by Sean Kennedy
“What, would you accept that excuse from Kyle?”
Jess shrugged. “I don’t know. Breakups are hard, you know? Especially if leaving one person for another is the reason. There’s always a weird crossover period where you have feelings for both of them, and I guess shit happens.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
She set down her mug, and her body posture became more guarded. “I guess so.”
“Oh.”
“Haven’t you?”
“I, uh… haven’t had much—” Emma took a heavy gulp of her coffee. “—experience.” She was only twenty, for fuck’s sake! How much experience was she meant to have?
But look at Trish. Only a year older, and she had jammed more relationships in a year than Emma had in her whole life. She wasn’t slut-shaming, just giving the facts. She guessed this was how the law of averages worked out. But she now looked at Jess in a new light, not a bad one, she had to stress, wondering how much more experience Jess had than her.
Jess looked at her tenderly and reached for her hand. “We’re only twenty,” she said, as if she had read Emma’s mind. “None of us are meant to be Casanova.”
“Maybe I just think differently from everyone else. Cheating would be a deal breaker for me.”
“Hey, it would be for me as well!” Jess said. “But things can be screwed up. I’m just saying that Micah and Kyle may be able to get through this. I mean, they both broke up other relationships. They’re on opposite sides of the country. Maybe they’ll have an open relationship.”
Emma couldn’t picture Micah being okay with that. But maybe she didn’t know either of them like she thought she did. Maybe she was being too heteronormative in her thinking about queer relationships. And maybe that was homophobic to think that? Because plenty of straight couples had “flexible” boundaries as well.
What it boiled down to was that they would have to define the terms of their relationship, and that had nothing to do with her. But perhaps it meant she had to work this out with Jess, especially if they were embarking upon a real relationship.
“What’s wrong?” Jess asked. “You look confused. Or constipated. I’m not sure.”
“I am,” Emma replied.
Jess stared at her. “Constipated?”
At least she had a sense of humour. “It’s just kind of depressing seeing all this cheating going around when we’re just starting, you know?”
“What, you think we’re doomed from the very beginning?” Her tone was light, but her expression wasn’t.
“No, not at all.” Was that a lie? As Jess had said before, they were only twenty. It meant the chances of them being together for the rest of their lives were pretty slim unless they were one of those couples who defied the odds by getting together really young and staying that way. And you didn’t get your princess without kissing a lot of frogs, right? Trish was Emma’s frog. She would be happy if Trish was her only frog and Jess would be the princess, but who knew?
“Good,” Jess said. If she felt any doubts as well, she didn’t show them. And Emma was grateful for that, because you can’t enter a relationship expecting and already guessing at the date of termination.
But as usual she was getting ahead of herself and neglecting the pleasures of the present.
“You do know this whole Micah and Kyle thing is really ironic, what with our ex sniffing around?” Jess suddenly said.
“The irony is noted. And now I’m ignoring it.”
“No, but really. It’s almost like the universe is throwing us a sign, telling us to be careful of exes who are now pretending to be false friends. It’s so obvious.”
“Well, the universe likes to fuck with people a lot.” Emma was now unbuttoning Jess’s jeans, and she was looking at Emma through half-lidded eyes. Once Emma’s hand could fit in, she slid her fingers along until they found purchase. Jess gave a slight moan, cut off with Emma’s free hand as she silenced her with a giggle.
“Are your roommates home?”
Jess shook her head.
“Good.” She leaned in and kissed her, her hand teasingly starting its exploration again.
Chapter 13
YOU WOULD think that Emma wouldn’t have the time to go to practice and classes, seeing as she was so busy sorting out everybody’s love lives—especially her own—but she was an excellent multitasker and even managed to make it early to that morning’s training session.
Unfortunately, Trish was also early. Emma hesitated at the door to the change room. She didn’t want to have another awkward conversation right now, but she guessed if she had to fix up other people’s problems, then she would also have to paper over the cracks that were her own.
“Morning,” Emma said, finally walking in.
Trish looked at her warily, trying to gauge her mood. “Good morning.”
It turned into a staring contest. Trish fidgeted under Emma’s gaze but to her credit didn’t look away.
She was the first one to break, however. “Fine, who’s going to be the first to apologise?”
“Not me,” Emma said. “You were the one to start the slanging match, saying that I never get anywhere by my own merit.”
Trish sighed. “I did, didn’t I?”
“I would’ve recorded it if I’d known I’d need it for evidence.”
She held up her hand. “Peace, okay?”
“I still haven’t heard an apology.”
It seemed she was really struggling with it, and then it was spat out. “I’m sorry, okay?” Even though it was rushed, it seemed genuine enough.
“Apology accepted.” Emma made her way to her locker and stored her bag away.
“Uh, what about me?” Trish asked to her back.
Emma turned to look at her. “What about you?”
“My apology?”
“Didn’t you just make it?”
“Your apology to me!”
It was so easy to needle her. Did Emma always have this power? She didn’t think she knew she had it back then. Or maybe she just never wanted to use it against Trish. How the tables had turned! “You started the argument.”
“Yeah, and you made sure to continue it.”
“Fine, I’m sorry.” Emma didn’t sound as genuine and really didn’t care, although she guessed sincerity should really count for something.
But Trish accepted it. “Okay. I mean, we still have to work together on the scratch match. I wouldn’t want any drama between us to affect that.”
Emma bit her tongue. “Sure. Me neither.” She turned and started to pull her stick out of the locker.
“So we can meet tonight again? Compare notes on what we’ve got so far?”
“Sure.” It was the last thing Emma wanted to do, but seeing as she had seen Jess every night since they had gotten together, she didn’t want them to get sick of each other too quickly. Although telling Jess she was seeing Trish might cause a little bit of angst, especially in light of the whole Micah and Kyle fallout.
“Good,” Trish said. “See you around eight?”
Emma slung her stick over her shoulder. “Why not?”
SHE WAS surprised to see Trish sitting in her common room, a pile of notebooks before her as she worked on some papers. Emma had been prepared for another uncomfortable night in Trish’s room. Maybe she was finally listening to her and there would be no more innuendo, imagined or not.
In fact, Trish was all business. They shared figures of motel room rates and tabled the top three to show Jackie and get her approval. Then their little one-on-one sessions would be done, and Emma hoped they wouldn’t be paired together again.
Micah rang her just as Emma got back to her own building and waited for the lift.
He sounded much happier than she was expecting him to be. “Thanks so much for speaking to Kyle last night.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“You did something.”
“I called him a cheater.”
“Well, technically I guess he wasn�
��t?”
She couldn’t believe Micah was saying that. In fact, he sounded like he was parroting Kyle’s excuses back to her. “Oh, really?”
“I mean, it’s a bizarre time, and there are feelings, and I guess now we just start with a clean slate.” He was babbling, and even though Emma was filling in the holes between his sentences she couldn’t help but feel déjà vu.
“You know, I heard this all before last night. And I thought it sounded like a cop-out then too.”
Instantly Micah’s tone soured. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
Emma sighed. “Look, maybe we should talk about this later.”
The lift opened up on her floor, and all she wanted to do was get into her room and throw herself on her bed.
“No, I want to talk about this now.”
“Micah—”
“Seriously, Em, why are you being like this?”
She’d had enough. “How come you always want my help with stuff, but when I give you advice you don’t like, you just turn on me?”
“You haven’t even given me advice on this yet. All you’ve done is be snarky all of a sudden.”
“I ran around for hours for you yesterday. So don’t tell me I’m not being supportive. But yeah, I think getting with Kyle is a mistake.” By now Emma was in her room, glad she hadn’t run into anybody in the common area so they would have known she was party to a pretty massive argument.
“Why?” The switch had been flipped again. Angry Micah was now bewildered and hurt Micah, so blind to the whole Kyle situation, he genuinely couldn’t understand why Emma wasn’t putting on a short skirt and leading the cheer team for their relationship.
“You both cheated on your boyfriends. Then he cheated on you with the boyfriend he broke up with in order to be with you. Can’t you see the problem?”
“So it’s all one big fucked-up thing. But we’re starting fresh.”
“So you both say.” Emma kicked off her shoes and sat on the end of her bed.
“What, you don’t think we’re serious about this?”
“I think you are.”
Silence on the other end.
“Micah?”
“I’ve gotta go. Bye.”
He didn’t even wait for her to reply. Emma threw herself back on the bed, feeling a mix of anger, bitterness, sadness, and guilt. How many more emotions could she fit in there? She should have kept her big mouth shut. Being honest got you nowhere.
SHE DIDN’T feel any better in the morning. As much as she was pissed at Micah for putting her in this position and then getting pissy at her for it, Emma was angry at herself for not remembering that it is always the messenger who gets shot.
“More drama?” Alya asked, looking up from her paper when Emma entered the common room, and balked at the expression that served as Emma’s reply. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talking is bullshit,” Emma told her. “Talking always gets you into trouble.”
“Okay,” she drawled. “I’ll let you talk when you want to, shall I?”
“Don’t count on it.”
Alya disappeared back behind the newspaper, probably wishing it were made of brick to protect herself from Emma’s foul energy.
Emma was hoping there would be a message from Micah full of regret and begging for her forgiveness, but there wasn’t. She should have known better; she had seen Micah engaged in many a war with some other person. She should have known one day it would be her on that battlefield.
So it was best not to increase her roster of enemies. She counted to ten silently in order to calm herself and asked Alya in a much different tone from seconds earlier, “Would you like a cuppa?”
The newspaper was laid back down on the table, and Alya scrutinised her. “That would be nice, thanks.”
Emma smiled and hoped it didn’t look too much like the Joker’s.
SHE MAINTAINED radio silence with Micah over the next few days and couldn’t pretend she wasn’t hurt when she didn’t hear from him. She expected it, but it still burned. Emma tried to push it all from her mind, and what with practice, tutorials, meetings with Trish and the coach about the scratch match, and spending time with her girlfriend, she was able to do that 95 percent of the time.
She even saw Kyle from a distance a couple of times, but hastily increased the distance between them so he wouldn’t see her. She wasn’t going to talk to him when she wasn’t talking to Micah. Anything she said would just be passed along and probably get five times worse in a bizarre game of Chinese Whispers. Best to wait until she could speak to the real deal.
And Emma wasn’t running to patch things up with him this time.
“I don’t know, I guess it’s kind of natural he feels hurt,” Jess told her. “I mean, he is madly in love with this guy and probably has been all along, especially because they broke up out of being in different states, not because they didn’t want to be with each other. So all he sees is they’ve worked past the problem and are finally going to be together again, and you’re being a cranky bitch who hates love.”
Emma’s mouth actually dropped open. They could have remodelled the entrance of Luna Park with her current face.
Jess laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “I don’t think you are! I’m just saying from his hormonally and emotionally charged crazy mindset.”
Emma gratefully settled against her chest. “I like that you’re defending my friend. But don’t ever do it again. At least not when I’m fighting with them.”
Jess ran her fingers along Emma’s wrist, and her skin ached with pleasure. “Oh, believe me, if he was here I’d probably take to him with your hockey stick until he sees sense.”
“We’re talking about Micah. Although maybe having his head caved in would rewire his brain.”
“You’re a good, loyal friend who only wants the best for him. If he’s smart, he’ll see that.”
“Like I said, rewiring the brain will be involved.”
“He must have part of a brain if he’s managed to be your friend this long. I mean, look at you and Trish.”
Emma could see the sign ahead: Danger! Minefield next 300M. Proceed with caution. “What about me and Trish?”
“Well, you’re working together, and neither of you have murdered the other.”
“Yeah, but we’re not friends. There’s no emotional investment there.”
“None at all?”
If there was a trap lying in front of her, Emma couldn’t see it. But that was the definition of a trap. “It’s not like I wish her harm or anything. Just I feel the same about working with her as I would if I never spoke to her again. I just don’t care enough.”
“Don’t you think not feeling anything says something?”
Bang! There it was—the trap falling down around her. Emma peered out through the bars to where Jess and Trish were standing together, the smoke of a war zone framing them as they laughed at her predicament.
How the hell could she answer this without getting herself blown up?
“It’s been, like, over two years since I broke up with Trish. I’m well and truly past it.”
“Yeah, it was almost two years between Micah and Kyle too, and look at them.”
“Well, I’m not Micah Johnson.” Perish the thought.
“That’s good,” Jess said. “Because I wouldn’t want to do this to Micah Johnson.”
Her lips hovered over Emma’s, and she gave her a warm and genuine smile before kissing her. Emma twisted around so she was facing her, and the kiss got even better.
GOING HOME on the bus the next morning, having secured a promise from Jess that next time Emma wouldn’t have to do the travelling and she would spend the night at the AIS—a sleepover, what fun!—Emma’s phone buzzed and she finally had a message from Micah.
Hey. Sorry I’ve been incognito.
She wanted to wait and let him sit in suspense, but truth be told she was happy that it had only taken him four days to contact her. Emma was expecting a week and a
half, if not two. I think you mean incommunicado.
I’m a dumb footballer. You expect me to speak gooder English?
The doofus. But he had made her smile, and that actually meant a lot. I’m surprised you’re speaking to me at all.
Why? You did nothing wrong. I asked for your opinion didn’t I?
It was too hard to have this conversation via text. Emma dialled his number, and he picked up immediately. “I don’t recall you actually asking for my opinion.”
“I’m sure it was implied.” He sounded normal again, and she could tell he had gotten out of his system whatever he had been storing up against her. Micah Johnson’s list was a long one, and Emma guessed she was off it for now.
“Bet you’re sorry now that I gave it.”
He thought about his answer. “No. I know where you’re coming from.”
“I’m your friend, Micah. I’m going to call you out on things. Always. And I expect the same from you.” Emma made her way to the very back seat to get away from the prying ears near her.
“Well, will you hurry up and start fucking up so I can do so?”
How little did he know! But she really didn’t feel like getting into the long, sorry saga of her ex haunting her new relationship and Emma being forced to work with her so closely. He would have a field day with all that information, and rightly so. For someone who claimed to try to keep drama out of her life, Emma wasn’t exactly succeeding right now.
“Give me time,” she said breezily, thinking it would be sooner rather than later.
Chapter 14
THE WEEKEND came faster than Emma expected, and she was dreading the thought of leaving town for the scratch match and having to stay in a motel for an evening. With her luck the proprietor would be Norman Bates, and Trish would be playing the part of his much beloved mother seeking to stab nubile athletes in the privacy of their shower.
“It’s funny how your fantasies always turn to murder,” Jess told her when she shared that fear. “Should I be worried?”
