Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(4)

MICAH: Yeah, thanks for bringing that up. I’d rather not talk about that.

JASPER: No new guy on the horizon?

MICAH: Nope. Next question.

JASPER: Okay. Obviously a sore area. No pun intended!

MICAH: Oh, grow up, Jasper.

JASPER: Just kidding. The readers obviously can’t see just how much you’re glaring at me at the moment.

MICAH: If looks could kill.

JASPER: Yes, it’s very reminiscent of someone I know. Which reminds me, are you still in contact with Declan Tyler?

MICAH: Of course I am, as you well know. He and his partner, Simon, are very good friends and they always check in with me. Dec switched teams— JASPER: Switched teams, ha! Declan Tyler never switched teams, apparently.

MICAH: Hilarious, Jasper. But Dec had to move from Melbourne to Tasmania only a couple of years into his playing career, so he’s given me lots of good advice about how to cope.

JASPER: But he was a little bit older than you are now. Plus he’d already been playing professionally, so he’d had more experience under his belt.

MICAH: True, but I’m being looked after by the Mitchells. The Dockers made sure they gave me a good family to live with, and they’re keeping me in line.

JASPER: You, being kept in line? Is this a totally different Micah Johnson, then?

MICAH: A little wiser, maybe. A little more prone to listening to people other than myself.

JASPER: Sounds dreadful.

MICAH: It is, a little bit. I just don’t know what to do with myself.

JASPER: And how does it feel to be the first out, at least from the beginning of your career, AFL player?

MICAH: Pretty strange, actually.

JASPER: How?

MICAH: I mean, I should say, that it’s all good. The coach and the team are very proactive about tackling homophobia on the field and out in public. But I feel like they’re trying to set me up as a role model, which I don’t think I’m the best example for. I mean, if you want a great AFL role model, who happens to be gay, you go to Declan Tyler. Not me.

JASPER: I think you’re underselling yourself, there.

MICAH: No. I honestly don’t. Declan is a born leader, and a natural role model. I tend to screw up a lot and make a shitload of mistakes.

JASPER: Surely that makes you a more human role model?

MICAH: Are you saying Declan Tyler isn’t human?

JASPER: No, I know from experience he is.

MICAH: I should think so after that book you wrote [redacted—Ed.].

JASPER: Moving on.

MICAH: Probably for the best.



We here at Reach Out think he’s being a bit hard on himself. It is an understatement to say how much of an impact Micah Johnson could have on the young fans of AFL, both queer and straight. We can only hope this is the beginning of a long and illustrious career.

Micah Johnson is, in his own words, “getting his shit together.” And we can’t wait to watch.





Chapter 1


MICAH JOHNSON wasn’t getting his shit together.

He was already getting used to giving the interview everybody wanted to hear, not the reality he was experiencing.

Sure, some parts of his life were good.

He had his own car, for example. Okay, he didn’t own it outright. But it was amazing, the world of credit that had opened to him even on a rookie’s salary. He often went on drives, exploring the city. Locked in his own little cocoon, with the stereo blaring, he felt protected from the world without. If his “foster” family thought it was odd that he disappeared for lengthy periods, they didn’t say that much about it. They made every effort to make him feel welcome—well, all except Sam’s younger brother Dane, but the less said about that the better—Micah could tell they were puzzled he wasn’t doing more to try and fit in and join their own activities. Now that he had a car, he didn’t even ride in with Sam to practice anymore. It was nothing against Sam—Micah just didn’t want to be the tagalong, the burden, the annoyance that Sam had to put up with.

So he just felt more alienated and alone.

And horny. Recently he had a taste of what it was like to have a boyfriend, and the intimacy that came with it. He tried to write it off as mere horniness, but he was craving more than that. He missed Kyle. Not just the sex, but the conversations, the cuddles, the light touches. The feeling that he was wanted.

So he turned to apps. He knew they weren’t giving him what he really needed, but they fulfilled him for at least a few minutes until he felt even lonelier.

He had just come from some guy’s house—he couldn’t even remember his name now. If it had even been his real name. The guy was flushed with embarrassment, and wanted the deed to be over and done with as quickly as possible.

Micah hadn’t cared. That was fine by him.

Sticky, and desperate to wipe the smell of the other guy off him, Micah stopped at the beach. It was blisteringly hot, but fully clothed in his t-shirt and shorts, he waded into the water. He stood looking at the horizon for a while, blinded by the sun. Perth was flat, the sand burnt white hot beneath the unforgiving sun, but they sure had beautiful beaches. You wouldn’t believe the difference between Trigg Beach north of Perth and St. Kilda in Melbourne, for example.

Micah strode further out into the surf, and let himself sink beneath the waves. Cleansed, he broke the surface and doggy paddled for a while.