Chapter 9

9

ZACH

I stood at the start of the running path with one foot pulled up behind me in a quad stretch while I waited for Jason to arrive. I was early, having gotten up well before my alarm after a restless night of sleep. I was antsy, my body buzzing with so many emotions that I wasn't sure I could identify them all. Some of them were good, some of them not so much. It was like they bounced around my body, bumping against each other, sending aftershocks through my system.

Part of me wanted to run away to California, to start a new life there and never look back. Part of me never wanted to leave Nebraska. I didn't know how to reconcile those two halves, but I supposed I'd just have to put one foot in front of the other and handle it.

Yesterday, on a whim, I'd driven into Omaha for a bit of a goodbye tour. I'd stopped by the soccer club training center, driven past my old high school, and spent an hour sitting in front of Mom's grave, wishing there was some way I could speak to her one more time. To tell her all the things I was nervous about and hoped for. To hug her again. Going to college felt like this heavy, momentous thing, and it didn't feel right that she wasn't here to witness it.

I'd returned to Astaire as the sun was making its descent into the horizon, the sky above the lake burning red and orange. I'd sat on the dock and watched it fade until darkness fell and fireflies winked above the water.

When I'd come inside, Drea and Dad had been watching a movie on the couch. It was such a rare sight that it stopped me in my tracks. Dad was dressed casually in joggers and a T-shirt, and Drea was curled against his side with her head on his shoulder.

I'd had a flash of memory of the four of us curled up on the couch for family movie night. We'd make popcorn and Drea and I would fight over which movie we'd watch, though it never really mattered because we'd both fall asleep before it was over. We'd been happy then. Life had been simpler. Less intense.

My chest had ached as the two images of past and present superimposed themselves in my mind, and wordlessly, I'd slipped out of the room.

A truck turned into the lot, pulling me out of the memory, and I gave myself a mental shake, plastering on a smile as Jason parked and got out of the truck.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he approached.

"What? Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

His brows rose in concern. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why would you think that?"

"You gave me your fake smile."

Perceptive asshole. I sighed. "It's nothing. Just…leaving here is weird. I didn't expect to feel so…sentimental about it, I guess."

We turned onto the path and started off at a light jog.

"Sentimental?"

I didn't want to talk about my dad. Or my mom. I'd talked about them enough and didn't want to go there today. But it wasn't only family I was feeling sentimental about. "Yeah. I mean, I've only been here a year, but I'm gonna miss it."

"I can't imagine leaving Astaire. It's…home."

"Have you ever been anywhere else?"

"Like to travel?"

"Yeah. I know you've lived here your whole life, but have you ever been anywhere else, like on a trip?"

He ducked below a low-hanging branch that needed to be trimmed back before responding. "Yeah. I mean, I've obviously been to Omaha, and we used to go up to Okoboji quite a bit."

"I've played in soccer tournaments up there."

"My grandparents used to own a lake house up there and we went as a family every summer."

"Your grandparents have a farm and a lake house?"

"My other grandparents. On my mom's side. It's my dad's parents who have the farm."

"Gotcha. Have you been anywhere outside of the Midwest?"

"A few places. We went to Disney World when I was nine and Mandy was six. Washington, DC in eighth grade. Colorado. Oregon." We moved to a single file on the path to allow another runner to pass. "What about you?"

"I've been all over the place for soccer. And college visits. Florida and Arizona to visit my grandparents, though Arizona was just once. I don't know. We've sort of traveled a lot."

"Do you have a favorite?"

I gave it some thought as we continued along the path. Sweat trickled down my back, making my shirt stick to my skin, and I wiped at my brow to keep it from dripping into my eyes.

"There have been a lot of really great places, and some stand out more than others, but mostly, my favorites haven't really been about the location. They were the places where we spent time as a family."

It felt corny to say it, but I figured if anyone would understand, it would be Jason. I knew how important family was to him.

"Yeah, I get that. Some of my favorite memories are sitting in the hotel playing cards as a family. Or splashing around in the swimming pool. And we almost always try to find someplace to play putt-putt. My family is weirdly competitive about putt-putt, even though we're all terrible at it. I don't know why it takes traveling hundreds of miles to get us to do those things. I guess life here has too many distractions."

Distractions. Soccer for me. Dance for Drea. Work for my dad. My mom had had…us, I supposed. What kind of selfish asshole was I that I didn't even know what stuff my mom had been into outside of her role as a wife and mom? I knew she and Aunt Amy had worked at a bank together once upon a time, but once she had me, she decided to stay home. Had she ever wanted to go back?

We got to the halfway point in our route and automatically turned back in the direction we'd come from. Wanting to change the subject, I asked, "When do you start EMT classes?"

"The week before Labor Day."

"Are you nervous?"

"No. I kind of wish they were starting sooner, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah?"

He huffed out a breath, though he didn't break stride. "Most of my friends are leaving this week, and with the local schools starting back the week after, the pool will only be open on the weekends through Labor Day. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself."

"Is it…?" I trailed off, realizing my question was likely poking at something that was already bothering him.

"Is it what?"

I sighed. "Is it hard? Watching everyone else leave?"

He slowed his pace, coming to a stop. He turned away from me, resting his hands on top of his head while he breathed.

"I know I'm supposed to say it's fine. It's not a big deal. I'm happy for my friends, but…" He dropped his arms and turned toward me. "It fucking sucks. I've known for a long time that staying here in Astaire is what's right for me, but I didn't really think about what it would feel like to watch so many of my friends leave."

He brushed his hands over his short crop of hair and started walking toward the parking lot. "Will's a mess. I don't know if you heard, but Sammy broke up with him. That's why I left the bonfire the other night. He just fell apart."

"I hadn't heard. I was down in Omaha yesterday. They seemed fine earlier in the night."

"It's a long story, and Sammy's playing the martyr, I think." He waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. The point is, Will's a mess and I'm worried about him, and he's leaving. He's my best friend and…"

That stung. It shouldn't have. I'd known they were close, even though they'd only become friends a few weeks before Jason and I had started hanging out. And Will was a cool guy. It wasn't really personal. It's just that while Jason had me and Will, I only had him. Or at least the only one I shared the deep stuff with.

"And I feel like a dick because I know he's hurting, but all I can think about is that he's leaving and I'll be alone."

"I'm sorry, man. That sucks."

Jason turned and started jogging toward the parking lot, though his pace was slower than it had been. I followed, letting him take the lead. We finished the rest of our run in silence, each lost in our thoughts. I regretted asking him how he felt about everyone leaving. He was clearly bummed about it, and I'd only poked at the bruise.

At the end of the path, we stopped, automatically turning to stretch our aching muscles. "I'm going to miss you, Zach. I don't know if that's weird to say…" He trailed off, shrugging and not quite meeting my eye. "I mean, I know I just said Will was my best friend, but I kind of feel like you've become one too."

"Same. I, uh…" I swallowed past the annoying lump in my throat and tried again. "I know we really didn't start hanging out until this summer, but it feels longer."

"Same here." He chuckled a little awkwardly, and I chanced a look at him. He was smiling with the sun shining behind him like a halo and I had to squint to see him properly.

"I'll text, okay? We'll keep in touch. And it's not like I'm never coming home."

"Yeah, that's good." His arm twitched at his side. "Can I, uh, hug you? Is that weird?"

Something fluttered low in my gut, but I ignored it. "Yeah, man. Though I'm sweaty as hell."

He chuckled. "Same." Then he leaned in, wrapped his big arms around me, and pulled me close.

It wasn't a long hug, just a few seconds with a couple of bro-style back slaps, but when I pulled away, I was surprised to find myself blinking back tears.

"Yeah, so…good luck," he said, an awkward smile tugging at his lips.

I chuckled. We were awkward and ridiculous. "Thanks. I'll text."

"Cool."

And with one more awkward smile, he turned and headed toward the lot. Watching him go left me feeling bereft like I'd just watched a piece of me walk away. But that was weird. He was just a friend. A guy I'd only gotten close to in the last couple of months.

Shaking my head at my thoughts, I turned and headed home.