Page 52 of After the Siren
Then Stavs exhaled, long and steady, and Jake watched him deliberately unclench his fingers from around the jumper.
‘I’m good,’ he said, and Jake realised that he was still rubbing circles on Stavs’ back, their faces only a handspan apart.
Jake shuffled back and levered himself up onto the bench again. He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around Stavs, but he let their shoulders press together.
‘I can get Xen in here if you need a pep talk.’
Stavs smiled. It wasn’t a very convincing smile, but it was something. ‘The one you gave me at the beach was pretty good.’
‘First and last.’ Jake was never going to be a pep-talker. It was why he’d never be leadership material. Not that he minded. He’d have to be less of a pest if he was supposed to inspire people and shit.
‘Come on.’ Stavs picked up the jumper and folded it neatly. His hands were still shaking, but he was starting to smile for real. ‘I have faith in you.’
‘Okay, here goes.’ Jake pretended to pick up some grass and throw it into the air like he was preparing to take a shot at goal. ‘You’ve killed it in the last couple of games.’
‘In the VFL.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s all footy.’
‘Hmm.’ Stavs smoothed his fingers over the part of the number on the jumper still visible. ‘Maybe.’
Jake watched him trace the outline of the ‘2’ and the ‘7’. ‘Did you pick 27?’ he asked, deciding a distraction might work. ‘Or are you one of those weirdos who doesn’t care what number you wear?’
Stavs glanced up. ‘It’s my friend Priya’s favourite number. I’ve been wearing it since high school.’
‘Cute.’
‘Why do you wear 9?’
‘It was my mum’s number. When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like her. Wasn’t tall enough to ruck though.’ He sighed. ‘Crushed my dreams.’
‘You seem to be doing alright.’ Stavs’ smile faded. ‘Must be nice.’
More pep talk was going to be required. ‘Are you gonna go out there and do your best?’
Stavs gave him a look. ‘Yeah.’
‘Well, that’s all anyone wants from you.’
‘It’s professional footy. You don’t get participation trophies.’
That was true, and it was something Jake had been reminded of by a succession of shitty school coaches. Maybe Jake had even said it a couple of times himself.
He knocked his shoulder against Stavs’. ‘You’re not supposed to fight me on this. It’s a pep talk, you gotta let yourself be pepped.’
Stavs sighed. ‘The media stuff last year messed with me,’ he said. ‘I just ... I don’t want to go through that again.’
‘Seriously, fuck them,’ Jake said. ‘They just want a story. They say fucked-up shit abouteveryone. Last week they ran a story about how Yelks is past it because he dropped a mark.Onemark. Every third week some hack says Xen’s too short to play footy or that Raze is overweight. They don’t know shit.’
‘It’s just ... it’s neverjustabout me.’ Stavs was twisting his fingers through the drawstring of his hoodie. ‘They say you have tosee it to be it, right? I get that. Maybe I would have gotten into footy as a kid if there had been more players who looked like me. And now here I am, and they’re just watching me fail, and seeing racist shit people put on social media.’
Jake was absolutely not the person who Stavs should talk to about this. It wasn’t that he didn’t kind of get it, because he felt the same way about coming out – what if he couldn’t take it, what if it just proved to a whole lot of queer kids that theycouldn’tbe queer and play AFL? But he did not feel like he was the person to havethisconversation with.
‘You could talk to Raze or Paddy, you know,’ he offered, hoping it didn’t sound likeplease talk to Raze or Paddy about this.
Stavs looked amused, so Jake was going to take that as a win. ‘I shouldn’t talk to you about it?’
‘Well, you can, but I’m real fucking white.’
