Chapter 20
The next day was Saturday and, considering it was mid September, that meant only one thing, time to put aside the angst and the drama and unite for one glorious goal – Aussie Rules football!
At least I hoped that was how things would play out. Matt and Jack were subdued at breakfast and I knew it was because they were worried about how the team was going to play with Sam and Michael clearly with other things on their minds. They left soon after breakfast to meet up with the other boys and do some pre-match training, and I finished some uni work.
It was peaceful in the flat, the weather had improved and the sun was shining in that superficial way it does in early spring which, although it doesn't provide much heat, does make things seem cheerier. Still, as peaceful as the environment seemed, a little bubble of unease bumped around in my stomach that would not ease up even when I finished the assignment. Throwing my books aside, I looked around for something else to do and my eyes fell on the sponge. Perfect! Determined to stay busy I gave the flat a thorough clean, preferring scrubbing at the stains on the kitchen counters then thinking about the fact that it was the 18th of September.
Yep, the next day was going to be the 19th and I still had no idea how the three of us within the flat were going to approach it. Would Matt and Jack simply disappear all day and night like they had done back in Bridunna? Would I be invited along? I supposed the latter question would depend upon whether Jack was intending to follow his usual course and pick up a random girl to forget his troubles with.
The very idea made my toes curl inside my socks and my hands squeeze the sponge so tightly I doubted there could be any moisture left within it. But, I told myself firmly as I had done before, that it wasn't about me it was about Jack and if sleeping with someone other than me was going to be the way he found solace then I had no right to interfere.
Which is all very well for me to say but how did I really feel? Sick to my stomach at the idea of Jack with someone else. Which was so unbelievably selfish of me considering that my interactions with him were based on nothing but some stupid arrangement I had bullied him into. Oh why did I let things get so complicated?
When I had well and truly run out of things in the flat to take my cathartic cleaning routine out on, I had a quick shower and dressed in all my Grover supporting glory. I was a regular at their games, of course, and so my outfit was down pat, consisting of a pair of jeans, a Grover's Rovers jersey (which Simone had taken in for me so it didn't so much resemble a nightie) and a scarf which my mother had knitted out of blue and green wool to reflect the team's colours. I drew the line at waving huge pom-poms, but I was still quite obviously a keen supporter.
I had just thrown my lip balm, phone, wallet, keys, water bottle, and a plastic bag (for if the grass was wet from yesterday's rain, I'm a thinking girl!) into my shoulder bag when there was a brief knock on the door and Simone came in.
She was dressed fairly similarly to me although she had made her jersey more funky and feminine with a jagged neckline, shorter hemline, and even some sparkly rhinestones. She loved to spice up normal outfits and had offered to do the same to my jersey, but I was just happy with it looking a little less sack like. I was glad to see that, like every match day, her eyes immediately went to the long sleeves on my jersey, the cuffs of which drooped down over my hands. Every time she asked whether she could take them up a little bit but every time I refused pointing out that I liked not having a need for gloves when I was wearing it.
I waited for her to begin her usual spiel, but obviously she wasn't feeling 100 percent herself as her eyes slid away from my cuffs and she didn't raise any comment. Disappointed that she was obviously still severely hung up about something I just managed to repress a long sigh and instead pasted a brilliant smile on my lips.
"So are you ready to go?" I asked, pretty inanely considering she was the one who had come to pick me up and, therefore, she should have been the one asking me that question. Still, conversation seemed to be a little beyond her so I picked up the slack.
We headed out of the flat and down the stairs together and I was on my way out into the car park when I realised that Simone had stopped. Turning around I saw her knocking on Haley's door and my heart plummeted as I remembered that we usually took Haley with us to the games.
Haley appeared in her doorway a moment later and I couldn't help but notice that, although she had worn blue and green as a nod to the day's activities, there was not a jersey or supporter scarf to be seen. Well, I thought with some satisfaction, she wasn't going to win over any of the boys dressed like that!
Obviously noticing my scrutiny of her Haley smiled awkwardly and gave a silly little wave, saying softly, "Hi, Natalia."
She was nervous about my reaction to her. Good and so she should be, I was one tiny piece of restraint away from slapping that perfectly made up face of hers. Grunting by way of greeting and sounding just like one of the boys, I turned and exited the building, heading for Simone's car. As I drew nearer I saw that there was someone already sitting in it and, tipping my head so I could see better through the window, I realised it was Alex.
Momentarily forgetting that Alex was still going through the 'I hate everything' stage I asked him if he was looking forward to the game and got a very predictable, "Whatever." In return.
Rolling my eyes I opened up one of the back doors and threw myself into the backseat getting the feeling that, what with Simone down in the dumps, Alex in an adolescent sulk and Haley being her usual self, it was going to be a very long afternoon.
The oval at Grove University is situated right down the end of campus and, although there were no stands to sit in, the edges of the oval sloped upwards forming a natural seating area. We situated ourselves directly opposite the centre square, so that we were equal distance from the goals, and right up the front so we could clearly see the action.
As I had expected, the grass was still wet from the rain from the day before but as us girls had been going to the games for the last two years we had all brought our plastic bags and Simone had even remembered to bring a spare one for Alex. Not that he was particularly grateful for it. The way he was going he was lucky if I didn't use his plastic bag to suffocate him by half time.
We were there about half an hour before the game was due to start and so we amused ourselves by talking to the people around us and glaring at the opposition as they lapped the oval in their warm-up.
Although from the outside it would have looked as if everything was normal between the four of us, there was a strange little undercurrent zinging about. Basically there was very little conversation but plenty of significant looks. Haley kept trying to catch my eye and when, through my lapse of concentration, she did she would smile apologetically, clearly trying to garner my forgiveness. I, on the other hand, was trying to catch Simone's eye and make sure she was alright but she, as I was doing with Haley, was steadfastly avoiding my gaze and I kept catching Alex's eye instead. For some reason he seemed displeased with me as well, it was difficult to tell because he was displeased with everything, but I think he was reserving an extra special look of annoyance just for me. What a lucky girl I am!
All things considered I was pretty glad when the umpire came forward to start the game. Jack came forward to take the clearance, Micky was in the opposition's 50, Tommo was positioned in the Grover goal square, and Matt and Samsa loitered around the sides of the centre circle with the rest of the team spread around them across the oval. The opposition were almost bottom of the ladder and there were no doubts as to who was going to win. The only thing up for dispute was how much the Grovers were going to shellac them by.
As the ground was still pretty water-logged, the umpire threw the ball up to start the game and Jack and his opposition leapt forward at the same moment. Jack's arms were longer and so he was able to smash the footy to Matt in the single fluid movement they had perfected over years of playing. Jack took off running and, without looking back, Matt handballed to him k
nowing that he would be there. It was like their breakfast morning routine, all instinct, all trust in each other and it was really something to watch. As Matt shepherded the opposition to keep them from getting a tackle in, Jack flew down the centre corridor, bouncing the footy twice before kicking it precisely to Tommo who took a sensational mark about 30 metres out from the goal posts.
I cheered loudly along with the other Grovers supporters knowing that, from such a short distance directly in front, Tommo was not going to miss. And sure enough he kicked the ball straight through the middle of the two taller posts. A goal in three possessions? The other team was screwed!
The first quarter continued pretty much along this same vein until moments before the quarter siren rang when some tricky midfield work by the opposition meant the ball was kicked into their forward 50 for the first time. The ball was headed for a one-on-one and shouldn't have been a real threat but Micky, the person assigned to the other side's best forward, didn't seem to be paying attention and the footy was suddenly intercepted and, in the blink of an eye, a goal was scored for the opposition.
This wasn't a total disaster considering the Rovers were 32 points up at quarter time, but it caused more than a few raised eyebrows as it was so unlike Micky to come off his assigned man. I knew everybody was thinking the same thing: 'Where was Micky's head at?'
The siren rang and the boys jogged across the oval to huddle together to discuss tactics for the second quarter and to receive instructions from Sam. I could see that Sam paid particular attention to Micky, talking at him steadily for several minutes while the others swigged from their water bottles.
Unfortunately, whatever Sam said to his twin didn't seem to have made an impact because it was only two minutes into the second quarter before the same guy that Micky was supposed to be preventing from scoring took an easy mark and went on to kick a goal seconds later.
And on it went, the Rovers were able for the most part to keep the flow of play going towards their forward, but every time the ball went the opposite way Micky's man would inevitably take advantage of it. The Rover's crowd was beside itself and I just about screamed myself hoarse telling Micky to pay attention.
After about 20 minutes of this I saw Sam take the opportunity of down time due to an injury incurred by the other team to jog towards his brother and knew that, for I think the first time I've ever seen, he was going to order Micky off the ground because of poor play rather than for the blood rule or a rest.
Micky came forward to meet Sam right in front of where we were sitting and I knew immediately that the shit was really going to hit the fan. I looked instinctively for Matt and Jack and saw that they had positioned themselves nearby, but weren't going to act unless absolutely necessary. This was Sam's territory and when the game was on he was their captain above all other things.
As the twins came face to face and the tension rose several notches Simone suddenly grabbed my hand and, when I looked at her, I saw that she was even whiter than usual. I looked around and saw that, although many in the crowd were looking excited at a bit of drama, Alex looked uneasy and had stood up as if, like Jack and Matt, he was getting ready to leap in if needed. Haley also looked terribly uncomfortable and like she would rather have been anywhere else in the world at that moment.
"You're off," Sam said flatly, his voice carrying clearly over to us as we were not more than eight metres away.
"I'm what?" Micky said angrily, sticking his face right up close to his brother's. When Sam remained impassive he snorted in disgust and turned away, "No, rack off."
I knew that Sam wouldn't let him get away with that and, sure enough, he grabbed his twin's shoulder and yanked him back before he had had the chance to go very far. "I'm your captain," Sam said, his face a mask of coldness, "and if I say you're off then you're off."
Michael took a fistful of Sam's jersey and gave him a little shake as he replied, "I don't think you heard me, captain, I said no."
At this my brother took a short step forward. "Hey, come on now, Micky-" Matt began, obviously upset by this outright admission of mutiny, but Micky shot him a death glare and snapped,
"And you can piss off and all, this isn't anything to do with you."
"Doesn't seem like it's anything to do with the game either," Jack interjected sharply, always on the alert to jump to Matt's defence."
"Yeah," Matt agreed, with a quick glance across at Jack, "and, considering we're in the middle of one, can't whatever the two of you have going on wait for a while?"
My brother, ladies and gentlemen, staunch protector of Aussie rules football regardless of the situation.
"I'm the captain," Sam repeated, his eyes boring into Micky's and not seeming to have even noticed that Jack and Matt had spoken, "and so when I tell you to stay on your man, you stay on your man. And, when you screw up and I tell you to get off my oval, you get off my bloody oval." He wrenched Micky's hand off his jersey and shoved him backwards. "Now," he said, his voice loaded with authority, "brother or not, if you're not on the bench in 10 seconds I'm dropping you from the team, not just for today, but for good."
For a moment Micky looked stunned and I knew that if anything would break the hearts of any of the five boys it would be not playing their beloved game, Sam had brought out the big guns with that threat. Everyone was frozen for a moment and then a strange expression stole across Micky's face and I felt the hairs rise along my arms as he stepped up to Sam again.
"Oh, I get it," he said and, out of the corner of my eye I saw Alex shake his head then jog across the boundary line to join up with Tommo in keeping back the others on the oval who had run over to see what the holdup was. "This hasn't got anything to do with me coming off my mark," Micky continued, his voice low and dangerous, "this has got to do with you and your little secret. What, you think having me off the team will make it harder for me to tell everyone what's going on with you? Hell, I could tell them right now."
At this point Simone jumped up and shouted, "Micky don't!"
He glanced over at her and, in that moment of inattention, Sam lunged at him. Jack, and Matt rushed forward, but it was too late as the twins were locked together in a tussle that no mere mortal could ever hope to separate.
I stood up as well and held Simone's hand tightly, watching the twins wrestle each other onto the ground and feeling overwhelmingly useless. I caught Jack's eye and mouthed, 'What's going on?' But, as with the other day, he had no answers for me.
"Can't they do something?" Simone gasped, her eyes focused intently on the warring twins.
I was just about to ask 'Like what exactly?' when Sam seemed to get the upper hand in the fight and flattened his brother against the grass, sitting on his chest and holding his arms which Micky continued to thrash wildly.
"You're my brother," Sam panted, his face red and his jersey torn. "Before all that other bull you're supposed to be my brother!"
"What about you?" Micky howled, still struggling furiously. "What about you being a brother to me? Why did you have to screw everything up? Why does everything always end up so shit?"
For the briefest of moments I felt a flash of sympathy for Micky, he sounded just like a confused little kid and I got the feeling that whatever was going on with Sam was just another in a long line of disappointments life had afforded him. His brother, however, seemed to harbour no such sympathetic feelings.
"Oh poor you," he exclaimed sarcastically. "Do you think perhaps some things end up the way they do because of you and your damn attitude? I can't help what's happened, but you and your constant bitching haven't helped any and I'm sick of it."
Micky looked up at him in some surprise and Samsa nodded emphatically. "Yeah, that's right, I'm fed up with you lashing out at everybody around you if things don't go exactly as you want them to. I mean what has Talia ever done to you? Really, when you think about it can you pinpoint a single moment when she has honestly, maliciously worked against you?"
Geez, Sam, I thought sarcastically, thanks fo
r bringing me into this. People on the oval and on the grass around us were looking at me and I felt myself going red as Sam continued, "The only reason you hate her so much is because she gives you back as good as she gets and, frankly, I think it's about bloody time that somebody did."
I wondered for a moment whether it would be appropriate to do what they did in parliament and sing out: 'hear, hear!' at this point, but decided against it.
Stopping struggling against Sam for a moment Micky snarled, "You know you just might be right, she's certainly looking pretty good now compared to you!"
"And knowing that I'm right just kills you, doesn't it?" Sam crowed. "Come to think of it your biggest problem has really been caused by all the crap you've thrown at Talia this year. Face it, brother, I'm not the one who's screwed things up for you, you are!"
There was a moment during which I struggled to comprehend how I had caused Micky's 'biggest problem' and silence descended around me. During this moment everything seemed to stop so I went ahead and jinxed the situation by thinking that maybe the fight between the twins was over. The next second, however, Micky's face puffed up weirdly as if filled with hot air and Simone and I both yelled, "Sam!" at the same time as Micky twisted his arm free and, in one powerful swing smashed Sam's nose to the side. There was a sickening crunch, audible even from where Simone and I were standing, and a cascade of blood gushed over Micky's hand and down Sam's face.
For a moment I, and everyone else it seemed, watched in horrified fascination as the crimson liquid gushed over the twins before a small whimper from Simone made me snap out of my daze. I turned towards Simone to see if she was OK and was just in time to catch her as she swayed and lost her balance. She looked awful and I knew that the sight of so much blood on top of everything else had really got to her.
I hugged her tightly against my chest, letting her hide her face away from it all, acting as the strong one but wishing with all my might that I was able to run down to Jack and let him comfort me as I was comforting Simone.
Alex, who had cast one quick look up to his sister as the blood had first burst forth, rushed forward and helped Sam to one side, holding the older boy's head down so that the blood would drip free rather than go down the back of his throat. Considering Alex's attitude earlier on, he showed, I thought, remarkable maturity in his handling of Sam. Watching him with interest I let myself wonder for a moment exactly what his story was, what had happened that night on the fire escape? My moment of contemplation was short-lived, however, as the next second Alex had glanced up, seen me staring at him and shouted, "What the hell are you looking at me for? Get her out of here," gesturing towards Simone.
He was right, of course, it seemed as if Simone was having a nervous breakdown and she really couldn't stay at the oval so I took hold of her shoulders and hauled my petite friend off me and forced her into a standing position. With Haley on one side and me on the other we managed to hustle Simone up the hill, past all the staring people, and out into the car park. The air seemed to get fresher and lighter the further away we were from the oval and I wondered whether I'd been unconsciously taking shorter breaths during all the commotion.
Digging Simone's car keys out of her bag, I unlocked the passenger side of the car and Haley and I manoeuvred her in. As Simone slumped against the back of the car seat, Haley and I took a step back and then we all looked at each other for a moment in shell shocked silence. Simone's eyes were wet with tears, Haley was biting furiously at her fingernails, and I knew my face was still red as a beetroot.
Saturday football had never been so dramatic! Honestly, and they say girls are the ones who like all the drama.
"I suppose we should go," I said hesitantly once it seemed that neither of the others were going to say anything.
Simone nodded but then, as I went to get into the driver's side she called out and stopped me. "No, you have to go back," she said shakily.
"Huh?" I looked at her in bemusement and she gave a small smile.
"Come on, Talia, I've known you for forever I know that you're dying to go back and see what's going on. And you have to anyway because if you don't we'll never know what happened because the boys will close ranks like they always do."
"I'd like to know if Sam's OK," Haley said timidly and, for once, her shy attitude didn't annoy me.
"Fine then." I didn't need much persuading, Simone was right, I was desperate to know what was happening. I chucked the keys to Haley and instructed her to drive Simone home.
We said our goodbyes and then, as Haley backed Simone's car out of the parking spot, I took a deep breath and walked back towards the oval. I ignored the stares of the other people in the stands and marched straight down to the boundary line and took stock of the situation.
Micky was nowhere to be seen, Sam was sitting on the ground a little way to the left of where I was standing holding Jack's jersey against his nose and the now bare-chested Jack was crouched beside him talking earnestly. Matt and Tommo were surrounded by the umpires and doing a lot of shaking their heads which did not bode well for the results of the match. Realising someone other than Micky was missing I looked around for Alex and saw him wandering across the oval towards me with a cigarette in his mouth. I gestured to him impatiently but the little shit continued his unhurried saunter and it took him almost half a minute for him to reach me.
"Sorry if I've interrupted your little bad boy moment," I said sarcastically, "but where's Micky?"
Alex exhaled a long stream of grey smoke and then shrugged in a way that made me want to give him a smack around the head. Thankfully at that moment Tommo and Matt broke away from the umpires and, noticing me for the first time, Tommo jogged over while Matt headed towards Jack and Sam.
"Where's Micky?" I repeated when Tommo arrived next to Alex.
Infuriatingly Tommo also shrugged and I began to suspect that the boys were closing ranks just like Simone had said they would. However, Tommo clarified his answer slightly by adding, "He took off when you guys did. Simone OK?"
"Yeah," I answered him, but my attention was not fixed on him but rather on Jack and my brother. As Matt had reached Jack and Sam he had shot Jack a cold look and began talking to Sam as if his best friend wasn't even there.
A little trickle of ice slid down the back of my neck and I choked out, "What's up with Matt?" Hoping I didn't look as freaked as I felt.
"Oh," Tommo's mouth twitched with a smile and I felt myself beginning to thaw as surely it couldn't be that serious if he was smirking, "can you see that massive hickey Jack's got on his shoulder? We all saw it when he took his jersey off to give to Sam but he won't tell us who he got it from and Matt's pissed." His smile widened, his teeth very white against his dark skin. "My money's on Kristin, just for the record." He chuckled, although he made sure he was looking neutral when Jack joined us a second later.
"We're going to have to take Sam to the emergency room," he sighed raising his eyebrows slightly at Alex's smoking but not saying anything. "He reckons his nose is broken. So what did the umps say?" He asked, turning to Tom as if he hadn't just informed us that one of his best mates had a broken nose in the same breath.
"We've had to declare a forfeit." Tom shook his head in disgust and Jack echoed his sentiment.
"Damn, we could have taken them too. Sam will be furious."
I glanced across at Matt and Sam who were beginning to walk over. One look at Sam's face told me that 'furious' was a bit of an understatement.
"I'b gon kilb hib," Sam snuffled when he reached the group of us.
"Which I think," said Matt as we all looked at him in confusion, "is bloody nose language for 'I'm going to kill him.'"
In any other situation I would have found this funny but my lips didn't even twitch.
As we walked out to the car park I looked around at the boys; Tommo was grim faced, Sam was hidden behind Jack's now very bloody jersey, Alex was moody, and there was a certain layer of frost in the way that Matt and Jack were acting towards each other
. Basically everybody looked miserable and, unbidden, Micky's words echoed in my head: 'Why does everything always end up so shit?'