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CHAPTER FOUR

E very guy on Tinder is a baldheaded motherfucking liar.

We’ve only been trekking through these mountains for forty-five minutes, and I’m already sweating my ass off. There’s no way every single white boy I’ve ever come across on those dating apps can sincerely enjoy hiking as one of their main hobbies.

Dad’s employees don’t even seem like they’re struggling one bit. Bradley from accounting has been telling a story about his wife and kids for the past ten minutes and I haven’t heard nary a gasp for breath, meanwhile I sound like I’ll need three whole inhalers just to make it twenty more feet. Sid glances back at me, and rather than smirking, he’s full on laughing at me. If I weren’t damn near on my hands and knees crawling, I’d probably laugh at the ridiculousness of all this too.

Instead, I flip him off and power through my burning lungs until I’m passing him. I end up beside Julian, who’s far more empathetic than Sidney.

“You doing okay?” he asks, reaching for his silver bottle of water. He hands it over, and I gulp down nearly half of it before I reply.

“Never better.”

Julian slips a hand around my shoulder. “The first time I went on a hike with these guys, I had to take three or four breaks just so I didn’t faint. No shame in pausing for a second to catch your breath.”

The thought is tempting, but there’s something weird inside me that doesn’t want to. I’ve spent the past year throwing in the towel or taking the easy way out. Gotten too comfortable staying within my comfort. This might be the first time—other than coming on this trip—that I’ve taken a step outside of that bubble and stood in the unease. If I take a break, I know I’ll probably convince myself to stay down and let the others go on without me, and being with Julian, Derreck, and Sid makes me feel energized in a way I haven’t known in way too long.

“I can handle it,” I tell him, handing back his bottle and steeling my resolve.

Despite everything, it’s beautiful outside. I’ve never been a nature guy, one, because bugs are disgusting, and two, because I don’t play about wild animals. I spent too much time watching TV shows about animal attacks to ever willingly bring my Black ass out here in some grizzly bear’s humble abode. I’m a house cat, and I like my thermostat more than I like myself. That all said, the air is different out here compared to back in the city. It’s easier to breathe, which is a sensation I haven’t realized I’ve been missing.

My diet of microwaved food and energy drinks to keep from sleeping the days away doesn’t help much, but I somehow manage to keep up with the other guys without keeling over and dropping dead. Sid keeps glancing at me and snickering, and of course, there’s Julian to give him a swat to his ass to tell him to stop. I don’t mind it much, though.

With all my friends out living their lives, it’s been a minute since I’ve been around this kind of playfulness. This is exactly how we’d jeer at and tease each other. It’s familiar, and despite the fact that I struggle to keep powering through the burning of my muscles, I find myself smiling as we near the peak of the mountain.

Pride floods through me when we reach the top. Fuck. I actually just did that. The ache in my bones feels congratulatory.

“Look at it all,” Bradley says as he sets down the cooler. And look I do.

The valley of trees in front of us sprawls on for miles, and all I can think about is the life down there. The animals going about their business. The bugs simply trying to survive. It makes all my own issues feel so goddamn insignificant.

Maybe that’s not fair.

I’ve been told to not downplay my own issues because of what’s happening somewhere else.

Perhaps the more accurate description is that it makes me aware that there’s more than just the bubble of gloom I’ve surrounded myself with. Like, I haven’t been able to see past the walls of my own bedroom to recognize that there’s all of this that I’m missing. But I’m here now. I’m not bundled up in bed watching TikToks all day. I’m out here, just...living.

I don’t know what comes over me, but cupping my hands around my mouth, I let out a whooping noise that echoes throughout the expanse of trees, hills, and valleys. Some of the guys from the other cabin crack a smile before joining in. Soon, all seven of us are shouting into nature. Weightlessness rises throughout my body, like I’ve been carrying all of this around my entire life.

Maybe I have.

Settling down, the guys crack open drinks and unwrap some sandwiches. The taste of beer is actually so foul it deserves the death penalty, but I chase each sip down with a bit of turkey and Swiss. I’m grateful for the fact that I don’t have to talk much, because I’m far more interested in half-heartedly listening to Dad’s employees fight over football teams and staring up at the sky as birds fly overhead.

“Everything good?” Julian asks, lowering his tone so that only I can hear.

I turn to face him with a smile on my face, “Surprisingly…yeah.”

“Good. Good deal.” His dark eyes practically glow in the sunlight, and every gray hair peppering his beard is illuminated at this angle. It’s not fucking fair how effortlessly fine this man is.

I can still feel his gaze on me when I look back up at the sky, but I’m not bothered by it. Seems like worrying about everyone is Julian’s role in the group, and I want him to see that I do mean what I said.

Everything is good.

Might not last forever, but I know if I voiced that pessimism, Julian would probably put a hand on my shoulder and tell me that good things rarely do, or that life is an endless cycle of trying to soak up the moments of peace in all the chaos. And that’s what this is, really. I’m not scrolling through my phone and watching the world fall to shit. No bickering back and forth like in all the reality shows I’ve been bingeing. Just me, an assortment of very attractive men, and the warm of sunshine beating down on us despite the cold chill in the air.

We sit at the top of the hill for a long time, yet it feels like nothing at all. When they begin packing up, I nearly suggest that we stay put for a while longer, but Ian, the newest hire, says he’s going to be barbequing later tonight, and I’ve been craving ribs like a motherfucker. I help collect a few glass bottles and bag them up for recycling, and Sid and Julian shoot rock, paper, scissors to see who has to drag the cooler all the way back to our cabin.

“Rigged,” I can hear Sid say as he reluctantly takes on the duty. Julian laughs and gives him a shove, offering to help, but of course the offer is rejected. “I take my losses like a man,” Sid grunts.

As we head back down the trail, the two of them bicker like they’re brothers, and I let myself fall behind the crowd, still taking in all of this fresh air. This is probably why Mom always told me to open a window or sit out on the front porch sometimes. Oxygen and vitamin D are kind of the shit…

The march back down isn’t anywhere near as much effort as hiking up, which I’m praising the Lord for. I don’t know that I have that much left in me. In fact, I can already tell that the moment we get back to the cabins, I’m popping in the shower and passing the fuck?—

In an instant, two things happen simultaneously: I feel my left calf clench with sudden sharpness and my ankle wobble beneath my weight. Caught off guard, I let out a strangled noise and lurch forward, just barely missing Sid on my way down. The world spins around me, the sky becoming the dirt, bushes becoming the clouds. Before I can tumble any further down the trail, someone catches my upper arm and pulls me to a halt. All the while, the throbbing, aching pain in my calf from the charley horse stealing my breath away.

“Woah,” Derreck says, squatting down next to me. “You good.”

“Yep,” I say, grimacing as I sit up. The guys around me all look worried, and to play it off, I give a thumbs up. “Oh-em-gee, I’m so quirky.” The poor attempt at humor falls flat—much like I just did.

“I’m okay,” I assure them, brushing the fallen leaves off me and trying to pop back up like it’s nothing. When I take a step, though, a searing pain shoots through my ankle, all the way up to my knee, and a small noise of discomfort escapes.

“Shit,” Derreck murmurs. He reaches out to carefully pull my sock down. “I think it’s already bruising.”

“I’m fine,” I say, drawing out the last word. My second attempt at walking goes exactly as expected, and I curse under my breath. “Goddammit.”

“I don’t think he’s gonna be able to walk down on that ankle,” Julian says. Amir and Bradley nod in agreement.

Derreck says, “You’re probably right.” In one fluid motion, Derreck rises from the grass, slips a hand around my back and under my knees, and lifts me off my feet and up into his arms. “I got it.”

“D,” I say, my head spinning for the second time in five minutes. “I can?—”

“Boy, hush.”

No use in arguing. Sid seems satisfied with this solution and says, “I’ll check it out when we get back to the cabin.”

I hate the way they all look at me and amongst each other, like I’m going to fall apart the next time the wind blows. As much as it pains me, though, I can’t fight them on this. If I make Derreck put me down, I’ll end up scooting down the mountain on my ass. Reluctantly, I resign myself to defeat.

Derreck doesn’t even seem to react to the additional weight he’s carrying, even smiling at me when he sees me staring up at him. “S’wrong?” he asks softly.

“My ankle.”

He gives me a look that says smartass.

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just strong, that’s all.”

“That’s why I get what I want,” he says with a playful smirk. “None of these motherfuckers want to fight me on it. They know I’ll win.”

“I could take you,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. I’m not about to give this man an even bigger head even if he is right.

“You could take all of me, I bet.”

My face scrunches up in shock. “ Hush ,” I hiss.

This kind of boldness is wild, especially around the guys that don’t know how our cabin gets down. Derreck erupts into laughter, and the others up front look back at us, amused by his chuckles. I can’t help but join him. He’s right.

I could take every inch of this big bastard, and I’d do it happily.