by Sean Kennedy
“What are you thinking about?” Rick asked.
Still, it was early days yet. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his dad about his daydreams of life with a boyfriend.
“I was just thinking I had to stay at school anyway. It’s not like you and Mum really want to homeschool me, huh?”
The look on Rick’s face was akin to someone who had just seen the girl from The Ring crawl out of the well.
“Thought not,” Micah said.
WHEN HE woke the next morning, Micah winced immediately. He knew his eye was in worse shape than it had been when he went to bed. He wasn’t brave enough to face the mirror just yet, so he made his way to the kitchen, where the hope of coffee and Weet-Bix would somehow combine to make a cure.
His mother’s barely concealed scream when he walked into the kitchen all but confirmed his new deformity.
“Calm down!” he cried. “You’re making it worse!”
“I don’t see how I could.”
Unsure of how to broach the subject of wagging school—even with parental permission—Micah cleared his throat. “Mum, I don’t want to seem like I’m avoiding—”
“You’re not going to school looking like that.”
Relieved, Micah slumped thankfully onto a chair. “Good.”
“In fact, you might never go back to it again.”
“But I talked to Dad—”
“Yeah, well, seeing as I wasn’t invited into that little chat, I can renege on it.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Just try me.”
His mother was obviously a force to be reckoned with that morning, and Micah knew better than to test her. The homeschool jibe might not work on her like it did with his dad. His mother would most likely think that was a great idea, and Micah would be in an even worse position than he was now.
But his eye must have looked horrendous to get such a reaction out of her, and he knew his dad would fold rather than put up a fight. Best to just lie low for a while and enjoy the enforced vacation from school.
After his parents left for work, taking a grumbling Alex—“Micah always gets in trouble and gets rewarded for it!” Micah couldn’t argue with that perspective, because it certainly seemed that way sometimes—Micah took a deep breath and revelled in the peace of an empty house.
Carl texted him at recess. You won’t BELIEVE the rumours going around school about you.
Oh, I believe I could, Micah texted back.
You took on half of the footy team!
In a fight or an orgy? Micah couldn’t help grinning at the thought of Carl’s reaction.
I think you just turned me gay.
Well, Micah’s hands flew over the screen, I was suspicious about you quoting Kylie. Welcome to the dark side. We have parades.
Emma will be so proud, Carl responded.
Emma was not proud.
You are a fucking idiot, she sent to his mobile at lunchtime.
When he didn’t respond, she sent another. Don’t try and ignore me. You’re a fucking idiot.
He finally got the balls to text her back. That’s the general consensus.
I mean it, MJ.
MJ? Where did that come from? Mary Jane? Was Emma meant to be Peter Parker? Sometimes banter was so fucking exhausting.
I’m not too happy myself, he replied.
One day! One day was all you could last at not being a fuckup!
It wasn’t even twenty-four hours, but who was counting?
There was no emoji sad enough to sum up how Micah was feeling. Let’s face it, we’re surprised I lasted that long.
Oh, here we go, the self-pitying bit. You wouldn’t have to feel so sorry for yourself if you didn’t deliberately fuck up all the time.
He couldn’t be bothered fighting with her anymore. He would have switched off his mobile, except he knew his mum would panic if she tried calling him—and it was inevitable that she would do so in order to check in on him—and it went straight to voice mail. So he just ignored Emma’s texts, and there were still a few coming through, although they mainly told him to stop ignoring her and stop being such an arsehole.
Words to live by.
He concentrated on reruns of Family Feud instead.
MICAH FINALLY responded to her at eleven that night. He knew she was a night owl, so he wouldn’t be waking her up. Sorry. Could say I wasn’t checking my phone but you would know it was a lie.
It’s all right. Know I was coming on heavy.
You didn’t say anything I hadn’t already heard.
Her response was quick. Yeah, but I didn’t have to add to it. Should have been more of a friend.
You’re all right, as friends go. I mean, I have so many.
You have me and Carl.
Yay!
And your brother.
Now you’re depressing me.
Suck it up, princess.
He grinned in the dark. I’ll only let you get away with saying that.
What you gonna do? Hit me? You’re the one who gets knocked out all the time, dude.
Once!
I’m sure it won’t be the last time.
Ouch! he wrote back.
But true.
Maybe.
So so so so so so so true.
You didn’t have to have so many “so”s there, Em.
There were more, but my fingers were tired. Night, MJ.
Night, Emma.
Micah locked his phone and rolled over, staring out the window. There wasn’t much of a moon tonight, so the neighbourhood was shrouded in darkness. Micah wished for one light, just one, to be on so he knew he wasn’t alone. That there was one more person out there plagued by worry and doubt.
Maybe they were just lying in the dark too.
Chapter 5
MICAH ENDED up staying away from school for three days, and as Carl had told him, the rumours only continued to grow and become even more outlandish. Micah wanted to vomit when he heard that he was apparently fucking Coach Howard.
And if he knew Coach Howard wouldn’t be too happy about that little rumour reaching his ears, Micah was positive the coach’s wife wouldn’t be too happy about it either.
And, ugh, he would never go out with a coach. Okay, so it wasn’t a hard-and-fast rule, but generally they were too authoritarian and exhibited too much love of power.
Then he remembered Dec was starting to look at an assistant coaching position among the AFL teams, and he should make sure he never said that kind of thing around him or Simon.
His eye was almost its normal size again, and the purple had faded to a jaundiced yellow. However, judging by most of his fellow students’ reactions, the story was more important than the reality. Carl jumped in front of him, phone at the ready. “Smile!”
Micah flinched as the flash went off. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Emma wants a photo.”
“She should have tried to get it a few days ago when it really looked like something.”
“Ouch,” Carl said, inspecting the photo as if it were worthy of exhibition by the Magnum photographers. “It looked worse?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll run the pic through some filters to make it look more gross. That should make her happy.”
“As long as Emma’s happy.”
“Don’t be irate, mate.”
Micah grinned. “I won’t be glum, chum.”
“Set a trend, friend.”
“See you after class, you arse.”
“Oh, that’s nice, real nice, Micah Johnson.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Micah said before he dashed into his classroom, “I’m very nice. I’m fucking half the school football team and the coach!”
“You should probably say that a little softer next time,” Carl called after him, but it was wasted on the air left in Micah’s wake.
Micah had never been so glad for lunchtime to roll around. If he had thought he was the school pariah before, it was nothing compared to how people were talking
about him now. You’d think he was a mass murderer instead of the only gay in the village.
Except for Will, of course.
When the bell went, Micah hurriedly stuffed his books in his bag and was the first out the classroom door. He headed for one of the closest exits that led out to the courtyard when he turned the corner and ran straight into Will. Will went sprawling on the ground, his bag skidding away from him.
“Fuck,” Micah hissed. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”
Will got to his feet quickly and glared at him. “It’s not like mine’s been that great either. You haven’t been here for the past three days.”
“Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?” Unbelievable!
Hearing the oncoming wave of students eager for lunch, Will nodded towards an empty classroom.
Micah really didn’t want to be alone with the guy, but he had to admit he was burning up with curiosity.
As it turned out, so was Will.
When the door closed behind them, and the outside world was muted, Will turned on him.
“Why didn’t you tell my dad and Mrs. Hin what happened?”
“What, you wanted to be outed?” Micah asked.
Will looked horrified. “No!”
“Then there’s your answer.”
“But I don’t understand. I’ve seen the way everyone treats you here. You’re the star footy player. You should be treated like a jock god. But no one will go near you.”
“Carl will. But I’m starting to think he’s a masochist.”
“And you had your chance to not be alone, to have someone who would be in the same boat. But you didn’t do it.”
“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Micah sat down heavily upon one of those godawful plastic chairs specially made to torture students. “That’s the reason why I didn’t out you. Plus I don’t believe in outing people against their will, Will.”
He was trying to make it sound like a joke, but he just sounded flippant.
“Well, aren’t you the fucking saint of the year.”
“Look, don’t get pissy with me just because you’re scared Daddy will find out you’re queer.”
Will’s fists curled by his side.
Micah jumped up. “Come on, you want to hit me again? Won’t make anything I’ve said not true. But you can just go back to bullying people anonymously on Facebook because they’re doing what you won’t.”
But Will didn’t hurt him. He just stood there, and he didn’t blink.
Micah recognised that for what it was. If you didn’t blink, you didn’t cry. But he was also done covering up for Will and feeling sorry for him. He had enough of his own dramas to worry about.
He was still thinking that when Will leaned in and kissed him.
Confused, Micah just stood there for a moment. And found himself starting to kiss Will back.
This was the most ridiculous fucking thing to ever happen to him. Here he was, kissing the guy who had thumped him unconscious only a few days ago, and enjoying it! And to think he had signed an online petition for Chris Brown to stay away from Rihanna.
Will’s kiss was furious, but earnest and eager. Micah knew, just knew, that it was Will’s first ever kiss with a guy.
But it was so wrong. So wrong. And on so many levels.
Least of which, they could be discovered any second.
Micah broke away, and Will immediately started stammering an apology.
“This is really fucked up,” Micah told him.
“I told you, I’m sorry!”
Micah shook his head. “Not good enough. You need to figure out who you are, and not fuck up other people along the way.”
Will stared at the floor, unable to meet Will’s eyes. “I was jealous of you.”
“You also seem to have the hots for me.”
This time Will looked at him. “Not really. You’re just the only gay guy I know in real life.”
“Well, thanks, punch me out and then stab me in the heart.” Micah could not be Will’s counsellor. That had to be reserved for someone with more sense, more ability to help him, and maybe someone he hadn’t knocked out.
“I’m—”
“Sorry, yeah, I know. I mean it. Get help, Will. And just wait two minutes after I leave here. You don’t want people getting any ideas.”
His hand was already on the door when he was called back by Will saying his name.
“Are you going to tell anyone?” Will asked, his voice breaking.
Micah felt the sting of his own tears. He couldn’t take on anybody else’s feelings right then, and that meant he couldn’t take on their pain either, he just couldn’t. “No. I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”
He didn’t wait for any thanks, and he wasn’t even sure he would have gotten any. He exited the surreal world of teen angst drama that seemed so much more sexy and adult on stupid American television shows, back into the more surreal world of drama that was high school. At least that didn’t make him feel so shitty.
At least, not that much more.
THERE WAS no way he could tell anybody about what had just happened to him. He wasn’t sure if they would believe him. Hell, he wasn’t sure he believed it—it still came back to him in bits and pieces like a dream that offered no sense of tangible reality.
Plus, they would all want to certify him for kissing Will back, and being strangely hurt by Will’s admission he didn’t even like him.
“You’re Micah Johnson, aren’t you?” a voice came from behind him as he scanned B Block, looking for Carl.
“Why, do you want to punch me?” He turned around to see a slight-looking girl with large glasses that made her look like Deirdre Barlow of Coronation Street—which was required viewing for his mother. “Maybe not.”
“No, I don’t want to punch you.”
“Okay, then, yeah, I’m Micah Johnson.”
“Do a lot of people want to punch you?”
He looked at her with genuine surprise. “Are you new here?”
“Thanks, Micah, you arsehole. I’ve only sat behind you in homeroom for two months now.”
Oh crap. He was such a people person.
She punched him on the arm. “Just kidding. I only started on Monday. And I’m not even in your year.”
Oh God, the player was being played. Micah was usually the one to unsettle people. He had to admit, however, he was kind of enjoying being on the back foot for once. Although he was relieved he hadn’t inadvertently insulted her with his obliviousness, her recent arrival explained so much. “Obviously you didn’t hear what happened to me last week.”
“Well, I heard you cracked on to some guy in the change room.”
“That was months ago. And I was doing more than that.”
Her eyes widened, perhaps at his forthrightness? “Oh. I also heard you’re screwing the coach.”
Oh. She was talking about last week, not his original outing. “Now that’s a lie.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen the guy. You’d have to hope it was a rumour.”
He found himself liking her immediately. “Okay. You know me, but who are you?”
She stuck out her hand. “Mardi Sing.”
“Wow, it’s nice that someone here is speaking to me like a normal person for once in a while.”
“They don’t normally?”
“I guess no one’s told you I’m the school pariah and shouldn’t be interacted with under any circumstances.”
“Oh no, they told me that,” Mardi said.
“Oh.”
“But I never listen to that kind of bullshit. Look, can we sit down? My feet are killing me.”
They headed over to an empty table under the big eucalyptus tree in the centre of the block. Micah could see they were already getting some attention. He had only ever been seen with Carl and his reluctant friends, so to be lunching with a girl was major gossip.
Micah fumbled around in his bag for his lunch. A ham and salad roll, an Uncle Tobys muesli bar, and an orange.
So predictable. Mardi produced a funky-looking lunch box filled with a Thai noodle salad. He knew he must have been looking at it longingly. Mardi munched away, obliviously content, before deciding to speak again.
“Anyway, they told me you were the only gay in the village—”
“I bet they didn’t put it that way.”
“No, you’re right. It was much more offensive than that. They’re scared little arseholes.”
“Scared of me?”
“No. Well, some of the boys are, of course.”
“Yes, because I have a raging boner for all the guys in the school. Soon it will explode and shower them all and they will catch The Gay and life will never be the same.”
“That is a vivid imagination you have there. Sounds like a porno I watched once. Of course, it did end up in the change rooms with all the boys… being friendly.”
Micah wasn’t going to admit he had something similar illegally downloaded on his laptop at home. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. So the girls aren’t scared of me, at least?”
“What all of them are is scared of each other.”
“Huh?”
“Peer pressure. They just want to fit in and not stand out, and they know that being seen with you will work against them. It’s stupid, but it is what it is.”
“And why aren’t you?”
“I’m the new kid. I don’t really give a shit. I don’t know people’s grudges, their alliances, their histories. I just don’t care. Besides—” She paused for dramatic effect, peering over her glasses at him. “—you’re not the only gay in the village.”
Hot lava poured through Micah; he realised it was relief. “Really?”
“Just call me Ellen.”
“Hallelujah! I’m not alone!” Relief made him go for the visual cliché, pumping his arms in the air with joy.
“I also want your help setting up a gay-straight alliance. I know you’ve been doing talks at other schools. I figured you’d be interested now you won’t be a party of one.”
Micah wasn’t sure that was high on his list of priorities, especially as he would be gone in a few months, but he was so grateful to have a new friend he agreed. After all, wasn’t he meant to be thinking about other people than only himself? If a GSA was started at this bloody school, then maybe the next lot of out kids wouldn’t go through the shit he had.
