Page 51 of After the Siren

Chapter Twenty-Five

People had said that finals were different in Melbourne, but Theo hadn’t really gotten it until he was in it .

The whole city was suddenly permeated with buzzing energy, an undercurrent of anticipation.

Everywhere Theo went there were footy caps, footy scarves; he’d bought Eva a Falcons beanie and she was actually wearing it.

He’d get a morning coffee and the barista would be chatting with the regulars about injuries and ins and outs.

Dogs were wearing footy jackets and footy bandanas.

If a player left training early or took a moment too long to get up, it was on the evening news.

The Falcons had finished unexpectedly high on the ladder after some upsets.

Theo wasn’t getting much attention in the media, because he’d been playing well and wasn’t nursing a niggling injury, whereas Yelks’ shoulder alone was probably paying a journalist’s salary.

Everyone knew it wasn’t right, and Theo suspected Yelks was playing through serious pain.

But losing him would be so much more than losing their best defender: half of what Yelks did on the field was coaching, setting things up, marshalling the troops, pulling someone aside for a quick word at a stoppage.

So he was still playing every week, even though there were shadows under his eyes like bruises and he moved like he was in pain when he thought nobody was watching.

Brayden Hunter had written a whole opinion piece about how Yelks should bow out, how he wasn’t up to it, and Theo – who’d never had particularly strong feelings about any of his captains – would have happily broken Hunter’s laptop over his head.

Theo knew his place in the team for the finals was secure, absent some disaster; Rigger was still in the middle, and there was nobody else really pushing for Theo’s spot.

It felt strange to go to training without the spectre of being dropped hanging over him.

It could still happen – could happen to anyone – but it didn’t feel like a present threat. Just a reality of the game.

Sometimes in the evenings, when he was wiped out, or in the early morning when he woke up before his alarm, the anxiety got louder.

He remembered last year, that last kick, his shaking hands, the roar of the crowd.

But it wasn’t last year. It was different.

And it was hard to be stressed about finals when he could roll over and bury his face in Jake’s hair.

When Jake was there in the morning to make him laugh.

When Jake was so obviously delighted to be playing finals, and so endlessly confident that they could win.

They’d decided they’d tell the team they were together once finals were done.

It was probably pushing it a bit, but there wasn’t anything in their contracts that said they had to disclose a romantic relationship (Eva had checked).

Kat knew, and if something happened that meant someone else needed to know before the end of the season, then Jake and Theo would tell them.

The Falcons had finished third, meaning they’d get a second chance even if they lost the qualifying final. Theo knew there was a lot of water to clear between the end of the regular season and a flag, but it didn’t feel impossible. And if they didn’t make it, well, there was always next year.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Jake asked, plonking himself down next to Theo’s locker. They’d had a light training session, and Jake had grass stains all down one side from a tackle.

‘Finals,’ Theo said.

Jake grinned. ‘I love finals.’

‘We’ve never played real finals,’ Paddy pointed out.

‘Finals footy is different,’ Tenders agreed.

‘You’ll love it,’ Yelks said.

Theo had never heard anything as loud as the crowd during the semi-final.

He could barely hear the whistle; he had no chance of hearing what anyone was yelling.

The qualifying final the previous week had been loud, but not like this.

Tonight a loss would mean their season was over, and the fans were backing them accordingly.

The crowd was evenly split between the teams. Whenever anything happened, the nearest pocket of the crowd would erupt, their reaction rippling around the stadium in both directions, half exaltation and half abuse.

Theo managed a couple of deep breaths, watching the stoppage.

They were four points down with probably two minutes to go.

He’d played a solid game. Set up a couple of good goals.

But they’d lost Yelks in the second quarter with a dislocated shoulder, and Tommy had limped off ten minutes later.

Raze had definitely broken some ribs in a smother, but he’d had them strapped and was still on the field, pale under his tan.

It was a brutal, grinding game that felt like a war of attrition.

Theo wasn’t sure he’d ever run harder. It was only determination and pickle juice keeping his legs from cramping.

Tenders had been right. Finals footy was different.

Faster, harder, more brutal. Everything ratcheted up a few notches, and the umpires were ready to let a bit more go.

The Falcons had missed their chance in the qualifying final by two goals.

Missed the chance of a week off and a home preliminary final.

They’d come back swinging in this game, but the Currawongs were a good team, and without Yelks the back line had been battling to keep their two key forwards contained.

Theo stayed on the move, holding his space.

The umpire balled it up almost dead in the middle of the ground.

The tap went the Falcons’ way and Raze grabbed it, bursting out of the centre.

He got it on his boot just in time to get crunched, and Theo couldn’t even look back to check if he was okay.

He probably wasn’t. The ball pinged into the forward line, got knocked loose, and Theo was on the edge of the arc, locking it in.

Paddy picked it up and immediately got sandwiched by two Currawongs players.

The whistle blew and Paddy tossed the ball to the umpire.

Theo could almost feel the crowd underneath his sternum. It was like the buzz of bass when you got too close to a speaker. The sign on the bench said forty-five seconds.

The ball went up and the Currawongs’ ruck thumped it towards the arc.

Jake was there, running through, scooping the ball up.

His back was to the goals and he didn’t have time to get around.

Theo led hard, screaming for it, and got a couple of metres on his direct opponent.

It should have been impossible for Jake to hear him over the roar of the crowd, but maybe he did hear, or maybe he saw Theo in his peripheral vision, or maybe he just kicked it and hoped, but he got the ball on his boot and it smacked neatly into Theo’s chest. The siren blared and the crowd was howling.

Theo sucked in a breath. For a second, he was a year in the past, the ball in his clammy hands, knowing that this was it , this was the moment.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, and a familiar voice in his ear.

‘You’ve fucking got this,’ Jake said. Theo looked into his eyes, blue and certain. ‘You’ve fucking got this. Breathe. ’

Theo glanced across at the bench as he walked back.

Kat and Xen were on the edge of the boundary, both shouting.

Kat caught his eye and held up two hands to say steady.

Theo could hear Paddy’s accent, though he didn’t know what he was saying.

Could see Raze shouting encouragement, one hand pressed against his side, almost doubled over with pain.

He took out his mouthguard and tucked it into his sock.

Took a breath, then another. Spun the ball in his hands.

The man on the mark was shouting, but Theo didn’t hear it.

Didn’t hear anything except Jake’s voice in his head.

You’ve fucking got this. He could see Jake out of the corner of his eye, exchanging compliments with a Currawongs player, grinning like Theo had already kicked the goal.

Theo exhaled. Thought about Kat. Thought about Yelks.

Thought about lying on the beach on a summer’s day and the way something had shifted these past few months, clicked into place.

He let everything wash away in the tide until all he could feel was the ball in his hands, familiar.

He looked up at the goals, at the mass of colour and movement behind them.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Started to move.

The moment the ball hit his boot he knew he’d done it.

He struck it perfectly – maybe better than he’d ever struck a ball before. Smashed it through the centre of the posts, the ball clearing the outstretched fingers of the Currawongs fullback by a couple of metres.

He couldn’t hear anything. He was frozen, numb, but it was the opposite of the last time he’d felt the world go still around him.

Then the crowd erupted, a tsunami of sound, like someone had turned the volume back up.

The elation hit him like a punch and he grabbed the front of his jumper, pulling it away from his chest. Paddy got to him first, actually picked him up and spun him around, and then there were other hands on his back, on his hair, a mess of voices and shouting, a blur of colour and sound.

He looked up. Saw Jake. Couldn’t see anything else. Jake laughing, grinning. Jake in his arms, his legs wrapped around Theo’s waist. His hands were on Theo’s face, and he was leaning close.

‘I wanna kiss you so fucking badly,’ Jake said.

‘Do it, then.’ Theo felt giddy. Felt like time had stopped.

‘What?’

‘Kiss me. If you want to.’