Page 123 of Begin Again Again

“Maybe.” Byron steered her away from the crowd. “Come on. I know a better spot to watch the waves.”

He led her up a sandy path to a rocky shelf and they arranged themselves, Beth between Byron’s legs, a blanket over both of them.

“This is really beautiful,” she said, staring out at the dark ocean.

“Yeah, it’s my favourite spot.”

“Thanks for bringing me.”

“Anytime.”

They watched the people below drink and party. They screamed a lot, swinging their arms and yowling at the sky. The guys challenged each other to sculling competitions, downing longneck beers in seconds. Beth wondered if she was becoming a dork in sobriety or if the party seemed particularly out of control. A guy in a white t-shirt staggered to the shoreline and heaved into the water. She and Byron winced.

“I think it’ll be like this for a while,” he said. “Everyone’s pent up. Having the restrictions fuck up New Year’s is probably the final straw.”

He pulled out his phone and began playing music Beth didn’t recognise. It was instrumental and kind of eerie. “What’s this?”

“Just something.”

She snuggled closer. “Okay, Man of Mystery. It’s nice.”

“Cool.”

The music swelled, a strange echoing sound that along with the screaming partygoers, made Beth feel like it was the end of the world. One of the guys on the beach had produced a mountain bike. He stood it in the sand and attempted to ride it. It got stuck and he fell over, pinning his leg beneath the bike.

Beth gasped as he howled in pain. “Fuck. Should we—”

“He’s okay,” Byron murmured. “He’s getting up, see?”

Beth watched the guy stagger upright, dragging the bike away with the help of his laughing mates. She’d be so scared to walk past them if she was with Stephen. She would have been worried someone would say something to them and he’d flip out. Pick a fight he couldn’t win. With Byron that didn’t seem like the remotest possibility. Beth turned to face her lover in the dark. “Did you ever get sucked in by hecklers? While you were playing football, I mean?”

Byron blinked. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Beth fought her instinct to ask again and did what he said he’d appreciated—she gave him space. She watched the waves, listened to the weird music, stared at the marauding drunks.

“Nah, I didn’t mind heckling. I wasn’t trying to block it out or anything. It just never mattered.”

“So, what did matter?”

“Being there. Playing the game.”

“You loved it, didn’t you?”

Another pause. “Yeah. To be honest, when it was over—when I really knew it was over, I thought I’d never be happy again.” He cleared his throat. “I know that sounds melodramatic, but it’s how I felt.”

Beth waited, praying there was a ‘but.’

“Funny how things change,” he said, as though to himself. “You don’t have to try. You move on just by staying alive.”

“I think we all get to where we need to go eventually.” She pressed her hand to his. “But it’s okay to still struggle with the past.”

He didn’t say anything. A firework burst along the beach, spattering red and blue sparks everywhere. The crowd whooped and hollered, and Byron pulled her closer. Shit seemed like it was about to go down and Beth wanted to be ready. She stood. “Time to pee in the shadows.”

“Want me to walk you up to the public toilets instead?”

She looked out at the maze of New Year’s partygoers. “I’m happy to go in the shadows, as long as you don’t judge me?”

“Never.”

“Okay, well… don’t watch.”

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