Page 149 of Begin Again Again

“Under sixteens,” Derek said without missing a beat. “Broke my collarbone right before finals. Had to watch them lose without me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, fuckingoh.” Derek stared at the blank TV as though there was something to see. “You know what? Shit happens. Every year I have to be better than the year before and every year it gets harder—but I keep going. I try not to think about it, and I go.”

“It works,” Byron reminded him. “You’re the best. You’re still on top.”

“It works because I make it work.” Derek turned from the TV to look at him. “You should think about doing the same, before you end up stuck in this house forever.”

Byron sensed their conversation was over, that he was on his own again. He thought of his favourite photo—him in the Hammerheads’ red and yellow, with his family and Audrey frozen around him. Beth couldn’t get a foothold in that past because she didn’t belong there. He couldn’t commit to defending Sal because it shattered the possibility they could be an old school family again. Maybe he wasn’t any better than his mum, posting old Facebook photos and ignoring Sal’s pronouns. Maybe he wasn’t better than his dad, refusing to talk to him about football now he didn’t play AFL?

He and Derek drank their beers in silence until something made Byron say, “I think I love Beth.”

“Congrats, bloke.”

“I love Beth,” he repeated, testing it out. It felt steady.

“Good to know.”

“You don’t get it. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone. I’ve liked girls, Audrey and other people, but the way Beth makes me feel… it just freaks me out.”

Derek nodded. “That’s awesome, mate. I mean it. I can tell she makes you happy.”

“You think I should call her?”

“Ah, maybe not right now?”

“Oh yeah. The drinking.”

Derek pulled out his phone. “Are you hungry? If I don’t eat, I’m gonna chuck.”

“Yeah, how about ribs? I’ll order. I’m the one who’s been a cunt.”

“Youhavebeen a cunt.” Derek smiled. “Ribs sound good.”

Byron managed to order brisket, BBQ fries and corn ribs from Fancy Hanks without any drama. “Want to put something on TV?” he asked Derek. “I don’t mind what.”

Derek chose The Witcher. They’d both seen it, but it didn’t matter. Derek loved that shit. Fake magic wars. He’d been gutted by the last season of Game of Thrones. Byron fidgeted as he watched Henry Cavil clock some dude in the head with a sword. The food would be here soon. He couldn’t wait to eat, shower and go to bed. To wake up mildly hungover and start unfucking this mess. Sort everything out. This was good. This wasexciting.

Derek picked up his beer. Put it down. Picked it up again. Byron frowned. “You okay, mate?”

He turned to him, hollow eyed. “Want to know something?”

Byron didn’t know if he wasn’t tipsy enough for this, but he nodded.

“I think I loved someone, once.”

Fucking hell. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, this girl I went to school with.”

He sounded miserable. Byron wanted to change the subject, bring up the food or anything else, but he remembered what Derek had just done for him—kept pushing even when Byron wanted to hit him. He unclenched his teeth. “What happened with the girl?”

Derek was silent for so long, he thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then, just as Byron was about to suggest fresh beers, Derek opened his mouth. “I got drafted and I thought we should break up, so we did.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I thought I knew what I was doing. But maybe we shouldn’t have…but we don’t talk anymore. We haven’t talked for, like, eight years.”

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