13. Seb

13

Seb

I kneel on the tussock, trying to hold the fluffy chick tightly enough to keep it still but not damage the white feathery down covering its body. It makes small peeping sounds, and its dark eyes blink up at me.

I send a nervous look to the parent bird sitting on the nest only a few feet away. The parent bird seems to regard our intrusion with remarkable nonchalance, as if having humans handle its chick is just another mundane part of albatross parenting, right up there with regurgitating fish and nest maintenance.

My supervisor Brett takes what looks to be a pillowcase out of his bag.

“Now, you just put the chick in here, and we’ll weigh it,” he instructs.

“Is that a pillowcase?” I ask.

He flashes me a grin. “Never say we don’t use the latest, state-of-the-art equipment.”

When Marcus and I came out to Taiaroa Head, we paid money to watch the albatrosses flying from a distance. It’s almost unbelievable that now I’m getting paid during my summer internship to hold one of the chicks.

I place the chick gently in the pillowcase.

“That’s right. Now, attach the weighing scale to the top,” he says.

Trying to keep my hands from shaking and dropping the pillowcase with the precious cargo, I do exactly as Brett instructed.

I read the measurement aloud. “One point two kilograms.”

Brett notes that on his tablet.

“Now, just take the chick out and return it to the nest.”

I obey, carefully putting the fluffy baby back in the nest.

Keeping track of the weight of all the chicks in the albatross colony is an important part of the conservation of this species, allowing scientists to identify any potential issues early and hopefully intervene before it’s too late.

This is seriously the best internship ever.

And it’s good that my mind has had things to occupy itself over the last few months.

Especially today.

Because Saskia and Marcus arrived home yesterday, and he still hasn’t messaged me. I’m trying not to think about that. I’m trying not to pick up my phone and check for messages.

Unfortunately, I’m failing epically at least fifty times an hour.

Today, though, with Brett here, along with the cuteness and importance of my task, I’ve managed to avoid checking my phone for the last couple of hours.

It’s not until we’re back in the car and Brett is cheerfully talking about the ecological importance of wetlands on the drive back to the city that I give in to temptation and slide my phone out of my pocket to sneak a look.

No new messages.

My chest tightens. The phone suddenly feels heavy, as if it holds the weight of my disappointment.

To make matters worse, tonight is the weekly dinner with Saskia and my parents.

How will I sit through Saskia talking about all the fun she had with Marcus for the past two months?

Saskia’s late arriving to dinner, which means at the start of the meal, I have the full quota of parental attention.

The dining room is filled with the aroma of Mum’s roast lamb. Dad’s busy carving the meat while Mum fusses with the green beans.

“So, how did bird watching go today?” Dad asks.

“I’m not just watching them. Today, I weighed the chicks.”

“Oh, that sounds…fun.” Dad’s got that look on his face, the one I always interpret as how did I end up with a son like this ?

My parents are generally supportive of me. I know how lucky I am that coming out wasn’t a big deal for me. I have a feeling they already suspected I was gay before I told them when I was fourteen. And Saskia has always been an outspoken LGBTQ+ ally, even before she became friends with Marcus.

I’m certain none of the disappointment I sense from my father has anything to do with my sexuality. Instead, it’s because I’m not the rugby-playing, popular head boy he expected.

But he’s had eighteen years to adjust to that reality.

Before I can continue to tell my parents about my internship, there’s the sound of the front door opening.

My heart starts to race.

Thudding footsteps sound along the hallway before the door to the dining room bursts open.

“There is the big traveler,” Dad says with a grin.

“Sorry I’m late,” Saskia says breathlessly.

We stand, and she gives us all big hugs.

Saskia’s tan and her hair is sun-bleached, making her look like she’s stepped right off a California beach. When she embraces me, the scent of her perfume washes over me.

For a moment, I’m torn between my happiness about having my sister back and my anxiety over what news she might share about Marcus. Do I really want to hear about all the fun they had, especially if it involves Marcus hooking up with other guys?

“Oh, I’ve got so much to tell you all,” Saskia says as she sits at the table. “But you’re not going to believe the biggest news!”

“What is it?” My mum looks so much like Saskia as she leans forward in anticipation that I blink.

“Marcus got discovered,” Saskia announces.

My stomach rolls at the sound of his name.

“What do you mean, discovered?” Mum asks.

“It was just like in the movies.” Saskia’s eyes are bright. “We were at this club in Las Vegas, and Marcus and I were dancing, and then this guy came up to Marcus and asked him if he’d ever considered modeling or acting.”

“What did Marcus say?”

“At first, he laughed it off, but the guy was insistent that Marcus could be the next big thing. Then he gave Marcus his card. We checked him out when we got back to the hotel, and he’s a legit agent. So Marcus called him, and the guy invited Marcus to stay with him in Los Angeles when we finished traveling. So Marcus changed his flights. He’s going to stay over there for a few weeks to see what happens. He just messaged me today to say he was getting headshots done.”

My head swirls.

“Can you believe it?” Saskia asks.

It feels like the room has tilted, as if the axis of my world has shifted. I grip the edge of the table to anchor myself.

Suddenly, the smell of the food is unappetizing, my stomach recoiling. I take a sip of water, hoping to wash away the nausea.

I don’t say what I want to say to my sister.

You were supposed to bring him back to me.