Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(22)

“St. George, slaying my dragons. I’m very appreciative, believe me.”

“He’s just lucky he didn’t say faggot,” Micah ranted. “Then I really might have jumped the fence. It’s weird how I find pansy less offensive. I mean, they’re both just words.”

“Slurs,” Simon said.

“It’s lucky for you, you mean,” Dec said, ever the surrogate parent. “You wouldn’t want to be up before the tribunal for your first game. Especially fighting the public.”

“I didn’t even know who it was who said it. And I doubt they would have given themselves up if I’d tried to find out.”

“Just let your team sort it out,” Dec told him. “That’s what they’re there for.”

“They’re there to protect their own interests,” Simon said, obviously speaking from experience. “Their own reputation.”

“I don’t believe that,” Dec argued. “They care about their players too.”

Simon backed down, his eyes on his phone again. There was some sort of bone of contention between the two of them over this matter, and Micah didn’t want to feed the flames any further.

“I just want them to leave this alone,” he said to Dec. “If they make a fuss about it, the crowds could get worse. They’ll think I can’t hack it.”

Dec looked over at Simon. “Do you want to take this one?”

“Huh?” was Simon’s eloquent response.

“That was what you always wanted me to do. Take the high road.”

Simon squirmed a little. “Honestly, Micah? In the end, it really doesn’t matter what you do. If they want to hate you, they’ll find a reason for it. Either you’re a whinger, or you’re arrogant. You have to do what is best for you.”

“But it’s taken out of my hands.”

“Do you want me to talk to them?” Dec asked.

Micah could have bristled at the implication he couldn’t handle it, but he was over his head. He felt relief. “Could you?”

“I can’t promise they’ll listen to me. But I can at least give the perspectives of those who have been through the same thing.”

“I hope you’re not implying I have to go and testify,” Simon said. “I had enough of team boards when you were still playing.”

“It’s okay, babe. I’ll take one for the team.”

Simon’s lip twitched, and Micah was happy to feel the tension dissipate.

Until Simon said, “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

He shot a quick look at Dec, but handed his phone over to Micah. “It’s already on Twitter.”

Micah took the phone with slightly shaking hands. It was a professionally taken photograph, not from someone’s phone camera. The quality was too good. Obviously taken while yelling back at the guy. His arms pumped in the air, veins popping out on his neck, Micah looked like he was ready to leap the fence and take everybody out with the fire in his eyes.

“Uh, that’s not good,” Micah said, handing the phone back.

Declan tried not to sound too worried as he studied the pic. “It… could be better.”

“Believe me, I’ve been an AFL fan for a long time,” said Simon. “And there’s nothing the average footy supporter fears more than an angry minority.”

“Thanks, Simon. That’s really helpful.”

“But you fight the good fight anyway, Norma Rae.”

Micah looked at Dec for support on the reference. “I don’t get it.”

Dec shook his head. “Don’t bother.”

“I’m sure I’ve used that on you before,” Simon said.

“You do tend to repeat yourself,” Dec said, keeping things light.

Simon ignored him. “Don’t worry about all that bullshit, Micah. You played a great game, and that’s all that anybody will really care about in the end. This will blow over in a few days.”

“Like it used to with you guys?”

“Dec was more controversial. He had a boyfriend who was winning hearts and minds in the WAGs box every week. Maybe you should get one.”

“Umm, thanks, Coach,” Micah mumbled. He caught Dec biting his lip in barely concealed merriment.

“Do I slap your arse now, or something?” Simon asked.

“Do you want to slap my arse?” Micah asked.

Simon blanched. “No!”

Dec yelped as Simon quickly leaned over and slapped his partner on the arse instead.

“That stung!”

“Felt good to me.” Simon mocked him with a lascivious sneer.

Micah had to laugh, and he headed off to the pub with a considerably lighter heart and head.





Chapter 7


A FEW celebratory drinks (and then some) had made it easy to forget his worries for a couple of hours. When he awoke in the morning, they instantly came flooding back. Once he was at the kitchen table with his cereal he quickly checked the headlines on Twitter, and found there were already some mentions in the footy round-up columns. At the moment they just expressed confusion about what had happened, but Twitter had people claiming to be right near the perpetrator and that “gay slurs” were definitely thrown about. More than the one Micah had heard.