Page 30

Colin

A pregnant silence fills the room.

I’m not sure what’s more shocking; the fact that the game is tied again or that a kicking competition will be used to decide who the winner will be. It happens, just not very often. I exhale heavily, my mind still reeling from the last ten minutes and everything that’s transpired.

Ellie coming back … Hearing her say she loves me …Telling her that I love her as well …My dad walking in on us almost having sex … And yes, my ears are still burning from that …Hearing him admit that he’s always been proud of me and finally learning what happened to him back in 2004.

I always knew there was more to his retirement than he was letting on, but he would become even more silent and closed off than usual whenever Bryce, Graeme or I tried to ask him about it. For years, the story was that a persistent injury to his knee cut his career short and he had no choice but to retire when he did.

Now I know the truth.

He almost died nineteen years ago.

And then he retired, not because of his knee or because of my mother’s anxiety after the accident, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of coming so close to losing his family again. It makes so much sense now, why he always pushed my brothers and me so hard. Why he emphasised how important it was for us to focus on our game. Why he worked tirelessly, day and night, to make us into the best we could be and why he encouraged us not to fall in love with anyone. It also explains why he campaigned so hard to have spear tackles banned from rugby. This wasn’t about us being distracted. He didn’t want us to have anything to lose, because if you walk out onto that field knowing you have something to lose and fearing you will (like he did) then you won’t play as hard or take as many risks.

You’ll hold back because deep down you’re scared.

Your career might as well be dead already.

We’re taught to do everything we can to win, but I’ve always known that my priorities would change if I ever fell in love. I’m not delusional enough to think otherwise. Now that I’ve found Ellie, I’ll always hesitate and weigh out the danger before I throw myself into it just so I can walk away (hopefully unscathed) and see her again. I’m okay with that. It doesn’t mean I won’t try my hardest or that my devotion and dedication to my team will waver. I’ll give it my all, every single time. I’ll just know where my limits are as well. The trick is not to let that fear rule your life, because fear can kill just as easily as confidence can.

I know who I am, what I’m made for and what I want.

I’m a rugby player and I want Ellie in my life, at my side and with me every step of the way.

Why can’t I have both?

My father and brother have their backs turned to us, busy discussing something privately. I can feel Ellie’s eyes drilling into me intently, trying to read my mind and figure out what I’m going to do next. I look at her, taking in her stunningly beautiful face and her soft features, seeing her mouth quirk upwards. A smile pulls a t my lips as well, because the answer is obvious.

I can have both and I will.

It’s only when I start peeling off the ice pack strapped to my shoulder that my dad and Bryce turn their attention to me again.

“What are you doing?” My father asks pointedly. Concern flickers in Bryce’s eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

I walk over to the chair where my jersey was discarded earlier, giving my shoulders an experimental roll. I wince slightly, pain slicing through my nervous system like a hot knife through butter. My shoulder isn’t broken, it wasn’t even dislocated, but it did take the full brunt of that fall earlier which means it’s swollen and already covered in a deep purple bruise that hurts like a motherfucking bitch every time I move it. The EMT recommended I sit the rest of the final out, to avoid stressing the joint or ligaments any further.

Technically, he didn’t say anything about not being able to kick though.

“No! Absolutely not, Colin. You’re not doing this!” My father starts frantically, “You’re injured. The EMT said –”

“– I know what he said Dad, but I’m the best kicker on the team and, right now, my team needs me.” I tug my jersey on over my head, pull my socks that have slipped down to my ankles back up over my calves and check to make sure that my boots are still tied securely. Satisfied, I stand up straight, turning to face him. “It’s just one kick, but it’s the kick that could make all the difference.”

My dad flattens his lips, frowning. He’s not happy. He probably wants to argue with me until he’s blue in the face about how much he disagr ees with this decision because it’s a risk he doesn’t want me to take. There’s a reason why everyone on the team tries their hand at goal-kicking at some point. The coaches need to know who can kick and who can’t. That way, when moments like this happen, no matter how rare they are, they know who to choose. Maybe the lads can do this without me. Maybe I don’t have to do this, but this isn’t about my lack of faith in them. I’ve trained myself to the bone. I’ve worked too hard and for too long to give up now. Everything has led to this moment.

I have to do this.

For them. For my dad. For me.

There’s no alternative.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, placing a hand on my good shoulder. “It’s just a game, Colin. It doesn’t matter if we win or lose. I’m proud of you no matter what happens tonight.”

Gratification courses its way through me hearing him say that again.

That’s not my coach talking, that’s my father.

“I know,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder as well, “But I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try just like I know you wouldn’t be able to either if you were in my position.”

My dad sighs, eying me begrudgingly because he knows I’m right.

“All right. Get yourself ready. I’ll make the arrangements.”

He turns to leave but stops and when he looks at me again, I see it.

I finally see it.

He really is proud of me.

“Good luck, son. ”

I dip my head a little, the corners of my mouth curling with a grin. “Thanks, Dad.”

He smiles as well, faintly, and then he’s gone.

Once he’s out of sight, I reach for Ellie’s hand again, threading my fingers with hers as I pull her out of the medical suite with Bryce hot on our heels. Just as we reach the entrance to the tunnel leading out onto the field, he grabs my good arm, stopping me.

“I know you just had this conversation with Dad, but know you don’t have to do this, right?” He says earnestly, “You’ve already done enough tonight, Col. There are probably several Premiership teams already drawing up contracts for you to pick from on Monday.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Winning was never a condition to getting signed, but what I choose to do now will make an impression regardless of the outcome.

My brother shifts on his feet, worry clouding his features . “ You’ve got nothing left to prove to anyone.”

“I know that too.” but that’s not why I’m doing this either.

I meet Ellie’s gaze and she smiles up at me warmly, because she gets it. This isn’t about getting signed, gaining glory or proving myself to anyone.

It’s about devotion.

“I have to see this through.” I tell my brother, “Besides, you’d do the same thing and you know it.”

I meant what I said, I’d never be able to forgive myself if I knew I could’ve made a difference today, but chose not to try instead. My knee feels good, a little sore, but well enough to kick and my shoulder will be fine. I can whither a little pain .

Bryce rolls his eyes, but a small smile peeks out as he shakes his head. “Yeah well, what do I always tell you?”

“Do as I say and not as I do.”

We both chuckle and I release Ellie’s hand, pulling him in for a strong hug. He and Graeme are part of the reason why I made it this far.

I’d be nothing without them.

Afterwards, I focus on Ellie again, my face and tone softening. “I’ll find you afterwards, okay?”

She grins, lifting herself onto her toes to peck my lips. “Give ‘em hell, babe.”

I smile, swooping in and stealing another quick kiss from her. It’s not nearly enough and I’m itching to pull her into my arms and kiss those delectable lips of hers properly before I go out there, but Bryce drapes his arm over her shoulders, tugging her into his side before I can.

“Come on, Ellie-bear there’s a seat on the sideline bench with your name on it.”

She throws a playful jab into his stomach for using her forbidden nickname and he doubles over, smiling and laughing through a cough. I watch them exit onto the field together, then I take a moment to calm my nerves before I jog down the tunnel as well. The second the crowd spots me running on the field; a deafening roar of applause and cheers follows me and a voice over the loudspeakers announces my return for the penalty shootout.

Electricity zips up my spine. My heart pounds at a rapid pace and sweat beads on my forehead.

I can do this .

My teammates look overjoyed when they see me and I smile as they step aside and make some space, welcoming me into the huddle to discuss our strategy with Vinnie.

A penalty shootout in rugby is as simple as it sounds.

Five players from each team have to attempt to kick the ball through the goalposts from the twenty-two-metre line. Whoever gets the most kicks wins. By the time the referee blows the whistle to signify the start of the contest, we’ve decided that the first kick will be taken by Timothee, our flyhalf, the second by Harry, the third by Mace, the fourth by our scrumhalf Charlie and that I’ll take the last one. As the best kicker on the team, I’d normally kick first, but with my knee and shoulder compromised, I don’t want to jinx our chances.

The five of us line up to start while the rest of the players stand off to the side or sit down on the grass, anxiously waiting to see what the outcome will be. An ear-splitting cheer from the crowd blasts over the entire stadium when the ref blows his whistle and the shootout gets underway.

Both Timothee and Bancroft’s flyhalf; Connor Mason manage to convert their kicks with ease. Harry sends his one soaring straight over the crossbar, but so does Bancroft’s second kicker; Leo Richards. Energy and nervous tension sparks around the stadium. We’re currently sitting neck and neck at 2:2 and hope blooms inside me even further when Mace gets his kick through the posts, but Bancroft centre; Garret Emerson just misses his by a hair. The Admiral supporters nearly explode when that happens, but their happiness doesn’t last very long unfortunately, because either the noise or the nerves get to Charlie and he misses our fourth kick while Bancroft’s scrumhalf; Mario Anatoli puts his one over easily, bringing us level again at 3 all .

Naturally, the kicker I’d end up having to go up against would be Marco.

He should’ve taken an earlier slot like I would’ve if I wasn’t injured, but when he throws a churlish smirk my way as I step forward to take my kick, I know he’s done this on purpose. He probably thinks the injury his Neanderthal of a friend; Wayne inflicted on my shoulder will hurt my chances of making the kick. That way, when he lands his one and wins the game for Bancroft, it’ll boost his mammoth-sized ego even more.

I’ll make sure it won’t happen though.

He won’t have the satisfaction of humiliating me. Not this time.

Marco is a great kicker, even I can’t deny that, but even with an injury, I’m still better than him. In all likelihood, I’ll get my kick and he’ll get his as well. Then this will have to be decided another way.

I finish balancing the ball on the kicking tee and straighten up, stepping back two paces first and then positioning myself to the left. I roll my wrists, bouncing on the balls of my feet as part of my kicking set-up. My heartbeat slows. Adrenaline unleashes an inferno underneath my skin. The deafening noise around me dies and all the faces in the stands turn to smoke, vanishing before my eyes except for one.

The only person I need to see.

I turn my head slightly, finding Ellie. She’s on her feet, her hands clasped together and her lips pressed into her tightly knotted fingers. Her eyes are fixed on me as well and I take a deep breath, drawing in the strength I can feel her sending my way. I focus back on the ball again, glancing between it and the posts .

Once.

Twice.

Then I move, not even flinching from the pain rupturing in my shoulder when I swing my arm back and my foot connects with the ball perfectly.

I don’t watch it. I don’t even check to see if it goes over the crossbar of the posts like I usually do.

I already know it will.

I cast my cool eyes towards a rather pissed-off-looking Marco instead, the silent challenge clear in my stare.

Your move, dickhead.

The crowd goes completely nuts, chanting my last name in unison, but I barely hear it as I jog back to where the rest of my teammates are watching. My shoulder throbs like a bitch, but that doesn’t stop me from smiling or enjoying the praise the lads shower on me as they clap me on the back. My eyes find Ellie again and my heart soars to new heights when I see her grinning from ear to ear.

She’s proud of me.

She loves me.

Whatever happens, at least I have that.

Marco finishes setting up the ball on the kicking tee before he steps back and positions himself like I did. Then we wait. He takes his time, letting the seconds he has to make the kick slowly wind down. His brow furrows with intense concentration. His hands shake with adrenaline or maybe nerves. He bends his knees forward confidently and I see his lips moving as he whispers something to himself over and over again.

When I look at his eyes though, they’re off. Uncertain.

Afraid .

The second he moves and kicks the ball; I know it’s wrong just by the sound of it. It shoots through the air, initially heading right where he probably wanted it to go, but then it drifts to the left, bouncing off the posts and tumbling back towards the field.

My lungs empty.

He didn’t get it.

He fucking missed it!

Holy shit!

I’m not entirely sure what happens next, but I’m certain everyone in the stadium just about combusts either from happiness or devastation. The noise is so loud it would probably register on the Richter scale if someone bothered to measure it. I nearly pass out from the buzz and shock that hurtles through me and suddenly I’m surrounded by Mace and Kai, by my entire team, celebrating with them. All of us smiling and screaming at the top of our lungs.

We won!

We fucking won!

Red fireworks go off, music blasts through the speakers around the stadium and fans rush onto the field to join in the festivities. Suddenly, my brothers are there, hugging me and then so are my mum and my dad, all of them telling me how proud they are. Amongst all the excitement and chaos though, there’s only one person I really want to see. Ellie heads straight for me, flanked on either side by her friends, and I waste no time pushing my way through the crowd to get to her. She runs the rest of the way, leaping into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist.

I don’t think

I don’t let her say anything .

I just cup the back of her neck and bring her to me, claiming her mouth with mine in a bruising kind of kiss. We pour everything into this kiss. All our feelings. Everything we’ve felt and had to hide. All the longing from our time apart. Not caring who sees us or what anyone will think. Her fingers brush through my hair and I hold her tighter to me, soaking it all in. The taste of her lips. Every brush of her tongue. Her warmth. Her smell. It’s perfect. It’s everything.

She’s everything.

My beautiful, brilliant girl.

“Hunt!”

Strong fingers latch onto my sore shoulder and I hiss, my kiss with Ellie breaking. I wince, gritting my teeth, and even though it hurts like a motherfucker I manage to set Ellie back down on her feet without dropping her. Clenching my jaw, I spin around so that I’m in front of her, coming face-to-face with Marco yet again. He snarls, baring his teeth.

“This isn’t over!” He seethes, “Mark my fucking words, Hunt I’m going to make you…”

I roll my eyes, tuning out whatever the fuck he starts shouting next.

Jesus Christ, doesn’t this guy ever shut the fuck up?

Suddenly, a flash of blonde whirls into view and I catch sight of Liv before she throws her leg out and slams her foot right into Marco’s balls. One second, he’s yelling like a mad lunatic, the next he crying out in agony and crumpling to the ground like a wet piece of paper, holding his crotch with both hands and dissolving into a mess of snot and tears.

“That’s how you fucking kick, you wanker!” She spits down at him .

I choke, barely containing the laughter bubbling up my throat.

Holy shit, I didn’t see that coming!

Nearby Bryce is staring at Liv with wide eyes and a hard-to-read expression on his face while Graeme watches Marco writhe on the floor like his very existence is an embarrassment to the male gender. Beside me, Ellie and Natalie both raise their eyebrows, but the corners of their mouths twitch a second later, stretching into wide, toothy smiles. They look at their friend and I get the sense I’m missing something.

“What?” Liv shrugs, grinning and looking back at them, “I said I was going to do it one day, didn’t I?”

This time they burst out laughing and so do I, draping my good arm over Ellie’s shoulders and pulling her back in. I kiss her smiling mouth again.

Best fucking day ever!

Things will only get better from here.