It's all so fucking bizarre. Here before us, out of the clear fucking blue and with zero prep time, are Sid and Michelle, two people who have grown in stature in my head over the last year, and not in a good way.

But ... it's a funny thing about life. Maybe it's maturity (not something I'm often accused of), or making peace with things, or feeling more at home with myself given all that's happened, particularly this weekend, but as it turns out, it's pretty bloody hard to demonize people who're standing right in front of you, looking you dead in the eye ... and what Michelle ultimately ends up telling us in fact makes it impossible.

"Effy knows."

"Huh ?" I ask her, not getting it at first.

"Or at least suspects," she says, pointing to Maxxie and I, "you two, I mean."

I stand there for a beat, in stunned silence, before speaking.

"What are you talking about ? She couldn't. This all came down this weekend."

"She told me, Tone," she says, spoken with finality and assuredness, that in truth, is sort of freaking me out.

"But ... since when are you even in contact with her ?"

She takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Suddenly, couple of months ago, I get a text from her, out of the blue. Sid and I have been prevented by your family from visiting or contacting you for most of the last year - I don't know if you even know this – so getting a text from her suddenly was a bit strange, and here she's saying she needs to talk to me, that it's important, and stuff. So we talked."

"What the fuck did she say ?" I blurt, jumping down her throat the moment she hesitates.

"She said she'd begun to get these inklings, this like, incredibly intense energy between you two-"

"Fuck," Maxxie and I blurt.

"-starting to notice that you," she says indicating me, "would be depressed whenever you," she says, indicating Maxxie, "would leave, even just leave the room. That your face would fall, Tone, and you'd be antsy and upset, and it would only end when Maxxie came back, like an antidote to a sickness, she said. She said it was like you would be giddy whenever you'd see Max-"

"Shit," Maxxie and I say.

"Euphoric," she continues. "She said she started to think, 'my god, Tony's acting like he's in love.'"

Christ. Why is it so unnerving ? The knowledge that my little sister knows ? It absolutely ridiculous that I would feel this way – we plan on 'coming out' when we return, after all – and yet it's still so weirdly scary.

"So … what did you tell her ?"

"I said I thought it was ridiculous, and that you were still in recovery, so your emotions were liable to be all over the place, but then she said you were at 92%, and you were completely normal emotion-wise, the rest of the time, totally back to being yourself, except where Maxxie was concerned. She said the clincher was when you started acting jealous of his boyfriend."

"Oh, no," we both blurt.

"Christ," I add, "Does anyone else know ?"

"No, apparently not, but it's not like she could ask. She made me promise not to tell a soul." She turns to Sid. "I didn't even tell you."

"I wouldn't have believed it, anyway, frankly," Sid offers. "I guess I still don't. Given your history, Tone, I mean ..."

I shrug. I look off, dazed.

"It's not something you plan," I offer. "Just another in a series of life-changing things that happened; except this time it was good. Made everything worth it."

Maxxie leans close, at this, so that our shoulders touch, and reaches out a soft hand to hold onto my arm.

The four of us then stand there, pondering it all.

"I guess I just … couldn't imagine it," Chelle says. "It seemed impossible, given how well I knew you. So much so, that when Effy told me, all I could think – and I'm sorry, Max, but, all I could think was, did he influence this ? Because, how could it have happened, otherwise ?"

Max and I each start to speak when she cuts us off.

"I know it sounds terrible. But it's just an illustration of how impossible it seemed. But Effy said there was no fucking way. Cut me to the quick saying she knew you, Max, saw what kind of person you were the last year, and that you didn't have a manipulative bone in your body, and besides, there was no influencing Tony, she said," she laughs softly, "about anything."

We laugh. Christ, what a relief. We will have our battles, when we get back, but to know that one of them won't be with Effy is a humongous weight off my – our - minds.

"But to be brutally honest," she continues, "and I really am sorry about this … I still had my doubts. Which is shitty and low, I admit," She looks at us both, the sincerity evident in her eyes. "It's just that … like Sid said, you just didn't have any gay tendencies, ever, Tone – your whole life, so, I guess I felt like … I don't know … I was scrambling for answers, grasping at straws that there had to be some other explanation. Obviously Ef knows you guys better than I do."

We stand there, awkwardly. While my natural inclination is of course to leap to Maxxie's defense, the way she's put it all, so very inoffensively, despite the subject matter, crystallizes it in your mind, to your great surprise, as being perfectly understandable and rationale, even. Not right, not truthful, not nice, but not, I suppose, an entirely unfair conclusion to arrive at, or at least, consider. And by that same token, one hopes, not one that will be hard for a rational, fair-minded person to overcome.

"Thing is," I start to say, but she cuts me off.

"No. Like Maxxie said, you don't owe us an explanation, Tone; really."

"No," Max interjects. "Go ahead, Tone. It's okay to talk about it."

"Ya," I continue, "I wanna say this." I glance at Max, take a breath, and re-grip his hand before continuing. "Thing is … what you learn is ... it isn't about gay or straight, or whatever. It's about, y'know, just … love. You fall in love with the person. You don't fall in love with the gender. When somebody's right for you, when they're like, your total soul mate, and shit, when you've been to hell and back and you connect on every level," I shrug, "it's just sort of … perfect. And you don't fucking argue with perfect, y'know ?"

I glance again at Maxxie, and fuck if he isn't beaming. Total glowing love-beams radiating off him. Good – I didn't fuck it up, then.

When I look back at Chelle and Sid, they're watching us and almost sort of beaming, themselves. Suddenly they laugh.

"You do make a smashing couple," Chelle says.

"Ya," says Sid, "and fuck if the love vibes aren't hugely there," he laughs. "There's like, bolts of electricity running back and forth between you."

We, all four of us, laugh. It feels incalculably good.

"Tony," Chelle says, suddenly serious. "I just wanna say this, about everything that's happened. We admit it – Sid and I, we fucked up. We failed you, totally."

"Yup," Sid nods. "Not proud of it."

I try to say it gently as I can.

"What happened ?"

"We just," she continues, with emotion – it's clearly difficult for her to talk about,"we found it like, excruciating, seeing you like you were. That makes us weak, I guess, but at first, we were there all the time, pretty much every day – Maxxie can attest to this. I was absolutely terrified, everyone was, that you wouldn't wake up, that you'd just die, or be a vegetable, or whatever, and then when you did wake up, and you didn't know anyone, didn't recognize anyone – all of the past erased … Christ, it was just … it just became easier, less painful, to stay away. And … one day turned into the next, and pretty soon I hadn't been there in a week. And I argued with myself, got half way to hospital, and pictured you in that bed, and I'd make an excuse, and leave."

There's a bit of a pause. I mean, what can you say ?

"What was the thing you said, before," I ask, "about my family keeping you away ?"

She sighs huge, before continuing.

"Understandable, but ... both your mum and Effy were furious with Sid and I, and started actually physically prevented us from visiting – this happened numerous times. Which we totally understand. We did fail you. But we both called, Tone, and emailed and texted you, dozens of times, dozens, and Effy admitted to me later that she deleted all the messages and blocked both of our calls."

"Okay," interjects Sid, looking from her, to me, "but that was mostly once we started dating. Which I guess we both more understood. We were total pariahs in people's eyes."

"Betraying the sick boy," I offer, voice a bit shaky.

"Yes," Sid nods, his body language betraying his lingering guilt. "And as time went on, we figured the last people you wanted to see in the entire world was us, I mean, could there be any question about that ? So again, the only thing left to do was just ..." he takes a big breath … "stay away. Shitty as that was."

"We didn't know what the fuck else to do, Tone, honestly," Chelle says quietly. "We're so sorry."

"Totally," Sid nods. "It felt fucking awful."

Fuck, what an afternoon. There's just this ... huge pileup of emotions inside me … this threatening avalanche, which I feel like I need to be able to step back and process, lest a blood vessel burst …which Maxxie seems to sense, because he's gripping my hand extra tight. Please. I so don't want to be a tit, I so don't wanna lose it and start slobbering all over the sidewalk.

Why is it doing this to me ? These people are supposed to mean nothing to me, remember ? Ex-friends. Enemies. People I at one point could barely remember, though, yes, more and more memories pop up as time's been passing, but I've quickly snuffed them out. I've wanted to wash my hands of them, tell them, everyone, to go fuck themselves; reject my old life, pretend it never happened.

There's been a such a lot safety in anger all these months, in other words, in being the victim – something to hang my hat on, to blame, in part, for the oftentimes enormous chip on my shoulder. And now to suddenly hear the human side of it, to look into the pained and sincere faces of two people who it turns out, so obviously care, who still, it seems, obviously love me ... and it's pretty fucking overwhelming. All I can see is the tragedy of it all, the sadness and needlessness, and, despite what I've felt in my lowest moments, that it turns out, I was hardly the accident's only victim.

I'm trying not to let it show, these feelings – it's fucking embarrassing. I'm forcing myself to hold it in, to keep my face neutral …

Sid, thankfully, comes to my rescue.

"I don't mean to be an arsehole," he says, checking his watch, "but we have like, exactly twenty two minutes to make our train."

"Oh," I offer, thoroughly relieved, "okay."

"You guys staying over ?" Chelle asks.

"Ya," I nod, still in disbelief that I'm actually talking to them, that any of this has happened. "We're leaving first thing."

We stand there for an awkward beat, before Chelle reaches up suddenly, and pecks me on the cheek.

"I'm so glad we talked," she says. "I can't tell you."

"Me, too," I tell her, truthfully. "Really."

She shrugs. "Lucky fluke – Sid's cousin got him a free hotel room in Brighton, and we were gonna go last weekend, but we couldn't."

Sid approaches, and pats my arm quickly.

"You're looking good, Tone," he says, smiling. "Really healthy, like. Like your old self."

"Thanks. I feel great. Sorry again, um," I say, eying his semi-bruised cheek "about the punchup."

"S'okay," he shrugs, touching the spot. He turns to Max. "Sorry again, 'bout what I said. Really. I was just upset. Please don't take offense."

"Same here, Maxxie," Chelle adds. "Seriously. We both know what kind of person you are. We had no right."

"S'okay," he replies. "Forget it. We knew what people would think; it was inevitable." He shrugs. "It's just a matter of bringing them round."

She smiles. "I swear. All people will need to see is you two together – that'll bring 'em round."

"Right," he nods, laughing, squeezing my hand.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Chelle says to him, smiling sweetly.

"Oh," he says in surprise that she'd remembered. "Thanks."

"We really have to go, though. Sorry."

"Okay," I tell them, and a set of words come out of my mouth that I truly never thought to hear. "Maybe we'll see you round town, then, at some point."

"Ya," Sid says, smiling – beaming - "definitely; if you want; absolutely."

"Bye," they both say, hurrying off.

And then what can I do, except turn to Maxxie, and liquify ? My eyes well, spill over, and I'm sobbing to the point where he has to pull me quickly into a side alley, so the whole world doesn't wonder why some tall skinny kid is having a nervous fucking breakdown in the middle of the street.

He shushes me and holds me, and it just makes me bawl even more – I'm a complete emotional mess, and despite the blubbering, I realize ... most of it's good. I'm overwhelmed on every level to have seen them – wanting at first to grind them both into the ground, to rub their noses in what they'd done – only to have the entire year's buildup of resentment, pain and confusion, all the fury and venom disappear in the space of ten minutes ... simply through words, through understanding and empathy. I mean, wow. HUGE.

"Shhh," Max says, holding me and kissing my neck. "It's okay, my angel. It's alright. Shhh."

Completely understandable, them staying away, that's what keeps hitting me; not excusable perhaps, but understandable. As I've thought many times before, had it been Maxxie, or maybe anyone in that bed in place of me, the person I was back then would have fled, too. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck. It doesn't mean it's right. It just is.

"S'okay, Tone," he tells me, tenderly caressing my back.

To think my family deliberately kept them away, and on top of that, didn't even tell me …

To think Effy KNOWS ! Fucking knows ! And had the smarts not to pin it on Max. Always was an exceptional girl.

Why did she not say anything ? Why did she not come to me, if she suspected ?

Hoping it wasn't true ? Or if it was, that it would pass ?

Undoubtedly.

Christ.

What did she think about us going to Brighton ? Interesting that she hasn't texted or called the whole weekend – unusual, for her.

And now to return home and face these same sort of confrontations with everyone we know, all of whom will blame Maxxie.

This has been good practice, then, hashing it out with Sid and Chelle, helping produce the one big epiphany I hadn't previously grasped – that it's truly not about gender – it's about love, you idiot.

I calm myself, taking several deep breaths, drinking in his always pleasing scent, and lay my head out on his shoulder, nose edging tips of blonde hair where it spills over the collar, feeling safe; completely content. We stand there, quietly, for long moments, and it's like I'm floating; we both are, above it all; his energy giving me strength, his compassion, his love, filling me, sealing up the hole in my soul.

I press my lips into his flesh and hold them there, sealing our bodies together, sealing out the world, my heart swelling by the second.

"I love you so much," I whisper. "More than anything. You have no idea."

.

"I love you too, Tone," I tell him, my eyes pooling, heart swollen to the size of Jupiter. We stand there for ages, holding each other in a long, emotional hug, at some point during which, we find ourselves moving in a slow, easy sway.

I pull my head back and look at him, grinning, teasing.

"You gonna slow dance with me ?"

He grins shy.

"Maybe."

We part.

"You okay ?" I ask, cupping his face.

"Ya. This has just been … I don't know why I fell apart like that. It just hit me, hugely."

"I think it was maybe the whole last year landing on you at once."

"Ya, ya," he nods. "Totally. It conjured it all up." He looks off. "Fuck. I can't believe this just happened. I can't believe we talked."

"It was good, though."

"Fucking good. Incredible. It's like all the water's under the bridge now. All the bad shit." He looks at me. "Do you think ?"

"Ya. I think it was fate, or something. This has been lingering for so long, and it was damaging. To everybody, it turns out."

"What about what they said about you, though ?"

"Well of course that sucked, but we both knew it already, Tone. People are gonna blame me. But, here was a perfect example of how we handle it. How we can turn them around. And it worked, I think."

"Ya," he smiles broadly. "Did, totally. And it wasn't even that bad; do you think ?"

"It went about as well as could be expected."

I take his hand. We kiss softly.

"So what do we do now ?" he asks. "I need a drink."

I begin pulling him out of the alley and towards the sidewalk.

"Let's eat."

Over a late lunch at a fancy restaurant overlooking the water – our first big splurge - we stuff ourselves, and hotly discuss ... the pending return home, my own painful coming out, strategies to handle it all.

He rolls his food around with a fork.

"I'm not looking forward to it."

"Of course you aren't. We don't have to dive into it the second we get home, you know. We can wait, if you want."

He shakes his head slowly.

"Nah. I just don't see the point in prolonging the inevitable. Plus I don't wanna be sneaking around with you, hiding."

I nod. "I know." I touch his hand. "It'll be okay Tone. We'll get through it. Every gay kid goes through it, sooner or later."

He looks at me.

"So, am I gay ?"

God. This again.

"Tony, it's not really for me to decide. Personally, I'm betting you're maybe bi, at most. You haven't exactly grown up dreaming of cock, and I can't see you never being with a girl, ever again-"

He shakes his head.

"-I have zero interest."

"You have zero interest right now because you're obsessed with me." I grin. "People do tend to get that way, but that doesn't mean, some day-"

"-Nah, I don't wanna think about 'some day'", he smiles broadly, "I'm plenty happy with my present obsession, thanks. Tickled, as it happens."

I laugh.

"Good."

"Let's get the fuck outta here," he says, gulping down the last of his drink.

"Yes," I say, flagging down the waitress for our check, "enough melodrama for one day, let's get to the fucking beach, already."

"Rides, Max. I need the sensation of being scared shitless one more time before we leave. Only thing that'll clear my emotion-addled brain."

"Alright, alright; then the beach, agreed ?"

"Agreed."

After a solid hour of spinning, twirling, near-hurling, being flipped violently upside down and back, and generally screaming both my lungs raw, we make our wobbly-legged way round the trinket and souvenir tables, and then stumble home to the hotel.

"Phew," I bluster, plopping myself down in a chair. "What a fucking day. Feels like twelve days. Brighton's easily aged me a couple o' decades."

He comes in from the loo and stands before me, grinning.

"You still look pretty fucking hot, for an old guy."

"I'd look better if the bloody rides wouldn't muss my hair," I pout.

"Poor Maxxie," he laughs.

"Let's get some colour, Tone. We'll both look better. Our last bit of beach before we leave."

He runs a single finger up into my hair, and grins crooked.

"Sure you wanna go out there, again ?"

I look up at him, bring the hand down from my hair and grasp it.

"I'm a bit queasy from the rides; aren't you ?"

"Nope."

"I guess I ate too much beforehand, which didn't help. Let's laze around on the beach, rest some, get our energy back ..." I smile. "And then we can go all night."

He nods.

"Good," he says. "So we're on the same page. I'm holding you to it - sleep's officially not in the cards."

On the beach we enjoy a quick, leisurely swim before laying ourselves out on a single large beach towel, which of course, leads to much giggling, teasing, and activities bordering on foreplay. I'm in fact, rolling on top of Tony, squealing and grabbing for his hands, trying to prevent them from throwing sand into my swimming trunks, when a woman walking by suddenly stops to admonish us.

I look. She's holding the hand of a drooling, whining, two-year old whose red, tear-streaked face is smeared in melted chocolate.

"This isn't a gay beach, you know !" She says, all uppity and rude.

"Well, it isn't a straight one, either !" Tony snaps.

She looks mildly shocked. And, apparently having no rebuttal, walks off in a huff, after which, following a respectful pause, we burst out laughing.

"Holy shit," I tell him. "I thought she was gonna hit you !"

"Fuck her. Not our fault she doesn't get to tumble round in the sand with anybody-"

"-And she's stuck babysitting a snot-nosed kid all day."

"Right," he laughs.

"What gets me about straight people is that they actually think they own the world, you know ? Like they're the only ones in it. I've seen countless examples of this. Seriously – had we been boy and girl messing round in exactly the same way, you think she would have said a word ?"

"Whatever. With any luck, her fucking kid will grow up queer."

After finally settling down and squeezing ourselves to fit side by side on the blanket, we almost immediately fall asleep, and when we finally wake up, over an hour and a half later, find that we each have some semblance of colour – mine mostly coming in the form of a reddish nose and collar bone, whilst Tony has a beautiful tinge of a bronze, spread evenly across his torso.

"Wow," I shriek, sitting up quick. "Look at you !"

He does, perusing himself.

"What's the big deal ?"

"You look hot !"

"I thought you liked pale, Maxxie. You always go on about it."

"That's cuz I've never seen you like this. Plus," I say excitedly, "tan lines ! !"

"Huh ?" he asks, looking at me like I'm mental, as I stand, gather our shit, and yank determinedly on his hand.

In the hotel lobby, at the last second I quickly veer off into the gift shop.

"What the hell are you doing ?" he calls after me.

"Just hit the button for the lift ! I'll be there in a sec !" I call back.

"We already got condoms !" he yells after a beat, as I scurry, purple-faced toward the cashier.

A moment later I'm rushing toward him as he stands with his back holding open the lift door, which is beeping incessantly and repeatedly trying to shut, drawing the ire of the hotel desk clerk, the bellhop, and several waiting guests, this being the building's only lift.

"Sorry," he says to them, as I scurry inward. "Just holding it for my boyfriend, here."

As we slowly begin our ascent, Tony, who stands on the opposite end from me, begins grinning. "What'd you get ?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "What was so important ?"

"Nothing," I blurt. "Shut up."

An old woman standing by me then scolds me.

"Tsch. That's no way to talk to your boyfriend."

Tony looks from her to me and busts out laughing.

"Ya !" he shouts triumphantly, as the lift slows and stops, door opens, and everyone begins filing off. "You tell 'im, gramps !"

As she walks by him on her way out, you can hear it just under her breath.

"Oh, shut up."

As the doors close and the lift begins climbing again, he's all over me, trying to grab the object behind my back, but I keep swinging deftly away at the last second – as a dancer, I am a tad more swift and graceful than Tony.

Ding !

The door opens, and I'm sprinting down the long hallway squealing in delight at having evaded his final grasp, holding the object in front of me so he can't see, quickly jerking the card into the key slot before he can reach it, and playfully shutting it in his face.

"Maxxie, what the fuck ! Let me in, already !" he says, pounding with his fist.

I'm giggling away, letting him stand there a moment. "What's the password ?"

"Cock !" He shouts, before I open it a hair.

He bursts through, looking round quickly, and I leap onto his back from behind the door, kissing his ear and babbling like a maniac.

"Tan lines ! Tan lines, do you hear me ? !"

"Fucking perv !" He laughs as I jump off and begin pushing him towards the bed.

"Lay back" I hiss, "and don't undress. I'll have to check you."

"I should shower. I'm all sandy and sweaty," he says, raising a hand to sniff his own armpit. "I stink."

"Tony," I whisper, pushing him back on the mattress via a single finger to the chest, and climbing aboard, "if you think the smell of pure, raw man is any sort of turn-off for me ..."