Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(24)

It was dangerous to be thinking of Kyle in the present tense in such a way.

It was at this moment Kyle looked up to see him standing in the hallway, most likely resembling a stunned mullet, and Micah was relieved to see his wide smile at the sight of him. “Hey, you.”

Joanne turned and saw her son. “I’ll leave you guys to it. You have your phone, honey?”

“Yes, Mum.” He felt all of ten years old, not someone who had been living on the opposite side of the country for a while.

“I’ll have him home before his carriage turns into a pumpkin,” Kyle promised.

Now Kyle was standing there, in the flesh before him, and they were alone. Micah suddenly felt bashful. He hung back and realised Kyle had actually grown, which was odd as it had only been two months since they had last seen each other. Or maybe he just seemed bigger.

“I don’t know whether to shake your hand or—”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kyle said, and pulled him down into his arms.

It felt so normal, so right. Micah briefly closed his eyes and let Kyle’s warmth envelop him. He could smell the cologne against his skin, although it wasn’t the same one he used to wear when they were going out. New height, new fragrance—nothing was staying the same. Except this feeling of normalcy that happened to be there now they were together again.

Maybe he held on to the embrace a little too long—it was Kyle who pulled away, gave him a small grin, and said, “Are you ready to go?”

Micah nodded, not trusting words to come out of his mouth yet.




ONCE THEY got into the car, silence settled uncomfortably. Kyle turned the ignition, and as the engine roared to life so did the stereo. Music thankfully filled the void, and the volume was loud enough to make conversation difficult. Neither boy sought to turn it down.

But after a while, as they made their way down Brunswick Street and into the Fitzroy café strip, it was painfully obvious to both of them that something had to be said or else they would be sitting across from each other with only a cup of coffee to act as a conversation point.

“I guess I should ask you how Perth is,” Kyle said, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked for an empty car space.

Unable to meet his eyes, Micah stared out onto the familiar streets of his hometown, watching the people spill out of the cafés onto the sidewalk. Although they looked just like ordinary people, they were Melburnians. They were his people. And he missed them; missed being a part of their tribe. He didn’t feel the same aura emanating from the people of Perth, even though they were friendly enough. Maybe it was just homesickness polluting his perception of them.

“Oh, it’s fine,” he lied. “I mean, it’s taking some getting used to.”

“I bet.”

“How about Canberra?”

Kyle laughed, and it didn’t sound exactly happy. “Oh, about the same. Experiencing culture shock. Sometimes it feels like the city is hardly any bigger than Fitzroy itself. And even then it still seems to have less people around.”

“But you’re surviving?”

Kyle let out a triumphant whoop; up ahead, someone was pulling out of a parallel parking space. He flipped on his indicator to make sure everybody know it was their spot, and theirs alone. He shot a glance at Micah. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“You don’t sound a hundred percent certain.”

“Neither do you.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

A look of concern crossed Kyle’s face, but at that moment a car horn sounded and he realised the spot was now empty and he was holding up traffic. Micah bit his tongue and wished he had never given voice to what he thought. It made him feel weak, and that was the last thing he wanted to seem in front of Kyle.

Kyle steered the car into place with ease, and left the engine running to safeguard against the heat outside.

“You’re not?” he finally asked.

Even though they had only gone out for a short time (far shorter than either of them had wanted it to be), Micah felt more relaxed around Kyle than anybody else other than his family, and Dec (and he guessed, Simon, after they had gotten to know each other more). So it was easy to open up to Kyle, even if he had lied to him only minutes before. “I know it should get better, at least eventually, but I’m so fucking lonely at the moment. I don’t really know anybody except my host family, and the youngest brother there hates me….”

He trailed off. He hated that Kyle was looking at him with pity.

“I get it,” Kyle nodded. “I was there myself.”

“Was?”

“It is getting better now. And it will for you too. You’re forgetting I know you, and you find it difficult to get along with people at the best of times. But that’s because you close yourself off. And you’re probably doing that in Perth.”

Kyle didn’t even know the half of it. What would he think if he found out the only way Micah could feel close to someone was if he was fucking them? And even then, it only lasted as long as the sex actually did. Micah tried to get out the door before the condom was even disposed of. Kyle would probably tell him he wasn’t judging him, but he would be. Micah knew what he was doing; it was clichéd textbook psychology. Freud would have sent him on his way, saying his diagnosis was too mundane to deal with.