Page 97 of After the Siren
‘Maybe,’ Priya acknowledged. ‘But you could just say something simple, right? Like,I’ve known for a long time, but haven’t felt ready to share it.And if they want to interrogate you, you can say you don’t want to talk about it.’
‘I think they’ll be hurt I didn’t tell them earlier.’
‘I don’t think that’s a you problem.’
‘It mightbecomea me problem.’
‘Why don’t you enlist Eva? We work out what you want to say, then you talk to Eva about what you don’t wantthemto say, and she talks to them and lays down some ground rules.’
It was a good idea. ‘That might work.’
‘Are you going to tell your whole family?’
‘If I tell my parents, I’ll also tell Simon and Alisa. And I think I’d tell them not to keep it a secret. It can just sort of – trickle out to the extended family. I’m not telling everyone individually, that would take years.’
There was a rustle of fabric. ‘I’m getting another drink. Go make a cup of tea and get a snack. We’ve got some brainstorming to do.’
Theo got to his feet. ‘Aye aye, Captain.’ He left his phone on speaker on his desk and went down to the kitchen. He thought about Priya’s question as the kettle boiled.Why now?
Talking to Eva about Jake (even without using Jake’s name) had made him feel closer to her than he had in years. They hadn’t talked about it again that night, they’d just watched movies until they were both yawning and stuffed full of knafeh, but afterwards there’d been an ease between them he couldn’t remember feeling before. He’d let her in, and he was glad he had. Had taken the risk that she wouldn’t react the way he wanted her to.
Maybe he needed to do the same with his parents. The conflict about his footy had resolved into a silent stalemate, and that silence had crept into everything else. He’d stopped talking to them about anything he cared about. There was nothing wrong with self-preservation, but it wasn’t fair to behave as though they’d react the same way to everything. He didn’t owe them the truth about his sexuality, but hewantedto tell them. Hewanted them to know him, properly, even if they didn’t always understand him.
By the time he’d made his tea and returned to his desk, he had a plan.
‘I’m back,’ he told Priya. ‘But I think I’ve worked it out. Your services are not required.’
She sighed. ‘I’m still taking the credit.’
‘That’s fair, you did suggest the tea. Enjoy your drink.’
‘I will. Text me if you need anything.’
‘Will do.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Everyone had bad games. That was footy. It happened. You picked yourself up, you did whatever you needed to do to vent, and then you got the fuck over it. But Jake didn’t like bad games, and two in a row felt like getting kicked when he was down. It was also a shitty time to be having bad games; the middle of the ladder was tight, and while the Falcons were on track to make the eight, it wasn’t a sure thing.
They were playing the Sharks in the kind of weather that turned the ball into a heavy leather weight made to break fingers. It had stopped raining midway through the first quarter, but the ground was soaked and everyone was sliding and fumbling. The game had been scrappy and the score was tight. A few missed calls both ways – one that had left Yelks with a split eyebrow. Tempers were running high.
Jake didn’t like the Sharks. He hadn’t ever liked them, and he particularly didn’t like them with Jamie Collins in their midfield. He hadn’t been sad to see Collins traded from the Falcons, and he knew Collins was itching to mash him into the mud.
At least Stavs was playing well. It was like watching a totally different player. Maybe he wanted to stick it to his old team, or maybe he was just better than Jake at keeping shit compartmentalised.
Or maybe he didn’t have much to compartmentalise. It had occurred to Jake – belatedly, as usual – that when he told Stavs he’d want more if they weren’t teammates, Stavs hadn’t said the same thing. And Stavs seemed fine. He was friendly, and it wasn’t weird. It made Jake want to drown himself in the ice bath.
Not that he should be thinking about any of that during a game.
The ball had been stuck in the Falcons’ D50 for what felt like eternity, stoppage after stoppage. Tenders finally managed to extract it – a thumping kick down the wing – and Jake started to move. The ball went over Stavs’ head but he chased it down and took possession through sheer bloody-mindedness. A shepherd from Raze sent his direct opponent flying and then Stavs tried to get it in low, a spearing kick towards Tommy, but a Sharks defender punched it free and Tommy ended up at the bottom of a pile of players.
The umpire blew the whistle and Tommy was slow to get up. Jake moved closer, circling, his opponent hard on his heels.
There was a scuffle between a Sharks player and Paddy – Paddy had taken exception to Tommy being held down on the ground – but the umpire balled it up anyway.
When Sheds won the tap, Jake was already on the move. This was what he did. He reached for the ball, knowing exactly where he’d need to put the kick.
Everything went black.
