“I didn’t want to miss this.”
“But you don’t even like rugby!”
“I think I might be starting to like it,” Martin says, a cheeky smile on his face.
“Forget about them,” Casey says to me, bringing me back into the present. “Just think about winning.”
“I’m thinking about getting home later.”
There’s a sudden cough from behind me. Coach Madigan nods surreptitiously towards my crotch, reminding me what I have to lose.
“I like your T-shirt,” I say to Casey, going back to more important topics of conversation.
I love the coach, it reads, with a huge heart in the middle.
“I think I’ll like it even more on my bedroom floor.”
“Can we please get back to the match?” the senior coach calls me.
Well, what did you expect? The fact that I’ve decided to stop living a lie, to follow a career as a kids’ rugby coach, doesn’t mean that I’ve given up my day job: being a dick. Some things never change, even though life forces you to make a decision. Just like the way you feel about people never changes, either.
I can never stop loving my brothers, despite all their fuck-ups. I can never stop worrying about my family.
I can never stop loving her, dreaming of our future together.
Maybe I won’t be able to give her everything she deserves. Maybe it’ll always just be the two of us; maybe that’ll be enough, and maybe it won’t, but I can’t spend the rest of my life asking myself that question. All I can do is live my life, build a new world that’s all our own, where she can feel loved, and I can try to make her happy, giving her everything I have.
And I can’t wait another day. I can’t even wait another minute.
I want a family with her.
And I want it for the rest of my life.
* * *
CASEY
“They’re going to lose.”
“Dad, stop being so negative.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“This is only their first match. Have a little faith in him.”
“I’ve already got a little too much faith in him.”
“I think they’re going to lose, too,” Martin interjects.
“Did you guys just come here to jinx it?”
“There’s no jinxing involved,” Jamie says, dropping himself down onto the step behind us. “They’re just being realistic. The boys aren’t a proper team yet, their formation is all wrong. Nick has no fucking clue what he’s doing, and the senior coach looks like he’s on the brink of a nervous breakdown.”
“But it’s just a kids’ match,” Martin comments.
Jamie turns to him. “Dr Dickhead, I imagine.”
“The famous rugby champ.”
