by Sean Kennedy
“You really think if you’re in a wheelchair you can’t contribute?” Emma asked. “Jesus, Will, disabled people all over the world are ready to disown you if you think they’re that incapable.”
“I don’t think that.”
“It sounds like you do,” Emma said.
Micah jumped in before they got too heated. “You can start uni next year. Use your brain, unlike dunderheads like me.”
“You’ve got brains,” Will scoffed.
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be using them for a while.” He turned to Emma, who was just about to say something. “Don’t even bother! Your comebacks are so predictable even Mystic Meg would be able to see them and finally give an accurate reading.”
She left her mouth open for comic effect, and to their relief it got a genuine chuckle out of Will.
“I know it’s trite for us to sit here and tell you that everything’s going to be fine,” Micah said, “but we’re not saying everything is going to be fine. Some things will be fine. But it’s just going to be difficult.”
“For fuck’s sake, Micah,” Emma said. “Was that your idea of a pep talk?”
“It’s fine,” Will said.
“No, it’s not. That was shocking. How are you ever going to be a captain someday, if that’s how you think you’re cheering people on to victory?”
“Okay, it needs more work,” Micah admitted.
“If you were a horse, you’d be off to the glue factory,” Emma said. “Anyhow, I’m going to have to leave you boys alone for a minute while I run to the loo.”
They sat in silence as she slammed the door behind her, and it was somewhat awkward.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Will rolled his head to look at Micah directly. “I have to say something.”
This was never a good start to a sentence. “What?”
“I just wanted to say I was sorry.”
“What have you got to be sorry for?”
Will adjusted himself slightly, and hissed at the pain.
“Don’t do that,” Micah told him. “What do you want?”
“Can you push my pillow up? I feel like I’m sinking.”
As far as Micah could tell, Will hadn’t moved. He stood and fluffed the pillow, making it more stable between Will’s neck and back. “Is that better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Micah stared down at Will. “What were you saying before?”
“Sit down. I feel nervous with you standing over me.”
Micah did so, but scooted his chair closer. “I’ll say again, what have you got to be sorry about?”
“I have a lot of time to think in here,” Will said. “As you can imagine. And I just keep mulling over last year and everything that happened between us.”
“Will, we settled that last year when you joined GetOut. There’s nothing to apologise about.”
“It’s just… with recent events… I can’t help thinking this is my punishment.”
Micah was torn between wanting to shake him, or pulling Will into his arms and not letting go. “That is such bullshit.”
“Why?”
“If you’re talking about hitting me, for fuck’s sake, I don’t want to sound like I’m condoning violence, but it was a stupid punch that many stupid teenage boofheads exchange every year at high school!”
“It wasn’t, and you know it. I knocked you out. Then I let you stand in that office and take the blame because I was a coward.”
“No offence, but with the way your dad is, I now understand why and I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Why, because it bought me a few more months at home?”
“It’s something, at least.”
“It was nothing.”
Micah hated the defeat in Will’s voice. “There is no such thing as karma or divine retribution. Believe me, I would be lying in the bed next to you if that was the case, after all the shit I pulled on people.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“Will, one day I will tell you my long sad sorry tale of how fucked up I’ve been. The entire, uncensored, non-Reader’s Digest version of how much I’ve fucked over other people and myself. But today isn’t that day. Today is the day to tell you that you did nothing to deserve this. And you are never to say it again.”
“It won’t stop me thinking it.”
“Can I tell you something?”
“What?”
“It’s 2016. We should be past self-loathing.”
“I don’t hate myself.” But Will’s tone lacked conviction.
“You bullied me online because you hated I wasn’t closeted like you, and I was surviving.” Before Will could start apologising again, Micah grabbed his hand. “And it’s fucked up, but it’s society being fucked up that made you like that because it told you that you were wrong, because your dad told you guys like us were wrong, and you believed it. And I did too, so that’s why I’m not mad at you anymore. The closet makes us do fucked up things. I did stuff, you did stuff, but we can move past that, Will. We have to.”
Will gave a weak smile. “That’s a great speech, Micah.”
Micah shrugged. “I’ve been rehearsing it.”
“You really think we hated ourselves?”
“Part of us did,” Micah said. “And we’re far too modern to keep on doing it. So from today, you stop apologising to me. And I will say sorry to you one last time. Because I wasn’t innocent in that change room either. I goaded you. I wanted you to confront yourself. I wanted you to hurt like I had hurt. And I succeeded. I wanted you to fall under my considerable spell and try to kiss me so I could reject you in the worst way.”
“Apology accepted,” Will said. “I’m too tired to fight your considerable spell.”
Micah grinned. “Yeah. Apology accepted.”
“That day feels like it was a decade ago, not a year. I wish we could somehow go back and tell those kids they were going to be okay, no matter what happened in the future.”
“So you know you’re going to be okay?” Micah asked.
Will hesitated before answering, but nodded. “Yeah. I guess I have to be.”
And Micah leaned in and kissed him.
It wasn’t a pity kiss; just a brief brush across the mouth, with true tenderness to it. Will responded just as sweetly, his hand lightly caressing the back of Micah’s neck.
When Micah drew away there were tears in Will’s eyes.
“Don’t,” Micah said softly. “Please, don’t.”
“Why did you do that?”
“To have a proper kiss, after those aborted, awful ones last year. Closure. Was I wrong to do it?”
Will shook his head. “But we’re friends, now.”
Micah nodded.
“Then shake, friend.”
They shook hands.
“You know,” Will said, “Emma’s been in the loo a really long time.”
Micah suddenly remembered her lack of presence. “I better go and check she hasn’t fallen in.”
EMMA WAS only a little way down the hall, in the awful row of green plastic chairs set aside for visitors. As Micah approached her, she hid her face and he realised she was silently crying.
“Emma, what’s wrong?”
A loud sniff. “Nothing.”
“You know what, I come out of Will’s room, finally having an emotional breakthrough with him, and here you are, hiding something. We’re past that, aren’t we?”
“It’s because of that I’m crying.”
“Huh? You’ve lost me.”
Emma turned to face him, with her nose reddened and eyes watery. “I eavesdropped on you just now.”
“Oh, Emma.” But he couldn’t reproach her.
“I didn’t mean to. You guys didn’t see me at the door, and I stopped when I heard what you were talking about. So I shut the door, but left it open just a little.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to think it’s crazy. Or a little bit psycho.”
“Hit me.”
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“I was just happy you guys were finally talking. Honestly. I mean, you had that little talk the day you found out he had joined GetOut, but today you were finally putting everything to rest. While we’ve been away I really feel like I’ve become friends with Will, and I knew how much he held on to everything that happened between you last year. It was something he couldn’t forgive himself for.”
Whereas, for Micah, it had been something he had barely thought of since. Not in a mean or selfish way, but because he had truly thought it was settled. It seemed Will had been dwelling on a lot of issues, and Micah had been too clueless to realise.
As if reading his mind, Emma said, “It’s not something to make you feel guilty. You were in Perth; there was no way you could have known.”
“But I had spoken to him a couple of times, even if it was only messages on Facebook. He had to know I wasn’t bearing any grudges.”
“I guess he just needed to have it said openly. And maybe he never thought it would be, especially as you guys weren’t even in the same city anymore. Maybe he didn’t think he would get the forgiveness he wanted.”
“But I—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you proved it to him today. And honestly, I didn’t know if you could. That day on the field when you first realised Will had joined GetOut, I didn’t think you had it in you. But you surprised me then, and you surprised me today.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
“But I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I know what you’re like, Micah. You’re not that same shit that used to act like he was better than everybody else and that nothing could touch him. I mean, you never were that shit, because it was all an act, but I still didn’t like you then.”
“Don’t forget it was you who took a chance on being my friend. I didn’t deserve it, honestly. Everything you said about me was right. The way I treated people.”
“Maybe Will isn’t the only one who needs convincing that he’s forgiven.”
It was so simple; he was an idiot for never seeing it in himself.
“Ah, there it is,” Emma said. “The lightbulb above your head. It’s blinding me.”
It was almost blinding him too. Micah hugged her fiercely, and she yelped as she wasn’t expecting it. Her arms tightened around him and he didn’t want her to let go.
“Micah, seriously, is something wrong? Are you okay?”
The gory details couldn’t be shared, not at this moment. It would take too much energy, and he needed that in order to tell the people who could help him the most. Emma had to wait for another day of deep-and-meaningfuls. “Not yet. But I think it will be.”
“WHERE HAVE you been?” his mother asked as he entered the house. “You have to be at the airport in two hours!”
“At the hospital,” he told her, dropping his new messenger bag on the couch.
Joanne’s face softened. “How is Will?”
“I think he’s getting better.”
“That’s good. But I’ve been worried about you, Micah. You haven’t been home, Sam’s been calling here for you—”
Shit. It was a good thing he was planning to come clean, then.
“—And we’ve barely seen you the whole time you’ve been home.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Micah sighed, and threw himself down on the couch besides his bag. “I don’t think I have enough time to tell you everything before I have to go.”
“Then give me the gist of it.” She sat beside him, expectantly.
The gist of it wouldn’t even begin to cover everything.
“You better call Dad in,” Micah said. “And Alex, while you’re at it.”
Chapter 15
MICAH WAS surprised his family had actually let him leave Melbourne. Talking to them, really talking to them, had been a sobering experience. He had left out some of the more salubrious details, instead telling them he wasn’t handling being away from home very well at all. But he had admitted to the drinking and some of the one-night stands. The depression was the icing on the cake. His parents had looked stricken enough, so he couldn’t tell them about his most recent night with Paul and the consequences of it. Alex, as usual, had looked grave—but that was his natural facial expression. Still, Micah knew he was just as concerned, and that was a burden for a thirteen-year-old who deserved to have an older brother who looked out for him instead of the other way round.
“What have they been doing over there?” his father fumed.
“Rick,” Joanne said. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”
“Let me just say one thing,” Micah said. “Please, don’t blame Sam. He and his family have done everything they could to help me adjust, but I’ve kept them in the dark just as much as I have you. I was very good at hiding from them the stuff I was doing.”
Rick cleared his throat. “Uh, is there more you have to tell us?”
“You don’t really want a list, do you, Dad?”
“No, I guess not.”
Micah turned to Alex. “You’re being quiet.”
“There’s nothing I can say.”
“I’m sure there is. You’re part of this family, aren’t you? Your opinion is mandatory.”
“Stop badgering your brother,” Rick said.
“I just want to know what he’s thinking.”
Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I guess I just want to know why you always keep doing the same thing. You said last year you’d learnt from your mistakes, and here you are doing it all over again. It’s like you want to wreck everything good that’s happening to you.”
Wow. Alex didn’t hold back. But it was good. It was what Micah needed to hear.
His parents were waiting, almost too scared to see what his reaction would be.
“You want to know something, Alex? Sometimes I really don’t know. I guess I justified it by thinking I was dealing with my problems in my own way, and I didn’t have to get you guys involved.”
“So why get us involved now?”
He was scared he was going to lose it and start bawling in front of them. “Because it got too hard. And I knew I needed help.”
Alex slowly nodded. “So, it’s like you stopped yourself from doing something really stupid, like when you ran away?”
“Bit hard to run away when you guys are in a different state,” Micah said, trying to alleviate the tension in the room a little even though his humour usually backfired. “But, yeah. I ran away last year because I couldn’t deal. And right now, I’m not dealing. So I’m coming to you guys.”
Joanne looked at Rick, some silent exchange occurring between them Micah couldn’t figure out, and then looked back at him. “Thank you for telling us. But your dad and I need to have a talk now about what we can do to help you.”
“Shouldn’t I be in on this conversation?”
“You’ve kept us out of the loop, allow us one hour to do the same.” She flinched at how hard she sounded, and laid her hand upon his arm. “I’m sorry. We’re just worried. So, please, let us talk to each other and then we’ll come in and see you.”
Micah nodded. “I guess I’ll go and pack.”
“I’ll help you,” Alex said.
In Micah’s room they could hear the hushed voices of their parents as they discussed yet another bomb Micah had dropped on them. Alex closed the door so they became even more muted.
“I’m sorry that I’m doing this to you again,” Micah said.
“No, I’m glad.”
“Really? Shit, you’re a glutton for punishment.”
“I mean, I’m glad because you’re telling us you’re in trouble this time.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m in trouble,” Micah said, and paused. “Okay, I guess I’m in some form of trouble.”
“It’s an improvement on last year, at least.”
Micah wondered if Alex would feel the same had he known about the antiviral drugs hidden in Micah’s new bag. Mi
cah carefully folded the bag in two and stuck it inside his suitcase.
“You packed light,” Alex said.
“Not light enough,” Micah said, but he didn’t explain what he meant.
MICAH STARED at his parents. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s an option,” Rick said.
“One we’re thinking very seriously about,” Joanne added.
“But what about Alex?” Micah asked. “He has to be let in on this decision, right?”
“We’ll talk to him about it.”
“I can’t let you guys do this.”
“We don’t know if we’re doing it yet. There are a lot of things we need to discuss, and there isn’t enough time because we’re already running late for the airport.” Joanne stood back and observed him for a moment, before hugging him mercilessly. “Just please don’t say anything to Alex yet. He has to hear it from us.”
“You promise me, if he doesn’t want to do it, you don’t force him. There are other ways to help me. In fact, I’m going to talk to Sam once I’m back in Perth. Once he knows, he’ll help me. We don’t have to go to such extremes.”
“Micah,” Rick said, coming over and hugging him as well. Micah was crushed between both of his parents, but it was a good crush rather than an overbearing one. “We promised you that we would help you with anything, as long as you came to us. We don’t want a repeat of last year where you were in so much trouble you ran away.”
“That’s not going to happen. It’s why I told you.”
“Just tell me one thing,” Joanne said.
“Okay.”
“Would this help you, if we do this? Or would we make it worse?”
His mum and dad looked at him expectantly. Honesty was required here, but to be honest meant being selfish. Perhaps the most selfish he had ever been in his life. And Alex was already pretty self-aware about how he always had to take a back seat to Micah’s demands.
“Micah,” his dad said, prompting an answer from him.
“Yes,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I think it would. Help me, I mean.”
