Page 27 of Don't Point at the Moon

“I never thought for one second you—”

“But the thought of being with the same person for the rest of my life makes me break out in hives. Waking up next to the same face. Having sex with the same person. It’s an unnatural state of being.”

“People do, though. What about your parents and grandparents? What about Sammi and Daley?”

“That’s different.”

“Because they’re straight?”

“No, that’s not it. I’ve met gay couples who fit together the same way. Your friends, Harold and William. As though something happened to them. You’ll understand when you get to meet my family. I know this sounds like a cliché, but they were always meant to be together. They make sense. I couldn’t imagine them with anyone else.”

“They’re two halves of a whole?”

“Another cliché, but exactly.”

“And you don’t see the same thing for yourself?”

“Nope.”

“And, just to be clear, none of your family have never met any of your past two-month dates?”

“Absolutely not.” Tommy turned to see Mitchell smiling at him again. “What?”

“I’m going to be the first man you’ve ever introduced to them? Wow, I’m honoured.”

“Yeah, well,” said Tommy, staring ahead. “Don’t let it go to your head. It’s a temp job, remember?”

Mitchell chuckled, and they continued on again in comfortable silence. Ahead of them, the route reached an apex, and the hikers in front disappeared over the top. They would be descending soon.

“Hey, Tommy,” said Mitchell, sounding pensive again. “I appreciate you sharing this personal stuff with me but you might not want to be as candid with Alec. Not to begin with. Find out more about him and what he wants first. Plenty of gay men are looking for that one person to share their lives with.”

Tommy hadn’t thought that far ahead. Mitchell had a point.

“Are you?” he asked Mitchell.

“I used to. But for some of us those things are not in the cards. Besides, I’m happy with who I am.”

Tommy could see the truth in Mitchell’s words. Somewhere during his life, he had made peace with himself.

“My sister thinks there’s something wrong with me,” said Tommy.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. We’re all put together differently, which is what makes people so amazing. And I’m sensing commitment doesn’t appeal. If things work out with Alec, and his life is in Australia, you could consider keeping things long distance. People say it’s a way to keep a relationship fresh.”

* * * *

At the end of the hike, Tommy collapsed onto one of the benches the authorities—or maybe the Red Cross—had kindly provided. For goodness’ sake, he taught physical education for a living and was no stranger to exercise. But after strolling along the beautiful beach at Long Ke Wan, the second leg of the hike had become progressively crueller, steep and relentless. They’d continued to chat until forced to make the not-so-difficult choice between talking or breathing. With his shoes and socksremoved, the heels of both feet hanging off the end of the bench sported bloody blisters.

Despite Mitchell being the more experienced hiker, he had stayed by Tommy’s side the whole way, matching him pace for pace. Only on the steep climbs, often over rocky terrain, did Mitchell excel, his shorter, sturdier form navigating the ascent effortlessly. Even so, he, too, was laid out on a bench seat and breathing heavily.

Devon appeared to have fared better than either of them, togged out in unflattering but clearly functional walking boots and something equally unfashionable that Mitchell labelled a caped hat, the kind with a flap at the neck worn by nerdy hikers to protect them from the sun. No doubt Oscar had schooled him on what to wear.

“What do you expect,” said Devon, standing over Tommy, holding out a tube of a thick and pungent antiseptic cream called Rambler’s Relief, “designer Nike trainers? Do you not know the old saying about hiking? Sun shines on the right shoes.”

To emphasise his point, Devon lifted a leg and thumped a heavy boot on the seat next to Tommy’s head. Mitchell’s barely suppressed laughter turned into a choking groan as he clamped his arms around his ribcage.

“Yeah,” said Tommy, unamused. “I’m fairly sure that’s not a saying, but a head’s-up might have been nice, friend.”

“Didn’t invite you, darling. Therefore you are not my responsibility.”

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