Page 92 of Unwritten Rules
Throughout the first half, I was on the edge of my seat. His earlier confrontation with Zoe and getting slapped across the face melts into the background as I track his every movement. My lungs ached from me holding my breath each time he got the ball for a tackle or kicked a try conversion. While I was ecstatic to see him back in his safe space, I couldn’t help but worry about his quad with each bump he took or whenever he kicked the ball.I’ve never felt stress and excitement wrapped in a tight ball quite like this.
Now, with five minutes left on the clock, the Wolves are ten metres out from their try line. The Giants are desperately fighting to keep them away, and with two tackles left before the ball is turned over, the Wolves might not get over the line. I shift forward on the plastic chair, fingers splayed over my mouth as I watch on with anticipation thrumming beneath my veins.
The score is 36-6 with the Wolves way in the lead. It’s been a thrashing of a game, and despite the deflated Giants fans, the Wolves fans are still loud and crazy, cheering for their team every step of the way. I feel bad for the Giants, but it’s still early in the season, and I guess tonight just isn’t their night.
The fans behind me cheer for the Wolves, and when Sinnett receives the ball on the last tackle, they erupt into a flurry of excitement. They scream his name as he races toward the try line. I watch with my heart in my throat as he slips past two defenders and slides over the try line. My eardrums ring as the entire stadium cheers and the Wolves rush to celebrate with Sinnett.
I jump out of my chair and clap, my hands aching and lungs on fire as I join the fans in their cheering. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I keep my focus on Sinnett. His smile is wide, teeth on display as he accepts hugs and pats on the shoulders from Khai and the rest of the team. Scoring a try like that is exactly what he needed after returning from an injury. He has put in the hard work for the past seventy-five minutes, so if anyone deserves this win, it’s him.
Sinnett sets up for a try conversion on the sideline, just metres away from where I’m standing. One knee is bent while the other rests on the grass, his hands making quick work of adjusting the ball on the plastic stand. Turning his head to theright, his ocean eyes find mine. My breath hitches in my throat when he shoots me a wink and goes back to what he’s doing.
My lips part in a silent O as I watch Sinnett stand and prepare to kick the ball, unfazed by how a simple gesture has my heart racing to the point I might have a heart attack. I wrap my arms around my waist, relishing in the woodsy cologne that lingers in the material of Sinnett’s jacket. I wasn’t going to wear it tonight because it doesn’t quite match my work uniform, but I wanted to have a piece of him with me for his first game back.
Sinnett kicks the try conversion with ease and runs to the centre of the field to join the rest of the team.
Before I know it, the final whistle of the game sounds across the Brookvale stadium, and the fans cheer for the Wolves’ massive 42-6 win over the Campbelltown Giants. It’s a flurry of bodies moving past me—reporters, teammates, staff and the cheerleaders. But my eyes stay locked on Sinnett as he celebrates the win. I’ve never seen him this happy—all smiles and radiating a warmth that has me wanting to shrug off his jacket and get lost in his embrace instead.
Sinnett is right where he belongs, and I’m glad I was able to help him get back there.
I closemy eyes and lean my head against the cement wall beside the back exit to the stadium. The fans have long since cleared out, and the team has been busy with post-game interviews, celebrations in the sheds and cool down routines to keep their muscles from growing stiff after a gruelling game.
When Dad joined the team after the game, he couldn’t stop smiling. Partly because he was beyond pleased with the results of the game and how the team played, but I think it also had to do with Sinnett’s performance. I’m sure it brought him great pleasure to see his top star out there tearing up the field and on fire to the point where he was unstoppable. Dad has his side at full strength, which means he’s gunning for the top spot on the leaderboard.
The cool air whips against my cheeks, chilling me to the bone despite being rugged up. Strands of hair from my high pony tail whip around my face, but I don’t bother to contain them behind my ears, too lost in thought to care.
My eyes drift to the moon shining in the sky, casting a soft glow across the half-empty car park. Most of the staff and cheerleaders left not too long after the game. I didn’t see Zoe afterwards, choosing to keep my distance after what I witnessed before the game. Sinnett hasn’t told me much about their relationship, but judging by what I saw, it’s clear that Zoe viewed it differently to him. He was only looking for a distraction, and she wanted something more. They’re on opposite ends of the seesaw with no way of meeting in the middle.
While Sinnett’s words were harsh, he didn’t deserve to be slapped across the face. It’s something Zoe needed to hear, no matter how badly she refused to listen to him.
“What are you doing out here?”
I tilt my head to the right, spotting Raya approaching with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair falls around her shoulders in bouncy curls, the only remnants left from her cheerleading persona. Gone is the heavy makeup and revealing outfit, replaced with grey trackies and an oversized black hoodie. The woman even has Ugg boots on, ready to get home and into bed.
“I needed a breather after the intensity of the night,” I answer, tapping my thigh. My right foot is pressed against the wall, offering some support as I stare mindlessly at the gravel around my feet. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah,” she breathes, her shoulder brushing mine as she mirrors my position on the wall. “It was a good game, though.”
“A great game,” I agree, smiling. “Sinnett was amazing.”
“It’s why he’s considered one of the best in the league,” Raya supplies with a shrug. “No other halfback is doing it like him.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, remembering the smile he wore when he scored the last try of the game.
“I, uh… heard about the fight he got into with Zoe before the game.”
I exhale a sharp breath, my good mood crashing down around me. “I saw it play out in real time.”
“Zoe is always one to exaggerate stories.”
“I don’t know what she told you, but it was… rough.” I clear my throat and shake my head. “Sinnett told her the truth and she couldn’t bear to hear it, so she slapped him across the face.”
Raya snickers. “She told the girls she slapped him because he called her a slut, but I know Sinnett and that’s not something he would say to a woman. Unlike some men in this profession, he respects us.”
I close my eyes and drop my head against the wall. “Either way, I’m hoping this is the end of it. I don’t need the added pressure of Zoe lurking in the shadows when I’m already struggling to keep my father from finding out about us.”
“How is that going, by the way?” Raya questions, her voice holding no judgement. “The last you told me, everything was going great.”
“It is going great,” I murmur. “Better than great, actually.”
