by Sean Kennedy
“When are you going to get your own poster?” Carter demanded. “A lot of the other players do.”
“They’re the superstars, mate. Maybe one day.”
“I know you’ll get one. Just wait and see.”
He wished he had his greatest fan’s confidence, but it was nice to dream. He signed Carter’s poster of the whole team, and his football, and told him genuinely how nice it was to meet him.
“I’m sure you’ll see us again,” his mum told Micah, with a long-suffering grin.
As Carter ran off to get the captain’s autograph, yelling over his shoulder, “Don’t worry! You’re still the best!” in case his feelings were hurt, Carter’s mum stuck out her hand.
“I’m Jane, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you. That’s a great kid you’ve got there.”
“Well, he’s good at putting on a front sometimes.”
Micah knew that better than anybody. “Sometimes you need those defence mechanisms. Listen, if you don’t mind, do you want to give me an address where I can arrange to send him stuff from the store?”
“Really?” Jane asked. “You’d do that?”
“Hey, he’s my number one fan. He deserves special treatment.”
He wanted to say that Carter gave him hope like he supposedly gave Carter, but he didn’t want to sound mawkish. He had the feeling Jane got the gist anyway.
Carter was watching them, and Micah gave him a final wave. Carter responded excitedly, and Micah and Jane laughed.
“You have a friend for life there,” Jane said.
“Good! Who doesn’t need friends?” Micah grinned, and walked away to join Daril. He noticed a few boys slink away again, but chose to remember Carter’s wide smile and happiness at having a role model of his own. Sure, Micah doubted he was the best person for the job (what with everything going on in his life at the moment) but it was enough to take the sting away for a while.
Daril finished his signing, and accompanied Micah back off the field. They passed Carter getting his ball signed by the captain, and Daril pointed them out.
“Hey, have you dropped down the ranks already?”
“No, he’s my number one fan, really,” Micah said.
“Strange. I thought Micah Johnson’s number one fan was Micah Johnson,” Daril ribbed him.
Micah pushed him away. “Oh, piss off.”
Their laughter rang across the field, causing a flock of seagulls to take off and soar above them.
HOWEVER, MICAH still did feel a little pang on game day when he had to sit on the bench and watch the other team members run out onto the field. It wasn’t like he was alone on the bench; there were many others who weren’t selected. But Micah was the only rookie. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Daril had been there with him, but Micah was also honest enough to admit to himself that if he had been selected and Daril hadn’t, he would be on the field without any second thought of rejecting the chance to play in order to sit with his buddy in solidarity.
Hunched in his Dockers gym clothes—trackies and jacket—he still tried to look the part. Even if injury or changeover brought any of the benchers onto the field, he knew he would be pretty far down on the list. He didn’t even have his uniform underneath just in case.
His mobile buzzed in his pocket. A message from Declan.
Just remember the cameras are always watching you. Look like you belong, and you’re happy to be there.
Micah grinned to himself and sat up a little straighter. He felt a bit better knowing Declan was still looking out for him and dispensing advice as he saw fit. He wondered if Dec had seen him from the commentary box, or maybe even as the cameras were setting up. The man was still taking time out of his busy schedule for him, even though he wasn’t—officially—his mentor anymore.
How’s that, boss?
A few seconds later, a response. Much better. Even Simon agrees.
Simon was there? Micah couldn’t imagine he would be that excited, especially seeing it wasn’t a Richmond game. But it did mean he could maybe catch up with them afterwards. And drown his sorrows at being such a shit player that he wasn’t selected for their first game of the season, no matter what anybody else said.
Well, Simon knows all about being Mr Sunshine, Micah wrote.
Hey, that’s my fiancé you’re talking about.
Micah laughed softly to himself. I know. I was at the engagement party, remember?
Start paying attention to the game, and get off your phone before you get in trouble.
Micah stuck his phone back in his pocket. Dec was right. It probably didn’t look too good for the rookie to be ignoring what was happening on the field, especially if he wanted the chance to be on it next week. It was time to be a model member of the team.
The siren sounded, the first ball bounced, and Micah stood and cheered.
THE DOCKERS were resplendent in victory, although Micah felt that he really couldn’t join in as he hadn’t been part of the game. He made sure to find Daril after the victory circle. He was drenched in Gatorade, which was part of the “welcoming ceremony” every player went through after their debut.
“You smell like oranges,” Micah told him.
“I smell like victory!” Daril crowed.
This led to more cheers and backslapping all round. Micah slipped away back to his locker and started collecting his stuff. As he checked the time on his phone he realised he had quite a few missed messages. The usual suspects were all accounted for: Emma, Carl, Jack, his parents and brother and….
Kyle.
Micah’s hand involuntarily shook a little, and he sat down, overcome with how much feeling a name on a screen was causing him. This was the first time in over a month since he had heard from Kyle. At first they had still e-mailed each other constantly, even though they were broken up, but it hurt too much, and Micah went to the drastic measure of unfollowing Kyle’s feed on Facebook so he wouldn’t feel the stab of pain whenever Kyle’s face appeared on his timeline. He suspected Kyle did the same, as they never commented on or even liked each other’s updates again.
But here he was now, texting him.
Hey, hope you’re well. Sorry you didn’t start today. Next week, huh?
Micah’s fingers flew over the screen as he typed his response. That’s what I’m hoping. How are you?
Good! Settling in. Made new friends. Working hard. Sorry I haven’t been in touch.
It’s okay. I know how busy it is.
Yeah, I know you do. Moving’s hard. But it’s been worth it.
Micah wasn’t convinced that he could say the same thing just yet, but maybe Kyle was setting a precedent for him to follow, in which his time in Perth would start improving. Thanks for thinking of me.
Cool. Don’t be a stranger.
You too.
By now the other players were infiltrating the change room, and Micah realised after a while that Kyle had probably stopped texting. He was just about to put his phone away when it buzzed again. He almost lost his grip, he was so excited at the thought of Kyle’s response, but it was just a message from Declan. Want to meet at Gate 3 in 20?
Sure. See you there.
HE FOBBED off after-game drinks. Some of the players seemed pretty impressed he was meeting up with Declan Tyler. A couple of the older guys said to pass on their hellos, as they had played with Dec at the end of his career and the beginning of theirs. Declan Tyler had everyone’s respect, it seemed. Micah hoped one day they would feel the same way about him.
Simon and Dec were already waiting for him. Simon was swinging on a gate, and Dec was telling him he was going to fall off and break something. Some things never changed.
“Oh, hi!” Simon yelled, and the gate slammed shut with him on the other side.
Dec rolled his eyes, and brought Micah in for a hug. “Hey, how are you?”
“Good.” Seeing the two of them in the flesh again made him feel much happier than he had in a while. Almost like the way things had been last year be
fore life and work intervened.
“Oi!” Simon yelled, and rattled the iron gate unhappily. “I think I’m stuck.”
“Of course you are,” Dec murmured.
“A little help, please!”
It took Simon pushing on the gate and Dec and Micah pulling on it from their side to finally release Simon. Instead of walking through like a normal person, Simon jumped on the gate again, and rode it out, whooping.
“Simon, don’t!” Dec yelled to no avail.
Simon jumped off before it crashed into the brick wall opposite with such force that it bounced back, narrowly missing him, and wedging shut again.
“Perfect dismount!” Simon crowed. “That’s a ten from the Russian judges, can you believe it?”
“How much has he been drinking?” Micah asked Dec.
“Would you believe only three beers during the course of the game?”
“At least he’s a cheap date,” Micah shrugged.
“Who said I’m cheap?” Simon grabbed Micah and strangled him in a passionate bear hug. “I’ve missed you, Micah Johnson!”
“Really?”
“Really.” Simon nodded. “You’re our little project, now grown wings and flying. In fact, one could say, you’re the wind beneath our wings.”
“I’m really not. And please don’t start singing.”
“Let’s get him some coffee,” Dec said to Micah.
“Coffee!” Simon’s eyes brightened at the thought. “Is there a place in Perth that actually sells coffee?”
“You fucking Melbourne snob,” Micah said.
“Well, you do have lots of Maccas, so I guess you can get coffee there. But then again, McDonald’s coffee, blurgh.”
“Maybe we could just leave him here,” Micah suggested.
“Somebody has to make sure he doesn’t antagonise the locals,” Dec said. “I would like him to come home in one piece.”
ONCE THEY got some coffee into him, Simon began to sober up. “I think someone put something in my beer,” he groaned.
Micah had driven them into the café strip in Leederville. He and Dec had gotten a bit of attention on the street, so they found the darkest corner in one of the least inhabited coffee shops so they could get some peace.
“No, you’re just a Cadbury Kid,” Dec told Simon.
“I refuse to believe three beers did that to me.”
“You’re right, somebody obviously spiked your drink,” Micah said.
Dec threw his hands up in the air. “Okay, I admit it! It was me! I did it so I could have my wicked way with you later tonight!”
Simon grinned. “You don’t have to spike my drink in order to do that.”
“Ugh, time out,” Micah protested. “Impressionable teenagers present.”
“You were never impressionable,” Simon pointed out. “And you’re not even a teenager really. Okay, you’re eighteen. But that makes you officially an adult. You’re a big boy, now!” He winced. “That sounded wrong.”
“So wrong,” Dec agreed.
“What made you want to come to Perth, anyway?” Micah asked Simon. “I mean, Dec had to. It was his job. You didn’t have to suffer so badly.”
“Ah, Perth’s not that bad. I’ve discovered spearmint milk. Who would have thought minty milk could taste so heavenly?”
Micah leaned in excitedly. “It’s pretty good, actually!”
“Gross,” Dec said. “It tastes like somebody dumped a tube of Colgate in your milk.”
“I seem to remember you liking Blue Heaven,” Micah reminded him. “That’s worse.”
“Yeah, don’t go pointing any fingers at spearmint milk,” Simon said, “lest you… find… the finger pointed back at you?” He trailed off. “Some things sound better in your head.”
“And in your case, a lot of the time.”
“You guys still haven’t answered my question,” Micah said.
“There was a question?” Simon asked.
“I think you need another coffee,” Dec said.
Micah didn’t think it was the best idea to replace an alcohol buzz with a caffeine buzz, especially when it came to Simon Murray. “The reason why you’re both here,” he prompted them.
“Oh, that,” Simon said. “Just a little holiday.”
Declan nodded.
They were being a little vague. “Where?”
“Albany,” Simon said. “I saw something about it online. I know it’s the wrong time of year to see whales, but we can come back in winter if we want. I like whales.”
A look passed between Simon and Dec, a hint of some shared memory Micah wasn’t privy to.
“Yeah, whales are cool.” Dec grinned.
“But, I mean, the rest of Albany looks great too. I love the coast. All those rocks and water. Like something out of a Brontë novel.”
“Don’t they usually end badly?” Micah asked, remembering vaguely that both lovers died at the end of Wuthering Heights.
“Not Jane Eyre,” Simon said.
“Um, a woman goes crazy and burns a house down and cripples the hero and makes him blind,” Dec reminded him. At Micah’s look, he got defensive. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to sit through a BBC production of some old book?”
“But Jane still ends up with him. And they’re very happy living in the remains of their home. I’m sure they ended up getting it renovated or something,” Simon reminded him. “And don’t try and save face in front of Micah. You liked Pride and Prejudice.”
“That’s Jane Austen, not Brontë. Jane Austen likes a happy ending. The Brontës are dour and miserable.”
It looked like World War Three was going to erupt at their table, so Micah stepped in as the role of the UN. “How long are you going down there for?”
Crisis averted. “About a week,” Dec said.
“We’re going to take our time driving down,” Simon added. “See what’s along the way. Did you know Western Australia has the longest wooden jetty in the southern hemisphere?”
“How exciting for them,” Micah drawled.
Simon threw a sugar packet at him. “Don’t be so snobbish, Micah! It would be even longer except a really bad storm washed part of it away.”
“Jetties and rocks,” Micah told Dec. “I don’t know how you’ll contain yourself.”
“I’m actually looking forward to it.”
That look passed between Simon and Dec again. Simon suddenly grew very interested in his empty cup of coffee and took off to get another one.
“Is everything okay?” Micah asked, not sure if he should butt in.
“Everything’s fine,” Dec said, and he obviously meant it. “We just have a lot of decisions to make, and Simon… well, Simon’s wanting to procrastinate just a little bit longer.”
That was something Micah could relate to. “I’m sure it will all work out.”
“Of course it will,” Dec said. “We’ve survived this long. We’re stuck with each other.”
He didn’t have to tell Micah how happy he was with that revelation. It was written all over his face as he watched Simon walking back to their table.
“Perth doesn’t seem that bad.” Simon sighed contentedly as he sank back into the booth.
Micah wished they would move here. It felt good having friends again.
BUT SEEING them only reminded him how lonely he was.
Once they went their separate ways, Micah activated Grindr and found an interested party. Afterwards, he went home, had a shower, and blocked the guy so he couldn’t contact him again.
And lay in bed, unable to sleep and miserable.
Chapter 4
MICAH, WHO had already been giving a hundred and ten percent at training, pushed through the barrier to give a hundred and twenty throughout the week. He wanted to show the coaching staff that there was no way they could leave him off the team roster for the game that weekend. Sam told him to take it easier in case he did himself some damage, but it wasn’t advice that Micah was about to take on board.
&nbs
p; He was happy, however, that he would be back in Melbourne, however briefly, as they had an away match with Collingwood. This meant he could stay with his parents and his brother, and for a short time at least feel that he was home again. He had to make the team, so the Johnsons wouldn’t come to the game for nothing. He wanted them to see him on the field, in his new colours, possibly kicking a goal or at least taking a really good mark—to prove that leaving them was actually achieving something.
Of course he knew he didn’t have to prove anything to his family—all in all, he probably just wanted to prove it to himself.
And if he played, it would be his first time on the ground at the MCG—the Mecca of AFL football. It was hallowed ground, and he wanted to feel it beneath his feet as a player, not as a bencher.
The other weird thing was Kyle kept texting him. After not having heard from him in a couple of months, Micah didn’t know what to make of their renewed “friendship.” All he knew was that he missed Kyle and wished he was still in Melbourne so he could try to see him at some point on the trip home.
So he decided he would put out some feelers one evening.
Do you miss Melbourne? he texted.
The response was faster than he expected. Of course I do. I bet you Canberra’s even more boring than Perth.
I’d like to take that bet.
Perth isn’t a city full of public servants and politicians, for starters.
Micah grinned. Okay, you win. That DOES sound like hell on earth.
Especially when parliament’s sitting. Anyway, I’m two hours ahead of you, remember? I’m off to bed.
He really didn’t want to imagine Kyle in bed right now. He knew from experience Kyle liked to wear very little under the covers, and Micah had dedicated every inch of that body to memory. He had especially liked the row of freckles between his shoulder blades, which would ripple like a snake whenever he moved in bed. How many nights had Micah watched him sleep, sometimes tracing their line across his skin? How many times had he settled down for the night, his lips pressed against them as he played big spoon against Kyle’s little spoon? Which was really ironic, seeing as Kyle was both taller and broader than he was.
