A New Life - 14. Chapter 14: Surprise

Blake’s trembling right hand was buried inside his pocket, fingers caressing the tiny plastic bubble with the silvery foil that lay there, safely tucked away. It was calling to him and he touched it compulsively, longingly. Its enticing presence promised him relief. Relief from the pain, relief from the bad things he was feeling; an end to his suffering.

Thus far, he had resisted the siren’s call, despite a hellish night of anxious dreams and restless sleep. However now, standing in front of the dive shop, he was seriously reconsidering this position. Abstaining from the medication was becoming too hard. He was barely holding himself together and so far he hadn’t even started work, hadn’t even begun to face the consequences of his colossal and comprehensive fuck-ups from the night before.

Physically he was a wreck. Yesterday’s aching muscles had stiffened overnight until now painful. Insufficient rest had denied them a chance to heal, to recover. On top of this, a state of near constant anxiety and nervous tension had combined with the lack of sleep to produce a distressing, throbbing headache. There was almost no part of him that did not feel sore in some way.

Mentally he was faring even worse. His nerves were shot to pieces. He felt a deep seated sense of self-loathing, inwardly directed disgust and fury for his failures, for his screw-ups. Yet worse than this was the miserable loneliness that had settled across his melancholy heart. Burdensome, heavy, it sapped him of his strength, of the will to keep going.

In just one short night he had managed to completely ruin the only friendships he had managed to develop since coming to this wretched town, one after the other. Now there was no one left. He had no one to talk to, no one to share his problems with, but he did have one thing. He did have the drugs, right there in his pocket.

Part of his brain reminded him that he had only brought them this morning as a precaution, as insurance against things getting worse. However, other parts of him whispered that this was just an excuse. Once he had torn that pill free from the others he was always going to take it, they told him. It wouldn’t be fair not to take it now. He had practically promised it to himself. Why break a promise? May as well take it now anyway rather than later. What good is later? Why not just take it? It would help. Make things better. Making things ...

“Blake?”

A hand on his shoulder caused him to flinch and to shrug it off violently.

“Whoa there buddy!” Matt’s jovial voice and sunny face appeared right beside him. He held both hands high in mock surrender. “Peace man ... er ... what are you doing?” he asked.

“N-Nothing ...” Blake stuttered, quickly removing his hand from his pocket.

“You gonna go in there? Or just stand out here and stare at the door a while longer?”

“I-I ... thought I forgot something ... for a minute ... but I didn’t,” Blake fumbled unconvincingly, embarrassment burning across his face.

Matt smiled and ran a hand through his short dark hair.

“Er ... okay,” he said. “See you inside.”

He walked around Blake, bounding up the handful of steps and into the shop.

Blake reached down again and caressed the packet of meds from the outside of his shorts, just to make sure it was still there, that it hadn’t fallen out. Then he took a deep breath to steel himself and followed Matt inside.

The first thing he saw when he entered was Nats and Vicky looking at him, guiltily and then suddenly pulling apart. Nats seemed to become enthralled by the booking ledger on the counter and Vicky began ostensibly studying the contents of the glass cabinet nearby.

Blake cringed inwardly at their unconvincing behaviour. They had obviously just been talking about him. Despite the nerves this gave him, he decided to ignore the behaviour and to pretend that everything was normal. Except that normal would mean he should be going over to Nats right now, to say ‘hello’. Suddenly, that seemed an impossible ask.

He reached down to touch the contents of his pocket again. Maybe it was time? He wasn’t going to last the day anyway. Not like this. May as well take it now ...

Fortunately, a couple of tourists chose that moment to enter the shop and Blake was upon them like a used car salesman. He greeted them enthusiastically, asked about their plans for the day and then led them over to the gear they would need to hire for their dives.

He knew he should be dealing with Nats first, pulling her aside to have a talk to her before things started to get too busy. However, he wasn’t ready for that just yet, he decided. After all, he had to help the tourists first.

Twenty minutes dragged by and neither of them had acknowledged each other’s presence yet. Clearly, she was avoiding him too and Blake grew more and more uneasy as he realised that he was going to have to be the one to initiate conversation. He had been hoping that Nats, being the more socially skilled and sane of them, would take it upon herself to fix everything. But clearly she wasn’t going to be doing that. It would have to be him.

Blake began to debate the merits of taking his meds now, so they could take effect before he had to summon up the courage to talk to Nats, but Vicky interrupted this train of thought, hollering for everyone to gather around for a briefing.

She first explained that Jill had taken the day off, leaving her in charge. Next she began assigning tasks for the day. Her boyfriend, Matt, would be skippering. She and Nats would be dive masters for the day. That left only Blake.

“I thought you could look after the shop today Blake,” she suggested, surreptitiously sharing a quick glance with Nats.

Blake caught the look and could tell this had been prearranged between them. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest, but then became gripped by a sudden resolve to fix things with Nats. Now, before she left for the day. Meds or no meds.

He didn’t want to have to face her of course. The very idea was sending his already anxious mind into overdrive. But he was going to be anxious either way. He had been anxious all day and all the night before too. What he needed was relief from anxiety. To do that, he needed to tackle at least one of its current sources. Facing up to Nats was bad, but sitting around in the shop all day waiting to face up to her when she gets back would be even worse.

Or ... he could just take the drugs? That would bring him relief!

Reflexively he touched the packet again, but then shook his head to say ‘no’. If only to the voices in his own head.

He waited until Vicky had stopped talking and then watched as Nats, pointedly ignoring him, left the shop to pack things onto the trailer outside. Against every instinct in his body, every feeling in his chest, every screaming voice in his head, he followed her outside and managed to get her attention.

“M-morning Nats,” he stuttered, putting on what he hoped looked like a convincing smile.

“Er ... h-hi ...” she responded.

He had never heard her sound so hesitant before. She was always so sure of herself, so confident. But it didn’t make him feel any better. It only seemed to make him feel worse.

“H-how was last night?” he asked and then visibly winced as he replayed those words to himself.

Could he be any more insensitive?

“What?” she asked, seeming incredulous. Her skin flushed red, approaching the colour of her freckles.

“I mean! I ... um ...” he fumbled around hopelessly for the right words to say. “I didn’t mean ...”

“Oh ... then don’t worry about that ...” she interjected, seeming equally unable to form words or to keep eye contact.

“I hope we are still going out to that restaurant?” he proffered.

She glanced up at that, confused, hopeful look to her big brown eyes.

“As friends!” he quickly added upon noting her expression, abruptly raising his voice to almost a shout.

“Oh,” was all she said.

“T-to meet ... your friends ... and you know ... be friends ... and stuff ... well not other stuff ... just that ... really ...”

She quickly looked down again and he could feel himself trembling as a swirl of inner criticism circled inside his head. Once again he was fucking things up on an epic scale. Could anyone possibly come up with lines worse than this to say?

“S-sure ...” she muttered, stumbling a little. “Um ... not ... not tonight, but ... yeah ... another time.”

“Great! That’s ... er ... that’s great.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They nodded at each other for a while, avoiding direct eye contact.

“I’ll just ...” he said, pointing over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said turning back to what she was doing.

He quickly turned around and once he was out of eyesight, screwed up his face with distaste and embarrassment, before beating a hasty retreat back to the shop.

He didn’t try to broach things with her again and she didn’t come anywhere near him for the rest of that morning. He felt relieved when Vicky finally filed the tourists onto the bus and he was left all alone in the shop.

He trudged over to the glass counter and collapsed on the chair heavily thinking to himself:

Shit.

***

For the most part, taking care of the shop had been quiet and dull, but Blake wasn’t complaining. He found it soothing, calming. His body had reached its limits anyway and he could no longer sustain the nervous energy that had been keeping him going. He was just too tired for that. So instead, as the day progressed, muscles slowly unwound and aches faded until finally he could relax. After some lunch and plenty to drink his headache had died down too and by late afternoon he was feeling exhausted, but on the whole, better.

He still reached down to his pocket every now and then, to check that the medication was still there, but he felt less tempted to take it now. Its presence was comforting, reassuring, but no longer critical, no longer calling to him.

He slumped heavily on his chair behind the counter, but was careful to keep an ear out for the radio in the other room. Depending on the weather conditions and the dive sites Matt had chosen for the day, the boat could be heading back at any time between now and in a couple of hours. It was probably a bit too soon right now, but he needed to be ready to answer the radio all the same.

Despite the shop being fairly quiet for most of the day, there had been enough bookings to ensure tomorrow’s diving would go ahead as scheduled. All up there were eight divers booked, six of whom Blake had arranged himself that day.

His first customers had arrived shortly after midday, interrupting him from his brooding over Nats. They were a trio of Italian girls, student backpackers living out of a van. None of them spoke English very well, so it took a great deal of effort to go through the diving rates with them and to explain what everything cost. They were friendly though and very keen, so he managed to muddle through without too much stress.

After they had booked, they spent a while perusing the shop, pointing excitedly at the photos of the whale sharks on the walls. One of the girls, dark hair, dark eyes and bright smile flashing, pointed to a photo above Blake’s head and asked him something he didn’t understand. He tried to explain that they were out of season to see whale sharks, but this only made her screw up her face in confusion. He settled on telling her ‘no’ and she seemed to understand this, as she looked disappointed. The three of them shopped for a while, but they didn’t buy anything.

Half-an-hour or so later another group of tourists arrived, four middle aged Germans. One of them spoke excellent English so booking them in was no trouble. Only three of them would be diving, but the fourth would come along for the day anyway.

With the two that were already booked-in it was looking to be a full day tomorrow, with probably enough divers to break them into a couple of groups.

Blake was pondering over this when a rowdy young couple burst in through the front door, giggling and carrying on. They were playing some kind of game which appeared to involve tickling, squealing and lots of unnecessary body contact. The kind of sickly sweet antics ‘new’ couples get up to.

They made for a good-looking young couple too, he quickly noticed.

The girl was slim and pretty with dark blue eyes and long, brown hair tied back in a pony tail. She was dressed in a pale yellow tank top and cut-off white shorts, which showed off her tanned smooth skin. She was definitely the eye-catching type, with her refined features and killer smile of pearly white teeth.

In spite of this, it was more the guy that drew Blake’s attention, another good-looking sort. He was about six foot tall, nicely proportioned, with pale blue eyes and a striking smile. He had light-brown hair, fashioned in that ‘bed-head messy’ way, deliberately styled, but supposed to look wild and unkept. On his fingers were an assortment of rings and he also had an eyebrow piercing and a dark-coloured metal chain around his neck. He was wearing an oversized singlet, gaping at the sides so as to display his athletic chest whenever he lifted muscular arms to reach for her.

Blake’s eyes followed the shapes of that body compulsively, until doing so set-off a familiar painful twinge in his gut. He quickly looked away as he became aware of these feelings and focused instead on suppressing them, on blocking out the images of the handsome guy and his chiselled body. It would do no good to start freaking out right now, to start obsessing over body-image stuff.

However, the couple were making their way over to him, so he couldn’t avoid them. He took a deep breath and stood up from behind the counter.

“Hey. How are you guys going?”

“Oh!” the girl exclaimed after seeing him. “I didn’t see ya there!”

She quickly batted away the guy’s hands and took a moment to straighten herself. He let go of her and turned to regard Blake as well, a strange sort of sparkle lighting his eyes, one that Blake found inexplicably unsettling.

“When did you guys arrive?” Blake asked, launching into his standard shop assistant small-talk.

The girl started to answer him, but the good-looking guy quickly spoke over her, putting himself in front and leaning over the counter so as to make the muscles of his arms bulge.

“Flew in from Perth, just a couple of hours ago actually,” he said, flashing Blake an unnerving smile of perfect white teeth.

“O-oh ...” Blake stumbled, feeling uncomfortable. “H-how long you guys staying before you have to head home?” He didn’t need to ask them where home was, he could tell they were Australian. They probably lived in Perth.

Again the girl started to say something, but once more the guy spoke over her, this time making her huff at him in annoyance.

“Just a couple of weeks, I’m off uni for the summer, but heading back after Christmas.”

Blake found it difficult to maintain eye contact with the guy. His stare was intense and his good-looks the kind that provoked Blake’s insecurities and set his insides crawling.

“G-great ... um ... well here’s our rates,” he said handing over a printed copy of the shop’s brochure. “You can see it get’s cheaper the more you book, so if you guys are here for a couple of weeks maybe you wanna book a few days in advance?”

The guy’s face furrowed with confusion, drawing Blake’s attention to the silver ring dangling from his manicured eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Um ... you are here to do some diving, right?” Blake asked, hesitantly.

“This is a dive shop Derrick,” the girl said flatly, rolling her eyes at him. “Don’t you listen to anything I say?”

“Oh!” the guy she’d called ‘Derrick’ exclaimed, looking around him as if for the first time. “Of course! Um ... Yes! Well ... actually ... no. I don’t really know how to dive. Is it difficult?”

The girl sniggered and Derrick was soon joining her too. Blake tried his best to be polite and patient, but he couldn’t help giving them a bit of a funny look. Why were they in a dive shop then?

“We’re not here to dive,” the girl explained, pushing Derrick aside.

“Oh ... well ... what are you guys here for? Maybe I can point you in the right direction?” Blake asked, trying to be helpful. He was still finding his feet here in Kulibari Bay, but by now he knew about most of the other tourist shops and the kinds of activities they offered.

“I’m here because she needs my professional assessment of someone.” Derrick said, emphasising the word ‘professional’ with hand-gestured quotation marks.

“Derrick!” the girl shrieked, looking scandalised. “You most certainly are NOT here for that! You make stuff up, I swear. And I am pretty damn sure I don’t need you opinion on ...” she glanced over at Blake for a moment, paused, and then finishing with, “... on that!”

Derrick laughed and then she was laughing too, sharing in their little in-joke. Then they started another round of that couples game they had been playing, much to Blake’s chagrin. He was uncomfortable enough without having to bear witness to straight people pawing at each other and acting all cutesy in front of him.

“Stop it! Behave yourself or I’ll send you home!” she declared without a hint of being serious about that. She then turned to Blake and in another voice entirely said, “We don’t need assistance thanks.”

“I do!” Derrick said over her head.

“Derrick!”

“What?”

“Stop it!”

The two of them carried on like that for a bit and then both of them burst out laughing again, at what, Blake had no idea. He was grateful when she finally dragged the guy away from the counter, although that feeling faded as he noted they were walking further into the shop, instead of leaving by the front door.

They continued to carry on like this, arm in arm, trying on hats and sunglasses and doing silly things like balancing seashells on their heads, or in Derrick’s case, his nose. Blake decided he would go check the radio in the back room, mostly to put some distance between himself and the irritating couple. He wasn’t worried that they would steal something. They seemed too loud and too annoying to be shoplifters.

He casually wandered away from their noise and into the back room, checking that the radio was switched on. It was of course, which didn’t really give him much to do in there, except hide.

There was crash and another shriek from the other room and Blake started to worry that he was going to have to ask them to leave. Jill had gone over almost every imaginable detail of the business, but she hadn’t covered having to throw customers out of the shop. Blake wondered how on earth he would go about it.

He moved over to the doorway between the shop and the backroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching them pointedly. Maybe they would see him staring and get the hint?

Then he cringed at how pathetic he was being. He was so hopelessly non-confrontational, it was embarrassing.

Obsessing over his failings such that he was, he barely noticed the back door to the shop opening, despite being only a few feet away. When he did hear something, he spun around and abruptly found himself almost face-to-face with a familiar set of cool blue eyes.

Haze was standing there motionless, looking as shocked and as dazed as Blake imagined he must be looking back at him.

“H-hi ...” Blake stuttered, mouth forming the words before his brain had caught up.

“Um ... hey ...” Haze responded softly, before quickly looking down at his feet, awkwardly.

Freed from the paralysing effect of those eyes, Blake could now scrutinise Haze carefully and he quickly sensed that something was wrong.

Haze looked worse than Blake had ever seen him. He couldn’t have slept a wink last night judging by the dark bruises under his eyes and the exhausted expression on his face. His normally tanned smooth skin looked somehow paler, blotchy and clammy with sweat. However, most telling of all were his bloodshot eyes, dull, vacant with a kind of ‘lost’ look about them.

Haze looked lost. Sad and alone and completely lost. Driven to the edge. Desperate.

Blake felt an ache in his heart and more than anything in the world he wanted to reach out to the other boy and to comfort him. To give him a hug, to tell him everything would be okay. He wanted to bring back the Haze he knew, even the introverted version if necessary. The Haze in front of him now was just too much to bear. It made Blake hurt inside just to look at him.

He felt his hand instinctively rise and reach out to touch the other boy.

“I didn’t think you’d be back yet ...” Haze interrupted, mumbling into his chest, unable to look up.

Blake felt his heart sink at this and he quickly withdrew his hand before Haze could see what he was doing. Haze obviously hadn’t meant to run into him. He must have come to the shop now, because he’d thought Blake would be out on the boat. He obviously wouldn’t want a hug from Blake either.

Not now, not ever, for that matter.

“I’m looking after the shop today,” Blake said, unable to staunch the bitterness in his voice, the accusation.

“Oh,” was all Haze said, as he wringed his hands restlessly.

An awkward moment passed.

“I’ll ... leave you alone,” Blake mumbled sadly and then he turned around.

“No!”

Haze grabbed him by the arm, just above the elbow, sending a jolt of electricity up Blake’s shoulder, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He turned back and stared at the hand that was having such a profound effect on him, watching with fascination the fingers that had fastened around the skin of his bicep.

Haze followed his gaze downward and then quickly let go as if he’d just burnt his fingers, eyes wide, expression mortified.

“I mean ... I ... wanted to speak with ya ...” he said, seeming to recover a bit and then go back to wringing his hands, to looking at his feet.

Blake felt a pleasurable bubble of hope rising in his chest, but it was quickly swamped by confusion and doubt. How could Haze want to speak with him? He hadn’t thought Blake would even be here.

Haze glanced upwards and seemed to be able to read the doubtful expression on Blake’s face.

“I really did wanna speak with ya ... but I ... I thought I’d have more time to figure out ... to plan ... I mean ... I-I just wasn’t expectin’ ya to be here ... right now ... that’s all.”

Blake nodded, trying not to think too much and to just let Haze speak. However, Haze seemed to have nothing else to offer and so Blake, ever the need to fill the silence, spoke up instead.

“Well, here I am.”

It didn’t sound funny, it sounded stupid.

“Y-yeah,” Haze stumbled.

There was another awkward pause during which Blake began to study Haze’s body language when no words seem to come from the boy. Haze appeared restless, unhappy, nervous and tired ... but he was not nothing. He was not masked, he was not introverted. Haze was being real. That counted for something. Whatever he was trying to say it had to really mean something to him. That filled Blake with cautious hope.

Maybe everything wasn’t completely fucked between them?

As he watched, a resolute expression seemed to fall over Haze’s face all at once. He seemed to have come to a decision. He raised his head high, took a deep break and looked Blake straight in the eye.

“Blake ...” he said, forcefully, sending a flutter through Blake’s chest.

Why did that always have to happen whenever Haze said his name?

“I just wanna say ... about last night ... I ...”

Again there was a silent pause as nothing else seemed to come out of Haze’s mouth. However, this time something was different. Haze’s expression had abruptly changed. What little colour he had left drained out of his face and he went from looking apprehensive to downright horrified.

“P-Patty?” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

“HAZE!”

The shriek came from behind Blake, causing him to jump about ten feet into the air. He spun around in time to see a blur of yellow and white push past him and launch herself at Haze, wrapping her arms around his chest and kicking her legs into the air.

“Haze!” she cried again, pulling back for a moment to regard him. She screeched and shrieked and laughed with delight before launching herself at him again, hugging him around the waist and nuzzling his neck this time.

Blake felt his eyes narrow and his insides twist with an angry kind of bitterness and resentment. It was the same annoying, girl with the ponytail. What the hell did she think she was doing to Haze?

“Hey Patty,” Haze said in a strained voice as they swayed back and forth like that for a while.

“It’s so good to see ya!” she cried over his shoulder.

“I-I thought ya were comin’ on Wednesday ...” Haze stumbled.

Blake could clearly see Haze’s face over her shoulder. He seemed stunned and unable to gather his wits. None too happy either.

“Surprise!” Patty shrieked, pulling back again. She took hold of his hands in her own and swung them from side to side enthusiastically.

“W-wow” Haze blundered.

He didn’t seem to be participating in her physical gestures of affection, but neither was he stopping her, Blake noticed.

“Well don’t sound too pleased to see me,” she miffed, voice sounding unimpressed. Her huge smile and giggles took the bite out of her words though.

“I-I am h-happy to see ya ... just shocked,” Haze explained, putting on a smile that Blake took great satisfaction in identifying as fake.

Haze had managed to gather himself together now and Blake could tell that he was back to his usual masked form. Smiling and friendly, but fake and distant. Gone was the sadness, the restlessness, the ‘lost’ look. Gone was real Haze.

“Derrick finished his exams early so I thought I’d surprise ya!”

“That’s great, where ya stayin?”

“Oh ... at mum and dad’s, but I reckon ya could convince me to stay at the resort tonight ... if ya got room?”

She walked two fingers up his chest as she said this. He glanced at them momentarily, but didn’t appear to react otherwise.

“I’ll ask mum, but I’m sure that’ll be fine. It’s quiet ‘round now, as ya know.”

Blake glared at her as she touched Haze. He was imagining himself grabbing hold of that ponytail and yanking her away from him. Couldn’t she tell Haze didn’t want her touching him?

But then, just as Blake was thinking this, he noticed a change come over Haze, ever so slightly. For a brief moment, the blue-eyed boy seemed to relax and his smile changed from fake to genuine as he initiated a hug of his own this time.

“I am glad to see ya, Patty,” he said and Blake felt a stab of pain in his chest as he heard the sincerity behind those words.

“I am just havin’ a really shitty week,” he added, sighing.

“Ya look like shit too,” she said, pulling back again, frowning.

His expression lightened in response, but Blake got the feeling the mask was back now.

“Don’t worry, but babe,” she said, touching his chest again. “I’ll make everything better.”

She closed the distance between them and then kissed him gently on the lips.

Blake momentarily forgot himself and almost growled out loud. How dare this hussy kiss Haze when she’d only just been all over some other guy? What a bitch, slut, slag, wench from hell, who’s ...

“Gross huh?”

For the third time in almost as many minutes Blake jumped a little as he realised someone was right behind him. He spun around to discover he was being watched by the ‘other guy’ in question. Derrick smiled at him and then mimed putting a finger down his throat in mock disgust.

Blake opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped as a thought occurred to him.

He peered closely at Derrick, as if only now seeing him properly for the first time. It wasn’t that Derrick was acting different, it was just that now he wasn’t arm-in-arm with Patty the same body language told a different story. What had appeared to Blake before as ‘playful’ and ‘flirty’ now seemed ‘theatrical’ and ... well ... kind of ‘campy’.

Then Blake did the mental arithmetic.

Athletic body, plus, funky hair cut, plus, skimpy clothes, plus, too much jewellery, minus, unsightly hair between the eyebrows ... equals?

Gay.

“So ... I was thinking ... maybe you could teach me to dive?” Derrick suggested, smiling that same unnerving sort of smile from before, however, now it seemed even more unnerving to Blake.

“Er ... um ... y-yeah ... we do cert. courses ...”

Blake was fumbling, he knew he was, but now he’d figured out Derrick, he didn’t seem able to talk properly.

Good-looking guys made him nervous.

Good-looking gay guys were totally incapacitating.

“Do you teach the courses?” Derrick asked, straight faced.

“Derrick!” Patty shrieked and for the first time Blake found himself happy to hear her voice.

“What?” he asked, looking over at her innocently.

Patty moved to join them, tugging Haze along, since she seemed incapable of letting go of him.

“Behave!” she chided, giggling. “I said ya could come only if ya behaved!”

“I wanna learn to dive,” Derrick said, lifting up his arms in mock indignation.

She waved him off and pulled Blake aside. “Don’t worry, he’s like that with everyone,” she explained.

That made sense to Blake. Why the hell would someone like Derrick be flirting with someone like him anyway? Derrick was almost as good-looking as Haze. He was well out of Blake’s league.

“H-hi ... I’m Blake,” Blake said, deciding to take the opportunity to introduce himself to Patty, if for no other reason than to escape Derrick’s unsettling gaze.

“Oh! Blake! Hi! I’m Patty,” she recalled his name as if they’d met before. “Haze hasn’t stopped talkin’ about ya since ya arrived!”

Blake felt as if a trapdoor had just opened up beneath him and he’d dropped ten stories.

“R-really?” he asked, ashamed of how hopeful his voice sounded. He was practically begging for it to be true.

He looked towards Haze for confirmation, but his heart sank when he saw the other boy violently shaking his head. Haze looked mortified, but only for a moment, the mask quickly slipped back into place.

“We talk once a week Patty,” he said, giving a phony laugh. “Blake’s only been here a few weeks!”

Ouch.

“Ergh ...” Patty signed, turning back to Blake again. “Don’t mind my ill-mannered boyfriend, Blake. He’s been really happy that ya started at the shop.”

Blake looked at his feet, a tangle of emotions clawing at his insides. He wanted to believe that Haze would talk about him, but he found Haze’s expression to be far more convincing than her kind words.

Anyway, she’d completely undone her kindness by the use of the words ‘my’ and ‘boyfriend’.

“I’m Derrick,” her friend interrupted, holding out his hand and fixing Blake with another intense gaze.

“B-Blake,” Blake responded nervously, shaking Derrick’s hand.

Derrick held on for a little longer than seemed necessary.

“Derrick this is Haze,” Patty said, completing the introductions. “You know, Derrick? From uni?”

“Yeah ... hi,” Haze said, shaking hands with Derrick as well.

Blake watched carefully for any reaction Haze might have to shaking hands with a gay guy. However, then it occurred to Blake that perhaps Haze didn’t know Derrick was gay? Maybe Patty hadn’t told him? Maybe Patty didn’t know either?

In fact, maybe Derrick wasn’t gay and this was just another one of Blake’s fanciful narratives? Hadn’t he learned his lesson about this yet?

Just then the radio crackled into life and Blake found himself almost shouting.

“I’ll get it!”

He then turned to face Haze who had said exactly the same thing at the same time and in the same tone of voice. They shared a look for a moment, but Blake seized the initiative, pushing past Haze and Patty and quickly moving over to the radio at the far end of the room.

He grabbed the microphone, but kept his attention on the others. The loud crackle of Matt’s voice over the speaker prevented him from hearing what they were saying, but he could tell that Patty was still introducing Derrick to her boyfriend.

Blake felt a stab of jealousy at the thought.

‘Boyfriend’. Haze was Patty’s boyfriend.

He knew this fact already and yet it hadn’t seemed real until now. He’d been obsessing over Haze so much that he’d glossed over him being someone else’s boyfriend. A girl someone at that. A girlfriend. Girlfriends and boyfriends. That’s what they were. Straight.

How it hurt inside to think about that, to watch as her hands traced across his back, her head come to rest on his shoulder.

“You there Blake? Over.”

He knew he had no right to be feeling like this. Haze had always had a girlfriend. It was one of the first facts Blake had learned about him. He always knew this, so why did it feel so bad?

Why did it feel like his whole world had just come crashing down? What was this stinging at the corners of his eyes, this pain clutching at his heart? Why was it so hard to breathe all of a sudden, to swallow properly?

“Blake? You copy? Over?”

He reached down and clutched at the pill through the pocket of his shorts. He was definitely going to take the drugs now. This was it, the final straw. He was exhausted and already emotionally fucked-up and now this? Now her?

“Blake?”

Blake wanted to scream at Haze, to heap blame on him, to accuse him and to accuse her. But even if he had the guts to say something out loud he knew he really couldn’t. He didn’t have the right to. Haze hadn’t done anything wrong. Blake knew deep down that this had always been the case. He had imagined something between them, that day on the bike. It had seemed ridiculous then and it seemed utterly ridiculous now.

Yet he could not stop staring at Haze, willing him to do something. To throw her hands off him, to tell her ‘go away’ like he had screamed those words at Blake the night before.

Then maybe she would be one hurting, hurting as much as he was hurting now, as much as he had been hurting all last night and for most of the day. Maybe then she would know what it was like to feel this bad, to feel so bad that you’d rather feel no emotions at all, ever again.

Haze looked up and for a moment Blake’s breath hitched as he wondered if perhaps Haze could read his mind. But Haze just pointed at the radio besides him.

“Blake? You there man? Come on pick up already! Over.”

He’d been listening the radio, but for some reason he only now seemed to hear Matt’s voice. Spurred into action, he lifted the microphone to his mouth.

“Blake here. That you Matt?” he asked, voice a little unsteady. “Over.”

“Yeah man, where’ve you been? Listen we’re at the dock, bus is still here so you just hang tight we’ll be loaded and back there asap. Over.”

“Okay. See ya soon. Over and out.”

Blake put the microphone down and went back to watching the trio of joyous, laughing people, trying not to die inside when he saw Patty embrace her boyfriend.

He then quickly fished the pill out of his shorts, bursting the foil, before taking the whole thing at once. He did not bother with halves this time, he wanted the full effect. For good measure, he held it between his teeth and then bit down, crushing it into powder. It would hit faster that way. Next he leaned over the back sink, took a sip of water from the tap and then swallowed.

Now all he had to do was survive until the meds kicked in. Then he wouldn’t feel this bad anymore. Everything would be better soon.

He didn’t want to risk joining the others, not when he was feeling this flaky, so instead he pretended to use the staff toilet behind him. He shut the door, put down the seat and then sat there, clutching at his temples, willing the drugs to work.

After he began to feel like he had been in there too long, he flushed the unused toilet and decided that his next distraction should be to prepare for the returning tourists. He left the bathroom and gathered a couple of the huge plastic tubs. He carried them over to the back door, holding them high so as to obscure his face.

“I’ll help,” offered Haze, his voice appearing from nowhere.

Blake noticed that he’d separated from Derrick and Patty, who were back to playing their games again in the front of the shop.

“No,” Blake said firmly, much more firmly than he intended to, judging by the look on Haze’s face.

“Um ... I mean ... it’s your day off right? I can manage.”

Haze nodded a little, eyes downcast.

“Listen ... um ... Blake?”

“What?!” Blake barked, unable to hide the frustration in his voice.

Why the fuck was Haze always doing that? Using his name like that? Bring up those feelings? Making Blake feel all of the stuff he knew he shouldn’t feel ... knew he couldn’t feel, especially not now, not anymore. He couldn’t handle it, Haze was driving him insane. Couldn’t Haze see what he was doing to him? Couldn’t he at least wait a little longer? Until the drugs started working?

Haze lifted his head and gave Blake a sad look. Worse, he gave Blake a real look. It didn’t help make those feelings go away. It only made them worse. It was hurting too much now and Blake blinked angrily at the tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes.

“Um ... look ...” Haze stumbled, “I’m ... I’m ...”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, Blake silently pleaded.

He really couldn’t handle an apology. He knew now that he didn’t deserve one, not from Haze. Really, it should be the other way around. Blake knew that he should be apologising to Haze, for the inappropriate thoughts and feelings he had for him. Haze would be disgusted if he knew what was really going on inside Blake’s head. Far from apologising he would tell him to ‘go away’ again. Blake knew that was what he really deserved.

“I’m sorry about last night Blake. Really sorry.”

Blake managed to catch half of the choked sob and look away before Haze could see the tears fall. He nodded quickly, hoping that would suffice, not daring to open is mouth for fear of what his voice would sound like.

“I ... are ... are ya okay?”

Haze’s voice sounded concerned but Blake didn’t dare look up to check. He just squeezed his eyes tight and used every form of control he could muster to suffocate all emotion. Hold back everything he was feeling for just a bit longer.

Haze could do it, why couldn’t he?

“I ... didn’t mean to ...”

“It’s fine,” Blake choked quickly, too briefly to reveal much of his feelings he hoped.

He then pushed past, before Haze could say anything else and took the plastic tubs outside.

Once outside he dumped them on the ground, roughly, feeling his eyes sting with tears, a breathlessness rising in his chest. He started taking shorter and shorter breaths and his hands were trembling.

He was losing control, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Not here, not now. He couldn’t have a panic attack here, in front of everyone. He just had to distract himself for a bit longer. Just until the drugs could kick in. Not long now, they usually worked fast.

He uncurled the hose and attached it to the tap near the back door. Next he started filling the tubs with fresh water, ready for rinsing the diving gear when the tourists returned.

Before long he saw the mini-bus driving up to the shop and over towards where he was standing. He felt a little relieved for the approaching people. They would help to create a buffer between himself and Haze, between himself and Haze’s girlfriend too. Not to mention her hot gay friend.

At least that is what he thought at first. However, then he saw Nats get off the bus and his insides took another plunge as despairingly he watched her ignore him, purposely.

He lowered his eyes and mentally begged for the drugs to start working. Now. NOW!

Then there was another scream and he jumped anxiously, his nerves already shattered.

When he glanced up he saw Nats and Patty exchanging shrieks and squeals of delight as they gave each other hugs. Haze and Derrick had come outside to say hello too.

Blake desperately prayed no one would notice him there, as Derrick was introduced to Nats and next both he and Patty met Vicky and Matt.

Blake held onto the hose with both hands to stop it from trembling and from making a splashing sound that might attract attention. He was close to the point of breakdown when he felt a wave of sensation inside his skull. A heaviness was building and he felt his grip on the hose slacken even as the hose stopped shaking. Exhaustion was starting to take hold of his limbs. They felt heavy, but relaxed.

Not much longer now, he thought to himself. Almost there.

The tubs were soon full of water, but Blake hesitated for a while about what to do next. The tap was near the back door, near the others. He didn’t want to go over there and risk attracting attention to himself, not quite yet. However, the tubs started overflowing and the precious water was soaking into the desert sand.

Deciding he had no other choice, Blake kept his eyes on his feet and tried to quickly move towards the tap without drawing attention to himself, without looking at anyone. Loud voices and plenty of chatter all around him, he thought he had succeeded and reached out to turn it off.

But before he could place his hand over the metal bar he saw that another hand was there already. Blake raised his head, following that hand upwards, across a muscular arm and over sculpted shoulders until he was face-to-face with Derrick.

Derrick was smiling at him again, but somehow it was a different kind of smile compared to those that came before. Without an audience of other people Derrick seemed different now, less confident and almost coy.

“Th-thanks” Blake stuttered.

“No problem,” Derrick said smiling, ducking his head a little.

Blake took a moment to consider just how good-looking Derrick was and felt relieved to discover that this did not upset him. He could appreciate Derrick without feeling bad, without feeling anything really.

Finally.

This is what he’d been waiting for. The transition from nervous wreck to drugged-out zombie was complete. Finally he was feeling nothing. Blankness.

Wondrous freedom from feeling.

“Do you need a hand?” Derrick asked him.

“No that’s okay.” Blake responded, noting with approval how firm and calm he sounded.

Derrick seemed disappointed, but then the two of them were interrupted by the others calling out.

“What do ya say guys?”

“What?” Blake asked, turning to see that everyone was now facing him and Derrick.

Normally, being the centre of attention like this would make him anxious, but now it didn’t seem to bother him at all.

Vicky rolled her eyes at them. “Let’s finish-up quickly and all go to the pub!”

“Sure!” said Derrick excitedly.

“Yay!” cried Patty.

Matt and Vicky were looking happy too, as was Nats although she was avoiding Blake’s eyes.

Only Haze was unreadable, he was back to being introverted and masked, Blake noted.

Fuck knows what he was thinking.

And who cares anyway?

“What about you Blake?”

Blake could tell he was facing peer pressure, but he was feeling the opposite of pressured right now. He was feeling tired and exhausted, but relaxed and at ease.

Nothing really mattered anyway, so why not go to the pub?

“Sure,” he said after a moment, and when Vicky and Patty shrieked with delight he noticed that he no longer jumped. He was too chilled to be jumpy now.

He looked over at Nats then and she finally met his eyes, giving him a questioning look. She seemed to be accusing him, thinking something like: ‘I thought you didn’t like going to the pub?’ Blake felt a little guilty about that, but not much, not really. What’s the drama? It’s just a pub, just a few drinks.

When he looked over at Derrick, he saw him wink and smile at him.

But so what? The guy’s a flirt.

When he thought about the potential for mixing drugs with alcohol?

No biggie. Medication always comes with those warnings and everyone ignores them.

And when Haze said nothing at all, and didn’t even look at him, Blake got the best reaction of all. He didn’t feel pain. He felt nothing.