“Robbie, just go mate, you’re clearly distracted and if you keep this up, you’ll end up breaking something,” said Graham. Robbie wanted to protest, but not more than he wanted to find Drew.
“Thanks Graham, and, sorry.”
Graham huffed grumpily, but then smiled. “You did a good job today, Rob, before we got back to the beach anyway.”
Robbie smiled back, then turned to run up the beach to the patrol tent.
Drew wasn't there. Oh, he’d checked in, he was safe, and Robbie supposed if he had been sensible and logical he’d know nobody had been attacked or was missing, because no police cars or ambulances flashed their lights. Concern for a friend wasn’t logical or sensible, concern for a boyfriend wasn't logical or sensible at all.
Robbie escaped the tent after his dad clapped him on the back and several tired swimmers thanked him for his time. He walked slowly through the carpark and across the road to the entrance to the caravan park. He wanted to go in, so badly, talk to Drew, and make up with him, apologise properly, but he couldn’t. He was so raw and afraid and relieved all at once that he wanted to cry. Robbie turned from the park’s entrance and made his way up the road to his house. He would see Drew at the presentation, if he showed up.
Chapter 15 – Robbie
31st December
Robbie wanted to see Drew, to surprise him again at breakfast and flirt gently with his mum while whispering apologies and laughing about whatever snarky ridiculousness Drew was grumbling into his pancakes. He’d tried the turn-up-unexpectedly-at-breakfast plan the day before and it’d ended badly, so he trudged to the beach by summer holiday default.
“Hey Rob,” Bill shouted from the entrance to the beach.
Robbie raised a hand, not bothering to respond. In truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to be anywhere near Bill.
“Where’s gayboy?” Bill said, as he dropped his towel next to Robbie’s chair and then flopped down in the sand.
Robbie’s head started to hurt. How had he let fag, and faggot and homo and gayboy ever be okay to use in that fake teasing way?
“Hey, earth to Rob, what’s wrong with ya?”
“Do you have to talk like that?” Robbie asked
“Like what?”
“Nothing.” Silence again, only interrupted by the seagulls screeching and the low hum of patrol members in the nearby tent.
The scoffing snort Bill huffed out, so incredibly familiar and at the same time, so unfamiliarly grating and unpleasant, it shocked Robbie.
“Stop being a bitch about it. It’s cool. It’s not like we can tell that you like dick.” And that right there, was exactly everything that was wrong about everything.
Robbie stood up, shook out his towel, not caring if sand went all over Bill or in his eyes.
“What the hell dude?” Bill said. Robbie braced himself. If Bill threw a punch, there was no way Robbie was holding back. He waited, but Bill just brushed the sand away and scrubbed at his face. Robbie turned without saying anything and went up the beach to the surf club to see his dad.
“Dad?” Robbie called as he climbed the stairs to the Whitehaven Beach Surf Club. “Dad, are you in here?” Robbie looked around the open clubhouse, filled with the detritus left over from the ocean swim. His dad didn't answer. Robbie was about to leave, when he saw him sitting at one of the fold-out tables, papers surrounding him and his glasses on.
“Dad,” he said quietly.
“Hmm?” Robbie’s dad didn’t look up from the papers he read and marked with a pen.
“Can I talk to you about something?” Robbie asked. His heart pounded a bit more frantically than he felt like it should.
“Yep, just a second while I make sure we have the results list for tonight’s presentation in order.”
Robbie sat down opposite his dad and waited patiently. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to talk yet. He thought he did, or maybe he just thought he should.
“Alright, mate,” his dad said, a few minutes later. He took his glasses off and shuffled the papers in front of him into a neat pile then turned his intense gaze to Robbie, who squirmed.
“Dad.” Robbie paused, considering how to put words to the realisation that perhaps he wasn't okay with being accepted in spite of being gay. His dad watched him, patiently, so different from his usual brash overbearing way of interacting, that it made Robbie even more uncomfortable.
“Dad, it’s okay that I’m gay, right?” Robbie said.
His dad’s expression twisted up like he’d sucked on a lemon. “What do you mean? Of course, it’s damn well okay.” Confusion and anger warred on his father’s face. “Has someone said something to you. Who is it?”
“No. I mean, yes kind of, but not really. It doesn't matter.” Robbie didn't want his father going on a witch hunt, a well-meaning but appallingly bad idea. Perhaps he’d overreacted, anyway.
“What? What did they say?”
Robbie could either tell his dad how he felt about, the way people spoke to him and interacted with him as a gay teenager, right now, or he could just let it go. It hadn’t been that bad really, and his friends and the rest of the locals had good intentions, mostly. Robbie sighed, good intentions weren’t enough.
“It’s not one person dad, it’s everyone, it’s you.” His dad looked shocked, and hurt. Robbie cringed at that, his dad pushed hard to make sure that everyone accepted him when he came out and this felt so ungrateful.
“In some ways, you’ve been amazing. But I think that you kind of tried too hard. You push me into doing things that you think are manly and strong, and it feels like that is to prove that your gay son can pass for straight. That I’m a good-gay.” Robbie’s dad spluttered and tried to say something but Robbie kept talking. If he didn’t get it all out, he would stop, and never tell the truth about how he felt. “Don’t get me wrong, Dad, I love doing stuff with you, I love the beach and surfing and cars, but I don’t need to seem straight. I’m not straight. I don't want to be straight. Why do I have to feel like I should hide that part of me, pretend to be something I’m not, so that everyone else in Whitehaven doesn't have to work to accept me?”
Robbie’s dad sat still and quiet. His expression had shifted from angry to sad. Robbie wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
“Dad, who I'm attracted to, who I want to love and be loved by, doesn’t define me, all those other things like family, and what I do in and for the community and the things we love doing together, they’re just as much part of me. But it hurts when someone, a friend I thought, says that I could pass as straight, like that’s something I should be proud of. I wonder,” Robbie paused again, because of all the things he’d said this might be the thing that would hurt his dad the most, or make him the most angry, “is that how you feel? Like I should be hiding who I am so I don’t embarrass you or you don’t have to think about me being gay?”
“Of course I fucking don’t.” Robbie’s dad hardly ever swore, and even though he was gruff and outwardly aggressive, he wasn’t ever truly angry, and this outburst was angry. “Do you really think I care that you’re gay? I don’t try to hide it. You do. You chose cars, and the surf club, that was you. I have always supported you, haven’t I?” His expression turned from angry to pleading. “Haven’t I?” he asked quietly.
Robbie stood and moved to the other side of the table, pulling his chair around behind him with a horrible screeching noise of the chairlegs on the floor. His dad winced but smiled when Robbie sat down right next to him.
“Dad, I love you. And yeah, I think you have really tried to support me. I think maybe you haven't known how to, and maybe I haven't known what I needed.” Robbie looked down at his hands. “I think maybe you’re trying too hard to show everyone that me being gay isn’t important.”
When Robbie glanced back up at his dad’s face, the expression he saw there made his heart ache.
“It isn’t important,” his dad said, looking both confused and hurt.
“I know what you mean. But also, dad
, it kind of is important. To me. And maybe what you say, and do, and what I say and do, has kind of helped people to think that being gay is okay, but only if you’re the right kind of gay. The kind of gay that can pass for straight. The kind of gay that pretends they’re not really gay, that hides who they are.” The last part was hard to admit, and Robbie felt sick as he said the words, like saying them made all the nasty feelings of being not quite as accepted and loved as he thought form into something solid.
Robbie's dad said nothing. Just sat there, looking at him. Robbie wanted to take it all back. Things weren't bad. He’d been happy hanging with friends and at the beach, with his parents. Why did Drew have to come and mess that all up? Blow away the illusion that things had been great in Whitehaven. No, that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t Drew’s fault. Robbie was done with suppressing how he really felt so he didn’t rock the boat.
He pushed his chair out, ready to leave. His dad loved him. His dad thought he was being supportive, it was enough. Robbie’s dad grabbed his hand as he stood up.
“Robbie. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant to do. I promise. I’ll try and do better.” He let Robbie’s hand go as soon as he finished speaking, not forcing him to stay. Robbie grabbed it back, and squeezed.
“Thank you.”
Robbie left the surf club with a lighter heart and a lighter step. Talking to his father had been hard, but the honesty of it cut through the cloudiness of feelings that he hadn't realised he had been hiding behind for years, regardless of what happened, he didn’t want to hide behind the facade that he had built with every conscious and unconscious criticism of his sexuality. He felt real. He wanted to see Drew.
***
“Hi there Robbie love, are you looking for Andy?” Mrs McConnell cooed from where she lounged in a deck chair with a group of holiday makers in the front yard of one of the permanent caravans. They all had big hats, revealing beachwear and huge sunglasses. They looked like the real housewives of Whitehaven Holiday Park holding fruity, umbrella-clad, drinks and eating a multitude of tiny snacks. Robbie smiled brightly and waved, nodding his head as he tried to walk past the afternoon cocktail party.
“He’s not there, darling. He went out somewhere with his dad, but we’ll be at the Bowling Club tonight for the presentation and New Year’s. Do you want me to let him know you came by?” Robbie wasn’t certain she’d still be standing by the evening, the drink she held looked, and smelled potent.
“No, it’s okay, thanks,” he replied, hiding his disappointment, “I’ll just catch up with him tonight.” Robbie extracted himself with a smile from the ladies, who urged him to stay.
Chapter 16 – Drew
31st December
The afternoon had been, not exactly fun or pleasant, but not awful either. Drew’s dad went real estate hunting every time they came to Whitehaven, talking about buying a holiday property and setting up in the area. Drew had no interest, and had never gone with him to see any of the houses or land before, not even when he’d been eight and his mum still been invested enough to go. Drew had tagged along with Isaac, riding bikes around the Park or begging an older kid to take them to the beach.
He’d hopped in the car with his dad when he’d left in the morning, though, rather than stay home where Robbie could turn up at any moment, pretending like nothing had happened, and he hadn’t chosen his homophobic arsehole friends over Drew.
Drew opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, regretting it instantly with the sting of heat from the leather seat. His dad got in next to him and turned on the engine, cranking the air conditioning up to high.
“It’s been nice having you with me today,” Drew’s dad said.
“Yeah. It was. Not like I want to go real estate-ing with you every day that we’re here, but today was nice,” Drew replied.
“I’m not complaining, but how come you’re here? With me. I mean, instead of hanging out with someone at the beach. Or with Robbie?” Drew’s dad’s voice tentatively curious. A flush of embarrassment rolled in a wave up Drew’s chest, neck and face. Drew didn't want to talk about his boyfriend, or maybe not-his-boyfriend, with his dad.
“Just needed a break I guess,” Drew said, picking at his fingernails with an intensity that would end in bleeding cuticles. Drew’s dad didn’t reply, and after a few minutes Drew began to relax back into the seat.
“From the beach? Or Robbie?”
“I don't know, either, both,” replied Drew.
“Hmm.” his father’s questioning murmur familiar and irritating.
“Robbie and I had a fight. Kind of. His friends are,” Drew didn't know how to continue. His father would be fine, he was one hundred percent sure that his dad knew he was gay, even if he’d never said it out loud to anyone except Robbie, not even Isaac. It felt like a horrible irony that the one person he had come out to officially, was gay and weirdly ok with homophobia, and the people who he knew would be fine, his parents, Isaac, had been left to just kind of work it out themselves. Was it some form of self-sabotage?
“You and Robbie have a fight?”
“No, I mean, yes, a bit. Ugh. Dad, do we really have to talk about this?”
“No I suppose not,” Drew’s dad replied. He didn't say anything else, nothing. Drew’s thoughts raced between his dad’s words, and actions, between what he expected, that his dad would try and tease out what was wrong, and his silence.
“Dad, I don’t think he feels good about himself.” The words spilled from his lips as they formed in his mind. “His friends are, not nice. They call him stuff, and they say it’s a joke, or just guys, mates, but dad, it’s not really, I don’t think.” Drew didn’t exactly know how to tell his dad about the way Bill spoke to him without sounding like a whiney tell-tale baby. Maybe that didn't really matter. “They called me a faggot, and they call him homo, and gayboy, all the time.” Nausea rose up in his throat.
Drew’s dad reached across the centre console and gripped Drew’s shoulder.
“I love you son,” he said simply, then put his hands back on the wheel and drove back to the caravan park in silence.
Chapter 17 – Robbie
31st December
A mix of locals, holiday makers and laid-back ocean swimmers packed into the Bowling Club combining their New Year's Eve celebration with the Whitehaven Classic presentation night. Christmas decorations alternated with ‘Happy New Year’ banners, and party poppers and sparklers were scattered with glitter confetti all over the tables.
Robbie made his way through the crowds at the bistro, glad of his dad’s place on the club committee, and fully prepared to cash in on that when he skipped ahead of the ridiculously long line of people waiting to order food.
“Hey Rob.” Unsure who had spoken, Rob lifted his hand in salute towards the bar before continuing through the room. He wanted to find Drew. After an extended circuit around the tables in the main bar and dining area, he resigned himself to waiting Drew out. He couldn't see him anywhere, and the space became more and more crowded with diners.
Robbie found the table his parents had set up and maneuvered his chair so he could watch the two entrances to the room while seated.
“Do you want food, darling?” Robbie’s mother asked while she slid her necklace charms into place, settling them so they weren't tangled, the sound comfortingly familiar.
“Yeah, fish and chips, unless there’s a beer and oyster deal?” Robbie looked hopefully innocent at his request for the New Year’s Eve special that had been running ever since he could remember.
“Yeah right, you might get away with that with your dad, but if you want to drink you have to wait till tomorrow when you’re actually eighteen.” She laughed and patted his cheek before winding through the crowd to the registers to flirt her way past the line. When she had ordered, she dropped the buzzer on the table and slid back into her seat with a new glass of wine.
Bill and his parents arrived and sat across from Robbie, who narrowed his eyes, daring Bill to say somethi
ng. Bill smirked and got out his phone, tapping away and ignoring Robbie as their parents gossiped and drank.
The buzzer from the bistro vibrated and flashed, letting the table know food was ready to be picked up.
“I’ll get it,” said Robbie, grabbing the alarm, ready to do almost anything to get away from Bill and his smug smile. Bill stood too. Robbie glared and willed him to sit back down.
“Yeah, I’ll help you carry stuff.”
Robbie’s mum smiled at Bill and patted him on the arm as he passed by.
“Thanks sweetheart. Let Lisa at the register know you’re sitting with us, she’ll cut you into the line. Hilary, Chris, you should get Bill to order for you.” Robbie’s mum started ordering Bill’s parents around too, and Robbie escaped while they decided what they wanted from the bistro. Bill caught up quickly enough and grabbed Robbie’s shoulder.
“Wait for me. Your mum said you have to let Lisa know we’re with you.” Robbie stared at Bill’s hand until he dropped it back to his side.
“Come on then,” Robbie said eventually, he slipped through the crowds, not waiting to see if Bill followed.
Robbie handed the buzzer over the counter and the girl behind it smiled at him. She pointed to three full trays of food. His mother had gone overboard.
“You’ll need to do a few trips Robbie love,” she said. Robbie couldn't remember her name, but he smiled and nodded. He’d rather come back to the counter again than have Bill help him. Bill slipped around and grabbed the last of the three trays.
“What are you doing? Leave our stuff alone. I’ll come back and get it.”
“Oysters huh? Bet they’re for you,” said Bill, ignoring Robbie’s instruction.
“What?” asked Robbie, confused, only half paying attention to what Bill said, wanting to get away before he replied with something poisonous.
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