The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson by Sean Kennedy Page B

field,” Jack said, waiting for him at the door.
    “Uh, me too,” Micah replied, still hung up on the good-looking guy he’d spotted.
    “What’s wrong with you?”
    “Nothing.”
    But that didn’t last long. As they entered their dorm room, they could hear Boyd saying, “I mean, it’s bad enough that he’s here at all, but to have to share a room with him?”
    There were murmured agreements, which died away as Micah cleared his throat.
    The other three boys at least had the decency to look guilty; Boyd just stared back without guile.
    “You know, if you’re that scared of sharing a room with me, feel welcome to go and ask for a transfer,” Micah said. “I’d appreciate the extra space.”
    “I’m not scared of anything,” Boyd said.
    “Hey, weren’t you wanting to beat me up when I got off the bus? Well, here I am, no adult in sight. Here’s your opportunity.”
    Boyd swaggered over to him, and his cronies immediately pulled him back.
    “Are you crazy?” one guy, who Jack would later inform him was Lance, asked. “Do you want to get kicked out?”
    “They won’t kick me out.” Boyd shrugged him off. “I’m one of the top picks.”
    “What? For the arsehole category at the camp quiz night?” Micah asked.
    “I’m not going to waste my time.” Boyd turned back to his bed.
    “Such a brave man,” Micah said. “See you in my dreams tonight, pretty boy.”
    Boyd whirled around, fury personified.
    “Or maybe I’ll be seen in yours?”
    Boyd was practically trembling now, struggling to contain himself. But he turned away again.
    “We’ll all get along fine,” Micah said. “Nice to meet you guys.”
    He gestured to the two empty beds. “Which one do you prefer, Jack?”
    Jack sighed and chose the one close to the door. Maybe to have access to a quick exit if he needed to run. “I can see camp isn’t going to be boring with you.”
    Micah wished it would be. He could do with a boring life every now and again.
     
     
    MICAH DECIDED to go for a quick run before lunch and leave Jack alone, to at least give him a chance to speak to the other guys in the room. Micah was on the rocks; there was no need for Jack to be out there with him.
    The “camp” wasn’t a camp so much as a closed-down primary school a hundred kilometres out of Melbourne, converted into grounds for sporting groups and school trips. It was chosen as a training base for the draft mainly because it had its own private oval and field with the old football goals still in place. As Micah made his second lap, running his hand along the goals as he passed them, he saw the guy he had scoped out earlier dragging a cart filled with equipment onto the green. He gave Micah a small wave as he ran by, and Micah returned it, his heart thumping even heavier than it should have been while exercising.
    He was laying out the distinctive orange-and-white striped witches’ hats as Micah passed him on the third lap. They were probably for sprint trials later on in the day, which made Micah’s calves groan. Maybe coming out for a run was a really bad idea.
    “Shouldn’t you be going to lunch?” the guy yelled at him on his next lap.
    Micah ran toward him, taking it as an invitation for a chat. “Is it that time already?”
    “You must be keen, to be running first thing.”
    “Not so much keen as avoiding my roommates.”
    The guy grinned. “Are you in trouble already?”
    Micah wasn’t even sure how to broach the subject. “I don’t think I’m their ideal roomie.”
    “Probably too scared you’ll crawl in next to them in the wee hours.”
    Micah faltered, his sense of the situation immediately changed. “You seem to know me, but I don’t know you.”
    “Relax,” the guy said. “I’m not the enemy.”
    “How am I meant to take that except to say ‘prove it’?”
    Grinning rakishly, the guy took off his cap and bowed with it. “I’m Kyle. The only other gay in the village.”
    “That we know of,” Micah added