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The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson

Page 11

by Sean Kennedy


  “Really?”

  “Really,” Micah said, firmly. “I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”

  “And you’re thankful for that? Because it seems like you don’t even want to be here.”

  “I do want to be here. I’ve just had… a rough year.” Micah didn’t want to get lost in those thoughts again.

  “Well, join the club.”

  “You don’t seem to like it here. Is the money that good?”

  “Let’s just say it helps. The baseball players of Australia don’t get feted like footy players. There’s not millions of dollars being paid into drafting camps for us. I have to pay my own way, and for that I need to be here. It’s not handed to me on a plate.”

  Micah thought he sounded bitter, but could he be blamed for that? Micah was here, with his training being paid for, and he was whinging about it. For fuck’s sake, he sucked. “Okay, I get it. We both feel sorry for ourselves and think the other one isn’t showing enough sympathy.”

  This brought out the first smile on Kyle’s face. “I guess so.” He dropped his voice and leant in conspiratorially. “So, Declan Tyler really is all that?”

  “He is. I swear.”

  “He’s hot,” Kyle admitted. “Too bad he’s taken.”

  “Being hot is just one of his many good qualities. And his partner is a good guy as well, once you get past the exterior he likes to put on.”

  “So he’s like you, then?”

  Micah flushed in the dark, glad Kyle couldn’t see. He changed the subject quickly. “So you think Dec’s hot, even though he’s an arrogant football player?”

  “Unfortunately good looks cover a multitude of sins. You’re an arrogant footy boy.” Kyle paused, and an air of expectation fell between them. “But I still think you’re cute.”

  And he fled before Micah could say anything.

  But Micah was unable to wipe the dorky smile off his face as he had a quick shower to finally wash away the grime of the day and make his way to the dorm room for bed. Okay, so maybe things were still frosty with Dec, and Boyd was still a major problem, but the camp was looking slightly better than it had an hour before.

  When he got back to his room, the lights were out and snores let him know everybody seemed to be asleep. He could thankfully slip beneath the sheets without having to deal with Boyd, and think back over how he wished he had grabbed the opportunity to try to kiss Kyle, before he finally drifted off as well and his snores joined the cacophony in the tiny room.

  Chapter 10

  IT WAS amusing to watch the guys wake up in the morning and try to manoeuvre around without exposing their woodies to everyone else. Micah was uncomfortably aware of his own, which was straining due to excessive fantasies of Kyle revolving through his head. He pretended to be dozing until everybody else left the room and then got together his stuff for the shower. That would also give his main adversaries time to stop being naked before Micah showed up and caused them to lose their shit.

  As a result, Micah almost had the bathroom completely to himself—not that the other boys should have worried, as there were separate shower cubicles with doors on them and everything. Although they probably would have thought Micah capable of using his superpowers of homosexuality to crawl upside down along the ceiling and watch them fondle their bits from above.

  There were only a few stragglers in the breakfast queue when he arrived, still half wet. Micah could see Dec sitting at the coaches’ table and quickly looked away. He wanted to talk to Dec and apologise when there was less of an audience.

  He shoved some Weet-Bix in a bowl and splashed milk on it, grabbed a banana and a piece of toast as well. As he was about to leave, Kyle appeared behind him.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning,” Micah said. “I meant to ask you, where are you sleeping?”

  “You interested?” Kyle asked, with a flirty grin.

  “I’m not that kind of boy.”

  “The rumours are very disappointing, then. Just as well. There’s a dragon guarding the entrance to my room.”

  “Your dad?”

  “You catch on.” Kyle looked over the piles of food set out on the table. “Ugh.”

  “There’s not much choice.”

  “No.”

  “And poor you, having to share a room with your dad.”

  “It’s not too bad.”

  “Seriously?”

  “He sleeps like the dead.”

  “So”—Micah couldn’t believe he was actually suggesting this—“you could maybe sneak out?”

  “Why?” Kyle asked, unable to hide the huge grin that quickly crept across his features. “You have a plan?”

  “Not yet.”

  Micah was suddenly jostled aside by Boyd. “Watch it!”

  Boyd ignored him. “Oh, hey, Kylie!”

  “Boyd,” Kyle said as if Boyd hadn’t just insulted him.

  “Is that your private nickname?” Micah asked, pointedly.

  “Just a joke between friends,” Boyd said. He pretended to be scrutinising the table for a second helping.

  “Didn’t sound too friendly,” Micah said.

  “Ignore him,” Kyle said. He pulled Micah off to an empty table while Boyd remained with the food.

  “I’m fucking sick of him,” Micah grunted, throwing down his tray. The milk slopped out of his bowl.

  “Well, at least you only have to put up with him for three days. He’s in my life permanently, remember?” Kyle said, sliding onto a chair.

  Micah had to concede the point. “You should have seen him practically crawling around on his stomach this morning so I wouldn’t see his boner through his undies.”

  “You wouldn’t have been able to contain yourself, would you?”

  “Oh no, it would have turned into a porn film orgy. Cocks aplenty!”

  Kyle screwed up his nose. “Gross. But you’ll survive Boyd in the end. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

  “Not if it means shutting up every time he gets to mouth off.”

  “You have to pick your battles. Sometimes it’s just not worth it.”

  Micah remembered Dec saying the very same thing to him once. And he had a good feeling about Kyle, just like he had with Dec and—eventually—Simon and Emma. These were people he could trust, and their judgement had to be good for something. “And how do I know when it’s worth it?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “You just told me not to!”

  Kyle stared down at his plate. “Oh. I guess I just did.”

  “Some fucking Yoda you are.”

  “Well, Yoda didn’t always give the best advice and was pretty clueless sometimes, so I guess I am pretty Yoda-ish.”

  “To be fair, he was pretty iffy about Anakin from the very beginning. It was Qui-Gon who believed in him and suffered for it.” Micah gave up on his Weet-Bix and reached for his banana.

  “Yeah, you just lost me. I haven’t seen the prequels since they were first released.”

  “Oh, you’re one of those.”

  “I have older siblings. They pretty much drummed it into me that the sequels sucked.”

  “They’re not that bad,” Micah said, although his heart really wasn’t in the argument.

  “*NSYNC were in them.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one. But they get killed almost immediately, don’t they?”

  “Isn’t that just an urban legend based on wishful thinking?” Kyle asked.

  “I think it’s true. Although they were only background extras. Who may or may not have been cut.”

  “Cut in half, hopefully.”

  “Not a boy band fan, then?” Micah asked.

  “Not really, but I’d do that Louis from One Direction.”

  “And you’re giving me grief about the Star Wars prequels?”

  Kyle laughed. “Touché.”

  “Which one’s Louis?”

  “The one who doesn’t really seem to do much.”

  Micah searche
d his memory banks, eliminating the Irish blond and the non-Irish blond. “Oh yeah, I’d do him too.”

  “I’m sure he’d be chuffed.”

  Micah threw his banana skin at him. Kyle ducked, and it landed on the tray of Jack, who had just come to join them.

  “Any room for a member of the heterosexual persuasion?” he asked.

  “Sure, we don’t discriminate,” Kyle said, pushing out a chair with his foot.

  “Good, because I don’t know where else I could have gone.”

  The three boys continued to talk, and Micah finally began to feel a little bit more relaxed. He even caught Dec’s eye at one point, and he nodded casually at him. Dec nodded back, so at least that was something.

  WHEN KYLE had left them to get equipment set up on the oval, Jack waited a few seconds before leaning in conspiratorially. “So, you’re getting pretty hot and heavy with Kyle, huh?”

  “What? No way!” Micah thought that was only half a lie. Things hadn’t gotten hot and heavy yet, but there was a definite feeling that it could. “If by hot and heavy you mean talking about Star Wars and One Direction, then I guess so, by that definition.”

  “One Direction? Seriously?”

  “Don’t knock it. You probably like Taylor Swift.”

  “I do. But don’t the gays, as well?”

  “Damn it, I thought maybe you wouldn’t know that.”

  “So you don’t like him, then?”

  “As a friend.”

  Jack didn’t seem to believe him. “Just remember who his dad is.”

  “As if I could forget.”

  “I mean it. Do you want to get on Coach Marks’s off side by screwing his son?”

  “Who said anything about screwing?” Micah asked. “Gay guys just don’t jump into bed with each other straightaway, you know. Why is it straight guys are more obsessed with gay sex than gay guys are?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I meant screwing in the figurative sense. You already have… issues… with some of the people here. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

  “Could it get any worse?”

  “You wanna put that to the test?” Jack pushed his tray away from him. “You don’t listen to anything, do you?”

  “I do, sometimes. What, do you really think Marks is going to get all ‘stay away from my son!’ teenage movie-ish on me?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. And then you’ll help him build a church and show him the real you, and then either you or Kyle will get cancer or die.” At Micah’s look, Carl flushed. “What, Soraya likes all those crappy movies, and I have to watch them, okay?”

  “So are you going to help her dad build a mosque?”

  “Fuck off.”

  But it was a lighthearted jibe, and both boys took it in that spirit.

  Declan seemed to have deliberately hung back after breakfast so he and Micah could talk. But he made Micah come to him, which Micah did with the appropriate hang-dog expression.

  “If it isn’t the People’s Most Oppressed,” Dec said. “Good morning, Micah.”

  “Morning, Dec.”

  “Good night’s sleep?”

  “It was fine.”

  “Any trouble?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear at least. Are you going to take a seat?”

  Micah did so and sat forward, trying with great difficulty to match Dec’s steady gaze. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Everything’s fine, then!”

  “Have you been taking snarky lessons from Simon or something?” Micah asked before he could stop himself.

  The mention of his partner’s name brought a brief smile to Dec’s lips. “If it’s not him, it’s you. Must I forever be surrounded by snarky people?”

  “I am really, really sorry.” Micah had meant it before, but now he really, really meant it.

  “I know,” Dec said. “I saw the panic in your eye yesterday. Even you knew you went too far.”

  “I just get so mad.”

  “Well, you have to stop Hulking out. Your biggest weakness is teamwork, Micah. You think of yourself first. Now, I know from speaking to your other coaches that you never used to have a problem with that. It’s only been in the past six months or so. And I think we all know the reason why that changed.”

  “I changed,” Micah said morosely.

  “No.” Dec shook his head emphatically. “You never changed. You just let more of yourself out.”

  “In more ways than one.”

  “Granted, not the best way. But what we have to work upon is getting you to feel like you’re part of a team again instead of feeling you’re by yourself and taking on the whole world.”

  “It’s not easy to do when they won’t let me be part of the team.”

  “You are part of the team. At the moment it’s begrudging, but part of that is also down to you. You’re expecting them to hate you, so you go out of your way to antagonise them and make them hate you.”

  “Might as well beat them to the punch.”

  “Nope.” Dec shook his head emphatically. He was beginning to look frustrated again. “That’s what has to change, Micah. It may not be fair. They should greet you with open arms and acceptance from the very beginning. That would be fair. But it’s not. Unfortunately you have to work at making them accept you.”

  “Being part of the circle of acceptance.”

  “Huh?” Declan asked.

  “Simon said you made things easier for me, so I have to make things easier for the next kid to come along.”

  “Simon is very sensible when he wants to be.”

  “Well, he’s right this time,” Micah said.

  “He is. He’s right far more times than you think. It’s just that sometimes he gets to it in the most complicated ways.”

  “So you’re saying I have to suck it up, as per usual?”

  “As per usual,” Dec repeated.

  “Great pep talk,” Micah said.

  “I hate giving it,” Dec sighed. “But it’s true.”

  “Is it true what they say—it gets easier?”

  Dec frowned and thought hard for a moment. “In some ways, but that doesn’t mean life stops throwing complications your way.”

  “Now I’m even more depressed.”

  “Well, this might cheer you up.” Dec reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed Micah an envelope, slightly crumpled from being jammed in there for a couple of days. “Emma wanted me to give you this.”

  “Really?” Micah inspected it. It was Emma’s handwriting, all right.

  “Yeah, has your name on it and everything.”

  Dec sounded a little short and tired. Micah felt a pang of remorse at how much grief he usually caused the guy who was the only role model he had in life.

  “Can you give me any tips on how to deal with Boyd Davies?”

  “There’s always going to be a Boyd Davies.” Dec sounded a little bitter, or at least as bitter as Declan Tyler could get. Micah knew he must have had a few Boyd Davieses of his own to deal with. “He might just have different names and different faces. But there will always be someone you can’t win over. Doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight. Some people just don’t like you for some reason. All I can tell you is don’t arc up when they annoy you, because they like it. That’s what they want you to do. They get far more enjoyment out of needling you than you ever will getting revenge on them.”

  “It’s just fucking hard.”

  “You know what? You’ve got to try and have fun while you’re here. This is an amazing opportunity for you to do something you love, and if you don’t enjoy it, there’s no use doing it.”

  “I love playing football. It’s everything else that goes with it.”

  “If all goes well, people will be fighting over the chance to have you on their team. But you have to work at it too. It can’t all be on them. And if you get drafted, everything will change. You’ll soon learn that being on a professional team is nothing like high school.�


  “I know.” Micah turned his attention to the envelope. “Anyway, I didn’t know Emma could be so old school. She could have just sent a text.” He slid his thumb underneath the back flap, and the gum gave way easily. He pulled out a card obviously designed for a one-year-old: a fairy in a pink dress with wings that Micah knew couldn’t possibly have supported her weight because they were so small. Her wand drew a large rainbow in the sky, and she declared, “You’re 1 today!” In the speech balloon, Emma had scribbled an 8 so it now read “You’re 18 today!” He grinned in spite of himself and showed it to Declan.

  “It’s not your birthday for another two months,” Dec said.

  “I know. She must have fucked up.”

  “That’s not like Emma.”

  It definitely wasn’t. Micah opened the card when Dec handed it back to him, and written in Emma’s sprawling hand was:

  Hey sucker. Yes, I know it’s not your birthday, but it’s the first day of the rest of your life, or something like that. But I couldn’t fit it all on the front, so I just did the 8 instead. To make up for this appalling lack of foresight, I declare a meet up tomorrow night. You probably still won’t have any friends by then, and most likely will have amassed a camp full of enemies, so you’ll appreciate me all the more if I drive out with some food, a picnic rug, and a bottle of Passion Pop. Meet me just down from the gates at 10 pm. I’ll be the ravishing redhead in the Datsun 180.

  Three small x’s signified her kiss, and Micah felt an overwhelming affection for her.

  “A smile!” Dec proclaimed. “Miracles do happen.”

  For fuck’s sake, Micah thought. He must come across like the most morose person on the face of the planet.

  At that, Jack reentered the room and yelled out to Micah. “We’re going to miss the bus, dipshit!”

  “It looks like you’ve made a friend at least,” Dec said, as Jack continued to wave at them.

  “He still probably wishes he had anybody else as a seatmate rather than the most unpopular kid in the camp.”

  “Be grateful for what you get.”

  “I will,” Micah said, and he meant it.

  Chapter 11

 

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