The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson (8 page)

“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.

“Good,” Mardi said. “Now, onto more pressing issues. Are you boning Carl Goldsworthy? Is he one of us?”

Micah snorted. There was so much Mardi had to learn.

Poor Carl. There he was, being suspected as Micah’s high school lover. Competing with Coach Howard, if he wanted to combine all the different rumours into one megarumour. It would be funny if it weren’t so disturbing. He bet Emma would get a kick out of it too. However, he felt loyal to Carl and didn’t want to cause him any undue embarrassment. Besides, he probably already expected it anyway—being the only guy who was unafraid of approaching Micah on a regular basis.

“No,” he told her, and then another thought occurred to him. “Wait, you’re a lesbian and you’re watching gay male porn?”

“Never said I was a lesbian,” Mardi told him. “I like to think I incorporate a wider section of the rainbow. Besides, gay porn is hot.”

He couldn’t argue with that. And although he was interested in what she meant by a “wider” section of the rainbow, the bell went off and they had to go their separate ways.

“I saw you eating with Hermione Granger,” Carl said in Human Biology when Micah dumped his bag beside him and sat down. “Am I being replaced?”

“Why didn’t you come over?”

“And destroy the rumours that you’ve turned hetero again? I couldn’t do it to you, mate.”

“Really? That’s what they’re saying now?”

“Nah, I think the one thing this school knows at least is you’re gay for life.”

“Well, the rumours of my impending heterosexuality would have been quickly shot down once they discover she’s actually starting a gay-straight alliance with me.”

“Hmm,” Carl mused. “One gay and two straights. Not really flying the rainbow flag that high.”

Micah was chuffed Carl was including himself in the group already, but amused at his assumption. “Uh, you’ll be in the minority in this one, I’m afraid.”

Carl’s eyes bulged comically. “She’s a Navratilova?”

“Something like that.”

“They were right. Once you let one gay in, they start taking over everything!”

“Yep, the fundies knew the truth. The gay agenda is coming, and we will trample all before us.”

“Just remember when the revolution comes, I was an ally.”

“Oh, silly boy,” Micah said gravely. “There are no allies in revolution.”

“Your true face has been revealed.”

Micah grinned.

“I just got a shiver,” Carl said. “Will there be food at this meeting?”

“HOW WAS
school?” Joanne asked as soon as she walked in the door.

Micah was sitting watching the telly and courteously muted it for her benefit. “Nobody died, so I guess it was okay. Better than most, at least.”

“A thrilling note of optimism. Is your dad home?”

“Yes. He’s already asked me about my day too.”

“You know, it’s a funny thing,” Joanne said, sitting across from him and kicking her heels off. “Parents like to talk to their teenagers occasionally—it saves them from having to read the newsletter.”

“Do you and Dad plan out your jokes together? He said almost the exact same thing.”

“You feeling grumpy, sweetheart?”

“No more so than usual.”

“I’ll choose to see that as a good thing.”

“If you want. Can I put the volume back up now?”

Joanne stared at the screen, a small smirk playing upon her lips. “I didn’t know you were so emotionally invested in
Family Feud
.”

“Excuse you, but I need to know the seven things one hundred Australians think are smaller than Grant Denyer. It’s a tough round.”

His mother snorted. “I just thought you might want to know what’s in this letter that came to you today.”

“I got a letter?”

“Yeah, if you or your brother ever checked the letter box like I keep asking you to, you might already know.”

“Sorry, Mum. I guess my brain injury makes me keep forgetting that.”

“You can stop milking that, you know. Anyway, I’m surprised you haven’t been checking, seeing you’ve been waiting for this letter for ages.”

“Nobody really waits for
letters
anymore. Important stuff comes via this wonderful thing called e-mail now.”

“Yes, but this organisation likes to do things by the book and old-style.”

He got that excited swirl in his belly. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She produced a large envelope with a flourish. “Why don’t we find out?”

Micah sat up, all snarking of Grant Denyer and technology forgotten, and put down the remote. “Really?”

“You don’t need to look so scared.”

But he
was
scared. This penultimate training camp meant
everything
if he wanted to make it to the draft camp in Canberra, the final step in getting signed up to an AFL team. Coaches, CEOs, and recruiters would all be in attendance, looking for the next big thing before they made their final decisions at the draft camp. He remembered Declan telling him countless times how he had been drafted straight into a team from attending the Canberra camp. He was only a few months older back then than Micah was now. This could make his career.

But almost fifteen hundred boys were nominated for the draft each year. And it would be a good year if eighty of them ended up being picked. Those were pretty long odds; especially when for all of them, it was more than likely a lifelong dream that would be crushed if they didn’t hear their name called out on draft day.

And this final training camp was the next-to-last cull. Only two hundred boys would be attending. The odds were starting to diminish a lot of teenage dreams.