A New Life - 21. Chapter 21: Date

Upon waking the next morning, the first thing Blake did was reach for his phone to check if Haze had responded to his text message. After blinking the sleep from his tired, bleary eyes he tried to contain his disappointment as once again the usual backdrop to his phone came to life, but nothing more. No new texts. Nothing from Haze.

To be fair, Blake quickly reasoned with himself, it wasn’t as if his text last night actually required a response. It hadn’t even really prompt for one. All he’d written in the end was: ‘this is my number, Blake’. Originally that had extended to: ‘thanks for your number, here is mine, Blake’, but then he’d decided thanking Haze sounded weird and so he’d deleted that part. After much debate.

Truth be known, he’d deleted lots of other things too, dozens of messages in fact, some of which had spanned several texts. He’d agonised over what to send until long after it was likely Haze would be awake to read it, coming up with messages that later seemed crazy, desperate or embarrassing once re-read.

He didn’t have to send a message at all of course, but he’d wanted to make sure Haze had his number. That way, Haze could message him about today, when and where, stuff to bring, that sort of thing. Or maybe to cancel, if he was feeling too hung over.

Would Haze cancel?

He hadn’t seemed that drunk. But maybe a hangover would be a convenient excuse? So he could spend the day in bed instead. Or with Patty.

Blake felt his chest constrict at such a thought and he silently admonished himself for thinking it. It hadn’t even been a day since he’d promised to trust Haze more and already he was doubting the other boy. Doubting himself more than Haze really, but by extension he was also doubting Haze. He had to stop doing that. There were any number of reasons why Haze might not have read or felt the need to respond to such a simple text message. Dwelling over it would only make him anxious. More anxious, that is.

Still, Blake compulsively checked the old messages just in case he’d somehow missed a text from Haze, before dragging his aching body out of bed. He felt sore from the his run the night before and a little queasy from the midnight snack he’d ended up eating after skipping dinner had proven detrimental to his ability to sleep.

Or maybe that feeling was just his nervous excitement about today?

Unless Haze cancelled.

Quickly he checked the phone, but still nothing.

He showered next and made his breakfast, being sure to check several times that his phone was on and had reception.

Maybe Haze was still asleep?

Maybe the text didn’t go through? Sometimes that happened.

Then, at about 8am the phone finally rang, causing Blake, who had been holding it at the time, to jump in fright and to send the thing flying into the air. He snatched out his hand and managed to catch it after it’d bounced off his knee, but before it’d hit the floor. Luckily. He then quickly answered the call.

“H-Hello?”

“Blake? Where the bloody hell are ya?” a sharp feminine tone came down the line.

It was Jill’s voice and she did not sound happy.

“I ... um ... I-I didn’t think ... I thought there weren’t any bookings?” Blake stammered, as his heart began to race.

He realised that he’d taken Haze’s word for that and hadn’t even thought to check, let alone turn up at the shop this morning.

“Hmm ...” Jill growled down the phone. “How’d ya know that?”

“Um ... Haze told me?” Blake squeaked.

Jill huffed in response, sounding somewhat disappointed.

“And if Haze told ya to jump of the harbour bridge would ya do that?” she retorted, childishly.

Blake wondered about that for a moment, supposing to himself that it probably depended on how sexy Haze looked when giving the instruction, but he quickly stifled that train of thought and did his best to sound remorseful.

“Sorry, Jill. I should’ve checked with you first.”

“Exactly!” Jill agreed in a snappy tone of voice. “And ‘sides there’s other things to do round here ya know. Haze ain’t the boss, I am.”

“Do you want me to come now?” Blake asked, mentally praying she would answer ‘no’.

“No that’s alright mate,” she said, sounding a little calmer. “I probably woulda sent ya home anyway. But in future either show up or ring. Sometimes a whole bus load of tourists can show up first thing.”

It didn’t seem very likely to Blake that a bus load of tourists would turn up in the early hours of the morning in a remote desert town expecting to dive without a booking, but he wasn’t about to argue the point.

“Sure Jill. Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”

“Kay, well, I’ll let ya know about tomorrow. See ya.”

“Bye.”

Blake hung up and immediately began to wonder whether Haze had been trying to get through.

How long did that call last? A few minutes maybe? Surely Haze would try again?

He was really starting to worry now, even though he knew it would do him no good. He just had to wait for Haze to get up and to answer his text. Haze was probably still asleep, that’s all. He had been standing in this very room only about eight hours ago, after all. Hardly enough time to have changed his mind.

Surely?

Quick check of the phone, but still nothing.

Blake busied himself cleaning up his breakfast and then for good measure, he decided to give the kitchen a bit of a clean. It didn’t really need a clean, but it would keep him occupied until Haze called or texted.

Unless Haze didn’t get that text?

Maybe he would have to ring Haze himself?

Blake got even more anxious thinking about that prospect.

Then the phone rang again and he practically dived across the room, landing half on top of the table as he picked it up.

“Um ... Hello?” he answered, almost breathless with anticipation, elbows resting on the table.

“Hey Blake what’s up?” came a cheery feminine voice.

Nats.

Damn.

“Oh ... hi Nats,” he greeted, doing his best not to sound disappointed. “Nothing much.”

“Awesome! So what ya doin today? Did Jill ring ya? We ain’t going out ya know? No tourists.”

As usual she spoke at a million miles an hour, without pausing between questions.

“Oh ... yeah. She just rang me, I um ...” he paused then nervously, wondering whether Haze would want Nats to know about their plans. Haze was so very secretive, it was hard to tell, but it was probably best not to mention anything, not even to Nats.

“Er ... nothing. I’m not really doing anything today ... nothing at all,” he stammered, in a suddenly high pitched tone of voice.

Not that Nats seemed to notice.

“Great!” she responded eagerly. “Wanna drive to Bindalla with me and the girls?”

Blake scrunched his face up and cursed, resting his head against the wooden table.

“Um ... I can’t I ... um ... I’m busy,” he stumbled, wincing at how bad a lie that sounded even to his own ears.

“Ya just said ya had nothin’ planned?” Nats retorted flatly.

“I ... er ... forgot I had to um ... do something.”

“If this is about Ronnie and Becks, I swear they’ll be nice. They’re not pissy at ya anymore.”

“No, it’s not about them,” Blake responded, although he thought to himself that he probably would’ve found their company uncomfortable after getting drunk that night and embarrassing himself in front of them. “I just have some ... um ... chores to do.”

“Chores?” she wailed. “How can ya have chores to do on a day off? What chores? Ya haven’t been in town long enough for chores!”

“I’m ... I’m really sorry Nats, I just can’t.”

There a came a sound down the phone just then and after that Nats’s voice sounded slightly louder and clearer, as if she was covering the phone with her hand.

“Listen,” she said in a serious, low tone of voice. “What did we agree about this hidin’ away? Ya gotta get out more, man.”

Blake rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan.

“I know and you’re right,” he agreed reluctantly. “But just not today, I really can’t.”

Nats huffed down the phone, but seemed to be relenting.

“Next time ... I swear,” he pressed. “Just not today.”

“Oh fine,” she muttered, her voice returning to its normal tone. “Well the girls are waitin’ so I’ll see ya later. Look after yourself Blake.”

“Bye ... sorry!”

“Later.”

Again Blake checked his phone immediately after she’d hung up. No missed calls or messages, but he wasn’t even sure if his phone would tell him if Haze had rung while he was on another call. He couldn’t remember if that’d ever happen before with this phone.

The simple way to solve everything, of course, would be to ring Haze himself, but he just couldn’t do that. Ringing Haze, after last night? No he just couldn’t. Anyway he had made the first move already, he had sent that text. It was Haze’s turn to respond now.

Quick check of the phone, but still nothing.

Next Blake decided he should probably think about what he was going to wear. It always took him forever to choose and he wanted to be ready to leave as soon as Haze rang.

He went through his clean clothes and began to dismay that his ‘best’ clothes were all dirty. He tried on the only two t-shirts he had left and after agonising over the decision he decided on the older faded red t-shirt since he was a bit more comfortable in that one. He changed into his newer pair of board shorts and then braved the bathroom mirror, doing his best to focus on particular tasks, like cleaning his teeth, rather than give into his usual ‘checking’ temptations.

He fussed with his hair, his teeth and then began to scrutinise his skin carefully until he sensed a familiar panicky feeling. He then abandoned the tiny bathroom mirror and returned to the living room.

He began to pace then, muttering to himself and getting more and more worked up.

Maybe Haze was too embarrassed to call? After all, he felt too embarrassed to call Haze. Maybe the worse had happened? Maybe Haze did wake up sober and regretting everything that had happened between them?

Rapid breathing now, slight trembling of the arms too. Blake knew he was letting his anxiety get the better of him, he had to calm down.

He sat himself down on the couch and focused on slowing his breathing. He closed his eyes, but peeked one lid open now and then to check his phone. Minutes past and soon it was 9am and then 9.30 and then 10. Still nothing!

What time had Haze meant? He’d said ‘tomorrow’, maybe he meant ‘tomorrow afternoon’? Still he should be awake by now surely and at least responding to texts. Unless he didn’t check his phone that often. What kind of phone person was Haze anyway? Was he the type that took forever to answer text messages normally? Blake realised he had no idea.

Dark thoughts began to circle inside his head, as his increasingly anxious mind came up with more and more sinister reasons why Haze might not be responding.

Then at last, his phone chimed with a message. Blake picked it up anxiously and was thrilled to see four simple letters lighting up his screen.

Haze.

He quickly opened it.

‘Finally shes gone’, it read. ‘Head over bring swimmers mask and fins.’

Blake held the mobile to his chest for a moment and beamed, overwhelmed by that giddy, excited sensation. All dark thoughts were completely forgotten.

He briefly wondered what Haze had in mind for their day together, but put aside such thoughts and instead gathered what he needed and left the house as quickly as he could manage. He power-walked down the street, towel over one shoulder, fins and mask in the other hand, holding his fins high enough so that they wouldn’t drag across the dusty gravely road as he went.

It was then that he noticed something different in the air, something strange. It was hot, unusually hot even by Kulibari Bay’s standards. Humid as well, really humid. The air was completely still and the sun shone brightly.

By the time he’d arrived at Haze’s house he felt soaked through with sweat. He looked at the darkened wet patches under his arms and the splotches across his chest and stomach despairingly. Why did he have to wear the red t-shirt? What would Haze think?

He considered briefly whether he should go home and shower again, maybe wear that other, lighter coloured t-shirt, but he knew in this weather he would end up sweating no matter what he wore and he didn’t want to keep Haze waiting. So instead, he stood in the shade under the car-port of Haze’s home and tried to dry off with his towel as best he could.

With that done, he took a deep breath, made his way down the garden path and rang the door bell.

His insides twisted in unbearable anticipation as he heard movement in the house and saw a vague shape through the opaque glass circles of the front door.

Then the door opened and there was Haze, as stunning as ever in that oversized, off-white t-shirt again, the one with the low-cut neckline that showed off his tanned, sexy chest. Blake felt a not unpleasant leap in his chest as he marvelled at just how easy on the eyes Haze was.

Haze would never sweat. Or if he did it would still be sexy. Everything about Haze was sexy.

Except for the hair again today. Why did he have to comb it down like that? It looked silly.

“Hi,” Haze said, smiling shyly.

“Hi,” Blake responded, torn from his inner musing, somewhat dumbstruck and lost for words.

They paused there for a moment, smiling at each other, until Haze glanced over Blake’s shoulder with a slightly worried look.

“Come in,” he said, before quickly ushering Blake inside.

There was an awkward moment then, as they stood there in the hallway, exchanging nervous glances and uneasy laughs.

Blake was wondering how he was supposed greet Haze now. Should they shake hands? Hug? Or maybe even ... kiss? What was Haze expecting?

“You can leave ya fins there,” Haze said, breaking the uncomfortable silence and indicating a spot on the floor next to the door.

“Huh?” Blake found himself answering dumbly, before looking down at his fins and mask. “Oh yeah. Right.”

He bent down to off-load his gear, trying not to ogle Haze on the way back up. Then there was another awkward moment, as he realised just how close they were.

Should he do something?

Haze seemed to be waiting.

But then the moment was gone. Haze had spun around and was heading down the hall, in the opposite direction from where Mrs Herrington had gone the day before.

“Come on, I wanna show ya somethin’,” he said, pushing open a door at the end of the hallway.

Blake followed him inside and his heart took a sudden plunge in his chest when he spied what he assumed to be Haze’s bed and realised where he was. Haze’s bedroom. Alone together.

Why was Haze taking him here?

All sorts of answers sprang to mind. However, as his eyes swept across the rather large room, his attention was drawn to the glaring lights on the far side wall and he quickly lost his train of thought.

As he approached them, he realised what he was looking at. It was a gigantic aquarium, some twelve feet long, stretching across the entire length of the wall. He found himself squinting in the brightness at first, until his eyes could adjust.

“Wow,” he muttered, involuntarily.

He glanced over at Haze, who seemed delighted by the reaction.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“My aquarium,” Haze answered simply, moving closer and beckoning Blake to join him with a grin.

There was so much to look at that Blake had difficulty taking it all in at first. It was like a miniature version of the reef, packed full of the colour and shapes of all kinds of marine life. There were corals and fish of every variety and colour and so many other things too.

Across the front of the tank Blake could see the underside of a large blue starfish and he watched as its tiny suction-like feet move at a snail’s pace across the glass. Behind that was stripy red hermit crab with blue eyes on stalks. It seemed to watch him and it drew itself further into its shell as Blake pressed his nose against the glass to get a closer look.

“It’s so bright,” he commented, taking a moment to look at the array of different coloured lights, hanging from the ceiling above them. Whites ones, blue ones, purple ones. Some were round and some were long tubes. There was a kind of UV glow to one of them.

“That’s to mimic the sunlight,” Haze explained. “Have to get the right light frequencies to keep the corals happy. And under here,” he continued, opening the cupboard doors to the cabinet beneath the aquarium. “That’s the canister filter, that’s the refugium, that’s the UV steriliser, the chiller, the heater and that there’s the protein skimmer.”

Blake gaped at the complex-looking array of smaller aquariums, lights, tubes and wires.

“What’s all that for?” he asked curiously.

“Stops the corals gettin’ too hot or too cold. Or poisoned by ammonia or nitrate build up. Or bacteria.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Yeah,” Haze responded, sounding rather proud. “It’s a lot of work.”

Blake continued to study the aquarium, pointing out fish and corals, with Haze supplying their names and odd pieces of information about them too, in a rather academic tone of voice. Then Blake moved to the far corner and was surprised to see a large orange and white clown fish leap out from its hiding spot amongst an anemone’s tentacles. It hurled itself against the glass, causing Blake to jerk his head backwards.

“That’s Jonah,” Haze chuckled, his face beaming.

“You have a pet clown fish?” Blake asked, feeling a sudden tightening across his chest as he saw the blue-eyed boy’s smile.

Haze never looked more beautiful than when he was like this, smiling, happy, completely unguarded.

“Well, he’s not actually a true clown fish,” Haze explained, his voice taking on that slightly academic tone again. “Ocellaris ... the true clowns, look a bit different, and they don’t have that spike behind the gill that Jonah has, but he’s from the same family.”

“And he even lives in an anemone?”

“Uh-huh,” Haze replied, proudly. “It took me a while to match the right fish to the right anemone, but once they take, they almost never leave their host anemone and they’re real protective. Watch.”

Haze dragged over a nearby chair and then stood on top of it. He reached over the edge of the aquarium and placed half of a clam’s shell on the rock nearby and above the anemone. Blake noticed that all of the fish retreated and hid amongst the corals and rockwork until Haze’s hand left the tank and he’d climbed back down again.

“Watch,” Haze said again.

Blake watched as the nervous looking fish took a moment to reappear from behind the rocks and then he saw the clown fish make its way back to the anemone. It seemed to take an instant dislike to the clamshell’s resting place and it fussed about the much larger object in an agitated fashion.

Blake chuckled at its antics.

“What’s he doing?”

“These anemones get 98% of their food from sunlight,” Haze explained. “They catch almost nothin’ in their tentacles, so without the light the anemone starves. The fish needs the anemone, so he looks after it.”

Blake pressed his face up closer and watched as the fish nipped at the shell with its teeth and swatted at it with its tail.

“There’s no way he’s gonna be able to move it,” Blake said. “It’s like ten times his size.”

“Watch,” Haze instructed, his voice closer now, as he too pressed his face against the glass.

Jonah then seemed to take a bit of a run up, before hurling himself at the clam shell, knocking it from the rocks and onto the white sand beneath.

“Ha!” Blake exclaimed. “I can’t believe he just did that!”

Haze chuckled.

“It’s not so cute when he’s knockin’ over new corals when I’m tryin’ to plant ‘em.”

Blake turned his head then, but whatever he was about to say next froze in his throat as he abruptly found himself nose-to-nose with Haze. The other boy had turned his head at the same time and now they were staring into each other’s eyes, lips mere inches apart.

Haze’s smile disappeared, as a slightly more serious expression took its place, but this did nothing to diminish his sex appeal. Blake found the sight of him to be intoxicating. He had never been more attracted to Haze than at that moment.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned a little forward and was delighted and the tiniest bit frightened to see Haze leaning forwards too, eyes closing softly.

In an instant they were kissing, soft and gentle, their lips alone touching since neither had the space to move closer, pressed up against the aquarium as they were.

This kiss was different again, Blake thought. It was more relaxed and tempered than that day on the boat and more hesitant and gentle than the night before. Haze tasted of mint and toothpaste and his lips moved with more deliberation and a sense of awareness. This was a romantic kiss, Blake decided to himself, soft and sweet, but every bit as full of desire and pleasure.

After what seemed like an eternity like that, Haze pulled back and Blake could see the crimson colour of his cheeks clearly in the bright aquarium lights.

“Hi,” he said, shyly, grinning ear to ear.

“Hi,” Haze responded, equally as coy.

They shared an exchange of silly chuckles and broad smiles.

“What was that for?” Blake asked, even though he wasn’t really sure who had kissed who.

“For likin’ my aquarium,” Haze said, moving a step or two away from the tank and taking hold of Blake’s hands in his own. “I was kinda hopin’ ya would.”

Blake blushed and tried to hide his discomfort behind banter.

“How do you know I’m not just pretending?”

Haze’s smile fell a little and he cocked his head slightly as if considering the question seriously.

“You’re not pretendin’,” he said in a strangely contemplative tone. “I can tell.”

“Really?”

“Really. Cause ya lookin’at it the right way,” he answered, seriously. “Other people I’ve shown it too, they look at it and see the colour and maybe even say that it’s beautiful, but they don’t get it, they don’t see all the things alive in there, the whole ecosystem and what it takes to keep them all happy. They just see somethin’ pretty like a paintin’. They say ‘it’s nice’ or somethin’. If that.”

These last two words were spoken in a somewhat darker tone, Blake noted, and he felt the sudden need to stop that line of thought before the mood took hold of Haze. He tugged on the other boy’s hands and pulled him closer until their noses were touching again.

“I think it’s amazing,” he said, honestly, although after the words left his mouth he felt a little embarrassed for saying so.

“Thanks,” whispered Haze softly and then they were kissing again, deeper this time, but more comfortably, more naturally, hands free to explore.

Blake was lost in the moment and thinking to himself that he could happily do this all day when Haze pulled apart, his eyes darting across the room to the bedside clock.

“We gotta go before we miss the tide,” he said, leaning across for one more quick kiss before he pulled away.

Blake frowned at the interruption, but Haze was across the room and poking through his wardrobe before he could argue.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing,” Blake pointed out, not at all bothered by this detail. So long as whatever it was involved Haze, he knew would be happy.

Haze appeared holding a small plastic container with handles and a couple of small fishing nets. He climbed back onto the chair and Blake noticed for the first time the square box of fine netting in the corner of the aquarium.

“What’s in there?” he asked as Haze started fishing around with one of the nets.

“A couple of nubies, a piece of coral and a boxfish,” Haze explained, fishing something out and dropping it into the smaller aquarium. “We’re gonna take em back. They ain’t doin’ so well.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Not sure, really. Hard to tell. The nubies probably don’t have the right food, most species only eat one type of food and I couldn’t find any information on these two. They were doing alright at first but now they’re lookin’ a bit sick sick. Not havin’ much luck feedin’ this boxfish either. So we’re gonna put ‘em back and look for some replacements.”

“Wait a minute, you mean you caught all of these yourself?” Blake asked, taking another look at the colourful display.

“Well not all of them,” Haze answered. “I did order some of the fish and corals online, but only ‘cause I couldn’t catch those myself.”

“So is that what we’re doing today?” Blake asked, a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Haze said, getting down from the chair again. “We’re gonna go snorkellin’ and release these guys and hunt for some new stuff.”

He had a happy, excited manner about him, like a kid in a candy store and as he rushed to gather bits and pieces Blake could tell he was itching to get going. He was stuffing things into a bag when all of a sudden he looked up and stopped what he was doing.

“Unless ...” he paused then, looking a little worried. “Unless ya don’t wanna do that?”

Blake thought about it for a moment and then smiled. It wasn’t at all what he’d had imagined, but right then he could think of nothing he would rather do than hunt for new critters with Haze.

“That sounds like an awesome idea,” he said, honestly, and when Haze beamed at his response he felt a little weak at the knees.

***

Haze drove them down the coast about an hour or so in his ute, pulling off the main road and down a dirt track towards, in his words, ‘a little place’ he knew.

It was too noisy on the drive to really talk much, but for once Blake found he was comfortable with there being silence between them. He simply sat back and enjoyed the feeling of the wind in his hair as they swept through the vast desert landscape.

Eventually they reached the ocean again and Haze soon brought the ute to a stop.

“Feel that?” he asked, as his eyes scanned across the water.

“Feel what?” Blake answered, his mood souring a little upon noticing the sweaty blotches all over his front again. “I feel hot and sticky,” he complained.

“That’s it,” Haze answered, with a jovial smile. “The heat, the humidity, the stillness in the air ...”

Blake sat a little higher in his seat. He knew what Haze was talking about now. He had felt it too, earlier that morning. Something ... different in the air.

“What is it?” he asked curiously.

“Calm before the storm,” Haze answered.

Blake glanced across at him, looking a little worried, but Haze only chuckled.

“There’s a storm out there,” he explained, pointing to the horizon. “But it’s a long way away.”

Blake looked to the horizon, but he could see only sparkling water and clear blue sky.

“Too far to see, for now,” Haze continued, smirking. “For now it’ll keep the wind away and without any wind this place gets hotter and hotter and more and more humid. Just a pity we ain’t divin’ today.”

“How come?”

“The reef comes alive in this weather,” Haze said, in a tone that made him sound like he was telling a ghost story. “This is when everythin’ comes out, where everythin’ happens on the reef. A tourist can spend weeks here and go out every day and not see as much as on one afternoon like this.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” Haze shrugged. “Just seems to be that way, in my experience anyway. And low tide’s the best of the best,” he added with an excited looking glint to his eye.

Blake loved that look and found Haze’s good mood to be infectious.

“Well what are we waiting for then?”

Haze positively glowed with delight. He then leaned over and gave Blake a quick kiss on the lips, before kicking open the car door and leaping outside.

Blake was left sitting there, blushing profusely at the gesture, but delighted all the same.

Unlike Kulibari Bay, where the white sandy beaches gave way to rolling sand dunes, the coastline here was made of a dark, red rock, porous and jagged. It formed a cliff-face along the ocean, dropping off about six feet to a short strip of white sandy beach.

Haze hurried back and forth from the ute, carrying the portable aquarium, an esky, a rucksack and their snorkelling gear, each in turn. He placed them carefully along the edge of the cliff and then climbed to the bottom, calling for Blake to pass things down to him.

Blake did so and then he climbed down too, his bare feet treading carefully upon rugged, red rocks, until he was far enough down to jump the remaining distance. His feet landed softly on white sand and he took a moment to pause there, taking in the brilliant sparkling water, clear and shallow. He breathed the fresh ocean air and surveyed the vast emptiness of the place.

They were completely alone, he realised. Possibly the only human beings for miles in any direction. Despite the wide open space, there was a sense of intimacy. This was definitely a date, he decided to himself, if only secretly.

He turned to check on Haze and his eyes widen as he caught sight of the other boy stripping down to his bathers. He couldn’t help but ogle a little, his gaze tracing a path across every tanned, chiselled feature until he reached Haze’s face and realised he’d been caught staring.

“Perv,” Haze accused, but he was smiling shyly.

Blake was mortified nonetheless and he blushed profusely as he stared pointedly at his feet.

Haze only laughed.

“It’s okay,” he said, closing the distance between them. He then reached out to join their hands, causing Blake to lift his head again, nervously.

“I ... like it,” he confessed and then it was his turn to look away, embarrassed.

Blake smiled and relaxed a little. This would take some getting used to, he thought to himself, not having to hide how he felt about Haze. After weeks of hasty, stolen glances and only the occasional ‘perv’ when he was sure no one was looking, the idea that he was now allowed to look, to appreciate Haze openly if he wanted to, seemed strange. Like in his dreams. There was still a part of him that expected to wake up at any moment.

“But on one condition,” Haze added bashfully, his hands coming to rest on Blake’s waist as he leaned in close. “Ya have to ... let me perv too,” he whispered, his fingers lifting the hem of Blake’s shirt.

In a flash, Blake was overwhelmed by sudden rush of panic and unexplained fury. He slapped Haze’s hand and roughly pushed the other boy away from him.

Haze’s timid smile vanished in an instant and the look of hurt and confusion that replaced it made Blake feel horribly guilty.

“Sorry!” he gasped, but he was unable to say much more as, all of a sudden, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He knew he was wrecking everything again, ruining things with Haze, but it was also Haze’s fault this time too. Why did he have to make fun like that? It wasn’t funny. Why would anyone want to perv on someone like himself?

Haze’s expression quickly morphed from hurt to anger, his face scrunching up into a vicious looking scowl. However, as Blake began to shake and tremble before him, his expression visibly softened and then grew concerned.

“Blake?”

“I’m okay.”

The words sounded choked and forced, even to his own ears.

Haze sighed.

“Why do ya only say that when you’re not okay?”

“I’m okay,” Blake responded reflexively, proving the other boy’s point.

Haze frowned. He then reached out and took a few hesitant steps forward, but Blake backed away, towards the clear shallow water gently lapping on the white sand.

“What’d I do?” Haze asked, frustration evident in his voice.

“Nothing. I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that. It’s my fault.”

“No its not it’s ...” but he didn’t finish what he was saying, his words ending with a frustrated sounding grunt and a helpless swing of his arms.

Blake began to worry then as he felt the anxiety take hold. He worried that Haze would give up on him. That he would grow tired of having to deal with such a weirdo, freak. That he was about to call the whole date off and drive them home again. If it even was a date.

But instead, Haze’s look of frustration softened and a strange sort of smile appeared in its place, a mischievous looking smirk. He began to take very slow and deliberate steps sideways, circling around Blake in a wide arch, facing him all the while.

Blake watched on, confused, as Haze continued like this until he was standing ankle deep in the clear shallow water with the ocean now behind him. Then he stopped moving and wiggled his eyebrows.

Blake just shook his head a little, having no idea what the other boy was doing.

Haze promptly sank to his knees and scooped up some of the water with his hands. He then looked up and wiggled his eyebrows again.

Blake’s eyes widened as he realised what the other boy was about to do.

“No way.”

“Splashy, splashy, splashy,” Haze sung in a childlike voice, scooping up and releasing handfuls of water.

Blake glanced over his shoulder, trying to judge whether he could make it to the rocks in time, but before he had a chance to run he heard a splash and felt the slight shock of cool water soaking through his t-shirt, the droplets rolling down his dry hair and onto his face.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” he spluttered, indignantly.

Haze only howled with laugher.

Blake narrowed his eyes and was about to protest further when he decided on another course of action. He charged forward sweeping his foot across the water, kicking great sheets of it towards Haze.

However, Haze was too quick for him, getting to his feet with his usual agility and leaping out of range, just in time.

“Missed me!” he taunted and then he turned and fled.

Blake promptly ran after him, determined to get revenge.

Haze feinted left and then right, but Blake matched his moves, blocking the other boy’s path, chasing him towards the ocean. The clear shallow water seemed to extend for ages, but gradually it began to get deeper and Haze’s pace began to slow as the effort of lifting his feet from the water proved more and more difficult.

Finally, when he was knee deep, Blake closed the distance between them, repeatedly scooping up handfuls of water to toss at Haze until he was utterly soaked through, though this did nothing to diminish his laughter.

“Ah-Ha!” Blake declared, with a note of childish satisfaction.

Haze took an exaggerated breath, held his nose and then lay backwards, submerging himself beneath clear water that was barely waist deep. After a moment he then surfaced, swept the hair from his face and opened his eyes to grin that mischievous grin again.

Blake’s eyes widened and he quickly turned to run, but Haze sprang forward, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him down, into the water, clothes and all.

Blake felt the water soak through his t-shirt and his hair, cool at first, but then almost lukewarm as he got used to it.

On bobbing to the surface again, Haze continued the assault, splashing water in his face with both hands.

Blake got to his feet to return fire and soon they were both splashing water on each other like they were ten years old, turning their heads to keep the salty sting from their eyes as they laughed like children.

Eventually, the splashing slowed and then stopped, leaving the two of them keeled over, resting hands on knees as they tried to catch their breath, dying chuckles still audible over their panting.

“What was that for?” Blake demanded, with mock seriousness.

Haze smiled as he stood tall and then came closer. He reached for Blake’s elbow, his hands tracing down the forearm to take hold of the wrist. He then cocked an eyebrow as if to study Blake’s hand carefully.

Blake was momentarily confused by the gesture, but then he figured out what Haze was getting at. His hand wasn’t shaking anymore. His anxiety had gone away.

He glanced up and took in Haze’s self-satisfied smirk.

“Oh so you splashed me for my own good then huh?” he complained, pulling his hand free and crossing his arms in a half-hearted attempt at a sulk.

Haze nodded in a playful and theatrical manner.

“Well that won’t work twice you know.”

Haze leaned forward and gave Blake a peck on the cheek, pausing there to whisper in his ear.

“Then I’ll have to think up other ways.”

Blake thought about that then, what it would be like to have someone around to keep him company, to keep his dark thoughts away. His expression grew more serious, more contemplative and apparently Haze must have noticed this.

“Unless ... ya don’t want that?” Haze probed, in a hesitant sounding voice, having suddenly lost his confident, playful manner.

Blake uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on Haze’s waist to draw him closer.

“Oh Haze,” he breathed, lifting a hand to cup the other boy’s cheek. “I’d like that ... a lot ... it’s just, I guess I ... I didn’t dare hope.”

Haze nuzzled his hand and seemed to smile serenely.

“So it’s settled then.”

Blake felt a pang of guilt, of something gnawing at his insides. He knew he really didn’t deserve this.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he protested, because he felt he should. He felt he was tricking Haze somehow, deceiving him. Why else would he be so interested?

“Guess I’ll find out,” Haze shrugged.

“I’m pretty crazy you know.”

Haze lifted his hands to take hold of Blake’s as it began to draw away.

“Everyone’s a little crazy,” he breathed, leaning in close until their lips almost met.

“I’m really crazy,” Blake protested with a little more force this time, unhappy with Haze’s dismissive responses. He felt that he had to warn him.

“Blake?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

And then they were kissing, holding onto each other at the waist while they stood knee deep in sparking clear water, on a sandbar in the middle of nowhere.

***

Despite feeling uncomfortable about having to get out of his soaking wet clothes, Blake managed to avoid a repeat performance of ‘crazy’ that afternoon. No doubt it helped that Haze wasn’t watching at the time. He’d gone on ahead a bit, whether deliberately or incidentally, Blake could not be sure. He wasn’t about to waste the opportunity though, so he quickly shrugged off his t-shirt and shorts before wringing them out and leaving them on the rocks to dry.

The day was stifling hot and the water warm and inviting, but Blake had brought his wetsuit anyway, ostensibly for protection from the sun, although the real reason he put it on now had more to do with keeping his body hidden.

With that done, he hurried off after Haze who was still only knee deep in water, stooping awkwardly to keep his sea creatures below the surface. They were stored in a kind of sack made of a fine white mesh with a plastic clip that could hook onto a wetsuit or board shorts.

The reef was a long way out and they had to wade through the shallow water for ages before reaching the end of the sandbar, where clear water turned pale blue as it grew deeper. Once the water was past their shoulders, they put on their fins and masks and swam the remaining distance to the reef.

Floating along the surface, breathing through his snorkel, Blake could see some fish and even a few stingrays nestled on the sandy ocean floor, but that was about all until they reached the edge of the reef, where flat white sand suddenly gave way to a burst of shapes and colour.

Blake was surprised by how much there was to see at such shallow depths and he quickly lost track of time as he immersed himself in an underwater paradise of fish and corals.

He’d never had much time for snorkelling before, having long thought it inferior to diving, but after that afternoon he decided he liked both. For different reasons. Diving was still his favourite, of course, but snorkelling had a lot going for it too.

There was much more colour and light at these shallow depths and the sights could be enjoyed without bulky gear and the constant need to watch your depth and air gauges. This led to a more relaxed and casual feeling, one without time limits or the risk of decompression sickness if things went wrong. As an added bonus, he could actually listen and talk to Haze, which made it much easier to point things out to each other and to navigate. It also made the activity more social, more like a ‘date’ and Blake liked that aspect especially.

Haze eventually found a spot to release the animals he’d brought, and Blake watched as his friend took special care in diving down to place them amongst the rocks and corals. After that, they spent an hour or so swimming about, looking for potential replacements.

The first catch was a bright red shrimp with white feelers. It was small and delicate and Haze spent quite a lot of time trying to fish it out from a crevice with his net, repeatedly diving down after it for as long as he could hold his breath.

He tried the same technique to catch a colourful fish later on, but it had proven more of a challenge. After several fail attempts, he’d enlisted Blake’s help to try to chase it out from the corals towards him, but they’d lost sight of it after a few more tries. Not that this did anything to dampen Haze’s spirits. He seemed to enjoy the chase more than the prize.

As a consolation, he took a small colourful starfish. Blake had spotted it himself and he felt sure Haze only captured it for that reason. Not that he minded.

Eventually they headed back, having to swim a lot further this time on account of the rising tide, which prevented either of them from touching bottom where before they had been wading. By the time they reached the shore, Blake was exhausted and feeling a little dehydrated.

Haze busied himself transferring the animals to his portable aquarium, so Blake took the opportunity to change out of his wetsuit and back into his clothes, which had dried nicely on the sun-baked rocks.

They then lay out their towels in the shade by the wall of red rock, which was tall enough to cover them from the afternoon sun. Haze dragged over the esky and they chatted comfortably over lunch, a picnic Haze had put together, roughly made sandwiches and ice cold soft drink.

“So how would ya rate this date so far?” Haze asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

Blake couldn’t hide the blush that crept across his cheeks, the bashful dip of his head. He felt embarrassed by the question, though he was pleased to have his secret hopes confirmed.

So this was a date!

“This is a date?” he asked out loud, trying to deflect his discomfort with some playful banter.

“Ya didn’t know?”

Haze sounded appalled, but his mischievous smile told Blake he wasn’t really upset.

“Well it’s not the usual dinner and a movie kinda date now is it?”

“No, it’s heaps better than that!”

Blake laughed at the forceful declaration.

“Yeah,” he said, with a coy smile. “It is.”

Haze was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow and when he smiled in response, Blake felt that giddy pleasant feeling again and had to look away.

“Better than any date ya been on in Sydney?” Haze ventured.

“Yeah ... all those dates,” Blake replied, sounding more glum and bitter than he had intended.

“Oh come on,” Haze goaded. “Ya expect me to believe that a good lookin’ dude like you ain’t been on dates with guys before?”

Blake felt it again then, that rising rage, that sick feeling in his stomach, but he was ready for it this time and quickly suffocated the sensations with practised ease. It was just an expression, the ‘good looking dude like you’ comment. Haze hadn’t meant to tease him about his looks again. He was just making conversation, being polite.

“What?” Haze prodded, having apparently noticed something was off, despite Blake’s best efforts to conceal his reactions.

“Nothing, I ... worked a lot in Sydney ... didn’t get out much ...” he fumbled, trying to address the previous question and move on. Haze didn’t seem fooled though, so he quickly followed up with a question of his own.

“What about you?” he asked.

The diversion worked and with the tables turned it was now Haze’s turn to fumble with his words.

“Erm ...nope ... no. Well, not with ... ya know ... not with a guy.”

An image of Patty popped into Blake’s mind just then and he felt compelled to ask about her some more, but he didn’t. This was a date, his date with Haze and he wasn’t about to ruin it by bringing her into the conversation. He needed to change direction and quickly.

“I’ve had plenty of secret crushes though,” he confessed. “That’s um ... more like me. You know, the whole unrequited thing, fancying guys from a distance, driving myself crazy over someone I never manage to say hello to.”

Haze chuckled a little and seemed to relax once more.

“Secret eh? Well ya certainly good at that. I couldn’t figure ya out.”

“Me?” Blake exclaimed. “You’re the one who had a girlfriend!”

Haze’s smile dropped while Blake winced and mentally berated himself for bringing up the very topic he’d been trying to avoid.

Haze quickly recovered though and carried on without skipping a beat.

“Well, ya gotta admit, ya acted pretty freaked out around Derrick,” he pointed out. “I thought ya were uncomfortable around ... ya know, guys like us.”

Blake stopped to think about that then, realising that Haze was right. He had acted pretty hostile towards Derrick that night. In fact, he’d had something of a fight with the guy. No wonder Haze had got the wrong idea.

It was particularly ironic to Blake, because he remembered how he too had watched Haze for reactions around Derrick, never stopping to think that Haze might be doing the same thing.

“Yeah ... I was pretty awful to him.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. He was a dick.”

Blake thought that was pretty unfair. Poor Derrick had done nothing but offer friendship really, even going so far as to take care of him when he’d had too much to drink. It wasn’t his fault he’d flipped out and picked a fight with the guy.

However, Blake didn’t argue the point. He didn’t want to talk about Derrick. No more than he wanted to talk about Patty. He wanted to talk about Haze.

“So who was your first crush then?” he asked after finishing another mouthful of his sandwich.

Haze shifted about, suddenly very uncomfortable.

“That ain’t the greatest story ...” he said, absently flicking at bits of sand, his eyes elsewhere now, out to the horizon.

Blake could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but his curiosity was now piqued.

“Come on,” he goaded, flicking a bit of seashell towards his friend.

It bounced off his chest, landing nearby and Haze flicked it back, starting a sort of game between them while they chatted.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I wanna hear it.”

“Fine,” Haze relented. “His name was Jonathan.”

Blake thought he would be happy to hear that it was a guy, but in fact he felt a little jealous.

“And ...?” he asked, wondering who this ‘Jonathan’ was, praying that he was not still around.

“And what?”

Haze was being evasive.

“Where’d you meet?” Blake asked, sounding a little more impatient than he’d meant to.

“He worked at the resort, back when I was in high school and workin’ there too, over the summers.”

High school. High school. Blake ran the numbers in his head and was pleased with what he came up with. It must’ve been years and years ago. Old news then this ‘Jonathan’. Surely?

“And?”

“And what?”

Haze’s focus was on his towel and on lining up his next shot with the piece of sea shell, but once he’d flicked it over, Blake caught it instead of flicking it back.

“What was he like?” he asked, forcing Haze to make eye contact.

“He was ...” Haze paused and shifted about uncomfortably again, eyes flickering downwards. “He was older than me, mid twenties or something and he was ... cool. He had a cool car, wore cool clothes, said cool things, had cool friends. To a weedy high school kid who hadn’t started his growth spurt yet he was ... the bomb.”

Now Blake really did feel jealous.

“And ...” he said, drawing out the word.

“And ... and well ... at first, I thought I just wanted to be him, ya know? Like I was just lookin’ up to him?”

Blake nodded.

“But I’d been havin’ these sorts of ... feelin’s ‘round guys at school too, just not as strong and ... well ... eventually I figured it was more. I didn’t just want to be him I wanted to be ... with him. I thought about him. A lot. Most often naked. That kinda thing. Ya know?”

Blake nodded again.

“Anyway, I’d kinda worried before I might be ... gay and well ... he kinda made me think about it again. A lot more.”

Haze drifted off then, suddenly deep in thought, as if remembering something. His mood became melancholy.

“So?” Blake prompted, when it seemed like he wouldn’t continue on his own. “Did you ever talk to him?”

“Yeah, all the time,” Haze answered, his attention refocused. “At work I hung around him like a puppy and listened to his shit like it was music. But after his shift ended ... he headed off to hang with his real friends. Chase girls on the beach.”

Haze drifted off again after that and Blake could now feel the waves of sadness rolling off him. Blake knew how this story went. Secret crushes on straight guys always end in heartbreak. He had a few stories like that of his own.

“Sorry, you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to ... I can guess how this story goes.”

Haze gave a short, bitter sounding laugh.

“Can ya? Doubt that ... ya see, one day, outta the blue, he starts to notice me, starts to actually look at me when he’s tellin’ his stories. Made me shiver. Then he asks if I wanna hang out, after work, just him and me.”

Haze shifted around, rolling from his side to his back, his hands coming to fold behind his head.

“He put his hand on my shoulder when he asked and ... I ... I really felt somethin’ ... I just got this feelin’, like he was askin’ somethin’ else. That he knew how I felt and ... he was askin’ me out out.”

“And was he?” Blake asked, sitting up now, thoroughly engrossed in the story.

“He took me out to a spot on the dunes to watch the sunset and then he said he was ‘gay’ for me and asked me if I felt the same.”

“Gay for you?” Blake retorted, trying to mask his growing alarm and jealousy with a teasing tone of voice. “Who says that?”

He knew he’d said the wrong thing though, as he watched Haze’s lip curl into an angry-looking, spiteful frown.

“People who aren’t gay, obviously. Any idiot should’a seen that one comin’. But I ...” he trailed off then, choking a bit on his words. “I was just a stupid kid who had his biggest wanking fantasy come true. So I told him how I really felt.”

“Oh,” Blake mumbled awkwardly, guiltily. “What happen when you told him?”

“Nothin’ really, he just laughed, got to his feet and left. First person I ever came out to and he just laughed at me and walked away.”

“I’m sorry Haze that’s horrible,” Blake said, feeling outraged and helpless. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

The question was rhetorical, but Haze grinned darkly and answered anyway.

“For a thousand bucks actually.”

“A thousand dollars? Why? A dare?” Blake wondered aloud.

Haze gave that short, bitter-sounding laugh again.

“Yeah, like his dero friends had that kinda money. No, it was a job. It was a job for his employer. Mum.”

Blake felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Your ... mother?” he exclaimed in an astonished, almost hoarse whisper. “Why would she-”

“For my own good,” Haze snapped, answering the question before Blake could finish asking it. “She noticed I was ... interested in him. She wanted to know why. To protect me.”

Blake could not believe what he was hearing. Did Haze really think that made it alright? It was difficult to tell from his tone. Was he just repeating his mother’s justification or was this his own excuse for her behaviour?

“She’s ... a bit controlling ... she worries a lot,” Haze added, having apparently noticed the look of horror on Blake’s face. “She thought she was doin’ what was best for me.”

“By paying someone to humiliate you?”

“She ... she ...” Haze seemed to run out of steam mid-sentence and then his voice began to waver as he went on. “I don’t ... I don’t think she told him to do it that way ... just to find out ... probably.”

Blake lifted the esky out of the way and scootered closer to take hold of Haze’s hand, but the boy sat up and turned away.

“It was my own stupid fault anyway,” he growled and though he was clearly trying to hide it, Blake could tell how much the story was affecting him.

“No it wasn’t.”

“Gay for you? You’re right. Who the fuck says that?”

“Haze,” Blake said calmly.

“NO!” Haze shouted back, suddenly turning around again, anger visibly taking hold of him. “I was a fuckin’ idiot and I learned my lesson the hard way!”

Blake wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was patently obvious to him who was to blame, but he felt he had to tread carefully. Haze was regressing into his angry self again and in this volatile state Blake knew he had to watch what he said or else things could quickly end up going backwards between them.

So he said nothing for a while, meeting Haze’s angry stare with only a small frown on his face as he waited. Seconds ticked by like that until finally Haze blinked rapidly a few times and then shrank visibly, shoulders hunching, chin dropping to his chest.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking miserable. “I didn’t mean to get angry again. I didn’t mean to shout at ya.”

“It’s okay,” Blake reassured.

“No its not,” Haze grumbled. “I keep doin’ it, don’t I? Losin’ my temper over nothin’.”

Blake reached out and took hold of Haze’s hand, drawing it into his lap.

“It doesn’t matter that it happens,” he said, as he traced little circles on Haze’s open palm. “What matters is how you deal with it. And you did real good just then. Took you only a few seconds to see it was happening and to stop.”

Haze glanced up through a curtain of hair and seemed to scrutinise carefully, as if he were looking for some evidence of trickery or sarcasm. Blake did his best to show his sincerity and after a moment, Haze seemed satisfied, his frown flattening out a little, his posture relaxing.

“Thanks,” he muttered gruffly.

Blake smiled and he lifted Haze’s hand to his mouth to kiss the fingers softly.

“Anyway,” Haze muttered, sitting up cross-legged now as Blake had been doing. “Ya got two stories outta me. First crush and how mum found out I was gay. Seems like it’s your turn.”

“But you didn’t finish the story.”

“Yeah I did and don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m not ... it’s just ... well. What happen when she found out?”

Haze’s slowly developing smile retreated again, as that thoughtful melancholy expression came back.

“Nothin’ good. It was ... pretty ... bad for the rest of that holidays. She didn’t take it very well. But then school started and ... well ... next time holidays rolled around and I came home we just acted like it never happened. And I ...” he paused then to lick his lips. “I made up my mind it would never happen again. I would not be gay.”

Blake nodded, wondering to himself when Haze had changed his mind on that. Was it a recent thing or had Haze come to terms with being gay ages ago? He was tempted to ask, but decided to avoid the whole ‘sexuality labels’ conversation for the moment.

“And what happened to Jonathan?” he asked instead. “Did he give you a hard time?”

Haze snorted.

“Nope. She fired him, then gave him a filthy reference and made sure he couldn’t work anywhere from Perth to Broome.”

“Serious?” Blake exclaimed, having quite some difficulty fathoming this women. “After she paid him to do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess that’s something at least,” Blake muttered, figuring the women must have had some sort of conscience, but Haze frowned in response to that.

“I’m sure it wasn’t for me,” he added, bitterly. “She wouldn’t have wanted him sayin’ anythin’ to anyone. But yeah ... he got what he deserved, I suppose.”

Blake wanted to say a few choice words along the lines of Mrs Herrington not getting what she deserved, but he wasn’t sure how Haze would react to that. This was his mother they were talking about, after all. Haze lived with her still and it sounded like she was the only family he had.

And then another thought occurred.

“Hey,” he said, tugging slightly on Haze’s hand. “Did you think your mum was using me to try to trick you?”

Haze dipped his head, looking a little guilty.

“At one stage ... yeah,” he admitted.

Blake’s mind raced, as pieces of the boy he’d long been puzzling over suddenly seemed to fall into place, a coherent picture emerging.

He thought back on the way Mrs Herrington had always acted towards him. So friendly. So familiar. Especially in front of Haze.

Then he thought about the time she’d turned up at the shop, looking for Haze. The way she had casually mentioned their ‘little chat’ on the beach. The look of betrayal on Haze’s face when he’d heard that.

No wonder Haze didn’t talk to him for the rest of that week. No wonder he was so suspicious, at least at first.

But more than that, it made sense to Blake now why Haze was so suspicious of everyone. Why he was so cold and distant. Why he tried so hard to conceal how he felt.

The story about Haze’s first crush was not an isolated incident. From what Blake knew of her, this was Mrs Herrington to the core. Haze probably had lots of stories like this. His mother had probably been manipulating, controlling and tricking him since he was a child.

And what had Haze done?

To get through that, to survive, he’d learnt to keep things hidden from her, to hide his emotions. In fact, he would’ve had to hide his feelings from others too, since his mother would’ve tricked or bullied information out of them as well. Haze must have bottled up all these feelings inside of himself, until it could only come out in bursts of uncontrollable anger.

Blake felt his heart ache as he imagined what it would’ve been like for Haze, growing up like that. Then he wondered what someone like that would need to get better and the answer came to him instantly. Haze needed someone to teach him how to trust, how to have faith in other people.

“Haze, I would never-”

“Yeah I know that,” Haze interrupted, cutting him off.

“No, listen,” Blake insisted, taking hold of both of Haze’s hands and encircling them in his own, forcing eye contact between them.

He wanted to make sure this got through to Haze. Not just to his conscious mind, but to his subconscious mind as well. It was important.

“I would never do that to you,” he said, taking care to emphasise every word while staring directly into Haze’s deep blue eyes. “I will never trick you, I will never manipulate you, I will never betray you.” He spoke forcefully, willing the words to take root inside Haze’s mind. “You can trust me.”

Haze dropped his eyes to their hands and shrugged, but when he spoke his voice was thick with emotion.

“I would ... like that ... it’s just,” he paused then, glancing up through a veil of shaggy hair. “I guess I just didn’t dare hope,” he added, a coy smile forming on his face as he repeated the same phrase Blake had used earlier.

They both chuckled softly at that, but then a more serious expression overcame them and Blake knew what was coming next. His tongue darted forward, moistening his lips in anticipation and then his eyes fell close as he felt Haze move forward for another kiss.

***

“They’re eating my starfish!” Blake cried out in alarm, pointing.

Haze chuckled.

“Calm down dude,” he said, climbing down from the chair with his now empty net to take a look. “I’m pretty sure nothin’ eats starfish in here.”

“That one did,” Blake declared, his finger jabbing at the glass accusingly.

“Who, Pokey?”

“The green one with the evil looking horns.”

“That’s Pokey, he doesn’t eat starfish.”

“He bit it, I swear, when you dropped it in, he swam all the way from over there and he bit my starfish.”

Blake motioned towards the tank and glared at offending fish.

“He didn’t mean to,” Haze explained. “He was probably just curious, wanted to know what it was.”

“So he tried to take a bite?”

“Fish taste things to figure ‘em out.”

Blake crouched to the level of the sand at the bottom of the tank and studied the colourful starfish carefully. It’d landed on its back, but its arms were moving and before long it was grappled to a rock, right-way-up.

“I suppose it looks alright,” he said and then he pressed his nose against the glass where Pokey was swimming. To his surprise, the fish swam towards him.

“Hey, how come Pokey’s not afraid like the rest of them?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Haze answered, putting the chair back in its place and then coming to join him by the aquarium. “I like to think it’s ‘cause I tamed him and he’s smart and knows I’m his friend. But the books say he’s poisonous and doesn’t have any natural predators, so maybe he just doesn’t know fear.”

Blake peered at the thorny, lime-green fish with horns protruding from its head.

“He’s an ugly thing that’s for sure.”

“No he’s not!” Haze exclaimed, with mock outrage. “Pokey is one of my favourites.”

“Hmmm,” Blake muttered and then he tapped the glass at Pokey. “Stay away from my starfish,” he told it.

“Are you trying to threaten a fish?” Haze asked, bemused.

“Well he bit my starfish,” Blake complained and then he felt hands snake around his waist from behind, joined by the slightly scratchy sensation of Haze’s stubbled chin brushing against the crook of his neck.

“Your starfish huh?”

Haze was breathing near his ear, his voice buoyant and teasing.

“You said it was,” Blake pointed out, tensing a little at the intimacy of the situation. It still felt like he was in a parallel universe sometimes. Would he ever get used to being with Haze like this?

“I just said that to get ya interested.”

“Too late now, he’s mine.”

“Ya gonna take him with ya then?”

“Can I?”

Haze chuckled.

“Not unless ya got a few thousand bucks worth of aquarium gear hidin’ somewhere I ain’t seen.”

“Well, you’ll have to look after him for me then.”

Haze grinned broadly. “Will ya come visit him?” he asked.

Blake smiled at the flirtatious suggestion. He was really enjoying this new side of Haze. He’d always suspected the boy was hiding his true self, but he hadn’t realised just how much until today. He’d caught glimpses of real Haze before, but mostly when he was either angry or sad. This new, talkative, playful and quiet touchy-feely Haze stood in stark contrast to the quiet, standoffish boy he’d met no so long ago, the one who barely spoke a word and whose smile seemed painted on.

“Yeah, I’ll visit,” Blake promised, twisting around in Haze’s arms so that they were face-to-face.

“That took a while to decide,” Haze noted, arching an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Spacin’ out ya mean, space cadet.”

“Yeah.” Blake smiled and then he idly raised his hand to brush a lock of shaggy hair out of Haze’s face.

“What were ya thinkin’ about?” Haze asked.

“You.”

“Just as well.”

Blake laughed, his hands coming to rest around Haze’s neck.

“When did you become so witty?” he mused aloud.

Haze’s smile seemed to flatten out a little at that.

“Just ‘cause I’m quiet, doesn’t mean that I’m stupid,” he retorted and although he still sounded playful, Blake felt the need to study him carefully, to check whether there wasn’t something deeper to those words.

Haze was anything but stupid, in Blake’s opinion, despite what his mother had to say about the matter. Haze was certainly a fountain of knowledge when it came to marine life and from his description of the aquarium he knew a lot of chemistry too. Add to this his playful wit and Blake was in no doubt as to Haze’s intelligence.

But did Haze know this? Or had his mother managed to destroy his self-confidence? Did she really think he was dumb or was that just her way of putting him down? Or did he manage to keep his true self so far hidden from her that she didn’t know any better?

“Earth to Blake,” Haze quipped.

“Sorry,” Blake mumbled, blushing.

“What were ya thinking about this time?”

“You again.”

“Ya think about me a lot huh?”

Blake chuckled at the irony of the question. “If only you knew.”

“Maybe I’d think it’s not enough?”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

Haze started leading them away from the aquarium then, his hands glued to Blake’s waist.

“I dunno, I like the idea of ya thinkin’ about me.”

“Trust me, I think about you plenty.”

Blake shuffled backwards at the other boy’s direction, until he felt the edge of Haze’s bed pressing against the back of his knees.

“How about right now?” Haze asked, with a shy, but highly suggestive smile.

Blake’s breath hitched as he felt Haze’s hands travel down and around his waist, to cup his backside.

“Definitely now,” he squeaked and then they were kissing again and he was falling back onto the bed, drawing Haze on top of him.

Despite the mindboggling sensations coursing through his body, Blake worried for a moment about where this was going, but then he felt Haze’s tongue in his mouth and he quickly surrendered to the pleasures of the moment.

Haze was kneeling on all fours on top of him, so Blake reached out and pulled him down, crushing their bodies together until there was no space left between them. This elicited a noise from Haze, somewhere between a growl and a moan, a deeply arousing sound that left Blake’s blood burning with desire.

He pulled apart momentarily, so as to take a breath, but as the pleasurable sensations of Haze’s mouth on his neck began to register, he arched his head back further to grant better access. Haze kissed and sucked at his throat, pausing to nip at the collar bone before making his way back up again, right up to Blake’s earlobe which he took into his mouth.

Blake turned his head so as to capture Haze’s lips once more and soon their tongues were wrestling again, as they pawed and grouped at each other in a fever of passion. Then Blake started to notice the way Haze was grinding their groins together and soon he could feel the other boy’s erection through their board shorts, twitching and throbbing against his own.

After a few minutes of this, Haze pulled back and sat up, his legs straddling Blake’s groin. He was panting, lips red and swollen and eyes wild, but he was also smiling.

“What?” Blake asked, feeling a little self-conscious about the way Haze was looking at him.

Was something wrong? Why had they stopped?

Haze chuckled shyly and then leaned over, propping himself up with one hand on either side of Blake’s head.

“I still can’t believe we’re doin’ this,” he said, a little breathlessly.

Despite the sincere smile Haze was giving him and the happy look on his face, Blake began to feel anxious on hearing that. What was he trying to say? It did seem unlikely that someone like Haze would be interested in someone like him. Maybe there was a catch? Something he wasn’t seeing, or didn’t want to see. Haze could probably have any boy he wanted, so why him? It didn’t make sense.

Blake suddenly found it difficult to maintain eye contact and so he stared at Haze’s shark-tooth pendant, which had come free from his shirt and was dangling between them.

“Okay, what’d I say?”

“Huh?” Blake mumbled, looking up again to see a pair of narrowed blue eyes scrutinizing him.

“I said somethin’ wrong, I can tell.”

“No you didn’t ... don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah I did ... is it ... are ya ... are we moving too fast for ya?” Haze asked, sounding a little hesitant. “Are you okay with ... with this?” he shrugged, indicating the bed and the intimate position they were in.

Blake hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He’d just been lost in the moment, going by his instincts, which was strange now that he thought about it. Ordinarily, he wasn’t that sort of person, the type to ‘let go’ like that. Haze just seemed to have this effect on him.

“No, I’m fine with this ... more than fine,” he quickly added. “I was just thinking again.”

“About what?”

Blake didn’t want to venture down that path and so he reached up to grab at the necklace and pull Haze down.

“You of course,” he replied, grinning.

“No fair,” Haze protested. “Ya can’t just get outta tellin’ me by-”

Blake silenced him with a kiss and when Haze seemed determined to put up a struggle he rolled them over and climbed on top, pressing Haze into the bed as he deepened the kiss. Haze seemed to give in after that and they returned to making out on his bed.

However, before long, Blake heard a loud bang and he ripped his head away in alarm.

“What was-” he started to whisper, but then he got his answer.

“Hayden?”

The stern, melodious voice was unmistakable as it echoed down the hallway.

“Shit!” Haze whispered, pushing Blake off him and leaping to his feet. “She’s heaps early!”

He frantically dashed across the room to the doorway and called out in a cold, terse voice.

“What!”

“I need your help carrying the shopping please,” Mrs Herrington answered.

“Just a sec!”

“Now Hayden,” she demanded, although it sounded like she was further away this time, heading back to the car again.

Haze glanced around the room with a panicked look about him.

“She can’t see you here,” he exclaimed, in a harsh, desperate-sounding whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her anything,” Blake whispered back, trying to sound reassuring.

What was the big deal anyway? It’s not like Mrs Herrington would know just by looking at them.

“I don’t want her to know we even talk to each other!” Haze declared, sounding incredulous, like that should have been obvious to anyone.

Blake couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by that, but before he could respond, Haze was pushing him towards the built-in wardrobes.

“Hide in there,” he ordered. “Wait ‘til I come get ya.”

“Wait, Haze, surely I can just-”

But Haze wasn’t listening and soon Blake found himself standing amongst shirts hanging in the wardrobe, his feet awkwardly straddling a pile of shoes and boxes.

“Hayden!” came the angry sounding voice again.

“Coming!” Haze shouted back and then with a last fearful glance, he rolled the sliding doors closed, plunging Blake into darkness.

There was the thudding of feet down the hallway and then nothing, just the sound of Blake’s own breathing, echoing about the confined space of Haze’s wardrobe.

The air was stuffy in there and the space cramped, but Blake dared not move in case he made a sound. He briefly thought about the absurdity of the situation. Hiding in the closet. Literally. However, the look on Haze’s face had been serious, dire even. This wasn’t a laughing matter for him.

Blake listened carefully, but could hear only muffled sounds. Not so much voices as movement, footsteps, the banging of cupboard doors, that sort of thing. Next he thought he heard the front door closing and after that there was nothing at all. Silence.

Time dragged on and soon Blake began to notice the various parts of his body that were uncomfortable. His right foot for instance. He didn’t know what he was standing on, but he couldn’t seem to rest any weight on it and crouched over as he was, his other leg soon started aching.

Was it safe to move a bit? Just to get comfortable?

He listened carefully, but couldn’t hear anything so he risked trying to move his foot. There was a rustle of sounds around his feet and he winced at the noise he was making. Everything sounded louder than it was, even his breathing seemed too noisy, but at last he managed to get a bit more comfortable and so he continued his wait.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there like that, but after hearing nothing at all for what seemed like forever, he decided he’d had enough. Maybe he could climb out the window or something? He just couldn’t handle the confined space any longer. It was starting to get to him.

Being discovered in Haze’s room would be bad, but being discovered having a panic attack in Haze’s closet would be much worse.

Slowly, he slid the door open, cursing at the unreasonable amount of noise it seemed to make as it rolled along its rails, catching on something. Then he poked his head out, delighting in the relatively cool, fresh air of Haze’s bedroom. He stayed still like that for a while longer, but after hearing nothing he stepped one foot out and then tried to get his other foot free too.

There were coats and other clothes in the way. He couldn’t really see what he was caught on, but his foot seemed stuck. So, after a moment, he gave a tug and to his horror there was loud crashing sound, the clatter of upended things knocking over other things, creating an avalanche of noise.

Blake froze, standing exactly where he was, deathly quiet, not even daring to take a breath.

He was expecting to hear voices or to see the door suddenly fly open, but there was nothing, only the soft trickling sound of water, coming from the aquarium.

The house was empty it seemed. Either that or the occupants were deaf. It had to be one or the other because no one could’ve missed that sound.

Eventually, Blake released his breath and then began to survey the damage to Haze’s wardrobe. He dithered about whether he should fix the mess, but as a compulsive neat freak he just couldn’t bring himself to do nothing and so he got down onto his hands and knees and tried to gather up books and papers, which had come loose from a stack of folders.

Haze’s wardrobe was packed with all sorts of things and it was difficult to tell what was upended and what was normally like that. It seemed that every space was cramped full of something and as Blake tried to put stuff back more things would come loose.

He soon grew anxious about how long he was taking and so he gave up on being neat and just started scooping up handfuls of items, shoving them in wherever he could find a space. He was growing frantic at the futility of his efforts, when suddenly a shoebox came loose from somewhere above him and crashed to the floor, spraying its contents all around him.

He cursed and started gathering up the bits and pieces in a frenzied state, all the while listening for any sound from the hallway.

But then he stopped.

Something had caught his eye and its strangeness was enough to make him forget for a second where he was and what he was doing.

It was a photograph, a picture of a younger Haze standing on the beach with ... with Haze?

It’d barely registered in Blake’s brain that he was gathering up photographs from the upended shoe box, but now it was all he could think about. There were hundreds of them, spread across the floor all around him and in each of them was someone, a person who looked just like Haze.

Sometimes Blake felt certain that it was Haze in the photo, although he could not be sure in the case of the older ones. He picked up one photo for instance, in which the boys looked to be ten years old. Which one was Haze? The one on the right pointing to his fishing rod or the one on the left holding the net? They both had the same build, the same hair, the same silly hats.

Then, in a more recent photo, he could definitely see the difference, Haze and ... and whoever this other guy was, were standing at the back of a boat, dressed in wetsuits and making hand gesturing for the camera.

Some of the photos even had Mrs Herrington in them too, sitting at what looked like birthday dinners and other social events.

Haze was in many of the photos, but Blake could tell he was not the subject of this collection. His appearance was incidental. The one person who was in every photo was this guy, this Haze look-alike.

Who was he?

Then Blake found one photo which stood out in particular. There were three people in it and their outline had been cut out from the original photo. On the left was definitely Haze, looking to be in his mid to late teens. To the right was the Haze look-alike and in between them both, with an arm around each of their shoulders was Patty.

What struck Blake was the smile on Haze’s face. Everyone smiles for photos of course, but in this photo, Haze was old enough for Blake to really recognise and what he recognised was a real Haze smile. Real Haze had posed for this photograph and he was smiling openly amongst other people.

Blake lowered the picture as his ever obsessive mind began to gorge itself on this treasure trove of new information, of new possibilities to think through.

But then he stopped, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about what he was doing. It’d been an accident of course, but now he was doing more than just casually looking. He was prying. This was not something Haze would be happy with him doing. It wasn’t right. What had he just promised Haze that afternoon?

With extreme reluctance and against all his instincts, Blake ripped his eyes away and gathered the remaining photographs together, stuffing them back into the shoe box. He wasn’t sure exactly where it had come from, so he just guessed as best as he could and then slid the doors closed.

With that done, he made his way over the large windows near Haze’s bed, drawing back the curtains to see if he could climb out. The frames slid sideways and only one of the two windows had an insect screen, so it was easy enough to climb outside.

He had to abandon half his stuff though. He wasn’t even sure where he’d left his towel and fins and mask, but he wasn’t game to leave Haze’s room to go look for them. He would have to trust Haze to figure that bit out.

Once he’d climbed outside, he began to wonder whether he hadn’t made a mistake. The front portion of the Herrington home had a garden and a fence, but Haze’s room was towards the back of the house and beyond that was just desert. A featureless expanse of dunes. He couldn’t go that way. Instead, he followed the wall of the house until he reached the fence and then climbed over into the garden.

He felt silly sneaking about as he was, but he’d gone with this ‘hiding’ plan of Haze’s and it would do no good to be found out now.

He made his way through the garden until he could see the front of the house and was relieved to note that the black Land Rover wasn’t in the car port.

Had they gone somewhere?

It seemed strange after she’d only just got back, but try as he might Blake couldn’t see any sign of her car and the house seemed to be empty.

He took a deep breath and then made a run for the street, leaping over the fence and then continuing on, until he was halfway down the street.

Then he stopped to catch his breath, feeling a little ridiculous. He was pretty sure no one had been around. He could’ve just walked.

He relaxed a little after that and started the walk home, whipping out his phone to send Haze a quick text:

Climbed out your window. Wardrobe a mess. Couldn’t get my stuff. Date was awesome. Blake.

Now all he had to do was figure out how not to obsess over those photos.

Copyright © 2011 Acedias; All Rights Reserved.