“So, is there something I should know?”
“No.”
Luca rocked back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, weighing up his words. I wish he’d just blurt out whatever the fuck it was he was thinking because his silence was giving me anxiety.
“Seth, why do you think I invited you to come and stay with Elise and me while you got settled?”
Okay. Not what I was expecting. “Because you felt sorry for me?”
Luca chuckled and shook his head. “No. We invited you into our home, so you’d have someone around to lean on if you needed it. I’ve been where you are. Living away from home for the first time. The pressure of a big contract, feeling like a noose around your neck, weighing you down. Not wanting to let anyone down. Determined to make it, no matter the cost. Determined to be the best.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. Believe me, it’s not. But it’s okay too to not have it all on day one. You’re a lot younger than some of these guys. They’ve been around the block a time or two, and they understand things you haven’t even begun to figure out just yet. Physically they’re bigger than you.” I went to protest, but Luca just lifted up his hand indicating he wasn’t done. “You might be taller, but they’re tougher. Stronger. They’ve already taken the hits and lived to tell the tale. And you, Seth, you’ll get there. You have the potential to be better than all of us. You just need to be patient.”
“That’s not something I’m good at,” I muttered, hating that every word Luca was saying made sense.
“Then that’s where you need to focus. Get in the gym. Get some muscle on those scrawny arms and then focus on learning what you can from these guys. Angus played in the Premier League. Hamish played in Europe. Connor in Asia. They can teach you things you haven’t even thought about. Don’t get me wrong, Masters, you know how to play the game. You can read the ball better than anyone I’ve ever seen at your age, and you’re fucking quick on your feet, but that doesn’t mean there still isn’t a lot for you to learn.”
“Okay.”
“Now, Elise and I are going away for a couple of days. She wants to check out some wedding venue or something, I think it’s just an excuse to take off for the weekend, but who am I to deny her, so the house is yours. Try to relax. Don’t think about football or training or drills or stats or anything else that I know keeps you up at night. Give yourself a break. Have some fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah. Fun. You know, that thing that puts a smile on your face?”
“Okay.” I didn’t know what else I could say.
“And, Seth?”
“Yeah?”
“If you need to talk, about anything…football or life, I’m around. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Thanks.”
“And I assume you know where to find me.”
Luca stood up from behind his desk, picked up his man bag, and shoved a fistful of papers in it before moving towards me. “Thanks, Luca. I think I just need…”
“To get laid?”
“I was going to say, get out of my head for a while.”
“Same thing.”
Luca opened the door and the ruckus of the locker room filtered in. Sitting there with my mouth hanging open, I pondered Luca’s words. Maybe he was right. What he’d said made a lot of sense. Logically, I knew that. I just wasn’t completely sure how to put it into practice. But with three days off training in a row, I was definitely going to try.
Having the place to myself wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. After doing all the adult jobs I hated – laundry, changing my sheets, and cleaning out my stinky gym bag, something that was very much overdue, I ordered pizza and flopped down on my bed. I’d spent ten minutes sitting on the couch downstairs, but I felt like an intruder. It was different sitting down watching a game or a movie with Luca and Elise, but being in their house without them was anything but comfortable.
Lying on my bed, I grabbed my phone and shot off a text to a couple of the guys to see if they were up for a game tomorrow, before switching off the light and lying there like a loser in the dark. I don’t know how long I tossed and turned, but by the time I woke up at the arse-crack of dawn my bed was destroyed, and my foot was tangled in the sheets.
Kicking them off, I tugged back the curtains and looked out the window. It was another perfect Sydney morning. The sun wasn’t quite up and it was already warm out. Forgoing a shower, I grabbed my boardies, snagged a towel from the clean pile of washing overflowing the basket in the corner, and headed straight for the beach. Maybe I’d be able to burn off some of this energy before breakfast.
Diving under the waves, my board bobbed behind me, the water making sure I was definitely awake. The morning might have been picture-perfect but apparently the water temp hadn’t got the memo, and I was freezing my balls off.
Twenty minutes into my attempts at surfing again, I conceded it wasn’t as easy without someone out here to tell you what to do and when to do it. As much as Warner had come across as a tosser, he’d actually been helpful, not that I’d ever tell him that.
