Page 123 of Play On

Amelia: Me too!

Aimee: I CANNOT WAIT FOR NOAH TO SEE YOU!!! But first, coffee.

I smile and type a reply:

I could use some of that myself. #JetLagIsReal

Aimee: #JetLagIsRealButSAUCYSHORTSDOWNUNDERisWorthIt

Nicholas: This is my sign to leave the chat if you are diving into Saucy Shorts talk.

I smile at that and reply:

You better leave now because I will be including shots of said Saucy Shorts, Nicholas.

I wait to see the “Nicholas has left the chat” message to come through next.

Amelia: Ha ha, you’ve scared him off now. He’s going off to make breakfast. Which is good because Iwant a bacon butty. I’m STARVING and need a big cup of hazelnut coffee.

Aimee: I’m having Vegemite on toast this morning. #AussieBreaky

Bella: I’m having a bowl of Weetabix and berries.

Aimee: Have you ever had chocolate chip Weetabix? That’s my favourite.

I glance back up at the pitch, and then it happens.

The Stonebridge United team is announced.

I quickly close out of the chat and hold my breath. I get up from my seat, as Camden told me to do, and find I’m trembling with both nerves and excitement. I stand there, listening to the Stonebridge United fans cheer, and then it happens.

I see him.

Noah trots onto the turf, and I see the number seven and “DARBY” across the back of his navy shirt. I’m buzzing—I’m so eager and anxious for him to see me, I can barely stand it.

He hasn’t turned around yet, but I see Camden look my way and then smile. I hold my breath as he moves over to Noah before he is about to start his warm-up, talks to him, and points over in my direction.

I swear the world stops as Noah’s head turns in my direction. He searches, and when he sees me, he freezes. His whole body just goes still, and even from here, I can see the look of complete shock on his face.

I wave excitedly at him. “NOAH!” I shout.

Camden says something to him, which seems to move him into action. He jogs towards me, staring at me as if I were a mirage.

Because I’m sure, in some ways, he has to believe I am.

Noah comes up to where I’m standing. When he reaches me, his brown eyes are wide, searching mine, his face etched in nothing but pure confusion and disbelief.

“Violet,” he says, his voice shaking. “What? … Why? … How? …” He trails off, as if words are failing him.

“I’m here,” I say, smiling at him. “I came to see you play.”

I hear other fans clamouring for him, but he stays focused solely on me.

“You’re here,” he says, his voice thick as he touches the side of my face with his hand. “You’re really here.”

I nod as I wrap one of my hands over his, squeezing it. “I am, Noah. It’s high time someone came to watch you play.”

His eyes begin to grow rimmed with red. I fight back my own tears as I see how much this moment has moved him.

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