could imagine a time when humans didn't exist.

There were stairs down to the bottom of the falls, and they followed a young family as their two school-aged kids darted around.

He had no idea how his own parents raised four rascals.

Weston kept Quinn's hand in his own as they made their way down, and then he arranged them for a selfie with the falls behind them.

"Do you want a nice photo?" the mom of the young family asked. The dad was holding both of his kids' hands as they approached the calmer water. Weston handed over his phone.

Quinn wrapped an arm around Weston's shoulders and Weston put his hand on Quinn's chest. Lee would put his hand on Quinn's stomach, and it always made him feel self-conscious. This made him feel warm.

"You two are so cute together," their photo taker told them as she handed the phone back to Weston.

She thought they were together. Chat thought they were together, too. It was fun pretending to be boyfriends. After living so many years with a default copilot to every activity, falling back into couple-mode felt both seamless and exciting. Weston was nothing like Lee, who had a finance degree and kept talking about getting a goldendoodle. Lee had a steadiness to him. (Right up until he blew up their lives.) But Quinn didn't want steadiness. He wanted to have some fun. He wanted someone to make him feel alive.

Weston had packed snacks in his backpack for them, and he dug out granola bites that looked...healthy.

"Don't judge me, gluten-free shit always looks certifiably insane."

"No judgment," he said, taking Weston's offering. The granola clusters had chocolate in them, and they were good once you got past the packaging that clearly stated ALLERGEN FREE several times. "Thanks for sharing. It sounds hard to do all of this." Quinn didn't have any food allergies and wasn't used to giving a second thought to anything he ate.

"It's way easier to just be careful about what I eat and not risk it. And the stupid-expensive food is cheaper than a hospital stay."

"You have to go to the hospital?"

"Usually not, but it's happened. It's not fun, but I know what's going on now. When I was a kid, it was harder. It took a while to figure out what was going on and why I was malnourished."

"That sounds like a hard childhood."

Weston shrugged. "I think the hardest part was the fact that over the course of about ten years, I watched my mom stop believing in science."

"Oh no."

"At some point, doctors became the enemy. My parents fought about it all the time. By that time, I was almost an adult, and then I got to make my own decisions. It sucks. She's spiraled down some weird internet rabbit holes."

Quinn tucked the rest of his snack in his hoodie pocket and took Weston's hand again. There were trails all over the park that they meandered through. After a summer of rotting inside in his bedroom, it was nice to get some blood pumping through him. It was the level of activity he and Hunter got up to when they went to the lake—casual.

The last time he and Hunter had gone to the lake together, he'd felt like a zombie. He felt notches better now, like he was slowly easing out of the pain. Lee divorced him in January, and he was approaching the one-year mark. He'd heard things got better around a year.

Their conversation shifted easily from Weston's mom to the rest of his family, including his sister, who had some similar beliefs as his mom.

Quinn had already told Weston about Jonathan, but he filled him in on Brady and Syd, remembering in that moment to send Syd a text to let her know he was still alive. He sent one of the photos of him and Weston looking adorable, and the message she sent back was to get over, you must get under. She had a certain wisdom about her.

It wasn't a day Quinn would have planned for himself, but it was perfect. By the time he and Weston got back to the car, they were still holding hands.