I hold on to that and focus back on Michael.

“Plus, California is warmer.”

“I don’t want warmer,” he objects. “I like Boston. I like that I know this city, that I know the people. The good, the bad, the ugly. It’s all part of me.”

“Well, how about New York? They say it’s like Boston, just…”

“Dirtier?” he asks. “More expensive?”

“New York is more than that, and you wouldn’t know if you didn’t try. Staying somewhere just because you think it’s what you’re supposed to do or—”

“My parents kicked me out of the house, Dre.”

Michael’s interruption cuts deep, like a heated knife passing through flesh. It’s a story as old as time, the gay kid kicked out of his house because his parents can’t handle him being who he is.

Michael isn’t ashamed; or at least, he doesn’t show it. He holds his head up high. He leads us toward the Franklin Park Zoo, which isn’t far. Signs cheerfully guide us toward our fauna adventure.

“That seems to me like even more of a reason for you to leave.”

He shakes his head. “And let them win? No. Not a chance. I’ve built a life here; I’ve found a passion here, I have a family—a found family—here. I’m not leaving. And besides…”

But he doesn’t finish, and even after I give him twenty seconds to continue, he still stays quiet.

“Besides what, Michael?”

“It’s dumb.”

“I should be the one to determine if it’s dumb or not,” I tease. “Come on, humor me. I traveled through time and space to see you.”

“I didn’t ask for that, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’d miss me if I didn’t.”

“I know, I would,” he says without hesitation. “Which is why I’m not sure I can leave. Or should leave. Because, if I do, who’s to say you’ll be able to find me again?”

The richness in Michael’s words makes my own chest feel tight. There’s no subtext, no lies, no misdirection. Just pure, simple honesty. This isn’t some AP exam or SAT practice test. He really thinks that.

“You mean it, don’t you?” I ask, though it’s more of a statement.

Michael shrugs. “I don’t want to break this connection that we have. I feel like we must have been meant to find each other. I don’t want to throw away what the universe gave us. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, not at all. It’s just…”

Michael stops me, grabs my shoulders again, and forces me to look at him. His cheeks are rosy, and his breath is coming out in heavy white puffs. His nose is redder than the rest of his face, and his blue eyes look watery.