Page 1

Palm Beach, Sydney

JUSTIN

“Don’t forget to set for six. They’re bringing their son with them, remember?”

“Yeah, sure.” I sigh. Why do parents – and grandparents in this case – always assume that two young people will hit it off, just because they’re of similar age?

Ugh. It’s not the first time my grandparents have pulled this stunt, and almost every time it’s been painfully awkward. The only time it wasn’t, the new ‘friend’ was a girl. In my experience, girls like hanging out with gay guys, maybe ‘cause they feel safe around them, but guys my age…well, they generally keep me at a wary distance. My family haven’t figured out my sexual orientation yet, but every person my age can tell, and most straight guys behave as if the gay guy is going to hit on every guy he meets. Like we just can’t control ourselves. Like straight guys are all so lust worthy. As if. Idiots.

Anyway, I know my grandparents mean well. And yes, I don’t have friends here in Sydney, but I’m only here for the holidays and I’m perfectly happy with my own company. My grandparents live in a beautiful, airy house overlooking a stunning surf beach - which is just a short ten-minute walk down the hill - and I spend most of my days down there, swimming or lounging on the beach. What’s not to love about that?

Well, maybe the fifteen-minute walk back up the hill after the swim, which means I’m hot and ready to go back down again as soon as I get home. But, whatever. It’s a small price to pay. I don’t have my license yet, so walking it is, unless my grandparents pick me up, but then I have to pick a time and stick to it... and that is not the point of a holiday, so, nah, I'll walk.

I love spending my holidays here, and when I’m not at the beach, I draw or paint, or read novels. There’s nothing I find more relaxing than sitting at the table in the sunroom surrounded by paper and colored pencils, the sun shining through the glass walls of the sunroom, the cicadas singing, and the beautiful blue ocean stretched out in front me.

But not today.

I will admit to being a little put out at having my peaceful holiday routine disrupted by visitors, but it’s not my house, so I roll with it. It’s not so bad when it’s just my grandparents’ friends that come, because after lunch I can easily make my escape and head off to the beach. However, when they’re bringing their son or daughter to ‘keep me company’, I’m obliged to stick around. Sometimes I’m able to convince them to come to the beach which sort of takes the pressure off having awkward conversation, but usually we just end up on our phones basically ignoring each other.

I’m not looking forward to today, because a) guy (probably straight), and b) way older than me, which means we’ll have even less in common.

I groan inwardly. Still, it’s just a few painful hours and then I can be at the beach again. I can do this.