Page 13 of After the Siren
‘Well, yes and no. Most players don’t line up for a goal after the siren thinking their career is on the line.’
‘Plenty of other players would have slotted it.’ He tried not to glance towards Cunningham.
She looked at him levelly. He had the uncomfortable sense that he’d given away more than he’d meant to. ‘Maybe. But maybe not.’
Theo switched legs, reaching one arm up and feeling the pull up his side. ‘Bet you’ll think twice about giving me a game now.’ He tried for a joking tone.
Kat’s eyebrows formed an unimpressed V (they were expressive eyebrows). ‘I’m not going to send you out there if you’re not in the right headspace, that’s right. But you wouldn’t have made that joke if we were talking a niggly hamstring or a sprain that hadn’t come good. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no difference here. What happened to you in the past means that there’s something getting between you and your best footy. I’lldo everything I can to give you the tools to manage it. All I expect from you is for you to work with them.’
He nodded, half convinced.
‘You boys are all the same,’ she told him, shaking her head. ‘You think you’re the first person in the world to need some help. You’re not, trust me. Not the first, won’t be the last.’
Theo rose to his feet and moved into a quad stretch, holding the fence so he had a reason to turn away. He wasn’t quite ready to meet her eyes. ‘So what do I do?’
‘Well, all our players see one of our club psychs. I’d like to send you to Jenny, if that’s alright with you. She’s worked with lots of players around anxiety. She has a background with performers of all kinds – I think after opera singers, footballers are easy. But if you’d rather talk to a bloke, Mick is also great.’
‘Jenny sounds good.’ Priya would be delighted. She could stop sending him links to psychologists based in Melbourne.
Kat dropped into a pigeon pose and Theo followed suit.
‘I’m not going to grill you about how you ended up in a bad place. Jenny’s the one who’s qualified to help you unpack that. But remember that you can always talk to me. If something’s going on, if you’re having trouble, come and say something.’ She reached out a hand. ‘Deal?’
He took it. ‘Deal.’
He wasn’t sure if he felt better, but something had changed. Had unravelled, or at least loosened. The anxiety was still there, waiting behind his ribs, but it had receded.
Kat got to her feet. ‘Have you ever played on the wing?’
Back to business, then. ‘A bit, not for a while.’
‘I want to try you out there.’ She gave him the type of look he usually saw on the faces of women in Birkenstocks sizing up produce at the farmers’ market. ‘Not necessarily forever, but I think it might suit you.’
On the one hand, playing on the wing put him a comfortable distance from the big sticks. On the other, it tasted a bit too much like failure. He’d always played forward, always kicked goals.
‘Sounds good,’ he said.
Kat clambered to her feet. ‘It will mean playing a more defensive role, but you’ll adjust. If you manage to shut down Jaze or Tommy, you’ll be ready for anyone. Just don’t hit them too hard. We need them.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
Chapter Three
‘He officially hates me.’ Jake tipped his head back against Xen’s bed and closed his eyes. Xen was sprawled on top of the covers and had banished Jake to the floor. It was too hot to share, apparently.
They’d been given an hour to themselves before dinner. Jake was too wrecked to do anything except flop onto a comfortable surface. Or a flat surface, at least. He hadn’tslackedin the off-season, but maybe he hadn’t done as much as he could have.
Bestavros clearly hadn’t slacked. He’d smashed the running drills, and he hadn’t needed to throw up into a bin afterwards. It had been impressive. Notes had been taken on clipboards. Kat had nodded more than once. For the first time, Paddy had been beaten in the two-kilometre time trial.
So, Bestavros: hot, good at running, not a fan of Jake. That last part wasn’t a surprise, but Jake wasn’t used to his teammates not liking him. Sure, he was a pest. It was pretty much his whole deal. Opposition players didn’t like him. Opposition fanshatedhim. But his own team: they liked him. He might be a pest, but he wastheirpest.
‘Yeah? What did he say?’ Xen was bouncing a tennis ball off the wall. It was probably very irritating for Bestavros next door.
‘It’s vibes.’ Jake twisted the fidget ring around his finger. It had been an ironic gift from Keeley, his best friend since they’d been in kindergarten, but the joke was on her, because he liked it.
‘Have you apologised?’ Xen asked.
‘No. Why would I bring it up?’
