The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson (14 page)

“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 searched 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.

A MARATHON
across the beach and sprints up and down sand dunes had Micah actually looking forward to the interviews scheduled with the AFL recruiters that he had to endure after lunch, even though they had been what he was dreading the most.

And there were over ten of them. Sure, there could have been more as there were more football teams than that, but Micah had his whole set of ten slots filled up—unlike some of the other guys—and knew he should be thankful there was that much interest in him.

Most of the questions were the same, time and time again, and Micah grew more comfortable answering them the more he had to do it.

What was perhaps more troubling was that Dec had told him about his attitude being noticed, and it came up in each and every interview. The question caught him off guard at first, but by the third time he was asked it—even though it slightly changed wording every time—he could rattle off a somewhat decent answer.

Of course, they never made it about the “gay thing,” but Micah decided to attack it head-on.

“I know that I haven’t exactly got a sterling reputation right now, but it’s something I’m working on” was the general gist he fed them. “Declan Tyler has been mentoring me, and I think it’s safe to say that, despite some very, very tiny hiccups, he was well-known for his calm and levelheadedness on the field. He has mentioned that teamwork is an issue I have to work upon, but I know the reasons behind those issues.”

“And what are those issues?” was usually the response.

“At the moment I feel isolated from any team I’m on. I know part of it is because I feel alone in being the only out gay person on the team. But it also has a lot to do with the reactions of my team members.”

“What makes you think it will be any different if you start playing professionally?”

“It will be different because of that, precisely. At the moment I’m stuck in teenage boy high school world. There is so much shit that goes on with that. There will be a real cultural and social shock when we move beyond that. We’re expected to behave like adults once we’re on a professional team. We’re
paid
to behave like adults. Behaviour will change.”

Micah was proud of himself for how he approached their questions, although he did lose his cool in one instance with a certain coach who had recently had “issues” with his team and their off-field antics, especially when it came to imbibing illicit substances.

“Do you think you’ll be a benefit or a hindrance to our team?”

“Let’s face it, I couldn’t do any more damage.”

If looks could kill, Micah would never have gotten back out of his chair. And he doubted he was going to be drafted by them, either. Not that it mattered much to Micah, as they were on the other side of the country, but still, what if they were the only team seriously considering him?