Where the Wind Takes Us

“You’re fucking joking,” Georgia exclaims. We’re sitting at school in our common room, discussing what happened the day before. As soon as I saw what transpired between Josh and that girl, I avoided everyone and kept quiet for the rest of our travels. I swapped seats with Colton so I could sit next to Mick on the flight instead of Josh. Looking at Josh makes me want to hurl, and the worst part is, I don’t even know what I did to deserve it.

It’s revision week before exams next week. We have the option of either staying at home or studying at school to study for exams. Not only do I have three exams, I have two art folios to do which I’m freaking out about because though I’ve made substantial progress, I still have to do plenty to finish them on time. Thank God there’s such a thing as revision week.

I’ve been working day and night to complete my folios. They have to be sent off to the respecting universities I’ve applied to before I submit copies of them to my teachers. I’ve decided how to structure my Studio Art folio, with portraits of people that are important to me stylised by something that represents them or how I view them. My self-portrait will be stylised with coffee because I love it. Colton smokes and can be quite mysterious, so his will be drawn in shades of grey with a smoky texture. Georgia’s is the easiest and most fun to draw, because she’s colourful and vibrant and I want the portrait to reflect that. Mick’s was fun to draw too; his was very structured with lots of lines. James’ portrait was the first one I finished because he’s the easiest to draw. His portrait was bright like Georgia’s and I couldn’t really think of an idea for him so I just drew whatever and hoped it would translate well somehow. I haven’t started Josh’s. One, because I have no idea how to approach his portrait and two, because I want to sort things out with him before I can fulfill my creativity needs. Though being mad at Mick in the past has helped me with my creativity, being sad with Josh hasn’t helped.

Immersing myself in my art work during this week seems to be the best option for me, so I’ve stuck with that. It’s easy to work in the art room with the radio playing softly behind me, Georgia by my side as she writes an essay for English.

I shake my head. “I don’t even know what I did, which is the worst thing. I literally can’t come up with anything and it sucks.”

Georgia sighs. “This sucks. Did you tell the boys?”

I snort. “So they can talk with Josh and ruin everything? No thanks.”

Georgia laughs. “You know James would kick his ass. Probably teach him a thing or two that he learned in juvy.”

“Exactly why I don’t want to bring the boys into it. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Fair enough,” Georgia muses. “You’ve tried talking to him, yeah?”

I nod. “He keeps blowing me off and I don’t know what else to do, so I think I’ll let him cool off this week so he can come to me and tell me what’s up instead of me running to him and not getting an answer.”

“If you don’t get an answer by the end of the week, we’re going to his house so you can corner him,” Georgia decides. “Got it?”

I salute her in response. “Yes m’am.”

Georgia throws a highlighter at my head in response.


 
Later that day, Mick invites me over to his place with the pretence of studying, but I know that he’s ready to tell me what happened between him and Josh all those years ago. I hadn’t wanted to push him too much when we came back, mainly because I was too involved in my own heartbreak to annoy anybody else.

I’m in my sweaty gym clothes when I arrive at Mick’s. He makes a joke about me smelling but proceeds to give me a hug regardless. After saying hello to Mick’s mum, we head upstairs and climb onto his rooftop. The last time I was here, I was ready to profess my love to him. How things have changed.

I’m quiet. Mick’s noticed I’m quiet too. “You want to talk about whatever’s on your mind?” He asks, nudging my shoulder gently.

I shake my head and manage to deflect the subject. “I’d rather hear about what’s on your mind.”

Mick nods, and after a moment, launches straight into the story. “So in 8th grade Josh and I were in the same soccer team with a bunch of other dudes who I guess had something against Josh’s uncle because one of their dads got with Josh’s uncle on the down low while still married or something.” Mick sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “One night the guys and I were hanging out and I was dared to go to Josh’s uncle’s house and steal something, I think it was his soccer jersey. I’m not sure why the focus was Josh when it was his uncle, but I guess the dude wanted to hurt Josh the same way his uncle hurt him.”

“Wait,” I interrupt. “Why were you dared to do it? Why not the dude?”

Mick shrugs. “I was the one dared and you know I’m not going to turn it down.” This is true. Mick doesn’t turn down dares. “So I get to Josh’s and sneak in through the window. I go up to Josh’s room and take his jersey, but then Josh comes out of the bathroom and sees me so I make a run for it. He’s chasing me around the house but there’s candles everywhere and I don’t know who knocked it down but next thing I know, I’ve run out of the house with Josh’s jersey left behind and Josh is still in the house.”

I gasp. Mick takes that as a sign to continue on, his voice heavy with shame. “I never went back to check on him to see if he was okay and I’ve regretted it ever since. A couple of hours later, I returned back to the house to see Josh and his uncle standing in front of it with their house pretty much burned down. They’re talking to the police and Josh sees me but for some reason, he doesn’t say anything.” Mick turns away from me and looks over the view in front of us, the sun setting behind the trees. “I’ve carried the guilt around with me for years.”

It takes a moment for me to speak, but once I do, the words come out slowly. “I don’t understand. Why do you hate him?”

“I don’t hate Josh.” Mick sighs again. “I’ve just felt so shitty about what I did that I can’t stand to look at him without feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and guilt. So I guess I translated my guilty feelings into hating him and picking on him, which doesn’t make sense but yeah.”

I raise an eyebrow. “But yeah is all you have?”

Mick gives me a sideways look. “I feel fucking shit about what I did, please don’t add onto that.”

I cross my arms in annoyance. “But what you said, it’s more than just picking on him, don’t you get that? Why would you resort to making comments about his sexuality? You can’t have the excuse of ‘oh I’m just trying to hurt his feelings’ but then not personally feel a certain way about who he likes. Using something as personal as someone’s sexuality to use as an insult is just a low blow. And if you really were cool with it, you wouldn’t say anything about it in the first place.”

“But…”

I shake my head. “No buts, Mick. You’re either cool with Josh liking guys or you’re not. Which one is it?”

“If I admit it out loud it’s going to make me sound like a massive tool,” Mick admits, looking down.

I snort. “You already sound like a massive tool. Admitting it isn’t going to make a difference.”

“Thanks, Nat.”

“Any time, Mick.”

We’re both quiet for a little bit, watching the sun just starting to set behind the clouds. “It’s just, I don’t know. Unnatural. Boys like girls. Girls like boys. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“Where’d you hear that from?” I ask carefully, not wanting to let it be known that I think Mick’s views are shit. Though he probably already knows that, to be honest.

Mick chuckles darkly. “Have you met my parents?”

Mick’s parents are strict but loving and you can tell they really want the best for Mick. But they’re also judgemental as hell and….yeah, okay. I can see where Mick gets his views from now.

“Just because your rents view things a certain way, doesn’t mean you have to as well,” I say. “Sometimes mum thinks G’s a bit much to handle sometimes but I ignore her because no one’s going to tell me who I can and can’t hang out with. She’s my best friend.”

Mick nods his head slowly in understanding. “Yeah, I get you,” he admits. “For the record, I do know that how I think is fucked. As someone who surrounds themselves with people that advocate in living life to the fullest and being happy and shit, I’d never want to be the person that says, ‘no you can’t do what you want because one person feels uncomfortable with it.’”

“I don’t think you can let go of past beliefs easily, but I think you can teach yourself in time that love is love, we all make our own choices and it’s really no one’s business what anyone does anyways.” I reach over to squeeze Mick’s hand, to let him know that I’m no longer angry at him – even though I am a little disappointed in his words. But at least he’s aware of his thoughts, which is better than nothing, I think. “So have you ever apologised to Josh about the whole fire thing or what?”

Mick shakes his head. “How do you go up to the guy whose life you ruined and go ‘hey man, sorry for fucking up your life. I hope we can shake hands and be done with it?’”

I nod slowly. “So you’re not going to do anything at all?”

I’m surprised to see Mick’s cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink. “You know how I have been saving up money for a new car?” I nod. “I’m gonna give all of it to Josh. Hope he passes it onto his uncle. I don’t need a car now anyways.”

Mick does in fact need a new car. His current one is kinda crap and has broken down on occasion but I don’t say anything, because I know the thought of Mick giving up a substantial amount of money that he’s worked hard for is hard for him to do. I don’t think he’s ever done it before, actually.

“You have about 10k saved up, don’t you?” I ask Mick. His silence affirms to me that it’s a yes. I look at Mick with a look I haven’t given him in a long time: an overwhelming amount of pride and affection for him. What he did was stupid and immature, but I can tell by our conversation how guilty he feels and how deeply this situation has affected him for the past four years or so. “I’m really proud of you, Mick.”

“Really?” I can hear the surprise in his voice. I figure he was waiting for me to blow up at him or be disappointed in him, but I’m not. Well. I’m a little disappointed. But I’m mostly proud. Okay. Maybe it’s like half-half. “I thought you would be mad.”

“I am,” I confirm. “I’m mad and disappointed but I’m also proud of you for saving up that much and giving it to Josh. I can tell that what happened has really affected you and there’s no point torturing you over it and I’m proud that you’re getting off your high horse and actually doing something about it. So yeah.”

Mick kisses me on the forehead and slings an arm around my shoulder as a way of thanks, and the two of us watch the rest of the sunset on his rooftop.