It's the summer break, and for the first time in his life, Mike would rather stay in the bloody classroom.<br><br>It's wedding season, and Mike is doomed to spend all summer sipping cheap champagne and pretending he likes tiny portions of posh food. From the passive-aggressive torment of Mike's mother-in-law to the insulting incredulity of his colleagues over what his mysterious husband actually looks like, Mike would voluntarily teach sex education to fourteen-year-olds for the rest of his life if it would only get him out of one more wedding. Even his husband in a kilt isn't going to save this one.<br><br>But there's nothing like watching someone else get hitched to remind him of where he's come from ... and where he's determined to go from here.

Married Ones

Hell, even Mike would have gotten married here, and cramped B&Bs were hardly his idea of wedding venue material.


Everything was set up in a great white tent, another usher standing by the open door like a bouncer at the world’s weirdest nightclub. More photos were taken, guests milling around excitedly. It was easily the gayest wedding Mike had ever seen—the binary dress code had been well and truly flipped, and there were honest to God feather boas floating about without a hint of insincerity. Mike was simultaneously startled—it was a bit like uni, really—and amused to see his staid, old-fashioned stepfather blithely gliding past a clutch of extremely butch lesbians without batting an eyelash.


The guests were settling. Mike glanced about uneasily. Where the hell was Stephen?


“You look lost, love.” One of Vikki’s aunts he vaguely recognised from big family events.


Chapter 43