Page 85 of Something to Believe In

Macca sighs, dropping his head. “I’m worried about him.”

A knot forms in my stomach, and I lean forward in my chair. “What do you mean, you’re worried about him? Why? What happened?”

“I went past there after footy and we went for a walk. I was kind of a little shitty with him because he didn’t come to the game, and…I think I might’ve made things worse.” He clears his throat. “He’s going to quit the team.”

I pinch my lips together, squeezing my eyes shut. “You know he’s just been told he might not be able to play anymore. Why would you do that?” I look over at him, glad to see him squirming uncomfortably. Oliver’s going through enough without his mates putting even more pressure on him.

“I thought a bit of tough love…” his voice trails off as he looks up at the sliding door to my house.

I follow his gaze and jump at the sight of Oliver standing there. His eyes are red, he’s been crying. He shakes his head, and turns to leave, but I call out to him and he pauses.

“I got your message,” he says quietly. He walks over and sits down next to me.

“Is it true?” I ask. “Are you really quitting the team?”

Oliver glances up at Macca before nodding. “Yeah. And before you say anything, it’s already done. I’ve just been to see Chris.”

Macca lets out a curse.

“Why didn’t you wait until you get the results back from your MRI?” I lace my fingers through his, squeezing gently. “Maybe things will be–”

“They’re not going to be okay.” Oliver shakes his head. “I’m still getting the headaches and the black spots. This isn’t just a minor injury. Like I told Macca earlier, I’m done.”

I sit there staring at him, stunned.Why is all this bad stuff happening to him? What did he do to deserve it?

“I won’t get my results for another week or so, but I asked the doc what he thought my chances are.” Oliver runs his hand roughly over his face. “Too many head knocks has put me in a high risk category for developing something called CTE. Chronic traumatic enpa-something. He said the constant headaches and blackouts are a cause for concern, plus whatever he saw on the CT scan has him seriously concerned, that’s why he sent me for the MRI. He said it’s becoming more common in professional footy players to have serious health complications when they retire.” His voice breaks. “And they can even start to have memory loss, anger issues and seizures. He said if I give up playing now, it’ll reduce the odds significantly, even with my previous head trauma.”

I don’t know what to say.

“It’s all over.” He buries his head in his hands. “No draft. No AFL. No future.”

Macca’s face mirrors my feelings.How can everything be over just like that?We both thought he just needed some time to recover. In a month or two he’d be ready to start training again. I’d even started thinking maybe he could just wait until next year and put himself forward in the Rookie draft. There were still options. But now he’s saying there’s not.

I wipe back the tear that drops down my cheek with the back of my hand. “Have you told your mum? Jake and Sam? What did they say?”

Oliver sniffs, his eyes shining as he lifts his head to look at me. “We spoke about it last night–about what the doc said. Mum’s relieved they won’t give me clearance. She doesn’t want me taking any chances after losing Dad.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, fighting to hold my emotions together. This is about him, not me.

“I didn’t know, man,” Macca says. “I never would’ve pushed you–”

“Forget it.” Oliver shakes his head. “I’ve just gotta figure out what’s next.”

I lift his hand to my lips. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”Just don’t push me away again.

40

The worst thing about returning to school on Monday is facing some of the other guys on my team. Chris sent out a team message on Sunday letting them know Macca was taking over as captain and that I’d be sitting out the rest of the season for medical reasons. He asked them to respect my privacy because the decision hadn’t been made lightly, but of course they all wanted to know what’s going on. It doesn’t take long for the rumour mill to reach Joel, and he finds me at my locker at the start of lunch.

“Is it true?” he asks rubbing the back of his neck. The dark bags under his eyes stand out against his pallid skin. He looks like shit, but right now I can’t bring myself to care.

I clench my fists after slamming my locker shut. “Seriously, Joel. You’re the last person I wanna see right now.”

He sighs. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Sarah messed with my head and…”

I cut him off with a look. “I don’t need to hear your excuses. It’s done and nothing can be changed now.”

“I’m sorry–”

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