Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(8)

He obviously wasn’t hiding it as well as he thought he had, if this was his second intervention in as many hours. Time to add a little truth to the lie to make it more believable. “I’m homesick. There’s nothing anybody can do about that. I miss my family. Even my dad’s stupid dad jokes, my mum’s ability to invade privacy on every level, and my little brother being his usual smart aleck self.”

“You’re right. There’s not much we can do about that. Although Pete has an appalling amount of dad jokes he could inflict upon you. But if you ever need to talk, you know where we are.”

“I know.”

She sighed. “I don’t actually think you do, because you never have.”

“I’m a guy, remember? We don’t talk about our feelings. Even the gay guys.”

“Oh, wonderful, stereotyping.”

“There is one thing you can help me with.” Micah offered her some bait.

“What?” Rhonda leaned forward eagerly.

“Feeeeeed me,” he moaned.

She rolled her eyes, but left him to tidy himself up a bit before he came down to join them.




“HERE HE is!” Sam’s girlfriend Maia said as Micah finally made an appearance. She handed him a beer, and he took it, grateful for any kind of social lubricant that would make getting through the next few hours easier. Not that it was a chore to see the Mitchells; it was just knowing that they were aware of his “depressive state.” He would have to make a real effort to be “on” and assuage their fears just a little bit to give him more breathing room. “I was starting to think you had gone back to Melbourne.”

No such luck. But Micah plastered on a smile. “Only in my mind.”

She gave him a sympathetic arm rub. “Maybe we could go to Freo next weekend. There’s at least some old buildings there that might remind you of home. Unfortunately the city of Perth believes in knocking down any building that wasn’t up before 1960.”

Sam and his dad were fussing over the meat and being manly men. Dane was scowling at one end of the patio table, and trying his best to look like he didn’t belong there. Maia sat in between him and Dane, seemingly unaware of the waves of hostility going from one to the other.

“What have you guys been up to today?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Dane mumbled.

“For a swim,” Micah said, trying to be more sociable.

“Did you swim a lot back home?”

“Not really. Didn’t live that close to the beach, and well, to put it bluntly you have to travel a bit out of the city to find a nice beach. Not like here.”

Maia smiled cheekily. “Better watch yourself, there. You actually sound like you’re appreciating something about Perth.”

Micah took a swig of his beer. “Shit, you’re right. I take it back.” He smiled to let her know he wasn’t being totally serious.

“If you hate it so much, then why stay here?”

Maia and Micah stared down at the other end of the table. Dane stared back at them defiantly.

“It speaks!” Micah mumbled.

“Dane!” Maia admonished him.

“What?” Dane said. “I’m just asking a question. He hates it here. We’ve taken him in, and he puts down everything.”

“I don’t think cracking a few jokes about Perth is putting down everything,” Maia said.

“What, he can’t talk for himself?”

“Sure I can,” Micah said. “But anything I say you’re not going to listen to.”

“You got that right.” Dane jumped to his feet, almost overturning his chair, and stormed off.

“Honestly,” Maia sighed. “You’d think he was thirteen, not eighteen. Teen angst has hit him a little late. Don’t worry about it, Micah.”

Micah wasn’t worried about it. At least, not when it came to himself. He was more worried about the effect Dane’s behaviour could have on the Mitchells. It certainly wasn’t pleasant for them.

A couple of teammates popped by, just in time for food. By then, Dane had returned. He kept to himself, watching from the corner as the footy boys talked boisterously among themselves. Micah felt sorry for him, and even considered approaching him and trying to include him.

But he’d been snapped at enough by Dane for one day. He chose to bond with his teammates instead.




BUT THAT night as he prepared for bed, Micah began to feel guilty again and decided to knock on Dane’s door.

“What?” came the muffled response.

“Can I come in?”

“No!”

Well, you couldn’t be more emphatic than that. But Micah shrugged to himself. “Okay, coming in!”

“No way!”

“What, are you wanking or something?”

“You wish, you perv!” The door opened a crack, and Dane peered out at him. “What do you want?”

“I just think, we have to live in this house together for the foreseeable future. Shouldn’t we call a truce or something?”

“How about you just ignore me, and I’ll ignore you?”

Micah groaned. “You know your family aren’t going to go for that.”

“Well, they know we’ll never be best friends.”