Page 30 of Begin Again Again

“This is true.”

They strolled down the footpath, Beth hoping Lara would drop it. She had no such luck.

“What’s his place like?” Lara asked, fishing under the pram for an ice cream.

“Beautiful,” Beth admitted. “A mansion, basically.”

“Is he rich?”

“Maybe. Probably. He has a roommate, though.” Beth recalled the giant figure lumbering out of the darkness. “I ran into him when I was leaving. He’s fucking huge and covered in tattoos. Oh, and get this, his name’s Derek.”

“Derek?”

“Yeah, did I ever tell you that story—”

“About the guys from your school shoving their hands into each other’s ass cracks? Yeah, you did. Fucking Catholic school.” Lara held up a hand. “Wait, so this guy’s huge and covered in tatts, and called Derek?”

“Yeah.”

Lara’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Shaved head? Moustache?”

“It was pretty dark, and I was all freaked out, but I want to say… yeah?”

“Brutishly sexy?”

“Um, not my style, but I tend to like men who don’t jump-scare me in the middle of the night.” She stared at her friend. “Why? Do you know a Derek from Richmond? Should Nathan be worried?”

Lara didn’t smile. “Is his last name Hardiman? Is heDerek Hardiman?”

“That… depends on who the fuck Derek Hardiman is?”

Lara gaped at her. “He’s like, one of the top players in the AFL!”

Beth, who’d been thinking more along the lines of ‘Lara’s childhood sweetheart’ was mildly disappointed. “So?”

Lara whacked her arm. “Fucking Kiwi!”

“Oi, I can’t help coming from beautiful Aotearoa. Or not giving a shit about Derek Hardiman.”

Lara pulled out her phone and tapped frantically. “Is this him?” she demanded. “Beth, is this him?”

Beth looked at the screen. A guy in a yellow and blue jersey pumping his fist in the air. He had long hair and a thinner face, but she recognised the angel tattoo on his neck. “Yeah—that’s him.”

Lara gaped at her. “YoumetDerek Hardiman.”

“I did. Do you want my autograph?”

Her friend looked like she’d been gut punched. “Bethany, you fucking clown, Derek Hardiman isn’t just a football player. He’s like…thefootball player. He does Adidas ads. He does Bonds ads. He’s won the Norm Smith twice. He won the grand final last year!”

“Like… on his own?”

Lara sputtered her outrage. “He’s an icon! He’s AFL’s Tom Brady. He’s… he’sDerek fucking Hardiman.”

Beth nodded in what she hoped was an understanding way. She still didn’t give a damn about Byron’s moody-ass housemate. She cared about Byron. God, just thinking his name made her cunt twinkle…

Angus fussed in his pram, tossing and turning—probably protesting the lack of movement. Beth pushed the stroller back and forward. “Okay, Derek Hardiman exists and I met him. Can we get going?”

Lara stared blank-faced at her. “You have no idea what a big deal this is.”

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