Chapter Sixteen #2
“Yeah. It was like, you’re still not white, no matter how hard you try, and then you lose the rest of your culture.
Dad moved to Australia for uni and stayed, and he worked hard to lose his Kiwi accent.
My Auntie Jo still sends us red envelopes of cash for the lunar new year, and that’s about the extent of it.
I’ve never even been to Hong Kong. I must have family there, but Bel and I don’t know them at all. ”
“That really is a shame. I had a layover there once for about ten hours. I took the tram up Victoria Peak. We should—”
Lachlan could barely breathe. What? What should we do? Go to Hong Kong? Yes! Let’s go to Hong Kong! Let’s go anywhere. Everywhere. Shit, he’d be thrilled to go down to the local Woolies with Tim and shop.
Great, now he was thinking about what it would be like living with Tim. Cooking meals together and watching TV. Chatting about their days like any normal couple.
Except we’re not a couple and we never will be.
Tim cleared his throat. “Any wankers ever give you a hard time here?”
“Not really. Ryan would’ve kicked their arses and they knew it.”
“Good.” Tim sounded proud.
“Barkers was usually pretty chill.” A memory surfaced, probably because he’d been thinking about grocery shopping.
“Though I remember once when we were in Woolies—I must’ve been eight or nine.
A woman by the lollies asked Mum where she got me and Bel.
Like she’d picked us out on a website or something. ”
“Christ.”
“Mum said, very loudly and slowly, ‘From my vagina.’ The woman went red and legged it.” He laughed with a rush of affection.
“I had a bag of Maltesers in my hand. I think of it and laugh every time I see them.” The affection settled into a powerful ache in his chest. Mum had been so fearless.
At least she’d seemed so to him. What would she think of his… situation with Tim?
Part of him could imagine her laughing and saying, “Good on ya.”
Tim laughed. “I wonder—” His voice suddenly snapped from its soft rumble to sharp professionalism. “Give me the binos.”
Lachlan quickly passed up the binoculars, his fingers brushing against Tim’s for an instant. He leaned forward, peering at the waves. Then Tim was on the radio.
“North end, there’s a head going out the back. Fourth ramp.”
Mia’s voice sounded. “Copy that. I’m in.”
“Central here,” Baz said. “Bull, Damo’ll pick you up on his way north. Croc’s waking up. Lachie, you stay put.”
Tim hopped down from the back of the buggy and winced. Before Lachlan could ask if he was okay, he said, “Keep an eye on those kids.”
The motor of another buggy was already growing louder, Damo beeping the horn as beachgoers scurried out of the way as he approached.
“Wait!” Lachlan couldn’t stop himself. When Tim turned and eyed him warily, Lachlan wanted to reach out and beg him just for a brush of fingers. Instead, he shook his head and turned back to face the ocean, stuck in place even as the tide began to turn.
“Blake’s got me totally hooked,” Damo said, spinning left and right in his office chair by the window in the tower as the afternoon waned.
“Since when do I care if filet whatever-it’s-called is cooked properly?
Give me a burger any day. But now I know those fancy little steaks have to be medium rare. Nothing else’ll do.”
“MasterChef’s addictive,” Lachlan agreed with a chuckle. He leaned against the bench and watched a group of tourists learning to surf.
There were too many students for one teacher, he thought. But the conditions had surprisingly calmed, so he reckoned it was fine for the moment. He kept his eye on them, wincing as a woman got smoked in the shore break. She laughed it off, fortunately.
“I’ll add you to the group chat,” Damo said.
It was on the tip of Lachlan’s tongue to tell him to add Tim as well, but he thankfully got a grip on himself.
Annnd immediately lost said grip when he started thinking about Tim coming over to watch the show on Sunday, and then most definitely not watching, and then everything going to hell with Ryan. The rush of diametrically opposed emotions within seconds gave him whiplash.
“I mean, no pressure, mate,” Damo said. “You look like you’re about to spew.”
“Oh! No, add me to the group chat. Is Kat in it? They’re really cool.”
“Yep. Cody and Liam too. All the queers. Well, and Mark. But he’s cool.”
“What about the queers?” Cody called from the first aid area.
“Lachie’s joining the MasterChef group chat!” Damo answered.
“Sweet,” Cody said. “I meant to mention it.”
Lachlan smiled to himself. He hadn’t really spoken to Daz or the boys since the disastrous ending to the night out the previous month. It really would be nice to connect more with mates he had a lot in common with.
On cue, guilt smacked him. He’d known Daz and the boys his whole life. And what about Ryan? It was bad enough he’d fucked his dad. Now he was looking to replace him?
Even if he told himself getting to know other people better didn’t mean replacing anyone. Besides, Ryan might never want to talk to him again, and Lachlan couldn’t blame him. Even if the thought made his heart ache. Ryan was his brother. He’d always been there—
“Sinner!” Baz boomed from the back of the tower. “How ya goin’, mate?”
Stomach dropping, Lachlan looked away from the window, certain he was hearing things. That wasn’t… It couldn’t be…
But there he was. Flesh and blood and all too real.
Jules was back.