Page 90 of Begin Again Again

“It’s all good.” His tone was light, but there was a ragged underside to it, a tongue scraped across a loose tooth.

A million excuses filled Beth’s mind, but she held them all back. Byron dove. She waited for him to surface, turning in the water like a seal. She’d always loved swimming. She could surf and dive and snorkel, but nothing beat a good old-fashioned swim.

Byron emerged, hair dripping. “Do you know much about footy?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

“Not really. But I know the Hammerheads are, you know,professional. And I know you were a big deal.”

“Hmm.”

“Still are? Or were? I don’t know if you’re still playing or… not?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m out of my depth here. Pun not intended.”

Byron sank shoulders-deep into the water. “It’s fine, Horoscopes. And it’s ‘were.’ I am no longer a big deal.”

“Sorry,” she said again.

He said nothing. They circled each other slowly. Beth wasn’t sure who was predator and who was prey. She wanted to wait him out, hear what he put forward next, but she was an amateur at prolonged silence, and he was a seasoned pro. She smiled at him. “Did you like playing for them? Do you miss it?”

His jaw jutted and she knew she’d made a mistake. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to answer.”

Byron looked skyward. “You want to know if Ilikedplaying for the Hammerheads?”

A prick of shame followed by the steeling of Beth’s spine; a journalistic response honed on hundreds of interviews. She tossed her fringe from her face. “It’s just a question. Like I said, you don’t have to answer.”

For a second, he held her gaze, eyes as cold as the water around them, and she wondered if he was going to tell her to fuck off. A politician in Port Waikato had once. Then he closed his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a cunt.”

Beth waited, the blue-green water lapping at her back, sucking her hair into fat ropes.

He opened his eyes. “I never thought about liking it. It was just what I did.”

She exhaled. “That makes sense. It’s also really impressive you played AFL, by the way.”

“It’s just a game. And only a game that matters to Australians. Not even all Australians.”

“Queensland and New South Wales are pretty committed to rugby.”

“Two kinds of rugby.”

“That’s right. What’s the one where guys are always pissing in their own mouths? League or union?”

He huffed out a laugh. “League.”

Beth twisted in the water. “So, if football wasn’t fun, what was it?”

“My entire life.”

His bluntness made her wince. “I thought they were trying to make being in the pros less stressful?”

“I mean, maybe. But it’s still getting drafted into professional sport.”

“I get it,” Beth said, though she didn’t. “Do you still play?”

“Nah.”

“Injury?”

A thousand galaxies seemed to swirl through Byron’s eyes. He refocused his gaze on her, but there was something absent in his expression. “Blew my knee in my second season.”

“Fuck.”

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