Chapter One
Forrest
It’s odd, seeing the juxtaposition of familiarity mixed with the new. More had changed than I’ve expected in the six years since I moved away from here. But as I drive the rented moving van down the road, there are still things I recognize, like one of the local dive bars, or a bakery that I remember going to with my mom when I was a kid.
I’m sure some of the difference also comes from the feeling of coming back to my Colorado hometown an orphan. Not that Dad and I were particularly close, especially after Mom’s death when I was 14. But even so, returning to an empty house will be a weird feeling.
Hell, coming back here at all is a weird feeling if I’m being honest with myself. When I moved away for college, I had done so with the intention of making the change permanent.
Not so much because I hated the place, but because I wanted at least a taste of whatever else the world had to offer; I’d foolishly wanted to try living in a big city, so that was where I’d sent the majority of my college applications, and when I’d landed an opportunity in Chicago, there had only been one thing that could have stopped me from taking it.
And it, or rather he, didn’t.
But after my dad’s death, when I’d been trying to decide what the hell to do with the house, I’d received word about a job opening that I was perfect for, in a town 20 minutes away from the place. It was a step up from where I was, a pay raise, basically a dream job.
And when I’d applied, I’d gotten a reply within the hour and I had an interview over Zoom the next day, where the manager, Michael, had hired me on the spot and asked me when I could start.
I’m not a superstitious guy, never have been, but there came a point where even I had to believe the universe was lining up to tell me something.
So, I’d packed up my shitty little apartment, hitched my car to tow it behind the U-Haul, and now I was turning down familiar streets to move back in to my childhood home.
I wonder briefly if Max’s parents are still living next door. That’s definitely a level of awkward I don’t particularly want to face, but I guess I can brave it if I must.
It’s not the first time it’s crossed my mind, to be honest. Shit, Max crosses my mind at least once a day as it is, but now that I’m actually coming back here? It’s ten times worse.
I’ve resisted the urge to look him up online, to track down his social media and see what he’s been up to. Not so much because I’m so great at resisting temptation, but because I’m not sure I’m ready to see how he’s moved on.
So I don’t know if he even still lives here, but it’s hard to imagine him ever leaving. He always loved it here. It was why we hadn’t worked out.
I rub one hand over my tired eyes and sigh. That’s not a train of thought I’m in the mood to follow at the moment. It’s a track I go down far too often as it is, and I’m trying to remember all of the positive things about this move: the promotion, the house I’d inherited and the loss of rent payments, and all the other positives.
It seems to work, and I even find my heart speeding up a little in excitement as I start to get nearer, until finally, I’m making that final right turn down the old street.
It all looks mostly the same, save for a few new bushes here or a new color painted on the shutters there.
Finally, I reach my destination, pulling the truck carefully into the long driveway. I step out of the U-Haul and tilt my head, my neck letting out a loud crack that makes me groan.
For a moment, I just stand in the driveway and take in the fresh air, basking in the sunshine after the long hours of driving. I’m also debating about where I should begin. I’d driven all night, and part of me is tempted just to go inside and take a nap before anything else, but another part of me just wants to get all my shit out of the truck.
I decide, at the very least, to unhitch my car from the tow and get that into the garage so I can pull the truck into the driveway. So I set to work, getting my car put away, but as I’m coming out of the garage to move the truck, I see a pickup pulling into the driveway of the house next door.
Max’s place.
The windows are tinted just enough that I can’t clearly make out a face until the truck parks and the door swings open. I’m expecting Max’s dad, maybe even his mother, but the last face I’m expecting to see is the man himself.
He looks even better than I remember, having turned from a high school senior just on the cusp of manhood to a ruggedly handsome beast of a man. His dark hair is shorter than he wore it then, and his chiseled face is wrapped in a carefully groomed beard.
And he looks just as shocked to see me as I am to see him. “Holy shit…Forrest, is that you, man?”
To my surprise, there’s no malice in his tone, just pure excitement to see me, and my heart soars. “Hey, Max, how’ve you been?”
He flashes a smile, and that smile hits me like a fucking freight train, bringing with it a flood of memories. But he’s also moving closer, so I struggle to pull myself together. “I’ve been great, actually,” he tells me, “I was sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Thanks,” I reply awkwardly, not sure what else I can say.
“So…you’re moving back in?” he asked, nodding at the U-Haul in the driveway.
I nod. “Yeah, I found this really great job opportunity at a design company out here, and since I already had a place to live here…” I shrug, “It just kind of made sense. How about you, you visiting your folks, or…?” I trail off, leaving the question hanging.