Page 91 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

I scan the forest around the trail, peering through the poplars and black birch. Nothing moves. There could be a person on the trail, but it’s not a popular trek this time of year. If it’s an animal, I need to make noise, scare off whatever’s lurking in the forest.

Neck tense, I drop my pack and dive in for my metal pots, swearing when I have to pry them out from under my sleeping bag. More crunching echoes, closer this time. When my hands finally close on metal, I give my best B-movie scream and start smacking the pans together as I pull up from my pack…and I’m face-to-face with Mizhir.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask through ragged breaths.

He frowns at the pans in my frantic grip. “What the fuck are you doing?”

A crazed laugh squeaks out of me, my adrenaline leaching as incredulity sinks in. Running into anyone out here is unlikely. Running into Mizhir? Lady Luck clearly has a bone to pick with me.

“Oh, you know,” I say, dropping my pans and regaining my equilibrium, “I’m starting a one-man band. Thought being out here in the quiet would be a good place to practice.”

He snorts. “Don’t quit your day job.”

I sure as hell should quit trying to escape my life. I can’t seem to run far enough away. “Are you doing the Klauser Loop?”

“Part of it.” He shirks off his pack and drops it beside mine. “I read about Klauser on Get Outside North Carolina but wanted to be out for two weeks. It bisects Green Ridge and Lorrey Kane. Instead of doing a loop, I arranged a drop-off and pickup at each end.”

We nod at each other, like we ran into each other in the town square, not in the middle of fucking nowhere. “That’s why I’m here too,” I say, but I flash to Maggie’s sharp eyes before she tore out of Desmond’s house, to Mom’s worry when telling us about our new brothers. “I mean, the post isn’t why I’m solo hiking, but Get Outside NC is a great website. The loop looked good.”

“Right? The hikes they list are always spot-on.”

We share more useless nodding and silent awkwardness, as I try to stop thinking about my imploded life.

Mizhir tugs down his hat. “I’m not actually out here because of the article either.” He crosses his arms and shifts on his feet. Standing still in the cold is no one’s friend, but there are dark circles under his eyes I hadn’t noticed before. “Shit went sideways for me at work.” He exhales on a sigh. “It was either split or drown.”

Whenever I saw him in town, he seemed upbeat. Either his job hit a downward spiral recently, or he was putting on a brave face. “I don’t actually know what you do for work, which seems strange.”

“It feels shitty, is what it feels like.” His dark eyes flick up to mine. “I hate the strain between us.”

“Yeah,” is all I say. Shitty and strained are the best ways to describe how seeing Mizhir always feels.

He kicks at a patch of snow. “I should’ve reached out to you properly after you got back, but I didn’t want to talk about how bad things were for me at work. Kind of like why I ditched you when I went to college.”

A cold wind makes me shiver, but I don’t move to keep warm. Trying to compute what he’s saying is taking all my concentration. “What was going on when you went to college?”

“My dad lost his job, and my folks split for a while. Everyone was going out to parties while I sat on the phone and listened to them bitch about each other. My grades tanked, and I get bad insomnia when things are stressful. It was a rough time, and talking to friends when things are bad isn’t my forte. I get kind of embarrassed about my life, I think. It’s easier pretending things are fine…until it’s not easier. Like now.”

I blink at him, taken aback. When he quit calling me from college, I never once asked Mizhir if he was okay. I assumed he was out having a blast, making new friends, leaving me for bigger and better things. Talk about being oblivious.

“I had no clue, man. To be honest, I wasn’t in a great place either back then. Felt like I’d been left behind by you, which seems pretty insular and immature now that I think about it.”

He smirks. “We were immature. Remember when we’d play video games with our feet while tossing spitballs at each other?”

“Okay, yeah.” I smile at the memory, the two of us being jackasses for a laugh. “We were immature, but it’s no excuse. I should’ve called more, visited when I didn’t hear back.”

“And I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

We nod at each other again, awareness in the slow movement this time, both of us understanding each other a bit better.

“I was sick when I heard about witness protection,” Mizhir goes on. “Can’t imagine what you went through. Then you came back, and I was struggling with work. I should’ve done more to connect.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we ran into each other out here.” And I should quit assuming I’m the only one with problems. People’s insides don’t usually match their outward image. I mean, I tell jokes when I’m uncomfortable. I should know better.

Mizhir gestures to the trail, his face brighter. “I’m on the Klauser Loop for a day and a half before it splits into Lorrey Kane. If you don’t mind company, is it cool if we do it together?”

It’s freezing outside, but warmth spreads through my chest. “That would be awesome.”

We pull on our packs and head out, hiking and talking like we didn’t lose eleven years of friendship. I catch up on Mizhir’s work woes—the main investor for his Rate Your Date app disappeared, and he hasn’t found a replacement, but his parents’ marriage has thankfully been strong since their short split. We laugh about stupid shit we did growing up, and he asks about WITSEC and gets furious at my father for ruining our lives.