by Scott Monk
Clapping sarcastically, Matt walked over to his mate, wondering if he was awake. Sure enough, Chris was perving on a bunch of beautiful bronze girls sunbaking in yellow and red bikinis.
‘Can we take them home with us? Just one, please?’
Matt grinned. ‘C’mon, we’ve got a game to win.’
Scooping up the ball, Matt zigzagged past his teammates then off-loaded to Grover, who dummied to Rhino. He ran forward and passed to Chris, who dabbed the ball into the sand for a try. The guys clapped each other on the back then returned to their positions.
The return kick flew over Matt’s head and landed at the feet of a pair of long legs. He instantly recognised them, having studied them in detail many times.
‘You lose this?’ Kelly asked, holding up the ball. She was wearing white shorts, an orange T-shirt and sunglasses. But most importantly, she had chopped off her long hair and now sported an attractive bob.
‘G’day, what are you doing here?’
‘Trying to find you.’
He grinned. ‘Oh, yeah? Why?’
‘I thought I’d join you for a swim or a game of touch,’ she said, smiling.
‘What did you do to your hair?’
‘I needed a change in life.’
‘What does Aaron think about it?’
‘I don’t care about what he thinks any more.’
Matt almost crowed. What was this?
‘Er, I think your friends want the ball back,’ Kelly interrupted his thoughts.
‘C’mon, Matty!’ Hazem shouted. ‘We’ve got a game on here. Stop hassling that girl. You’re too ugly for her anyway.’
He blushed then shouted, ‘In a minute,’ before booting the ball back to his mates.
Kelly laughed quietly.
‘Sorry about that. It’s great to see you again. You should have told us you were coming though. We would’ve waited.’
‘I didn’t know I was until I went looking for you this morning. Your mum said you’d be here.’
‘You came looking for me?’
‘Yes, why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, aren’t we?’
‘Absolutely.’
They grinned together and Matt was sure he saw a new energy in her blue eyes. How that involved him, he was eager to find out.
‘How are you holding up anyway?’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘Your mum told me about your dad.’
‘Oh, that? So-so but everything’s getting back to normal. He’s got the message that I don’t want anything to do with him.’
‘That’s pretty sad after all you went through.’
‘Yeah, but at least I now know who really cares about me.’
A pair of cops patrolling the beach caught their gazes. It gave Matt a chance to change the subject. ‘So what do you want to do?’
‘You keen for a swim?’
‘Yeah, sure. As long as there aren’t any sharks.’
‘The only sharks here are on land,’ Kelly joked, eyeing a group of guys circling round some good-looking girls. One of those guys was Chris.
Kicking off her sandals, she dropped her towel and bag onto the sand. She started taking off her T-shirt but winced as she rolled her shoulder. Fresh injuries, Matt realised. Stubbornly, she fought the pain and removed her shirt and shorts to reveal a violet and white-rimmed bikini. Matt’s hormones went haywire as his eyes oiled over her shapely tanned body. Oh baby!
‘You want to leave your neck chain here?’ she asked, indicating his silver crucifix.
‘Yeah, okay,’ he said, starting to unclasp it.
But it was a ruse to catch him unaware. ‘Race you to the water!’
Without warning, she bolted towards the surf. Matt fumbled at his chain, dropped it then chased after her. He jumped over towels, sunbakers and kids eating ice-creams. Laughing, Kelly glanced over her shoulder at him and taunted him to run faster. It didn’t phase him. The view from behind was just as good.
Kelly hit the water first and ran into a breaking wave, but Matt caught her by the waist before she dived into the surf. Her soft warm belly was satiny in his hands but he didn’t have long to enjoy the moment. He dragged her back and then plunged into the sea, stealing the lead from her.
Stroke after stroke, the cool water bubbled around him as he powered through the waves. He ducked under some and was pummelled by others but he maintained a straight course, knowing Kelly wouldn’t be far behind him. One hundred metres out, he slowed to a stop. A stitch needled his side and he wanted a break. Whipping back his hair, he searched for her but couldn’t see her. He’d won!
But where was she? There were no other swimmers or surfers near him. And no one was splashing towards him.
‘Kelly?’ he called out.
He heard only the distant sounds of people enjoying themselves on the shore. He twisted about. Maybe she was behind him. No. There was only the hazy blue horizon and clear seas.
‘Kelly?’
Panic set in. She was an experienced swimmer and should have caught up with him by then. He hoped she hadn’t got into any trouble. It would be his fault if she did. He shouldn’t have tackled her at the shore like that. The grab might have injured her and …
No, she hasn’t drowned. Don’t think like that. It’s as bad as worrying about sharks. C’mon, man. Don’t freak out. Remember what Kelly said: there aren’t any sharks.
Whoosh! A loud thrashing sound startled him from behind. He turned to see bubbles rising to the surface as the object submerged. His muscles clenching tight, he realised he wasn’t alone. And whatever was out there with him was big.
A shark!
He kicked frantically as he felt a pair of jaws snap over his right leg. Ahhhhhh! He’d been bitten! His body turned numb with fright and he started to panic. Any minute now and a gigantic gush of blood would pool around him.
Suddenly, Kelly’s head bobbed out of the water beside him and he screamed. The monster had chomped it clean off! But then it started laughing and he blanched. She was alive!
‘Get out of here, Kelly! A shark just attacked me!’
‘Did it? Wait a minute, I’ll go check.’
‘No! Don’t!’
She plunged under the surface with Matt shouting her name. Frantically, he looked everywhere for her, afraid the two of them were doomed. He was growing tired and didn’t know how much longer he could hold up, what with one leg missing.
What a minute. He could still feel his toes.
A great rush of water reared up behind him. Something large loomed from it and bore down on him. Heart pounding, all he could do was watch as two giant arms grabbed him by the shoulders, ready to snap him in half.
Hold on. Since when did sharks have arms?
‘Kelly!’
She laughed hysterically as she let go of his shoulders and swam around him, a wickedly playful look on her face. ‘Who else were you expecting?’
‘But something bit me.’
Kelly grinned and chomped her teeth together three times.
‘That was you?’
She laughed. ‘You should have seen your face! You really thought you were fish bait, didn’t you? You even screamed.’
He flushed with goofish embarrassment. She’d got him good.
‘But you bit me!’
‘That’s revenge for tackling me on the shore, you cheat.’
‘Why you …!’
He splashed water at her then swam and caught her before she could get away. Slippery in his arms, she playfully fought back, until she managed to eel away from him. Starting to feel drained, he gave up and told her he needed a breather. She gave him a mocking, poor baby look then swam back towards him. They slowed to a stop and gently bobbed in one spot. Alone, they were only an arm’s length from each other. Their mouths were below the water but not their noses and eyes. They looked at each other, enticing each other to make the next move. Her eyes were teasing. His were eager. He’d heard about The Right Moment and he was sure this was theirs.
Nervous, he swallowed and moved towards her. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. Kelly didn’t move; her eyes urged him on.
But The Right Moment passed and Kelly shot away from him.
‘Last one to shore pays for the bus trip home!’ she said.
With long flowing arms, she stole a head start and raced him back to shore. Dumbstruck, Matt waited as he chided himself. He’d taken too long.
Beginning his return swim, he consoled himself that they were both shy, but in love. All their mucking around had shown him that. It would only be a matter of time before they got together.
Kelly was already on her towel when he crawled out of the surf. He stood up, coughed to clear his throat then staggered over to her, his whole body aching. Panting, he flopped next to her and lay coated in a glassy skin of sand as he tried to catch his breath.
‘Do you think we should alert the lifesavers to that shark of yours?’ Kelly joked, shaking water from her ear.
‘Only if love bites are dangerous,’ he answered.
She blushed big-time before Matt started coughing up more seawater. He leaned forward, spluttered out the last few drops then said he was okay. Seeing he was fine, Kelly sat cross-legged next to him and helped put his neck chain back on. He said thanks before she asked him if she could tell him something private.
‘Yeah sure, what?’
‘I’m leaving Aaron.’
He almost choked some more. ‘As in dumping him?’
She nodded. ‘This time it’s for real.’
‘What brought this on?’
‘You.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. All that stuff you’ve told me—y’know, about this being my life and nobody else’s. Well, it’s made me think. I want my life back. I want my power back. The only way I’m going to get them is by leaving him.’
‘Excellent. When are you going to tell him?’
‘Tuesday. During the grand final.’
Ghosts of steam rose from the shaved scalps of the Mongrels as they listened to the national anthem blare across the muddy football field. Heavy rain splattered against their faces as they lamely mumbled the words along with the eight hundred students, teachers and parents assembled in the shelter of the Princes Boys College stand. Waving gold and purple flags, or blue and white streamers, the fans were hungry for a great game of league. And what better way of seeing one than at a grand final.
The music finished and a roar went up as the players ran onto the field. Deep into his team’s own territory, Matt clapped and shouted at his players, trying to rev them up. They hopped on the spot, rolled their arms, pulled up their long socks or gnashed their mouthguards between their teeth. Everyone was nervous but, more importantly, eager to win.
Matt glanced at the crowd, trying to pinpoint Kelly. She hadn’t told Blackwell the bad news yet, he was sure of it. The Princes captain looked too calm and focused standing on the other half of the field. Matt hoped she wasn’t having second thoughts about ditching him. But he didn’t have any more time to worry about her. The grand final was about to start.
The Lions kicker perched the ball on a mound of sand then stepped back and waited. The ref surveyed the field, raised a whistle to his mouth then blew.
Boot! The game was on!
Chris caught the ball then off-loaded it to Rhino. He charged forward before three burly Lions smacked into him and took him down. The big Maori quickly got to his feet and rolled the ball backwards for Matt, who shot it to Hazem. Crunch! The Rocket came off second best to a shuddering blow, much to the delight of the crowd.
The Mongrels burnt off five tackles before being forced to kick on the sixth. Chris put in a long missile that the opposing fullback easily caught, tucked under his arm then darted forward with.
The retaliation was equally brutal. Hazem burst from the left side and tackled the fullback. He held him down long enough for both sides to regroup. Blackwell threw the ball to a meaty prop, who charged forward, trying to bust through the middle. But Rhino was keen for revenge and knocked the Lions player to the ground. On the next play, Blackwell dummied to his five-eighth while off-loading behind to his hooker. The hooker circled around the back and dodged one defender, then two. Grover lunged wide and ankle-tapped him but he managed to escape. He broke through the Mongrels defence and ran straight for the tryline in the distance.
The screaming crowd rose to its feet as it watched the hooker bolt twenty metres. Chris was homing in on him and the race was on. The hooker curved towards the right-hand side of the field, trying to weave past the Sundance Kid blocking his way. Chris was within reach when the hooker did something tricky. He braked suddenly and sidestepped the Sundance Kid. Chris overshot him and left the tryline exposed. The hooker restarted his run but lost his footing on the wet grass. The crowd booed and cheered as three Mongrels jumped on top of him.
The three tacklers still hadn’t got off him when the ref arrived. The whistle blew and the first penalty was awarded to the Lions. ‘Holding!’ Matt barely stopped himself from cursing. They were only fifteen metres from the Mongrels tryline. The penalty gave the Princes Boys College a shot at goal. Their team could put the first points on the board and steal the psychological advantage.
Matt barked at his players clustered together around the goalposts, rain washing mud and grass from their faces. ‘No more stupid stuff, fellas. We don’t have a second chance at this. Keep up the pressure and let them make the mistakes, okay?’
The crowd cheered as the Lions kicked a 2–nil lead.
Invigorated, the Lions were even more determined to score on their next set of six. They powered down the field again, forcing the Mongrels back into their own twenty. If it wasn’t for some tough defence, the Lions would have scored again.
A wayward bomb saw Matt get the ball. He rabbited past two defenders and made a small break that got the crowd to its feet. However, Blackwell and a second Lions player caught him, lifted him up and speared him into the ground. He crashed into a puddle, mud flooding into his nose and mouth.
Slightly groggy, Matt looked to the ref for a penalty but the whistle stayed silent, much to the disgust of the Mongrels supporters.
‘Stop faking it, feral,’ Blackwell said. ‘Get up and play.’
Spitting out gunk, Matt did just that. As the ball went wide to Hazem, Blackwell smashed into Matt with his shoulder as he ran by.
The Mongrels made a good thirty metres when the ball came Matt’s way again. He gave a flick pass to Grover, who ran forward, drew two markers, then passed it back to Matt, who had circled past him in the meantime. The move caught the Lions off-guard and gave the Mongrels a chance at the line.
Matt zigzagged left, skipped over a tackler and ripped off a hand clutching his jersey. Legs buzzing, he crossed over the Lions forty, thirty then twenty metre mark. Blackwell zeroed in on him though, and caught him by the hips. The momentum of the tackle and the slippery grass saw them slide over the sideline. The touch judge waved his flag as the Mongrels’ chance to score disappeared.
The big hits, heart-stopping tackles, small breaks and nervous bombarding of the in-goal areas continued relentlessly as both teams desperately tried to get points on the board. Teeth rattled in heads banging against the muddy ground and errant knees and elbows smacked into chests. The game was as brutal as any Matt or his teammates had played in but they resisted the pain. All they could do was fight back and hope to win.
The breakthrough came in the thirty-fourth minute. A breach of the ten-metre rule allowed the Mongrels to kick for touch twenty-two metres out. Matt pounced on the ball and took a quick tap before the Lions could reform. He swung it out to Hazem, who shot it to Grover. He cut through weak defence before passing it to Rhino who charged under the posts for a try.
Chris easily converted the goal, giving their team a 6–2 lead.
Thirty seconds before half-time, he booted a field goal and gave them a 7–2 lead.
Clapped from the field, the Mongrels were j
ubilant as they marched back to their change room, covered in mud. They were completely coated in brown, apart from their eyes. It was amazing that any of them could tell which team they were passing the ball to.
The Lions were clearly downcast. There had been several times when they had come close to scoring but hadn’t finished the job. Knuckles was screaming at them as they trudged towards the grandstand and their own change room.
‘I should bench you for the rest of the game, you know!’ Knuckles shouted at his son. ‘That’s the worst football I’ve seen you play all year! You’re a joke out there! If you don’t start scoring tries, I’ll send some ball boys out there to do it for you!’
Knuckles was still yelling when they disappeared underground.
Matt moved his teammates along to talk to them himself. They were doing great but the grand final hadn’t been won yet. Don’t get comfortable. Strengthen the defence around the wings. Complete the sets. Forget about fancy stuff. And keep grinding their opponents down. If they did that, the premiership would be theirs.
With ten minutes to go, Matt walked back outside to confirm a rumour that the talent scouts were there. He looked for them in the grandstand, but couldn’t see them. Maybe they were grabbing some hot food or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
‘Matt.’
He looked up and saw Kelly. She was holding an umbrella and leaning over a railing.
‘G’day. You haven’t seen those talent scouts around have you?’
‘I think I saw them go out the back.’
‘Any reason why?’
‘Checking on Aaron, I think.’
‘Speaking of whom, have you told him yet?’
She shook her head. ‘After the game.’
‘You haven’t changed your mind?’
‘No. But don’t worry. Nothing he says will make me go back.’
He nodded, more for her sake than his.
‘See what colours I’m wearing?’ she asked, pointing to her beanie.
‘Blue and white.’ He grinned. ‘Doesn’t that make you a traitor?’
‘Only if you lose and everyone pays me out.’