“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Tito said. “You’ve been so excited about having your own place. Have you missed the part where we’re earning ridiculous amounts of cash for the next ten years?”
Everything came so easily for Tito. He and Jonas had taken pay cuts to move to Brockton. Tito still lived as though he wereat the top. Designer clothes, cars, holidays. It was all disposable to him.
“Then I’ll buy another house once I’m done,” Noah fired back. “I knew it was too soon.”
He got up. He wanted to get out of the locker room. Some of the other lads were watching them intently. Noah didn’t care to hear their opinions on his life choices on top of Tito’s.
Instead he walked through to the treatment room. It was empty. Since Colin had gotten together with the club physio, Meg, they were often found sneaking off for a bit of alone time. Everyone was used to entering the area gingerly. Whether at home or away.
He connected the call. To his amazement Carmine answered almost immediately.
“Noah?”
“Carmine. I haven’t got long, so listen. I’m going to sort everything out. I’m sorry we argued.”
This was met by silence.
“Carmine?”
“Noah. I can’t talk right now. My father is in the intensive care ward. He’s had a massive heart attack.”
The words Noah had deemed to be so important mere seconds ago vanished into nothingness.
“I’m so sorry. Is there?—”
“I have to go. I’ll call you.”
“Bye.”
He hated that he’d ended the conversation like that. What he really wanted to say was that he loved Carmine and would be here for him. But would he? Did Carmine even want that?
His reflections were disturbed by Edi peering round the door.
“The boss is here.”
The next twenty minutes passed in a blur. After Javier’s pep talk they went out into the tunnel. Players stared straight ahead as they stood shoulder to shoulder with their rivals. This was the time to block out all other noises. Nothing mattered except that ball.
Noah squeezed his eyes shut. He would have to put his feelings for Carmine into a box for later examination.
The crowd roared as they walked out. Chasing away any stray thoughts. This was where Noah came alive truly.
Today would be no exception.
By midway through the second half, Brockton had three goals to Everton’s one. The Brockton away fans were going crazy. This was unheard of.
The tension on the pitch was palpable. Noah braced himself as the ball hit the ground in front of him. Before he could take control, he was shoulder charged by Dylan Smith, a solid midfielder. The ref blew his whistle.
“Fuck’s sake,” Noah muttered.
“Sorry, did I knock you off your stilettos?”
Noah whirled round. The thug leered at him. There was no winning in a situation like this. If he stood up for himself, he’d be described as emotional. If he didn’t, the twat would get away with it.
He had a third option. To punish these fuckers the best way possible. He chose the third.
With minutes on the clock, Noah nodded that he would take the free kick. Usually Adam was the star of the show where they were concerned. He must’ve seen the determination in Noah’s eyes and stood back.
“All yours, mate.”
