Page 10

Can we come back from this?

JUSTIN

After an early dinner, we sit watching nature documentaries on the TV, just the three of us, my grandparents and me. It’s all I can manage at the moment, sitting there watching the cheetah slinking through the savanna stalking its prey. The animal life and the wilderness hold my attention sufficiently that for a while I don’t think about anything else. And if my mind wanders into unhappy realms, I gently tug it back to the documentary. My grandparents must know something is up, but thankfully they don’t ask.

I left my phone in the bedroom while we watched TV, because the last thing I want is to be connected to the outside world. I feel like curling up into a ball, or inside a shell, or just plain bleeding all over the floor, so no, I don’t want to be communicating with anyone right now. Consequently, it’s not until the documentary is over and we’re all calling it a night, that I slip into bed and pick up my phone and see the message.

I need to see you. Can we meet?

Why?

We need to talk

But do we really? What’s the point? Explanations? Will it help me move on or will it just break my heart over again? I’m not sure I want to risk that, it’s bad enough as it is. And I'm embarrassed. I feel like such a fool. I’m unsure how to respond. Yes? No? Should I give him some of his own medicine back and ghost him?

In the end, I settle for this: I’m not sure that’s necessary. Or advisable

Please

It’s hard to refuse him. I want to see him, of course. I do. But I’m afraid I’ll end up hurting even more than I do now. Or maybe I’ll get some answers, which is better than being dumped and not understanding why. Although I think I already know why. Pretty sure I saw the reason holding his hand.

I really need to see you. Please

I’m not sure what pulls me over the line, but after five or more minutes oscillating between wanting to say yes and thinking it’s a bad idea, I finally type a reply.

Ok. When?

The answer comes back immediately.

Now? I can pick you up

I was just going to bed

Please. It won’t take long

I sigh, but then I decide it’s better to get this out of the way now rather than stew on it all night, wondering what it is that so desperately has to be said.

Ok

Thx. Be there in 10

I toss the phone down and wonder what I’ve just got myself into, and how much more I can hurt. But hey, what's a few minutes more?

I reluctantly pull my shorts back on, slip on my shoes and grab a hoodie. I knock on my grandparents’ door and let them know I’m going out for a few minutes. Before I have time to rethink my decision, my phone buzzes again.

I’m outside.

I take a deep breath to steady myself before I exit the house, pulling the door gently closed behind me. Axel’s car is waiting in the driveway, and I open the door and slide in. I can't bring myself to look at him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” I reply in as neutral a tone as I can manage. My heart is pounding and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I fiddle with my seatbelt and then stare directly out the windscreen as I ask him, “Where are we going?”

“To our beach,” he replies.

The ‘our’ hurts. We don’t have a beach anymore. It’s just another beach along the east coast of Australia. Anyone’s beach. I swipe at a bit of moisture at the corner of my eye. I’m feeling like a kid again, a hurt kid that can’t control his emotions, and I hate it.

We sit in silence as he drives. Neither of us wants to make small talk. How could we make small talk when there is this big thing between us? For once, the silence between us is not comfortable. I lean against the door and stare out the window into the darkness, biting my lip for strength. Now I'm wondering why the fuck I agreed to this.

It takes a silent forever to reach the winding road down to the beach, the hulking shapes of the trees slash the dark as we take the bends, but eventually we crunch to a stop in the empty carpark behind the tree-lined beach. I feel sad just seeing this place again, and my stomach tenses as my anxiety ratchets up a notch. What can there possibly be left that needs to be said? And why here? This place has memories that I'd like to keep untarnished. Couldn’t we have said it back in the driveway?

At this hour the Norfolk pines are dark and mysterious. Beyond them, the sand glows eerily, and the white of the breaking waves catches the moonlight. It’s like a monochrome photo, a little unearthly and a little surreal. Like a sad momento of a long distant past.

The sound of the engine dies as Axel turns the key, and we’re left with the haunting crash of the waves as they run to the shore, and the mournful whisper of the wind slipping through the pines. Higher up clouds scurryacross the sky, occasionally breaking open to allow a glimpse of the half moon.

We sit there in silence for a beat, then Axel speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

I don’t say anything. What is there to say?

“I hurt you and I’m so sorry I did that.”

Yeah, about that…

The light from a streetlight casts my reflection onto the glass beside me, and I stare past it out the passenger window into the darkness. I blink a few times. And stifle a sniff. I clench my fists on the seat beside my thighs. I'm not going to humiliate myself further by crying in front of him.

“I hurt myself too,” he whispers softly. “I was worried that our age difference meant we couldn’t work out, but I …I think I was wrong.”

I still can’t bring myself to speak.

“I want to keep seeing you,” he whispers.

Why is he saying these things? I know what I saw. I keep looking out into the darkness.

“Please, Justin, please look at me.”

Slowly I turn to him. I'm not just hurt, I’m also angry. In the dim light his features are pale, and his eyes dark, and I can see distress etched in the shadows on his face, but I don’t understand it. When I look at him, I let my guard down for just a moment to let him see all the hurt and pain I feel.

“Don’t be cruel,” I snap, “I saw you with your girlfriend, and you know the kind of feelings I have for you.” Then I turn away again, stare out the side window.

“Girlfriend?” Axel sounds genuinely puzzled, but I know he’s faking it.

“Well, yeah, the one you were holding hands with when we ran into each other today?” My voice is harsh and cold. I’m hurting and I’m furious with him for heartlessly playing with my emotions like this.

“Oh!” he breathes a sigh. “She’s not a girlfriend, she’s my cousin. I don’t have a girlfriend. Justin, I’m not bisexual, I'm gay.”

A tiny ray of hope slips through the bleakness of a truly shitty week, and I want desperately to cling to it. I’m so pathetic.

“I’m so sorry,” Axel continues. He chokes up. “I should have spoken to you sooner.” He falters.

A long silence envelopes us. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I’m completely out of my depth here. My world has been turned on its head and I hardly know which way is up. If this is falling in love, it sucks. It hurts and it's confusing.

Axel draws in a shuddering breath, breaking the silence.

“I like you a lot,” he goes on, “and I’d like to see where this can go. If… if you want to, that is.”

I know I should say something, but I’m frozen in my seat, staring out the side window. Totally still except for the tears he can’t see which are streaming silently down my face.

When I don’t move or respond to him, he asks, “Do you see our age difference as a problem?”

I shake my head. It’s all I can manage right now.

A pause.

“Walk with me?” he asks softly.

I nod.

We get out of the car, and Axel comes to me and wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace.