“So why get us involved now?”
He was scared he was going to lose it and start bawling in front of them. “Because it got too hard. And I knew I needed help.”
Alex slowly nodded. “So, it’s like you stopped yourself from doing something really stupid, like when you ran away?”
“Bit hard to run away when you guys are in a different state,” Micah said, trying to alleviate the tension in the room a little even though his humour usually backfired. “But, yeah. I ran away last year because I couldn’t deal. And right now, I’m not dealing. So I’m coming to you guys.”
Joanne looked at Rick, some silent exchange occurring between them Micah couldn’t figure out, and then looked back at him. “Thank you for telling us. But your dad and I need to have a talk now about what we can do to help you.”
“Shouldn’t I be in on this conversation?”
“You’ve kept us out of the loop, allow us one hour to do the same.” She flinched at how hard she sounded, and laid her hand upon his arm. “I’m sorry. We’re just worried. So, please, let us talk to each other and then we’ll come in and see you.”
Micah nodded. “I guess I’ll go and pack.”
“I’ll help you,” Alex said.
In Micah’s room they could hear the hushed voices of their parents as they discussed yet another bomb Micah had dropped on them. Alex closed the door so they became even more muted.
“I’m sorry that I’m doing this to you again,” Micah said.
“No, I’m glad.”
“Really? Shit, you’re a glutton for punishment.”
“I mean, I’m glad because you’re telling us you’re in trouble this time.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m in trouble,” Micah said, and paused. “Okay, I guess I’m in some form of trouble.”
“It’s an improvement on last year, at least.”
Micah wondered if Alex would feel the same had he known about the antiviral drugs hidden in Micah’s new bag. Micah carefully folded the bag in two and stuck it inside his suitcase.
“You packed light,” Alex said.
“Not light enough,” Micah said, but he didn’t explain what he meant.
MICAH STARED at his parents. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s an option,” Rick said.
“One we’re thinking very seriously about,” Joanne added.
“But what about Alex?” Micah asked. “He has to be let in on this decision, right?”
“We’ll talk to him about it.”
“I can’t let you guys do this.”
“We don’t know if we’re doing it yet. There are a lot of things we need to discuss, and there isn’t enough time because we’re already running late for the airport.” Joanne stood back and observed him for a moment, before hugging him mercilessly. “Just please don’t say anything to Alex yet. He has to hear it from us.”
“You promise me, if he doesn’t want to do it, you don’t force him. There are other ways to help me. In fact, I’m going to talk to Sam once I’m back in Perth. Once he knows, he’ll help me. We don’t have to go to such extremes.”
“Micah,” Rick said, coming over and hugging him as well. Micah was crushed between both of his parents, but it was a good crush rather than an overbearing one. “We promised you that we would help you with anything, as long as you came to us. We don’t want a repeat of last year where you were in so much trouble you ran away.”
“That’s not going to happen. It’s why I told you.”
“Just tell me one thing,” Joanne said.
“Okay.”
“Would this help you, if we do this? Or would we make it worse?”
His mum and dad looked at him expectantly. Honesty was required here, but to be honest meant being selfish. Perhaps the most selfish he had ever been in his life. And Alex was already pretty self-aware about how he always had to take a back seat to Micah’s demands.
“Micah,” his dad said, prompting an answer from him.
“Yes,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I think it would. Help me, I mean.”
It turned out honesty could relieve your burden.
WHEN SAM had arranged previously to pick him up from the airport, Micah bet he didn’t know what was awaiting him as they drove home. They ended up pulling over on the Reid Highway, the cars whizzing past them at frightening speeds as Micah told him the same (almost entirely honest) story of his life since the beginning of the year.
“Please say something,” Micah said, when Sam remained silent.
“I am supposed to be your… mentor, for lack of a better word.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” For the first time since he had come to stay with the Mitchells, Micah saw an angry Sam. Sure, he had seen “angry” Sam on the field, but it had never been directed at him. “Because I have done everything I could to make you feel at home, Micah, ever since you got here. You’ve been slipping by the wayside, and you’ve never come to me for help.”
“What could you have done?” Micah shot back. “This was my own self-destructive shit. There’s nothing you could have done to stop me.”
“That’s bullshit. If you’d told me what you were struggling with, I’d have found ways. That’s why we signed up to take you in, so you wouldn’t have these problems. Or if you did, we’d get something sorted to stop it from getting so bad.”
“None of this is on you.” Micah released his seatbelt as it was digging into his neck. “It’s all me.”
“Nice words, but they mean nothing.” Sam sounded tired. “When you’re in my position, whether it’s being a mentor or being a captain yourself one day, I hope you never feel like such a failure in looking after your charge like I do now.”
“It’s not about you.”
“That’s something you have to learn, Micah. No matter what you do to yourself, it affects others.”
Micah stared out the window. The cars on the freeway were just streaks of light and noise, and they never stopped coming. Sam’s words sunk in, as they were so painfully true. Right now, his parents were probably still talking about him, and mulling over the logistics of everything they had said to him that afternoon.
“You’re right,” he told Sam. “Because my family are thinking of moving here.”