I laugh along with Alice, but the truth is, I haven’t seen or heard anyone in his room since that first night. Not that I’m paying super close attention, but it does seem a little strange. Unless he’s taking care of business outside of Carpenter House which, let’s face it, is the more likely situation.
‘How come you’ve sworn off dating?’
‘Shitty break-up. Boring story.’
It doesn’t take a psych major to deduce that she doesn’t want to talk about it. Now I think about it, she’s never talked about her own dating life, guys, girls or anyone else.
Back on the field, I see Michael scan the crowd and find us with double finger guns before slowly jogging down to take his place in the goal. His uniform is different from the rest of the team’s, head-to-toe navy blue, with coordinating maroon stripes on the long sleeves.
‘How come Michael’s uniform is different?’
‘Just is,’ Alice replies. ‘Probably needs long sleeves because he hardly bloody does anything for ninety minutes.’
‘He doesn’t need to as long as the defence is up to snuff,’ Jenna murmurs, a look of concern on her face. ‘We’ve got two newbies in the back four and I don’t know how comfortable Clark will be on the wing. He’s used to playing centre forward in a four-two-three-one. I hope Clive knows what he’s doing with the four-three-three bollocks.’
I lean in towards Alice, a blank look on my face. ‘Do you understand a word she just said?’
‘Best to just smile and nod when she gets on one,’ she advises. ‘Jenna loves her football. If they had any sense, they’d let her take over as manager.’
‘Haven’t got the sense they were born with,’ Jenna says with a tut. ‘It’s a common problem in football.’
‘It’s a common problem with men,’ Alice replies. ‘Now who’s ready for ninety minutes of twenty-two idiots chasing a ball around a pitch like a bunch of drunk toddlers?’
‘You’re really selling it,’ I tell her as the referee blows a whistle and another cheer goes up from the crowd.
Twenty-two players in front of me but my eye is drawn straight to Ethan. He isn’t the tallest or the most muscular but there is something undeniably appealing about him, and it’s obvious everyone in the stands is staring at him too. He shakes the hand of the opposing captain and when he takes the first kick of the game, a steely look of determination on his face, I realize I’m holding my breath.
The action is fast, Ethan passing to one of his teammates so quickly, the white-and-black ball is a blur. I don’t know much about the game, but their opposition seem like statues in comparison, slow and leaden, flashes of Hemden red darting all over the field as they move towards the goal. When the ball comes back to Ethan, I grab Jenna’s arm and gasp, and when one of the Mossington players slides to the ground, kicking his legs out from under him, I hear myself yelling at the top of my voice.
‘He can’t do that, right?’ I shout over the roar of the crowd. ‘That’s got to be against the rules. Is Ethan okay?’
‘Calm down, it’s all right.’ She points to the scene as my new nemesis reaches down to help Ethan up to his feet, his left thigh marked with dirt and grass. ‘Look, your boy is fine. And we got a free kick.’
‘He’s not my boy,’ I say again, releasing my grip on her arm. ‘I just got carried away with the game.’
Jenna grins.
‘Whatever you say. Maybe we’ll make a football fan out of you yet.’
‘Maybe,’ I concede reluctantly. ‘Maybe.’
19
Ethan
Half-time comes around so fast, it’s a shock when the referee’s whistle blasts in my ear. We’re playing okay but okay isn’t good enough. Hemden is three-nil down and I’m pissed. Mossington’s first goal was lucky, a curving dip kick Michael couldn’t do anything about, but the second and third were down to sloppy defending. It isn’t their goals that are the problem, it’s our lack of them that’s frustrating. Their offense is weak as piss, they’ve been lucky is all, but their defence is all over me. If the two centre backs get any further up my ass, I’m going to have to take them both to dinner so I can ask if it was good for them too.
‘Everything all right?’
Clive is waiting for me in the tunnel as I storm off the field. As ever, he is completely unreadable.
‘No, but it will be,’ I reply. ‘We’re gonna pull it back.’
He lifts his chin once then walks right past me, headed for his office instead of the locker room.
‘You’re not staying to talk to the team?’ I ask, confused.
‘If you’re so sure you’re going to win, there’s no need for a chat from me, is there, son?’ he replies as he strolls away, hands in his pockets. ‘Fancy footwork on the field is one thing, this is another. Time to prove you’re proper captain material.’
