“I suspect that’s what B’s dad was talking about when he called me a dyke.” She purses her lips. “When Micah and I went to junior prom together, our relationship became town gossip, and eventually it spread around to some of the neighboring towns. Before that day, everyone knew we were friends but nothing more.” She swallows and tucks a loose strand of hair under her hat. “It was a real scandal, I guess. People were misgendering him constantly and calling him names. We tried to ignore the attention, but it got to be too much for Micah’s family, and they moved away.” Fi rubs some moisture from her eyes.
“Do you guys keep in touch?”
She nods, smiling. “He lives in Seattle with a really cute boyfriend and works as a copywriter for a marketing firm. I’m so fucking proud of him. Anyway.” She shrugs and I feel her shoulder brush mine. “I knew back then that I was pan, even if I didn’t really understand it. Micah’s gender was irrelevant to me. I just loved him for who he was.”
We sit quietly for a while, watching the clouds as they start to shroud the top of the mountain in a hazy mist.
“I think that’s more snow coming,” I murmur. “We should get back.”
Fi nods and stands and we backtrack through the forest. By the time we reach the cabin, it’s almost dusk.
Fi stops. “That’s weird.”
I glance at her and then follow her gaze. The windows are dark. “Maybe Michaels fell asleep.”
“Maybe.”
We walk up the steps, and I stop. The door is slightly ajar. Fi and I look at each other and then rush forward, throwing it open.
Fi yells, “Brantley?” at the same time that I shout, “Michaels?”
I rush up the ladder and stare around the loft. It’s empty. “Not up here,” I call.
“His coat and boots are gone,” Fi says.
“Fuck, it’s almost dark.” Fear, cold and sharp, creeps through my veins at the thought of someone hurting him.
I scramble back down to the main floor, and Fi runs to my side, yanking me by my sleeve toward the door.
“Wait.” I grab a couple of flashlights from a shelf. I hand one to Fi. She turns it on as we step outside. I flick the power button on mine, but nothing happens. “Fuck, we’ll have to share.” I toss the busted flashlight aside and follow her down the steps.
“B?” she calls.
Snow has started to fall, the wind blowing the flakes into our faces as we scan the property in the fading light. The flashlight beam sends shadows careening through the trees.
I cup my hands. “Micheals!” I try to keep the panic from my voice because I can feel Fiona’s anxiety rising as she spins around, squinting into the darkness. Regret hits me square in the chest, and I swear to myself that if he’s okay, I’ll apologize. He’s not the fuckup he thinks he is, and I need to tell him that.
Just as we’re about to head toward the barn, my eye catches on something.
“Fi, look.” I walk down the driveway, following the truck’s snow-packed tire tracks. Fresh footprints crisscross through the snow. Fi follows them with the light. They snake into the woods on the other side of the road and disappear down into the ditch before reappearing on the other side.
I step in front of Fi and clutch her hand as we track what is hopefully Michaels’s trail. I step along the edge of the ditch and slide down, barely catching myself. Fi’s ironclad grip on my fingers is practically bone crushing, and I wince when our knuckles grind together.
“B?” Fi’s voice is softer this time.
The woods feel heavy in the blackness like the trees could suffocate us.
“Will you guys shut up and turn off that light?”
Fi screams, and I yank her behind my body, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs. “What the fuck, Michaels?”
“Shh! Quiet.”
As my eyes adjust, I see him. He’s squatting down behind a fallen tree, peering over the trunk. Thinking danger might be nearby, I crouch down beside him and pull Fi with me.
“What’s going on?” Fi whispers.
Michaels presses a finger to his lips with an annoyed look. Then he points.
