Page 37 of Never Stay Gone
Shane closed his eyes again and let the tears run down his cheeks.
Chapter Ten
It was so muchlike the day Shane dumped him that Dakota almost stuck out his thumb and waited for a trucker to pick him up on the side of the road. Was he thirty-one or eighteen? Had he just had his heart ripped out for the first time? Or had he lost count of how many times he’d broken it himself, chasing ghosts and memories and Shane.
He hadn’t seen it coming. He’d been too excited about the future: about Shane’s freshman year at college and his own first few months working as a cowboy. About the apartment they’d share. He’d made a meager list of furniture they’d need. A real bed, finally. A desk for Shane to do his homework on. Dakota wanted to get a table and chairs so they could eat together, too, wanted to pick up pots and pans so he could learn to cook for Shane. His mom had shared some of her recipes with him, and he could make breakfast for Shane before football practice and dinner when he got home. He was going to take care of Shane.
Their final day of school was a blur. The bell rang, and he and Shane met by Shane’s truck, like every other day for the past two years. He was vibrating, so fucking excited thatthis was it,the rest of their lives was finallyhere. He’d graduated—a miracle—and Shane was on the way to making his football dreams come true, and they were going to be together.
He’d dumped his backpack on the truck’s floorboards and had to fight to keep his hands in his lap as Shane pulled out of the school parking lot. When they drove out of town, he was going to hold Shane’s hand. He was going to kiss him as soon as they crossed the county line. He couldn’t fucking wait.
Dakota had thought they were going out to the desert. Going to their spot to celebrate graduation. He had his budget carefully copied onto a fresh sheet of paper, a final draft that he was going to present to Shane. He was sure they could do it. He hadn’t wanted to say anything until he was certain he could work enough to afford their apartment on his own. But he could, and that meant Shane could focus on his classes and football.
Shane pulled over halfway down Main, beneath the shade of the blooming desert willows in front of the courthouse. Pink blossoms rained on the windshield, soft thuds like moth wings brushing against the glass. Shane left his blinker on as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and gnawed on it, staring through the windshield like he was looking a thousand miles away.
“Shane? You okay?”
“Dakota… We need to talk. About summer, and next year.”
Dakota wanted to do this in their spot, but here was fine. They could get root beer floats after and celebrate. Dakota grabbed his backpack and pulled out his budget. He held it out to Shane over the bench seat. “I been working on a plan,” he said softly. “I found a job on a ranch out by your college, and I can make enough to afford a lil apartment for us both. We can finally live together. I’ll take care of everythin’. All you need to do is go to class and play ball. I can make enough for rent and food, utilities. I made sure.” He pointed to the columns, the numbers, everything he’d researched. “I can’t afford cable the first year, but that’s okay, right?”
Shane stared at the handwritten budget, at Dakota’s hopes and dreams laid out in monthly income and expenditures. “Dakota…”
“I wanna be with you,” Dakota whispered. “I wanna go out there with you. I wanna live with you. I know you’re gonna play football, so we can’t go holdin’ hands anywhere public. I’m fine with that—”
“Dakota…”
“I’ve thought a lot ’bout what our life can look like together. I just wanna see you out there, makin’ your dreams come true. And I wanna be there for you, all the ways you need. I know we’ve never said it, but… you know, right? You gotta know. Shane… I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met, I think.”
“Dakota…” Shane paled, and he dragged in a long, slow breath. He grasped the steering wheel, knuckles white, fingertips turning blue. He wouldn’t look at Dakota. “You can’t come with me,” he finally whispered.
Dakota stilled. “What?”
Shane reached into his own backpack, down on the floor between his feet. He pulled out a ziplock bag and pushed it across the seat. Inside was the CD Dakota had made for him, the dried-out sugar heart that had topped the cupcake Dakota baked for him on his eighteenth birthday, and Dakota’s class ring on the chain Shane had worn every day. “It’s time we moved on,” Shane continued. “You should probably take all this back.”
“Moved on?” Dakota couldn’t process what Shane was saying. Couldn’t comprehend the words. They echoed inside him like falling rain.
“We’re just kids.” Shane’s voice got even smaller. “This isn’t… this isn’t forever, Dakota. It’s just… something we did together, you know? We were fooling around. But now we need to grow up.”
Finally, he started to get it. Shane was dumping him. Shane was leaving him. Shane was pushing him away. Dakota shook his head. “What are you sayin’? This isn’t nothin’. What we got, it can last forever. You and me—"
“It’s not forever. It ends today.”
“Shane…”
“I don’twanta future like this,” Shane breathed. “This isn’t what I want.” His voice shook as he pressed the ziplock bag into Dakota’s thigh. “My dad is waiting for me. I need to go. We’re going to drive out to campus early and meet the coach.”
Dakota stared at the plastic bag, at the CD he’d spent hours making. He’d picked seventeen perfect songs for the two of them, songs that would bring back memories of what they were to each other. He’d even written on the front, “Shane and Dakota’s Summer.” He’d drawn a little prickly pear cactus and an ocotillo, and Shane’s truck under a shooting star in black marker.
That little orange candy heart too. Dakota could barely make out the “I <3 U,” it was so dried out. Shane had kept it, though. Didn’t that mean something? Like the kiss he blew Dakota when they were filming his interviews, and when they sang “Cowboy Take Me Away” side by side at prom.
Didn’t it mean something that Dakota had given himself to Shane? That they’d made love? Prom night was the only time they’d gone all the way, but that had been something. It meant everything to Dakota, and it meant… nothing to Shane?
Shane had worn Dakota’s ring that night. Dakota had always imagined the ring was a little part of his own heart, right there with Shane, day in and day out.
He didn’t know he was crying until he tried to speak. His words broke, and he tasted salt on his lips. “Don’t you want anything to remember us by?” Why was Shane giving everything he had of Dakota back?
Shane’s eyes fell to his lap. “I can’t,” Shane whispered.
