by Renae Kaye
“No.”
“No husband and kids and forevers?”
Okay. So I had thought about that. “Maybe one kid,” I said. “And the husband would have to come first, which isn’t going to happen, since Australians don’t have gay marriage at the moment.” There were rumblings around parliament about bringing in a law to allow it, but it hadn’t eventuated. The LGBT community was hoping they wouldn’t put it to a public vote, because that would invite a huge amount of homophobic people to have their say in the open community. “But a long-term partner would be nice. Someone to grow old with.”
“So that’s what you want? Someone to grow old with?”
Yeah, I was so the center of every party. “Someone to love me and who I could love back. It doesn’t need to be fireworks and bells and whistles. Just a quiet life with a man I can share my life with—someone who doesn’t mind me being me, which means I retreat into my books, hoard paperbacks, and buy Legolas figurines on eBay.”
“And this man you want to do this with? Does he have to enjoy the same life?”
My mouth fluttered in a hesitation of a smile. Didn’t he get it?
“No. I’m happy to cheer him on to his goals and tag along quietly behind as he goes chasing his dreams, as long as he comes back to me each night.”
Did he get what I was saying now?
“So your hopes are gay marriage being legal and me playing again?” His eyes held a shimmer of confusion.
“Yes. Oh, and maybe that Draco and Harry get together.”
Ambrose’s phone beeped twice, and it broke the spell. We were late to the appointment. We hurried to find the correct place and sat in the waiting room. When the doctor called Ambrose’s name, he stood and looked at me.
“Aren’t you coming?”
Surprised, I meekly followed him into the consulting room. I sat in a chair and held the crutches while Ambrose was interrogated and examined. I listened to the instructions and discovered Hawthorn’s team doctor had made a call to his friend in Western Australia on Saturday afternoon in order to fit Ambrose in today. It seemed that Ambrose had finally called Geoff, the team doctor, on Saturday while I was reading my book, and Geoff had called in a favor to have Ambrose seen by the specialist.
Ambrose was pronounced fit, healthy, and healing. The doctor was happy he wasn’t overdoing it, and we were free to make another appointment for the following week.
“Where to now?” I asked as we climbed back in my car.
“Lunch?”
“Sounds good.”
“And a bookstore,” Ambrose said firmly.
“What?”
He turned to me. “If I can’t buy you a car, then I’ll buy you lunch and some books. While you’re browsing the books, I’m going to have to think of ways to make your dreams come true.”
But which ones?
AMBROSE SHOULD’VE stuck to his guns and bought me a car. Letting me go into a bookstore and buy “whatever I wanted” was a dangerous promise.
I left him in a coffee shop with his back to the door and promised I would message him when I was ready for him to come and pay for my purchases. Then I forgot about him as I got lost in the wonder of words and strange worlds.
“Only nine? How stingy.”
I looked up at his voice. I was kneeling on the ground, checking out the first chapter of a book to see if I wanted it. Next to me was a pile of books I’d selected. I stopped and counted. Nine.
I got to my feet. “Shit. Sorry. I forgot about you.”
“And here I was thinking I was unforgettable to you. Come on. You’ve been here an hour, and I’m out of friends to text. Grab your nine books and that one you’re holding, because ten sounds like enough books, and let’s go home.”
The total was over $250, but… well, books.
I happily walked beside Ambrose with my two large carrier bags full of what would hopefully be wonderful words.
“You’re too easy to please,” Ambrose said teasingly.
“Says the man who came before I was ready for him last night,” I teased back.
“Take it as a compliment. You were too good,” Ambrose grumbled with a slight blush.
I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t get to take it at all, which was what I was complaining about.”
The blush spread farther down his neck. “Just wait until I’m mobile again. The boot will be on the other foot then.”
“Can’t wait.”
Back home there was a marked change in Ambrose. He seemed… happy, not depressed or aimless anymore. I ran over the events of the day.
He’d met his grandfather and family. He’d finally gone to the doctor. He’d messaged his friends back. He’d bought me books.
Which one had made the difference?
Then his phone began to ring every thirty minutes. I heard him talk to Sean and then to Geoff. But the fifth call was from his coach. He groaned, told me who it was, and then limped outside without his crutches to talk. They chatted for a long while.
When he came back, he collapsed onto the couch.
“That bad?” I commiserated.
Ambrose ran his hands over his face. “Nah. He’s actually really good. He’s set up an appointment for me to go and talk to a psychologist. Apparently it’s pretty standard. It’s the first big injury I’ve had, and they like to keep an eye on the mental well-being of their players. He also wants me to go back to Melbourne, be a part of the team.”
My heart sank.
“Are you going to go?”
He looked at me. “I don’t know, Shane. I really don’t know.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
AMBROSE WASN’T the only one getting messages from his friends. Vinnie started it in the group chat we were all a part of. The entire conversation took place over a full day.
Vinnie: Pride Round coming up.
Tate: Huh? What’s coming up? Is this a TMI moment between you and Aaron?
Vinnie: Pride Round? Football? The round where they celebrate LGBT pride?
Tate: Oh. Football. I should’ve guessed.
Liam: If celebrating means beer, I’m always in.
Hiram: He’s always in? TMI moment between Liam and Jamie there?
Liam: Shut up.
Vinnie: It’s Pride Round. We have to DO something.
Liam: We will. Beer.
Vinnie: I mean we should go to the game. Show our pride.
Vinnie’s messages were liberally sprinkled with rainbow stickers between the sentences.
Aaron: The only teams celebrating the Pride Round are over in the east. Perth doesn’t get to celebrate.
Vinnie: All the more reason to do it.
Kee: How about we all celebrate by kissing our boyfriends then taking them to bed after the game?
Tate: I’m in!
Hiram: That’s not fair. I miss out then.
Vinnie: How about we all celebrate by going to the game? Dockers are playing.
Aaron: You want me to go to a DOCKERS game????
Liam: I’m in!
Liam was a mad Dockers fan, while his best friend, Aaron, supported the other Perth team. It made for teasing times.
Kee: Micah Johnson is playing. He’s the only out AFL player. He deserves to play a Pride Round game.
Vinnie: Yeah. We could go and show our support to Micah.
Tate: You want me to go to a Dockers game? Like actually attend?
Tate followed up his message with an emoji showing horror.
Aaron: We’ll go next week when the Eagles are playing.
Vinnie: Duh. It has to be THIS week on Pride Round.
Aaron: I don’t want to go to a Dockers game.
Vinnie: You will go with me if you know what’s good for you.
Hiram: Oh, oh. Aaron’s in trouble.
Vinnie: We’re going. I’ve decided. I’m going to buy the tickets. Who’s coming and who’s not going to be a good pride supporter? I’m getting some extra tickets for my brothers.
Liam: I’m in. Jay will come too.
Jamie: I will?
Liam: Yes. There will be more people to watch at the game, and guys on the field are hotter to perv on.
John: Are you saying I’m not hot enough to perv on? I’m in.
Aaron: Fine. I’ll go.
Kee: Tate and I will go too.
Hiram: If the rest of you are going, I may as well.
Kee: What about Shane?
Jamie: Yes. Where’s Shane?
Tate: Shane?????
Hiram: SHANE!!!
Kee: He’s probably got a book.
Vinnie: I’ll ring him and tell him he’s going.
I watched the conversation unfold in front of me, and on Tuesday night, while Ambrose and I were watching TV, my phone started to ring. I reached over and turned it to silent.
“Someone you don’t want to talk to?”
I sighed. “It’s Vinnie. The guys have organized to go to the Dockers game on Saturday. It’s the Pride Round, so they want to go. Apparently they’re going to go and cheer on Micah Johnson.”
“That sounds like fun.”
I didn’t answer.
“You don’t want to go?” he asked in confusion.
I screwed up my nose. “Unless you’re playing, football’s boring.”
Now it was his turn not to answer. Then he said quietly, “Sometimes you do things you don’t really enjoy just because they’re your friends.”
Like buying $250 worth of books?
“So you think I should go to the game?”
“I think friends are the most important people in your life.”
I sighed loudly and picked up my phone.
Me: Fine. I’m in.
Vinnie: YES!
Kee: Yay!
Jamie sent a series of stickers denoting celebrations. Hiram sent some clapping hands. I didn’t get them, because by that time, Ambrose had distracted me with a kiss and we were in my bed, naked.
I CALLED in sick on Monday and Tuesday and turned up to work on Wednesday, dragging my feet. I didn’t want to leave the bed where it was warm and smelled of sex. Usually I didn’t want to leave bed because there I had a good book. This time I didn’t want to leave Ambrose.
Work dragged worse than usual because I had to catch up two days and I kept thinking of Ambrose, waiting for me at home.
And he was waiting just inside the door.
“You didn’t wake me before you left,” he greeted me.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you,” I said as I closed the door behind me and stripped off my rain jacket. It was back to the winter showers outside.
He was standing in the middle of my lounge room, propped up on his crutches as usual, a petulant expression on his face. I approached, and he didn’t move. I slowly moved in for a kiss and gave him plenty of time to back out if he wanted. He didn’t, so I kissed him hello, and he kissed me back. I clutched at his shoulders and opened my mouth to him. He pushed his tongue inside with a grunt of satisfaction. With my eyes closed and my senses locked on the sensation of our kiss, I could feel him move, but didn’t bother to stop because he wasn’t pulling out of the kiss. It was only when I heard the crutches crash to the floor did I realize he’d been shedding them.
He groaned and leaned heavier on me.
“I missed you,” he whispered as we paused to get our breath.
“I missed you too.”
He kissed me more and then pulled back to rest his forehead against mine. “I missed you more than just today. I’ve missed you all this year.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He stood up straight. “Why are you sorry?”
“For ignoring you this year. For pulling away from our friendship.”
Ambrose’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “I didn’t blame you. I was an arse. What I did in December, it was… it was fucked-up. It was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do it?”
Ambrose took a wonky step away from me and then limped to the couch. He lowered himself gingerly down and propped his leg up on the coffee table.
“My head….” He started only to look ashamed. “Will you listen without laughing?”
I realized I hadn’t even ventured more than a couple of steps from my front door. My jacket and my bag were unceremoniously dumped on the floor, but I didn’t give them a second glance as I made my way to the couch and sat beside him. I turned sideways and drew my knee up so I could give him my full attention.
“Of course I won’t laugh. When have I ever laughed at you?”
He reached out and grabbed my hand. “I don’t know why you’re such a great friend to me.”
I grinned. “Probably because our mums gave us no choice and still don’t give us that choice.”
He knew it to be the truth by the way he grimaced. “I was a crappy friend in school. I ignored you.”
It seriously didn’t affect my life anymore, so I shrugged. “Water under the bridge. What we do as children shouldn’t be held against us as adults.”
For a moment we sat in silence, but he finally found where he wanted to start. “Growing up, you were like my big brother. You got to do all the things first, so I could watch and observe you and then make my own decisions on how to handle the big things in life. Starting high school, first school dance, exams—you did them all first.”
I didn’t see how that had any relevance to last December. Someone had to be first, and I happened to be older.
He went on. “My friends at school talked about sex and girls and masturbation all the time.” He rolled his eyes to show his exasperation. “Sometimes I would join in, but most of the time, I simply found another conversation to enter. I never realized how much they talked about it until much later, because you and I never did talk about sex. So I thought it was normal not to think about it all the time.”
I chuckled. “Oh, Ambrose. I thought about sex all the goddamn time as a teen, but I was desperately hiding that I was gay. So, of course I didn’t talk to you about my thoughts.”
A look of surprise crossed his face. “I never thought about it in those terms. I just knew it wasn’t something that came up in our relationship, so I thought it normal. Coaches and teachers always commented and admired my drive when it came to athletic pursuits, so I thought maybe my mind was so full of that I didn’t have time to think of girls.”
It was true. As a teen he was extremely focused on the game.
“The night you came out to your mum?” He glanced at me, and I nodded. I remembered that night clearly. “I’d already figured you were gay. It wasn’t a big deal to me. But you’d come out to your mum because you wanted to go and have sex with some strange guy. I was shocked. It had never even occurred to me you might want to have sex with guys.” He snorted. “Okay, so I knew that being gay meant you wanted sex with guys, but I didn’t realize you wanted it then. I just always thought of it as a vague future thing you would do.”
That made me chuckle. “Oh, I wanted it. I wanted it bad,” I assured him.
He looked up again, and our eyes met. “That was the first night I realized I wanted it too. With you.”
It was my turn to be shocked. “That was the first night you felt… horny? Like ever?”
He shrugged. “Well, not ever. Of course I jerked off occasionally and wondered what it would be like to have sex with certain people. But it was the first time I’d had an urge to really… want it. I’d always thought that footy took up all my time.”
And for the first time I appreciated the depths of Ambrose’s difference when it came to sex. For a teenage boy to say he only jerked off occasionally? It was so different from my own experience.
I couldn’t speak.
“So, on your advice, I got a girlfriend. You remember Jodie?” Of course I remembered Jodie. “Guys my age were getting girlfriends, so I asked Jodie out. Then we dated for about six months until we finally had sex. It was great. I loved it. We had sex whenever we could.”
“But?”
He gestured with
his hand. “But then she dumped me because she fancied another guy—Hunter Mackenzie. Do you remember him?”
Did I remember Hunter? Of course I did. Victims didn’t forget their bullies easily.
“Sure.”
Ambrose frowned at where our hands were clasped together. “I didn’t get it. I didn’t get how she could fancy someone else so easily. But there was algebra and exams and football, so I forgot about it and ended up drafted.”
“You know how proud I was of that moment, right?”
“Yeah. But I was scared. Suddenly I was going to go to Melbourne, and you weren’t there. You’d always been there for me. You’d either led the way or supported me through whatever trial. You helped me with algebra when it was hard. You went to my games, and just knowing you were watching helped me.”
“That’s what friends do.”
“But Melbourne was really high school all over again,” Ambrose said. “Footy, sex, girls, footy. They were the things life revolved around. If you didn’t have a girl, people tried to find you one. And most of the girls who wanted to date footy players purely wanted the brag factor.”
I smiled, suddenly understanding. “And all you wanted to do was play football, right?”
He looked at me, his chin coming up and his gaze piercing all of a sudden. “Play football and hang with you. I mean, I missed Mum, of course, but I also missed you and your mum. You and Elaine are my family too.” We stared for a moment, each lost in memories of those early years of separation. He heaved another sigh. “Then I started hanging around with Dan and Sean. They put us together because we all have Aboriginal in our background. Sean’s family accepted me into their own, and I did a lot of stuff with them. It was almost like having a family of my own.”
He swallowed, and I appreciated how much it was taking from him. I waited quietly.
“So I got a girlfriend and then another. It was expected of me, and they were nice to hang out with. Sometimes they’d get pushy. I learned to choose ones who didn’t want to party all the time. Kendra was great. We were friends as well as more. She liked to have a known footballer on her Instagram, and I liked that she didn’t need me around all the time. It was tiring.”