"Another good point. And I promise I won't be making any kidnapping attempts. So will you come with me? We don't even have to leave Grandview."
Nate made a show of deliberating before he stood up, put on his backpack, and drank the dregs of his chicory-and-rice milk concoction. "Okay, lead the way."
Nate saw Abel's expression change, but he couldn't quite read it. Abel looked happy, cautious, and nervous all at the same time. "Cool. Then follow me."
Nate said goodbye to Emma, followed Abel to his truck, and settled into the passenger seat.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Abel asked, checking his mirror and pulling away from the front of the café. Main Street was starting to come to life; the small businesses that lined the street had opened and people had begun to mill around, doing their groceries and window-shopping.
"It's just weird. I'm in Abel Jones's truck! I can honestly say that I never,
ever
thought that I would be letting you drive me anywhere. If teenage Nate could see this, he would be telling me to jump out of the car."
"Well, it's a good thing that he can't, because leaping out of a moving vehicle to protect you is not my idea of a fun morning." The car came to a stop at the forest edge and Abel jumped out of the truck. Nate followed suit.
"Where are we going?" Nate asked, rubbing his bare arms for warmth. The air had turned colder and the adrenaline from his run had finally petered out.
"We're doing the hiking trail. Do you want a jacket? I have one in the truck," Abel was already grabbing a coat from the back seat.
"No. I'll be okay."
"Are you saying that because you genuinely don't need a jacket or because you're trying to act like some tough jackass?" Abel asked, extending the jacket out towards Nate.
"Fine. Just give me the damn thing," Nate said as he took it from Abel's outstretched hand and wrapped it around himself, instantly thankful for the extra warmth. Nate smiled as Abel shook his head and then followed him through a patch of overgrowth to the beginning of the hiking trail. The whole area was alight with different shades of green. It looked like a painting: miles and miles of undisturbed trees and plants. Everything was overgrown and beautiful, dewy and fresh. "I haven't done this in such a long time. I remember me, Jen, and Dave would steal cigarettes from Jen's mom's bag and hike up here to smoke them in secret. We thought we were
such
badasses. We would just sort of light them and take a few drags and cough ourselves stupid, but we really thought that we were the biggest rebels of all time." Nate smiled at the memory as he tried to keep up.
"I remember you three in school. You always looked so happy together. I know that when you were apart and you were on your own, you had a hard time, but you guys were always laughing. I always knew when you were around, because there would just be this chorus of cackles."
Nate watched Abel's careful steps and followed him exactly, unsure of the terrain and a little wary of the steepening incline. "Yeah. I feel so grateful that we found each other—they made some dark days bearable. There are so many times that I want to call Jen and tell her what's happening; I just know she would be able to make me laugh. I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life than with them. We would just spend all day talking and laughing and dreaming about what our lives would be like when we got away from the jerks in Grandview." Nate saw Abel stop for a second and noticed him slump, obviously upset that he had been one of the things that had made Nate want to run away so desperately. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that, to bring up the past and make you feel bad about it. I'm really not trying to hit you over the head with anything." Nate didn't want to keep treading over the same patch of the past, but it was difficult to talk about his life in Grandview without acknowledging the way that Abel had made him feel.
"It's okay. You shouldn't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. I just wish that there wasn't a past to bring up. I wish that we could talk about the fun we had or the times we helped each other out. It makes me so mad that I'm always going to be the person who bullied you. And there's nothing I can do to change that. I can't go back in time and change things and it makes me feel so angry." Abel kicked at the ground.
Nate put his hand on the base of Abel's back gently, trying to offer some kind of support. "Hey. Stop it. It's fine. I can promise you that high school is very far down the list of things that I'm worried about at the moment."
"It's just frustrating that you can't retrospectively change things," Abel said, looking down.
"Oh, believe me, I know. I'm the king of wanting to go back and change things. It's basically a full-time job for me at the moment. There are so, so many things that I would make different. But life isn't a dress rehearsal, and I think knowing we could go back in time and change things would make life less valuable. I think fucking up and living with the consequences is part of the deal of being alive; I think it makes us become more invested in our own story. The fact that we don't get a redo hopefully means that we care more." Nate removed his hand from Abel's back and stood next to him; they were halfway up the trail, high enough now that they could see the borders of Grandview below them.
"You're right. You can only really do what you can in the present. So, I just want to say..."
"That you're sorry? Yeah, I think I've heard that enough. You're sorry. I get it. Now lead the way to whatever it is that we are going to do. Frankly, I think that you're just saying these things because you need a break from the hiking—your poor running performance last night showed me how shockingly unfit you are," Nate added, lightening the mood.
"Come on, then. And, by the way, I'm, like, one of the fittest people in the whole world. Just so you know," Abel said as he started up the trail again.
"Really, in the whole world? I feel so honored to have met you. How many people can say that have outrun one of the
top ten? Top fifteen
fittest people on the planet?" Nate replied.
"I'm actually in the top five. You do know that I let you win the race, right? Because if I had unleashed my true athletic ability, your whole understanding of the world would have been blown out of the water. You probably wouldn't have even been able to see me—when I run properly, most people can only see a blur."
"Incredible, and one of the things that is inspiring about you is that even though you're up there with the greats of athletic history, you remain so humble. Your modesty truly is a lesson to us all," Nate added sarcastically.
"Thank you, I try."
"So I was talking to your sister about you in the cafe."
"Oh, really? That's never a good thing," Abel said cautiously. Nate watched as he deftly hopped over a tree root. He tried to do the same, but stumbled a little, balancing so that he didn't fall over. Nate caught his breath as quickly as he could and started walking again, thankful that Abel hadn't seen his embarrassing display. Nate didn't think of himself as clumsy, but Abel was navigating the terrain with such ease and speed that Nate was having trouble keeping up, his feet continually getting caught in knotted roots and covered bits of rock.
"No, she was actually complimentary about you. No embarrassing stories were relayed, I promise. I've gotta say, though, you're coming out story seems like something out of a fairytale," Nate replied eventually, a little out of breath.
"What do you mean? Also, what kind of fairytale involves a twenty-two-year-old coming out of the closet to his family? It's hardly Cinderella."
"First of all,
every single fairytale
should be about twenty-two-year-old men coming out to their families
.
Think how well dressed the heroes would be in the picture books and how well decorated the castles would be!" Nate stepped to the right, narrowly missing a deep groove in the ground that seemed to have been placed there for the sole purpose of embarrassing intrepid hikers.
"The royal balls would be amazing—just hardcore Cher remixes and glitter," Abel said, his voice sparkling with humor and warmth. Nate smiled as he imagined Abel in a disco—it seemed like something that would never happen.
"I think we've found ourselves a whole new genre, but I just meant that it sounds like everything happened the way it was supposed to. It sounds like you came out, everyone accepted it, and then you got on with your life. I love that it isn't the most defining thing about you. Even now, I feel like I have a big, flashing 'gay' sign above my head whenever I am around my dad." Nate could still feel the pain of his dad's silence that morning. The rejection had buried itself deep inside and refused to budge. In the back of his mind, he had thought that things would be different; he had hoped that his father would be able to put aside his issues and at least be civil.
"I don't really know how my sister spun it, but it wasn't as easy as all that. I lost some friends and it took everybody a little while to get used to it. But there wasn't really anything to get used to. Nothing changed. It's not like I've had a boyfriend for people to have to get to know, or started a pride parade up Main Street. I came out, there was five minutes of unrest, and then everything went back to how it had been. If anything, I think I would have liked it to be a more defining moment. I thought my whole life would change, and when it didn't, I felt almost as trapped as I had before." Abel stopped walking and stood still for a second, giving Nate a chance to catch up.
"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. It's a hard thing to do, and your sister said that once you did it, you completely changed for the better. That's really,
really
cool. Just not as cool as the idea of a pride parade marching up Main Street. That's something that I would pay a lot of money to see. Can you even imagine?" Nate stood next to Abel and looked down at the trail that they had hiked. They'd come a long way, covering more ground than Nate had thought.
"I can honestly say that I can't. You should bring Bailey up here sometime. When I was a kid, I used think hiking this trail was the coolest thing. My dad would ask me what I wanted to do and I would always, always say come up here. Don't you think it's like a completely different world?"
"It's very beautiful. I think Bailey would love it, but I'm not sure that I trust myself to chaperone him through the hike. You haven't noticed because I've been behind you, but I have nearly tripped over about—and this is just a rough guess—two million times."
"Oh, I noticed. I was just too polite to say anything about it. Maybe I could come with you guys. You know, to make sure that you make it back alive." Abel turned around and Nate was taken aback by how handsome he looked; he looked like he belonged in the forest, as he seemed most at home in his own skin there. Nate thought he noticed something strange in Abel's voice, some small undercurrent that made him seem nervous about suggesting the potential for another hike. He thought about how different the hike would be with Joshua, how much easier it would be and how much harder. They would be more comfortable around each other, more willing to fall into silence and just be together. But those silences had become deafening and painful, covering up heartbreaking things that needed to be said.
"Yeah, maybe. That sounds sensible," Nate said, suddenly feeling guilty that he had noticed Abel's handsomeness. He felt like he was letting Joshua down somehow, that he wasn't supposed to notice other men. Nate thought about the piece of paper that was in his bag and how pathetic it seemed that he couldn't write himself any kind of answers.
"You see, I
am
Captain Sensible," Abel said, his voice full of false pride.
"Nope. I still prefer Captain Slower-Than-a-Toddler."
"Okay. You know what? I'm just gonna embrace it. I'm gonna get the name printed on a hoodie or something." Abel started hiking again. Nate looked up, and they were nearly at the top of the trail, the absolute best view for miles and miles around.
"You definitely should."
Nate was a couple of seconds behind Abel when he got to the peak. Grandville looked tiny, the people like ants roaming around some kind of model version of the town. The air felt even purer than in the forest. As Nate looked down, he felt his left foot become unstable, his head spinning from a sudden attack of vertigo and his body falling forward to the ground. His vision was flooded with brown, and he felt like the ground was rushing towards him at warp speed. Automatically, Nate closed his eyes and put his arms out, wincing in preparation of the pain. The forward momentum stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
Nate opened his eyes, confused. He was hovering above the ground; all he could see was dirt and fallen leaves and debris. After a beat, Nate looked up and straight into Abel's blue eyes. Abel had caught him and Nate could feel Abel's arms around him now that the shock of falling had subsided. Nate inhaled deeply, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath. Nate couldn't pull his eyes away from Abel's. Everything was silent except for their breathing.
"Huh. Thank you. You caught me." Nate pulled himself up and got to his feet. "I don't know what's wrong with me; there's literally nothing I could have tripped on. I really think that I might have some kind of physical defect that hasn't been discovered yet. When they do, they can call it Nate Disease."
"No, I think you might just be an extremely haphazard person," Abel replied. Nate noticed that he was looking down, his face red.
"Nope. That can't be it. I am an
extremely
elegant person. I'm basically Fred Astaire. But, like, even more graceful," Nate said, babbling.
"You're right, when I first saw you in the bar I thought to myself, 'that person has significant dance training.' " Abel's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "You know what? We're here. We can do the thing."
"Oh yeah! I forgot that we were coming up here for a reason. So what are we doing to solve all of my problems?"
"Bear with me. This is going to sound ridiculous. You're going to write all of the things that are getting in the way of you finishing your book on a piece of paper. Then we're going to find some rocks and wrap the paper around them. The biggest obstacle will cover the heaviest rock and then the rocks will get lighter as your problems get less awful. Then you say something and you throw the littlest rock down on the forest floor below the trail. You keep doing this until you've let go of the rock with your biggest heartache on it," Abel explained as he started gathering rocks of different sizes from around the peak of the hiking trail.