The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson (19 page)

But none of them had noticed Boyd coming up behind them, and how he was waiting with his hands stretched in the air.

Micah’s heart sank. He knew it was still beating; the blood was pounding in his ears.

It was as if everything Dec had told him to do was being set up by a vengeful god.

The old Micah would have pushed on regardless and gone for the goal.

The new Micah? Well, the really, really,
really
recently new and only slightly somewhat improved Micah knew what he had to do.

The other team weren’t expecting him to pass the ball on. Micah bounced the ball one last time and punted it perfectly—it hit the right spot on his toes with a satisfying thump—and watched as the Sherrin sailed over their heads and directly into Boyd’s arms.

As he caught it, Boyd looked just as surprised as the other boys. It would have almost been just as good to watch him fumble it and lose it in shock, but that wouldn’t have been good team camaraderie. No, Boyd caught it with a sure hand, and without even pausing to give the opposing players a chance to take him down, he swivelled on one foot and delivered it through the centre goals with a low punt.

It was just a scratch match, but you would have thought it was a grand final as Boyd’s team erupted. Seconds later an air horn blew to signify the end of the game. The other team looked shattered. Even though they knew it was just a scratch match, it was a game where recruiters were scrutinising their every move. It could count against them.

Micah didn’t know if he was still being watched, but he made a calculated move. He walked towards Boyd, his arm outstretched. Boyd glared at him, knowing it was a show, but it wasn’t one he could afford to refuse to be a part of. The two boys shook hands, though not a word was said, and they separated almost as soon as they touched each other.

But the gesture had been made. And Micah hoped it had been noticed.

“YOU DID
it,” Dec said, his palm ready so Micah could slap it.

“I told you.” The slap was heavy, and Micah’s palm tingled. However, his whole body was tingling because he knew he had finally done the right thing. Maybe his pride was a little bit dented because he didn’t get to deliver a brilliant game-finishing goal, but his delivery to Boyd might just count more for him in the long run.

“Maybe you
did
have an epiphany.”

“Something like that.”

Dec grinned. “Nice little performance after the siren too.”

Micah laughed unabashedly. “Oh, you saw? I hope they all did.”

“They did. I’ve already heard them talking about it.”

Relief made Micah weak at the knees.

“They knew it was bullshit,” Dec continued, “but the gesture was seen for what it was. And they all like grand gestures, even if they’re not meant.”

“As long as it stands me in good favour, should I really give a shit?”

“That’s the spirit.” Dec couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh. “Go on. Celebrate with your team, and hit the showers.”

“Eww, not that kind of celebration. Me and change rooms and post-match celebrations aren’t a good mix.”

Dec sighed. “I see some things haven’t changed with your epiphany.”

“Wouldn’t you be disappointed if I was entirely good?”

“Not really, no. It would be peaceful.”

“You say that, but you’d miss it.”

“Just go, Micah.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Before he turned away, he saw Dec smile, chuffed at the nickname.

HE HAD
time for a quick chat with Jack, who was in awe of the pass to Boyd and all it entailed for a possible turnaround in Micah’s attitude, before Kyle came up to join them.

“There’s talk about the two of you.”

“Really?”

“Both of us?” Jack asked, skeptical.

“Yep. They’re saying you showed loyalty and perseverance, Jack, because they knew at the start nobody was handing Micah the ball.”

Jack seemed a little deflated. “Loyalty and perseverance, sure. But nothing about my skills.”

“You’d be surprised how far it goes when they’re making their decisions,” Kyle said.

“No offence, but how do you know?”

“Are you forgetting who my dad is? I’ve grown up as an insider around all this shit. Plus, I was eavesdropping. Recruiters forget to keep shtum around the lackeys who are picking up the equipment after the gods of the field have vacated the premises.”

Jack still didn’t look like he believed him but nodded. “Thanks. I’m going to take a shower.”

Micah waited until he left, then said, “That was nice, what you said about him.”

“It’s true. I did hear them say that.”

“Does it really count?”

Kyle shrugged. “Sometimes they’d rather take on someone who is less developed but has the right attitude. They’re just as important. But in the end, numbers will probably count against him.”

Micah watched Jack walking towards the buildings. Maybe Jack had been right about himself all along. Not every good player had the skills exceptional enough to get him drafted. He felt something akin to heartburn as he watched his new friend disappear.

“Don’t you want to know if they said anything about you?” Kyle asked, breaking his train of thought.

“I guess. Okay, sure. Did they?”

Kyle laughed and actually reached out to push him back a little. Micah couldn’t help but thrill at the contact. “Look at you! Here I was thinking you’d progressed beyond the
me me me
stage.”

“Us arsehole egotistical football players never do.”

“You got that right.”

Micah wanted nothing more to grab him and kiss him, right there, in front of all of the stragglers. It was a maddening thought. It made him lose focus. Especially seeing he had told the guy he wanted him only as a friend. He believed that was called being a tease if he wanted to slut shame. If he was being generous with himself, and he wanted to be on behalf of all “teases” out there, he was just really fucking confused.

Kyle seemed unaware of his inner turmoil. “They’ve been saying it’s like something has switched on inside you.”

They have no idea.
“That makes me sound like I’m possessed.”

“Maybe they think that’s a more likely option than you turning over a leaf.”

“But is it a good spirit or a demon?”

“Well, they like the change, so I’d say good spirit.”

Micah didn’t want to let himself believe it, in case it led to crushing misery later on. “Do you think it’s too little, too late?”

“What do I know? I’m not one of them. All I know is that they’re hoping it will stick.”

Changing tack, Micah focused on Kyle. “I hope they never catch you eavesdropping, or else you might not have a job next year.”

“My plan is to not be here next year. I’ll be on a baseball team, or studying at the AIS.”

“The Institute of Sport? In Canberra?”

“Yeah.”

Canberra was a long way from Melbourne. Even if Micah stayed in Melbourne after the draft.

“Besides,” Kyle continued, “all I do here is shit like picking up witches’ hats and putting them away. Any trained monkey could do it just as well. Also being one of the coaches’ kids comes with an expected trustworthy element. I’m invisible to them.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“Why do you think? Because I see you’re trying. Maybe you should have tried earlier, but that’s not worth arguing about now. But you’re going to have to do more.”

“If I get through to the proper draft camp, you mean.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. They know you’re a good player. You rank highly on that alone. But if you want to be secure in your chances for being drafted, you have to keep working on the rest.”

“Are you sure you want to stick to baseball? Sounds like you could be a recruiter!”

“Do you think you could ever give up football?”

“No,” Micah said without pause.

“Well, dickhead, that’s how I feel about baseball. It’s impossible to think about anything else.”

“I’d still like to see you in those tight pants.”

“Oh God, Micah, go have a shower. You smell cheesy.” But Kyle grinned.

Micah obeyed the order, his heart feeling far lighter than it had before. He had patched things up with Dec, and things were looking more positive with the recruiters. One last night to get through, and he was home free.

And the night promised to be a little more exciting than listening to Boyd snoring.

DINNER WAS
raced through; speeches were made and largely ignored. Everyone knew camp was winding down. The boys didn’t have anyone to impress anymore, as the recruiters were gone. However, that didn’t mean they could completely slack off, as the coaches were still watching them keenly.

There was even dessert. Micah wolfed his down, feeling cream and sugar and saturated fat doing far more for his body’s endorphins than any drug ever could.

Games were held in the rec room and mock prizes given. There was much laughing when Declan Tyler presented Micah with “Most Improved Attitude,” and not all of it was mocking either. Micah felt he could come away from camp having clawed back a little bit of respect from his peers. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that much, but it was more than they had at the start. At least most of them had seen he had skill rather than just relying upon reputation and rumour, and like Dec had said, when they were out in the real world playing professionally, most of them would have to realise they couldn’t act like kids anymore.

What time is lights out?
came a text from Emma.

Ten
, he replied.

Okay. Meet us at the gates at 10:30.

Us? It sounded like she had achieved her mission, then.

Jack didn’t seem that excited when Micah told him the shenanigans were still on for the night. “I’m actually pretty tired. Maybe I won’t go.”

“You’re coming anyway. Jesus, you can sleep through the bus ride the whole way home and then again in your own bed. Live a little.”

“But it’s just going to be your friend, and Kyle, I guess, right? Exciting for you, not so exciting for me.”

“Emma will probably want to talk to you more, anyway. She knows enough about me. You’ll get enough attention.”

“More like you just want me to give her attention so you don’t feel so guilty when you sneak away to pash Kyle in the woods.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, we’re just friends!”

Jack scoffed. “Friends who want to pash each other, and probably more.”

At least he wasn’t saying he wouldn’t come anymore. However, he was snoring just as loud as Boyd when Micah checked his phone and saw it was already past their rendezvous time. He slid out of bed and pulled on his sneakers, then shook Jack awake.

“Wha—?” Jack snorted and relaxed when he saw it was Micah. “Did I fall asleep?”

Micah placed his finger over his lips. Seriously, it was like trying to sneak out an elephant. Every move Jack made, Micah was sure the rest of the boys in the room would spring awake at the noise created. Finally, however, they were outside and heading down the long driveway leading to the main road.

“Can’t see anyone,” Jack grumped.

“Probably because it’s dark?” Micah activated the torch on his phone. Instantly, one other little rectangular screen glowed farther along the road.

“Where were we without phones?” Jack said appreciatively.

“I dunno, using torches?” Micah replied.

“How ancient.”

Emma was leaning against her car. “Hello, boys,” she drawled.

Micah could see Jack perking up slightly.

“She’s a lesbian, remember?” Micah reminded him.

“Yes, that I am,” Emma said gravely. “But I do have a surprise for you, Jack.”

“Strippers?” Jack asked, and Micah was reminded of just how much of a hopeless straight boy he really was.

But when Soraya stepped out of Emma’s car, Jack’s cheeky expression melted away, and Micah was gratified to see the pure look of besotted love replace it. Jack raced over to Soraya, and they hugged and kissed exuberantly below the moonlight.

“Ain’t heterosexual love
cute
,” Emma said.

“It’s almost like they’re normal people,” Micah agreed.

IF MICAH
had been expecting Soraya to be coldly disapproving of him and Jack’s other new “friends,” he would have been bitterly disappointed. It hadn’t occurred to him that Soraya might be a bucker of conventions herself, dating a white non-Muslim boy against her parents’ wishes, even if they had grown to love Jack.

“This is going to sound awfully nonpolitically correct of me—” she started, after they made themselves some makeshift seats from dead wood and brush and were seated in a circle together.

“Oh, here we go,” Micah said, preparing himself. Even though he was blinded by Soraya’s smile.

“—but I was rolling my eyes at the thought of Jack having another new football buddy. I mean, no offence, but a lot of you at the moment are just boys pretending to be men, right?”

Micah didn’t know what to say. But Emma was already grinning, and Micah could tell they had probably already shared doozies of conversations in their short time together on the drive up.

“Soraya!” Jack protested, but that was the limit of his protestations.

Soraya gave a small laugh and adjusted her hijab, as it had slipped slightly. “What I mean to say is that they’re boofheads!”

“She’s not wrong there,” Emma murmured.

“Emma!” Micah said, but his protest was just as lengthy as Jack’s.

She shrugged. “But when I heard you were gay, I thought, well, he can’t be like the rest of them.”

“Excuse me,” Micah said, “but we haven’t been fighting for equality for decades—”

“We?” Emma interrupted him. “I’ve never seen you on the barricades.”

Micah ignored her. “—to then be put on pedestals. Some of us are just as boofheady and as unlikable as our heterosexual counterparts—”

“And Micah here is the prime example,” Emma finished for him.

“She’s got you there,” Jack said admiringly.

“Yes, thank you, Emma,” Micah said.