Chapter 5 #3
I scoff and brush past him to walk in front. “Without you distracting me, I don’t think I’ll fall,” I mutter. The incline’s steep and my calves burn, but I push past the feeling and keep walking, leaving Hemi behind and hoping he didn’t hear my comment.
“I’ll distract you in a different way then,” he says and I wince, knowing he heard what I said. Hopefully, he didn’t understand what I meant.
I march up the narrow path and shiver when we enter the native beech forest. The temperature drops suddenly, and I shiver at the chill sweeping through me and the silence now that the river is further away.
Ferns to the right reach high up the hill and trees are gathered densely to the left, quieting the river and giving some protection if I do trip over myself and fall the wrong way.
“Fucking hell it’s cold.”
I turn and find Hemi jumping in place, swinging his arms back and forth.
“Regretting the shorts, Auckland boy?”
“Never. What would you look at instead?” he says, a teasing smile on his face before he glances at the new landscape.
Is he…flirting with me? No. He isn’t. Right? I tilt my head and frown slightly as Hemi skirts past me carefully and takes long steps up the rock path. Hemi flirting with me is entirely too good to be true. I shake myself and follow him to a wider part of the path.
“I feel like I’m in The Lord of the Rings.”
“Like you’re escorting Frodo or a ranger who found him?”
He hums and considers the landscape before answering, “A ranger I think. The forest reminds me of Ithilien.”
“So that makes you Faramir.” Does that make me éowyn? I scoff to myself. I wish. Just because he’s flirting doesn’t mean he wants anything to happen. I start walking again.
Hemi has a look of disgust on his face when I pass him. “Really? Faramir?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
His sneakers crunch behind me. “Nothing, but he isn’t Bo—”
“Boromir,” I say, disgruntled. “How obvious for the athlete to prefer him.” Maybe I will get over my crush.
“What?”
“It’s what everyone says.”
“I mean, he’s pretty cool,” Hemi says hesitantly, as if he isn’t sure where I’m going with this. He shouldn’t have brought up The Lord of the Rings with a fantasy writer if he didn’t want a character arc debate. Even if it is just about the films.
I suck in a breath and ready myself for disappointment and a quiet hike after this, but I can’t stop myself. “Sure, but he succumbs to the ring.”
“Yeah, but then he saves Merry and Pippin.”
I hum in agreement. “Yes, while Faramir has the opportunity to take the ring from Frodo and use it to curry favour with his father. But he doesn’t, even though that’s all he’s ever wanted.
He lets them go.” I glance over my shoulder at Hemi to see a contemplative expression on his face.
“What more could you want? A character with daddy issues who helps the protagonists despite his own issues. He does it all for the greater good. He’s a quieter and sadder version of Aragorn.
” I avoid a large stone in the path and wait for Hemi’s reply.
Most people don’t agree with my thoughts about the characters.
“I…” Hemi trails off and says, “Huh. I never thought of it that way before.”
I stumble, and Hemi steadies me before urging me forward. I shoot looks over my shoulder at him. I expected outright hostility, like usual, or Hemi deciding he doesn’t feel like talking anymore. “You haven’t?”
“No. I admit I haven’t read the books in a few years and know the movies better.” He laughs to himself. “I guess I like the drama of Boromir’s death and Faramir’s barely in the films, even with the extended versions.”
Is he…agreeing with me? Or at least considering what I said instead of shutting down.
“His death scene is one of the best. But Faramir is my favourite.”
“I can tell,” Hemi says, with dare I say it, fondness in his voice? “Maybe I need to read the books again.”
I aim a smile over my shoulder. “You should. I’ve got the books at home you can borrow.”
“Thanks. But we have to agree that Aragorn is the best. Swoops in to save the day, quiet competence, only violent when he needs to be.”
“Mmm. The dream. Violence only when necessary,” I say with a laugh. “I’m sorry to say that if we come across orcs, I will not be able to save you.”
“We’d die together then because I’d be fucking wetting myself if we came across orcs.” I smile to myself at the image. “I will admit Aragorn holds a special place in my heart,” Hemi says.
“Oh?”
“Yep. Mum let me watch it for the first time when I was home sick from school. I realised I was gay as soon as Viggo stepped onto the screen.”
I laugh and walk sideways so I can see him. “Can’t say I blame you. Long hair with a mysterious edge? Sign me up.” I face forward. “So Liv Tyler didn’t do it for you? Even I think she’s stunning with pointed ears and long flowing robes.”
“Oh, she’s gorgeous, but I was more concerned trying to figure out whether I could deep throat Aragorn.”
I choke on spit and dig through my bag to find water to clear my throat. My eyes water and I cough. “Jesus, Hemi. Warn a guy before you start talking about deep throating Aragorn.”
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound apologetic with the amused edge to his voice. “So, you’re gay, too? Bi? Pan?”
“Gay,” I clarify. “I could have told you that without a discussion about deep throating, but yes. I agree with you about having your sexual awakening to Aragorn.” I turn to Hemi.
“But then Faramir showed up in the second film and I realised I prefer men with blond hair and a curtain fringe.” My eyes dart to Hemi’s chestnut hair that almost has blond streaks in direct sunlight before I turn my focus back to walking, ignoring the burning in my thighs. I was not made for physical exertion.
“Blonds?”
“Sometimes brunettes, once a guy with purple hair. He was insane, though.” I shudder when I remember his fixation on humiliation and wipe sweat off my forehead. I discovered that was really not my thing and never returned to that club.
Hemi clears his throat. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment? I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
I pause in my step but continue when I feel him at my back. Why does he want to know that? And does it have anything to do with flirting with me? Butterflies fight in my stomach, and I shove my hands deep into my pockets. “Nope, not seeing anyone. Are you?” I ask hesitantly.
Hemi sighs heavily. “Charlie wants me to. Said there’s a guy at her office she thinks I’ll like.”
“Why don’t you?” I ask, ignoring the reminder that whoever he ends up with, it won’t be me.
Hemi sighs again. “I don’t want to bring more attention to the fact I’m gay and playing on a professional team. At least, not unless it’s a serious relationship. Then I wouldn’t mind dealing with the media.”
“Have people been shitty?” I frown and try to catch his eye, but he’s staring at the ground as he walks.
“Not everyone. It’s a lot better than it could be, and I’m thankful for that, but I feel like every interview someone brings up the fact I’m gay.
If I was dating someone, it would be so much worse, you know?
Then there would be a physical reminder of my sexuality, which is harder for people to ignore. ”
I stop in the middle of the track and shift to face him.
Hemi stops, slightly shorter than me now on the incline, and I use it to my advantage to stare down at him.
“People are assholes, and they always will be.” He rolls his eyes, and I rest my hands on his shoulders and squeeze gently.
“Don’t let them take it away from you. You deserve to have someone, and anyone who writes gross things on Reddit can suck my dick. ”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he laughs. “That’s the pep talk? They can suck your dick?”
“All I’m saying is if you’re interested in someone, don’t let the thought that there might be some invasive interview questions stop you. They already know you’re gay. Force them to prove they have your back.”
“The team does. And so do the refs—they don’t allow slurs—it’s the public I’m worried about.”
“Who gives a fuck about them?” Hemi opens his mouth. “And don’t say you. They should not dictate your life or sexuality.” I shake him slightly and wait until he nods meekly before I release his shoulders and grin at him. “So what’s this guy’s name?”
His brows come together. “I don’t remember.”
“Well, what are his interests?”
“All I remember is Charlie saying he doesn’t follow rugby.”
I scrunch my nose at him. “Really?”
“She thinks it will be good for me.”
“But not watching rugby? What happens when you have an awesome game and he doesn’t get it?”
He shrugs. “Probably the same if he was a mathematician. I’d nod, be supportive, and understand nothing.”
I blink at him. “I guess that makes sense. Lots of couples don’t have any interest or understanding of the other’s job.
Is that what you want? Someone who doesn’t watch rugby?
” If he does then that rules me fully out of the running.
Not that I was ever there to begin with, even if his flirting gave me some hope.
He’s silent for a while, staring off into space thinking about it, and finally says, “I don’t know.”
“Maybe he’s not the guy for you then. All I’m saying is if you find someone you’re interested in, don’t let the idea of public opinion stop you.” I spin to follow the path and after a few steps, I hear him crunching behind me.
“For someone who barely spoke to me the first day I was here, you certainly have a lot to say.”
I wince and try to ignore the jab but still turn to frown at him and open my mouth to respond, unsure what I’m going to say. I’d left him alone deliberately, but I think that was a mistake.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’ve enjoyed hearing everything you’ve had to say.” I nod and relax. There are steps to climb now and I refuse to fall down them. “Staying with you and listening to your thoughts. It’s been nice.”
Heat spreads through my chest, and my hands tingle, wanting to clutch his face and wrap him in a hug, but I keep my focus on the steps. “I’m glad.”
We reach the top of the stairs and walk silently for a while. Until we reach the first lookout.
“Holy fuck.”
“That is something.” I walk to the edge, pass the wooden seats, and stand as close as is safe.
Mountains rise in front of us, creating a valley where we’re standing. Greenery dusted in white covers the valley and surrounds us. Water flows from the highest point where no trees grow, and to the very edge of my vision is the glacier.
“Look.” I point at the white creeping down towards the water, covering the black rock.
Hemi stands behind me and fits his face over my shoulder. “Wow.”
I glance at him and don’t take my eyes off him. “Yeah, wow.”
His hazel eyes meet mine, and he grins. “Let’s take a break.”
I nod and follow him to the bench and dig out my notebook. Taking the food he passes me, I click my pen on and scribble down thoughts about the landscape, things I can use for work, threads of thoughts that could weave the plot together.
We eat quietly and take it all in while I fall deeper into my notebook.