It was pissing down outside.
Ryan returned to the table and sat down. “Fuckin’ Queensland, hey? Beautiful one day, flooded the next.” He sipped his cold beer. “But mate, look, just so you know, I … fuck … like, I mean … if you’re happy, that’s all that matters. I just hope Abby’s OK, and if you see her, please say g’day from me. In the meantime, just be careful with that scrawny punk. He’s got the body of a scrumhalf. You could snap him in half if you’re not careful.”
The mechanic raised his glass, chuckling a little. “I said that to him. I told him he looked like a scrumhalf. He had no idea what it meant. I had to explain.”
Ryan smiled and shook his head in mock disbelief. “And you’re wasting a ticket to the game on someone who doesn’t know anything about rugby?”
Mack smiled. “Let’s talk about how shit the government is.”
Ryan laughed. “That’s my favourite subject.”
They talked for a while longer. Mack was relieved beyond belief that one of his best friends expressed no judgment, wanting only to know whether he was happy. It warmed his heart. After they finished their beers, they stood and hugged, committing to meet up before the big game next weekend.
Ryan went to the bathroom, desperate for a piss, while Mack ran outside into the monsoonal torrent. He sprinted across the road and stood under a shelter. He watched the heavy rain tumble down as he waited for the next bus. Lightning flashed nearby.
The mechanic sheltered from the rain, wondering if this was what happiness felt like. He felt like a reptile that had shed its skin. A violent sub-tropical weather system swirled and smashed around him, but inside, he’d rarely ever felt so settled and calm.
He reflected on those nervous moments in the pub bathroom earlier tonight, genuinely unsure whether he was ready for the conversation looming in front of him, and not knowing what the consequences might have been. It’s easy to be courageous on the rugby field, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to be courageous in life. When a bloke runs onto the field, he’s prepared for eighty minutes of brutal physical mayhem, but at the end of the game, one team wins and one team loses, hands are shaken, showers are taken, and everyone goes home.
Life is different. Rugby is tough, but life is tougher. Coming out to his mate was one of the hardest things Mack had ever done in his life.
Through the blinding rain, he saw the headlights of his bus approaching. He stepped on board, swiped his Go card, and took a seat. The people’s chariot ferried him home, and for a few brief moments, it felt like the world stood still.