Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(36)

“Want to stay a bit longer?” he asked.

Micah shook his head. “Sorry. Got things to do.”

“But you could be doing things here.”

“Yeah, but it’s not those kind of things I need to be doing.”

“Do you want to see each other again?” Todd, or Tom, asked.

“Sure. I’ll see you around on the app.”

Micah, of course, was lying. The guy would be deleted as soon as he next activated it.

When he got back in his car, the self-recriminations began. More so, this time. Generally he just felt seedy for hooking up anonymously, even though it briefly fulfilled his need for a human touch. But two guys in less than twenty-four hours? And all while Will Deanes, a kid not unlike himself, was thinking his life was over as he knew it?

And how did Micah react? He went out to fuck somebody. Oh, he could pretty it up by saying it was because he needed solace, to lie in someone’s arms, but Tom or Todd had been happy to cuddle afterwards and Micah had brutally rebuffed him.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

His phone rang again, and Micah answered it this time. He told Sam he’d needed to go for a run to clear his head, and once again Sam readily accepted and believed it. After all, he had no reason to suspect Micah was lying to him. Dane probably would have known, though, or so Micah thought he did. That was another conversation waiting to be had.

Meanwhile Sam had been doing exactly what he said he would. Micah would miss a couple of nights training and leave for Melbourne on Wednesday.

Everyone did their best for him, and he was floundering. Even worse than he was last year.

Micah started the car, and refused to think about it for at least the next hour.




BUT ONCE he got back home and showered, he remembered that Dec had also tried to get hold of him and would probably want to make sure he was okay. As if Dec didn’t have enough people in his life to worry about. Micah fired up his laptop and activated FaceTime.

Declan appeared on the screen, and Micah’s breath caught in his throat when he observed how shattered he looked.

“You heard,” Dec said, without preamble.

“Emma told me.”

“Of course.”

“Her network, you know? She’s not even in Melbourne and she probably knew before the ambulance service did.”

He wanted to see Dec crack a smile, even if it was false. But Dec barely registered what he said. He rubbed at his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Micah asked.

“Not really.” And that was when Dec smiled, a false grin meant to put Micah at ease by undercutting what he was saying, but it was unsuccessful. “I guess I just didn’t think when I started GetOut that these kinds of things could happen. Not to kids in the program. And I was meant to be at that game. To show Will some support. But I didn’t make it in the end. Too much work I thought I had to catch up on.”

“It’s not your fault,” Micah said, unable to believe that Dec was blaming himself for weather and the state of the roads. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

Arms wrapped around Dec from behind, and Simon bent into frame. “Hi, Micah.”

“Hey, Simon.”

Simon nuzzled into Dec’s neck and kissed it tenderly. Dec closed his eyes for a moment, but they flew open when his phone began ringing. He looked down at it and said, “I’ve got to take this.”

“Let me talk to Micah,” Simon said. As Dec got up, Simon squeezed his arm, saying a million things wordlessly in that touch. Micah thought how much more something like that would have meant to him, had it been available, rather than some guilt-causing sex with Tom or Todd.

Simon sat down and stared back at him. “How are things with you?”

“Fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing to worry about, do I? Unlike Will.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty to worry about,” Simon said. “Unfortunately, the world doesn’t stop for everyone else when something bad happens to another person.”

“No, I guess not.”

“So, tell me, then, how are you?”

But Micah ignored the gentle probe, and asked, “You and Dec have probably already been to see Will, yeah?”

Simon nodded.

“And?”

Simon scratched at his arm, uncomfortable.

“Simon!”

He looked up. “Sorry. It was… hard. Seeing him like that. He’s all trussed up in something like a sling, although a really high tech sling. And he has all these tubes in him still from the operation.”

Micah winced.

“Plus, it’s not the only operation he’ll have. It’s going to be a long recovery in hospital, and an even longer rehabilitation.”

“When will they know if he can walk again?”

“They can’t tell just yet. Probably once he starts trying rehab. And who knows, even then. The swelling will take a while to go down, to begin with.”

Micah sniffed, holding back his tears. This was not right. The boy Micah had known should not be in hospital wondering if he would be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He was plagued by thoughts of Will as he had known him on the field; knowing everything he knew about him now, Micah guessed it was truly the only time he felt happy. And Micah could relate. When he had been in the same dark place, football had been his refuge. “And his dad really wasn’t there?”