Leopard Spots - 12. Chapter 12

“Dave Islington? I’m Dr. Karl Weisenburg. Come in and take a seat.”

Dave dropped the magazine he had been perusing while waiting for his appointment and stood up. He followed the psychologist into his office and glanced around. Dave had expected to see the traditional movie’s psychiatrist couch, but all he saw were a couple of comfortable chairs, a small sofa, and, in the corner, a desk holding a few folders and a laptop.

Dave took one of the chairs, sitting on its edge and leaning forward while the psychologist picked up one of the folders from the desk and relaxed into the other chair.

“I’ve got the letter from your doctor.” Dr. Weisenburg glanced at what he was holding. “Dr. Bardley. He said you’re having trouble sleeping and that you are also having some anger-management issues.” He smiled at Dave. “Why don’t you tell me about things from your point of view?”

Dave gritted his teeth. Charlie had encouraged him to tell the psychologist everything, but doing so looked daunting.

“I’ve been having mood swings for the last few weeks. I’m spending a lot of my time being angry without any real focus. I’m lashing out at people when they don’t always deserve it. I don’t know what’s going on....”

“Why don’t you give me some examples of when you got angry?”

“At first, it was because this girl I liked rejected me. I’d spent a few hours with her, just enjoying her company, but when I rang her to ask her out again, she pushed back. She didn’t want to see me again.” Dave clenched his fists. “She made it like there was something wrong with me!”

“Calm down, please, Dave. I know remembering these things will make you angry, but you need to learn to control your emotions. Techniques for doing that are one of the things we’ll be going over later.” Dr. Weisenburg smiled gently. “How long ago was this?”

Todd took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow down his racing heart. “Six or seven weeks ago.”

“You said that was ‘at first’. Have you been getting angry a lot since then?”

Dave swallowed once. “Yes,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Would you say that the incidents of anger have been at a constant rate throughout that period, or have they been increasing?”

“Increasing.”

“Did anything else happen around the time of that first incident?”

“It was just after our first practise match. We didn’t play that well.”

Dr. Weisenburg frowned and flicked through his notes. “Ah...you’re a football player. Dr. Bardley mentioned that, but he hadn’t emphasised the point. What team do you play for?”

“The Lilydale Leopards.” Dave grinned. “The best team in the VFL.”

Dr. Weisenburg smiled. “I trust you won’t hold it against me, but I’m a Collingwood supporter. There’s only one best team, and that’s the Magpies.”

“We kicked their butts in our last practise match a couple of weeks ago. We’ll do it again when we meet them again in the main season!”

Dr. Weisenburg chuckled. “I fear we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point, but if you defeated Collingwood’s VFL team, the Leopards have obviously improved from that first game you mentioned. How do you feel about your part in that?”

Dave thought back over the games. He’d done pretty well, getting praise from Peter after most matches. “Good, actually.” Dave grimaced as he realised he was hedging the truth, and he had promised Charlie he’d do his best. “But I was pretty aggressive, much more than normal. I couldn’t switch off that aggression afterwards.”

“I see.... Did you have any particular focus for that aggression during your games?”

The psychologist was making Dave think. He tried to recall how he’d felt while playing.

* * *

Neil waited by his locker. It was Friday afternoon, and Clarissa had promised to talk to him after school. She’d met him there a couple of times during the week, and his locker seemed the logical place for her to find him.

The week had gone well. He’d had no run-ins with his bullies at all. Indeed, they seemed to have made an effort to avoid antagonising him. In the classes he shared with them, they kept to themselves, sitting a good distance from him.

Clarissa had been quietly persistent in spending time with Neil, but she hadn’t pushed him as hard as she’d done initially. Her attitude to Neil had changed, and that still confused him. He continued to follow Todd’s advice, though, and allow Clarissa to edge her way into his life. That Friday, the last day of the first term, she had him join her and a couple of her friends for lunch.

Neil had been asked about his plans for the two-week break before Term Two, to which he said that he had gotten himself a job, but he was deliberately vague as to where it was. Clarissa and her friends hadn’t pushed for more details, something that made Neil happy, as he’d been concerned that they might plan on showing up at his work to embarrass him.

“Hi, Neil.”

Clarissa had approached without Neil noticing her. “Hi.” He stared intently, trying to read her. She seemed agitated or nervous.

“Would you like to walk home with me? At least part of the way.”

Neil tried to keep the frown from his face. Was she trying to hit on him? “That’s so we can talk along the way, right?”

She nodded once and then took a step away before waiting for Neil to join her.

As the two strolled away from the school buildings, Neil was the one to break the silence. “I..um...want to say thanks. Whatever it is you did, it worked. I haven’t been bothered all week.”

“That’s good.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad I could help.”

“But I still don’t know what it is that Liam was saying on Monday when he said you were right.”

When Clarissa didn’t respond immediately, Neil glanced to his side. She looked scared.

“Neil, I know this is going to sound bad, but please wait for me to finish. I don’t mean any harm, and I don’t want to hurt you, but you probably won’t like some of the things I’m going to say.”

Neil’s body was on automatic while his mind raced. He realised that she didn’t want to say anything, but she’d promised, and she was going to fulfil that promise, even if it upset him. He also knew she would prefer to not tell him what was going on, but that wasn’t because she was being sneaky.

“Neil?”

“Is this something I need to know?”

It was Clarissa’s turn to take her time answering. “Eventually, yes, but I don’t know if now is a good time.”

“Why wouldn’t it be a good time?”

“As I said on Tuesday, it’s because you might read more into what I’m saying than is really there. Later on, when you know me better, you’ll hopefully trust me more and realise that I’m not trying to be mean.”

Neil didn’t know what to think. He knew Todd was encouraging him to try to trust Clarissa, even if only cautiously. If so, he should back off and wait. On the other hand, he was scared that she was keeping something big from him, something that would hurt him down the track if he didn’t know about it.

“Neil? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay! I don’t know what to think anymore. It used to be easy: trust no one. Now, you’re asking me to trust you, even though I know you’re keeping a secret from me. You even know it’s going to hurt me. What am I supposed to think?”

Clarissa sighed. “Exactly what you just said. That you shouldn’t trust me. And that’s because you’ve had years of reasons for not trusting people. While Jerk Face and his friends are the main reason for that, the rest of us are just as guilty because we didn’t stop them. We’ve hurt you just as much as they did, maybe more.”

Neil slowed down while he absorbed what she had said. “Why do you say that?”

“Because bullies exist everywhere, but most people have safe places – or safe people who can give them shelter or relief from those bullies. You’ve been denied that, and the rest of the students here have been part of that denial. We’re a big part of why you’re so paranoid.”

When Neil started to glare, she winced. “Justifiably paranoid, Neil. So much so that that’s why I told Liam what I did, earlier on Monday. That’s what he was agreeing with.”

“That I’m justifiably paranoid?”

She cringed. “Not exactly.”

Neil waited. The two were approaching the side street where they would part ways. He was giving her a chance to explain, even though she’d already given him a lot of food for thought.

“I told him that I thought you were so badly hurt by what everyone had done, that you might snap.” She visibly swallowed before continued. “That you were becoming irrational. That you might decide to end the abuse by taking your own life.”

Neil’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His legs stopped moving, and he just stared. His mind had gone numb.

She stopped and turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Neil. I know how that must sound, but I want you to know that you’ve got a friend. Someone you can talk to. Someone you can just be with. I’m not talking about a girlfriend; just someone you can share things with. That you’re not alone.”

Neil took a step backwards as his defensive instincts started to kick in. His eyes never left Clarissa as she lifted up her hands in a silent plea for understanding.

“Neil?”

He took another step away.

“Neil, don’t go! I meant what I said. I want to be your friend!”

Neil started running.

* * *

Todd frowned at his phone as he prepared to pack up after work. Neil had sent him a short text every day that week since their chat on Monday night, but today there was nothing. Todd didn’t know if that was because Neil had something on after school because it was Friday or maybe because it was the end of term, but the silence concerned him.

Deciding to take the initiative this time, instead of letting Neil control when they communicated, Todd sent Neil a text asking how his day had gone. He then finished up and headed home. As usual, he arrived with just enough time to strip off his overalls, drop off his tool-belt and work bag, pick up his sports gear, and take Paul and Oliver to the stadium. It was literally seconds before training started before he had a chance to check his phone again.

There had been no reply.

* * *

Jarrod glanced out over the football oval. “Do you think they’ll be turning the sprinklers on again?”

Owen chuckled. “Didn’t you like it when they did that on Wednesday? As Peter said, we’ve had such a long run of dry weekends that our wet weather skills were getting rusty.”

“And, of course, that’s the day it decided to rain near the end of training.” Charlie glanced at his older housemate. “You didn’t answer Jarrod’s question.”

“I don’t think they will. For one, it’d cost too much if they did that regularly. Plus our game against Geelong tomorrow is going to be tough. Peter won’t want to risk injuries...” Owen glanced at Charlie. “...or any more injuries the night before the game. There’s certainly more chance of an accident in slippery conditions, so, no. Tonight will probably be a combination of light training and preparation discussions for tomorrow’s match. Peter will almost certainly then repeat the instructions for the trip, since it’ll be the first time for you guys.”

“How many of these long trips will we be making during the season?” Jarrod asked.

“Four,” Charlie said before Owen could work out the answer. “Geelong, Bendigo, Ballarat, Frankston, for our away games against those teams.”

“Six.” Owen smiled at Charlie. “Werribee and Cranbourne for the Casey Scorpions count as long trips, too. However, apart from Box Hill, all the stadiums are far enough away that Peter will want us to travel together in the bus. Exceptions can be made, especially for Roger and Ian since they’ve got young kids, but the preference is that we take the bus to all away games. He didn’t worry about it for the practise matches for some reason...” Owen’s voice drifted off.

Charlie guessed what he was thinking. “Because the club knew it was going to be short of money with a big sponsor pulling out, and not using the bus saved the club that little bit extra.”

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter.” Owen waved a hand towards the change rooms. “Come on, guys. Let’s get ready. Friday-night training, here we come.”

“You guys go ahead. I’m going to wait for Dave,” Charlie said.

“Okay, Charlie.” Owen and Jarrod entered the building, leaving Charlie waiting outside for their housemate.

Despite efforts from a number of players, Dave was becoming isolated from the rest of the team. Charlie was the only one who seemed able to communicate with him, and Charlie took the corresponding responsibility seriously.

Dave’s psychologist appointment had become an open secret in the team. Charlie didn’t know who had leaked the news, but a number of players had approached him and asked that he pass on their best wishes to Dave. Charlie wasn’t sure what to make of it. It told him that the other players were still concerned for Dave, but that they also wouldn’t, or couldn’t, approach him themselves.

Charlie glanced at his watch. Dave had five minutes to get there or he would risk being late for training. Charlie would have to go in at that time to get ready himself.

It was two minutes later when Charlie saw Dave drive into the car park. He waited for his housemate to grab his sports bag and approach.

“G’day, Dave.”

“Hi, Charlie.” Dave’s tone was flat, but he’d been using that tone for most conversations for over a week, and Charlie ignored it as the two headed into the building on their way to the change room.

“How did things go with the doctor?” Charlie had made a conscious decision not to refer to him as a psychologist.

Dave shrugged. “Okay. I’ve got to go back next week.”

“He helped you?”

“Sort of. Gave me some things to work on. Ways to control myself.”

Charlie frowned. “What did he say about your nightmares?”

“Nothing. We didn’t discuss them.”

Charlie stopped in shock. Those nightmares were, to him, the key to everything that was going on. He jogged the few steps needed to catch up with Dave who had kept marching. “Why not?”

“I hadn’t gotten around to mentioning them. He wanted to know about the times I was angry and how it was directed. We ran out of time to get to anything else.”

“Dave, you said you’d talk to him about them!”

Dave spun around and slammed Charlie up against the wall. “I said we didn’t talk about it!” He took a deep breath and let go. “He’s the expert. He wanted to talk about other things.”

Charlie watched Dave march down the hallway and into the change room. He stood there for a moment longer before following.

Any dreams of a quick fix for Dave had gone out the window.

* * *

Jarrod tossed his car keys to Owen as Charlie returned from the club-room bar with three beers. The training session hadn’t been challenging, as Owen had predicted, but they still wanted to relax with a drink afterwards. “You’re driving.”

Owen caught the keys by reflex. “How come I have to drive?”

“Because I’m about to have a drink, which means I’m not allowed to. You’re off your P’s, so you can have a drink or two and still drive. If you don’t drive, we’re all walking home.”

Jarrod found it annoying that since he was still on a probationary license that he had to have a zero blood-alcohol level if he was driving, but it was only until he was twenty-one. At eighteen, that seemed a long way away, but those were the rules.

Owen grunted. “If you put it that way.... Thanks, Charlie.”

The three clinked their bottles together.

“It’ll be good when Dave’s available to drive us again.” Jarrod glanced at Charlie. “Any word on how it went today?”

Charlie pulled a face. “He seemed to think they made progress, but it was only a small first step. He’s still got a long way to go.”

“Well, here’s to Dave and to a fast recovery from whatever’s wrong.” Jarrod raised his bottle and was immediately copied by the other two. They all took a swig.

“Ah...that tastes good.” Jarrod grinned at Charlie. “How’s it going between you and Stacey?”

Charlie didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Good, but slowly. We don’t want to rush things.”

Owen slapped Charlie on the back. “Great news. She seems like a nice girl.”

Charlie had a shy smile on his face when he looked up. “She is.”

Jarrod was about to make a teasing comment when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned around and saw a vaguely familiar face, but he couldn’t remember where he had met him before.

The semi-stranger smiled. “G’day, Jarrod. It’s good to see you again.”

Jarrod smiled hesitantly. “G’day...”

The guy laughed. “Yeah, I suppose I’m not that memorable. We had lunch one day back in March, just after Tony started working here.”

Jarrod grinned as he put a name to the face. “Alex!”

“Got it in one.” Alex glanced around. “Where do I buy the beers?”

“I’ll show you.” Jarrod grinned at Owen and Charlie. “Guys, this is Alex. Tony’s flatmate. Alex, these are two of my housemates: Owen and Charlie.”

“G’day, guys! I’ll be back soon, but I need something to drink first.” Alex smiled and cocked his head at Jarrod.

“Come on, before you die of thirst.” Jarrod led Alex towards the bar. “What brings you out here?”

“An interesting story. Friday night and my boyfriend’s working late, so I was at a loose end. Then I remembered something that was said on Monday, and I thought I’d check it out.”

Jarrod paid for another beer, waving aside Alex’s objections. “And what was that?”

“Jim was at our place, and he told Tony that I was never, ever, to be introduced to Ty.” Alex glanced around until he spotted Jim, Tony, and Ty. “So...care to introduce me, so I can find out why I’m not supposed to talk to him?”

Jarrod laughed. “Glad to!” He led the way, watching Jim as he approached. They were almost there before Jim spotted them.

“What the fuck?” Jim glanced at Ty and then at Alex, who was trying to look innocent. Jim gave an exaggerated sigh. “My life is over.”

“Why?” Ty seemed puzzled.

Jarrod broke in. “Brat, this is Alex, Tony’s flatmate. Apparently, Dad didn’t want you two guys to meet.”

Ty grinned. “Is that so?” He stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Alex grinned back as they shook hands. “Likewise.”

“Alex, what are you doing here?” Tony had a faintly pained expression on his face.

Alex shrugged. “Jim told you that you weren’t to introduce me to Ty, so I thought I’d ask Jarrod to do it instead. Plus, I was bored. Ethan’s working late again tonight.” He smiled at Ty. “I’ve got lots of juicy gossip on Tony. I’m guessing you’ve got the same on Jim, so how about we pool what we know and see what we come up with?”

Ty laughed as he draped an arm across Alex’s shoulders. “Dad, I’ll make my own way home tonight. I want to spend some time getting to know my new friend, here.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Why me?” He gave Ty a wry grin. “Don’t forget the midnight curfew, brat.”

Ty’s expression went serious for a moment. “I won’t.” He put on a cocky smile. “Curfew’s when you’re supposed to be sleeping, Dad, so make sure you and Tony are finished by then. I’ll get Ryan to check on you two, just in case.”

Alex frowned at Tony. “You’re not heading home?”

“Sorry, no. Jim and I going out for dinner soon, and it’s easier if I stay with him for the night.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“Shit! I was hoping for a ride back. This place is out in the boondocks, and it’s not easy to get to or from.”

Ty frowned. “The train will get you close to wherever you need to go, and a cab will take you the rest of the way.”

Alex grimaced. “Unless you’re a poor student like me and can’t afford taxis.” He sighed. “Oh, well, another fifty-minute walk it is.”

Ty looked thoughtful. “I’ve got a suggestion. Rather than heading home, why don’t you stay with us? That way you can have the job of checking on Tony and Dad at midnight to make sure they’re not up to no good, and none of us poor straight guys will risk permanent damage. Tony can take you back in the morning when we head off to Geelong.”

Jim and Tony groaned in unison while Alex grinned as he pulled out his phone. “Sounds perfect! I’ll let Ethan know, just in case he’s wondering where I am.”

“Cool. That’s all settled. Now we just need to get together to work out how else we can make Dad’s and Tony’s lives a misery.” Ty flicked Jim a cheeky grin as he led Alex away.

Jarrod laughed at Jim, who had a hand over his eyes and was shaking his head from side to side. “Did I do something wrong, Dad?”

Jim sighed. “I’ll get you for this, Jarrod. You don’t know what you’ve done putting those two together.”

Jarrod chuckled. “I’ll let you be, then. See you later, Tony!” He headed back to join Charlie and Owen with a huge grin plastered across his face. He had some fun news to share.

* * *

Pamela peered at the menu. “How does this work?” The four were seated around the small table at the Isshin Japanese House in Lilydale, with Jim opposite her and Tony opposite Deon.

“Firstly, Jim and I are paying. This is our treat.” Tony smiled at Pamela. “It’s a fixed price, no matter how much you order, and you can keep ordering until nine. Just order something that takes your fancy, and they’ll cook it straight away. Keep ordering for as long as you want.”

She pointed to a statement on the menu. “What’s this about wastage?”

“That’s to stop people ordering lots and not eating it. As long as you eat what you order, or at least most of it, that doesn’t apply. If you order and don’t eat, that’s extra over the fixed-price amount.” Tony grinned. “With these two garbage guts here, I don’t see that there will be a problem with leftovers.”

Jim stared down his nose at Tony. “And you don’t eat much?”

Tony shrugged. “I love eating, but I can’t eat everything you guys can eat. I’ve already spoken to the staff here to know which items are gluten-free, and it’s not everything.”

“Sorry.” Jim looked sheepish. “I keep forgetting.”

Tony patted him on the arm. “It’s okay. It takes getting used to.”

Pamela chuckled as she scanned the menu. “There are so many things I want to try; it’s hard narrowing it down.”

Tony shrugged. “Start at the top and keep going until you’ve had enough. That’s as good an approach as any.”

Ten minutes later, they had ordered their first round of food and had settled back in their chairs. The first of the two bottles of wine that Tony had brought was open and in an ice bucket.

“You guys really didn’t need to do this,” Pamela said.

Jim smiled across the table at her. “Yes, we did. I don’t want to spend the night talking about her, but I really appreciate how you’re helping Denise. I didn’t like what I did to her, and I’m still feeling guilty about it. I’m not sure how I’d be feeling if I didn’t know that you two and Deon’s mum weren’t there to help her cope.”

Pamela’s expression was harshly neutral. “You hurt her more than you can imagine when you told her you’re gay.”

“Jim knows that,” Deon said. “He also knows he can’t do anything to make up for what he did. Trying would just make it worse.”

Pamela shook her head. “He thinks he knows, but he doesn’t really.” She sighed. “I know you want to help her, Deon, but it’s hard for me. I can imagine myself in her shoes and...I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I told you at the start that I didn’t think it would be a good idea to go see her without you, just in case she got the wrong idea.”

Pamela smiled. She leant over and gave Deon a quick kiss. “And I love you for that. I know I’ve been cranky about the time we’ve spent with her, but don’t stop just because of me. Your heart is in the right place, and I’ll cope.”

“And this dinner is just a small thank you to both of you.” Jim sighed. “I wish I could do more, but I can’t so I wanted to show you, in particular, Pamela, how much I appreciate what you’re doing. Deon knows how I feel, but I hadn’t had a chance to properly thank you.”

Pamela put a hand on top of Deon’s as she smiled at her boyfriend before turning back to Jim. “You didn’t need to, but this is really nice. Deon and I haven’t had a night out like this for several weeks.”

“Would you like to do the same, next month?” Tony grinned. “Jim and I are open to any excuse to go out for dinner.”

Pamela chuckled. “That would be nice, but you don’t have to.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Tony looked thoughtful. “A Saturday night would give us more choices because we could travel further. I think there’s a Sunday game next month. How about we go out the night before? I’ll find us somewhere nice.”

Deon caught Pamela’s quizzical expression. “Tony’s got a friend who’s a food critic. He’s been to lots of restaurants around Melbourne and eaten at all the good ones. He picked the place where we had Jim’s twenty-first last month.”

Tony blushed. “Not all the good ones. I know of them, but I haven’t been to all of them.” He grinned. “But I’ve been to a lot, and I’m happy to share what I know.”

The conversation moved onto other topics as the four chatted. It wasn’t long before the second bottle of wine was opened, though Tony was careful to keep his alcohol intake down since he had volunteered to be the designated driver.

* * *

“Neil! It’s great to hear from you.” Todd relaxed on his bed, a great weight of concern lifting as he did so.

“Sorry, Todd, but I had my phone off. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.” Neil quickly continued. “Not you. It was someone else I didn’t want to talk to.”

“Can I ask who?” Todd was careful not to push. Like Lorraine, he tried to treat Neil gently.

“Clarissa. She...”

Todd could feel the anger in Neil’s voice. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not suicidal!”

Todd’s eyes went wide. He struggled to find something to say, but Neil didn’t wait for a response.

“She said I’m being irrational. That I’m paranoid. Well, she’d be paranoid, too, if the whole school was out to get her!”

Todd had to mentally agree with the paranoid part, but he also agreed with Neil that at least some of it was justified. Not the whole school, maybe, but definitely some significant parts.

“Are you okay?” Todd asked.

There was silence for a moment. “I’ll get over it. I won’t be seeing her again for another two weeks. By then, maybe I’ll forget about her. She wanted to catch up during the holidays, but there’s no way!”

Todd spent the next twenty minutes easing the story out of Neil. He sensed it was too early to point out that Clarissa had only been concerned for Neil and decided to just offer emotional support instead. When the time was right, he changed the topic to the get-together planned for Sunday. He wanted Neil to finish the call in a positive frame of mind.

* * *

Ty glanced around the change room at Simonds Stadium in Geelong. “Wow!”

Jim grinned at him. “Pretty flash, heh? That’s because this is also an AFL stadium. It’s the only one we play in, though a few others used to be used by the AFL.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.” Ty turned slowly as he took in his surroundings.

Roger grinned at him. “You’re going to have to put in a lot of effort if you want something like this all the time.”

Ty frowned. “What was it like? Playing in the AFL, I mean.”

Roger pulled a face. “Now’s not the time for that, brat. If you’re interested, I’ll talk about it on the bus trip home, but for now, let’s get our minds on today’s game.”

Ty’s expression hardened. “Right. Focus, Ty, focus.”

Peter scowled as he stepped into the middle of the room. “Good advice, brat, because I saw too many people on the bus acting like this was a holiday. It’s not. Get your minds onto what we’re here to do.” He glared indiscriminately around the room. “Anyone who doesn’t put in a hundred percent effort will find themselves not only sitting on the bench but also probably starting there for the next game, too.”

Zach jumped forward. “We’re here to win, guys. Let’s get out there and do it!”

The team responded with a cheer and a discordant round of comments.

Roger grinned at his teammates and pumped his fist. “Let’s show them what the Leopards are made of!”

The roar that followed had everyone on their feet. The team was back on track.

Peter waited until the noise level dropped enough for him to be heard. “Okay, guys. Listen up. I’m going to go over the game plan one more time...”

* * *

The team was back in the change room for the half-time break. The atmosphere was much more subdued than it had been before the start of the game. The Leopards were four goals behind after a late goal spree by Geelong.

Peter glared around the room. Most of the players wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’d like to point out the highlights from the first half, but there are too few of them. We kept up the pressure for the first quarter and the start of the second, and then we let all that hard work go to waste. Why?”

“They always seemed to have a loose man at the end there,” Paul said. “They were getting too many easy shots in front of the goals.”

Peter nodded. “We weren’t tagging our opponents closely enough, and whenever we didn’t, they took advantage of it. We could get away with it for some teams, but not the ones we’re going to have to beat if we want to make the finals.” He narrowed his eyes at the midfielders. “Jim, Ryan, your opponents broke away from you too often. Next half, whenever the Cats have the ball, you stick to those guys like glue. You don’t let them get away from you, no matter what. Understood?”

The guys nodded glumly.

“Jarrod, I’m dropping you back into defence. Your job is to spot any free Cats player and shut him down. Position yourself near centre half-back and be ready to sprint to wherever you’re needed.”

Peter waited for Jarrod to acknowledge the instructions before turning to his next target. “Ward, you’re taking over for Ty. Work with Paul and Todd to keep that backline as tight as we can make it.”

Ty’s mouth dropped open. He didn’t say anything, but his scowl informed everyone of his displeasure at the implication. Ward was the main interchange player for the defenders.

“Ty, we need goals. We need them fast. You’re starting on the backline, but as soon as that ball is bounced, move to the forward zone. Hopefully, the Cats won’t realise we’re playing an extra forward until we’ve kicked some goals and started some momentum towards catching up. I’m not expecting you to kick all those goals, but you should be able to make opportunities for the other forwards.”

Ty grinned.

“Time to shine, brat! Make them learn to never take a Leopard lightly,” Zach called out from across the room. The rest of the team echoed the sentiment.

“Quiet!” Peter glared them all into silence. “Ty’s not going to rescue us, and I don’t want anyone thinking he will. Everyone has to do that job. We’re leaving our midfield weakened with the changes we’re making, and that’s the area where we’ve had the tightest battles. Dave, you’re starting in the second half.”

Dave looked startled. He’d been on three times during the first two quarters, but had only been used sparingly.

“I need you to do what you did in the practise matches: shut down your wing and restrict how much room they’ve got for progressing the ball up the ground. All I ask is that you don’t get reported.”

Peter didn’t wait for a reaction. “Jim, Ryan, that’ll mean more action for you guys. Block it up as much as possible. Don’t let them get through. You’ve done it before. We need you to do it again.”

He spent the next few minutes continuing to give detailed instructions. Peter then worked on rebuilding the team’s self-confidence. He’d sensed the team’s panic when Geelong had broken away to a two-goal lead, and that had led to the mistakes that conceded the extra two goals near the end of the second quarter.

They had a tough fight ahead of them, but the game wasn’t lost.

* * *

The ball was stuck under a pile of players in the middle of the ground after the centre bounce to start the second half. It didn’t look like anyone would be able to get the ball out, so Ty took the opportunity to jog up the ground, receiving a nod from Jim as he went past. As Peter had hoped, no one was paying any special attention to Ty as he joined the forward line; they all had their own opponents to keep an eye on.

When the umpires called for a ball-up to restart play, the Leopards were ready. This time, Zach won the ruck duel and tapped the ball down to Ryan who immediately kicked it forward and to the right. Jim and two Geelong players raced for the ball, but the bounce favoured Jim who grabbed the ball and spun around the first opposition player. Before he was tackled, he handballed the ball to Oliver who had sprinted up from the forward line.

Oliver turned, saw Ty by himself, and used a sharp punt kick to give Ty the ball. Ty knew he was too far out for a good chance of a goal, so he immediately played on rather than giving the defence a chance to settle and maybe realise that the Leopards had an extra player forward. Ty handballed to Roger who was running towards him and then took off, giving Roger the opportunity to return the ball.

“Look out behind, Ty!”

Roger’s yell told Ty that he had someone coming up from behind as well as Deon’s defender who had left his man to try to intercept Ty. The goal posts were about twenty-five metres in front of him, but Deon’s opponent was bearing down fast. Rather than try to take the shot while under pressure, Ty dodged to the side to give himself a clean line of sight to Deon. A quick stab pass and Deon had marked the ball, only twenty metres out. Deon didn’t wait and immediately snapped a shot that passed through the middle of the two large poles: a goal.

Grinning broadly, Ty jogged up and grabbed his teammate in a hug. “Fucking fantastic, Deon!”

Roger joined them and slapped Deon on the back. “That’s another one down. Keep it going, mate!”

Ty glanced around. “I think I’d better head to the backline before anyone thinks I’m pretending to be a forward.”

Roger laughed. “Do that, brat, and then come back and give us some more help later. Let’s see how long we can keep the Cats guessing as to what we’re doing.”

The Leopards were able to repeat that success one more time, this time with a goal to Roger, before Ty found himself being tagged by one of the Geelong midfielders.

“I thought you were a defender,” the shorter Geelong player remarked as the umpires returned the ball to the middle after the second Leopard goal of the quarter.

Ty grinned, showing his blue mouthguard to his opponent. “I am. I was getting bored.”

The other guy snorted. “Yeah, right. Nice trick, but it’s not going to work again.”

“We’ll see...”

* * *

Marcus glanced at Sam before turning off the television. “I enjoyed that, even if the guys lost in the end. They certainly didn’t give up.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah. If they’d won, I was going to try ringing Deon to congratulate him, but I don’t think he’d take a call from me at the moment.”

Marcus slipped his arm around his lover. “Probably not, but we’ll be there in person next week, and you can try talking to him then.”

“I know. Hopefully he doesn’t screw me around again.” Sam rested his head on Marcus’s shoulder.

“He probably will,” Marcus said, knowing that Sam needed honesty as well as support. “It’s going to take him time to change. He’s working on it, though. The more he gets to know you, the more he’ll realise that the image he has in his head isn’t the reality that’s sitting next to me.”

Sam turned his head and gave Marcus a light kiss. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you send him a text, offering your commiserations? He won’t have to talk to you, and it leaves it up to him as to whether he replies. It tells him that you watched the game without pushing him into having to respond.”

Sam’s mood immediately lightened. “Great idea. I’ll do that now.”

Marcus kept his fingers crossed that Deon would eventually come around. He believed he would, but Deon had displayed a stubborn streak that could foil all of Sam’s hopes if it persisted.

* * *

Charlie sat with Dave at the front of the bus, just behind the driver. It didn’t take much effort for Charlie to realise that that was the position in the bus where it was easiest for Dave to isolate himself from the rest of the team. The only mistake Dave had made was to sit next to the window, allowing Charlie to slip into the spot next to him. Dave had glared when he had done so, but Charlie ignored him.

The overall mood in the bus was subdued. It was a lot quieter than the trip down, though Dave’s stony silence was the same for both. There were low-voiced murmurs between a few adjacent teammates, but there were none of the loud conversations being shouted around the bus that had been a staple of the trip to Geelong.

On the other side of aisle from Charlie were Peter and Julie, with Will in the seat behind them. The three were holding a quiet discussion. Charlie guessed it was an initial post-mortem of the game. Further down the bus, he saw Deon putting his phone away only to pull it out again a couple of seconds later and frown at it. A few other players were making quiet phone calls, but many were sitting by themselves in a self-absorbed silence.

Charlie glanced at Dave who was staring out the window at the other traffic on the freeway from Geelong to Melbourne. As Charlie had expected, Dave was ignoring him, but he hadn’t forced him to move away. Charlie saw his role as showing support for Dave while preventing his teammate from being completely separated from his friends. Dave’s performance in the second half had been one of the highlights of the game for the Leopards, but he had intimidated anyone who tried to offer their congratulations. Charlie wanted to make sure there was still a bridge between Dave and the rest of the team for later, when Dave’s problems were hopefully resolved.

“Fuck this!” Ty’s shout drew everyone’s attention, even Dave’s for a moment. “So we fucking well lost. Big deal! The only time it really counts is when we play them in the finals. This one doesn’t matter.”

There was a moment of silence before Roger half-rose from his seat so he could look back to where Ty was sitting. “Too right, brat! We made mistakes. What are we going to do about them?”

Roger paused to glance around the bus, but Zach jumped in to answer what was supposed to be a rhetorical question. “We work out what we did wrong and make sure we don’t do it again!”

“Fucking right!” Ty clambered out of his seat and started working his way down the aisle, holding onto the backs of the seats as he went to cater for the movement of the bus. “Next time we play them at home. Next time we’ll beat the fucking pants off them!”

Roger grinned. “Next time. We won’t forget what happened, but we won’t let it hold us back!”

Ty reached Roger and the two smiled as they clasped hands in affirmation. “Next time!”

The others started to join in. By the time Ty reached the front of the bus, every player apart from Dave was chanting the two-word slogan. Ty grinned down at Charlie. “And next time, you’ll be there, too,” he said quietly.

Charlie smiled at his friend and teammate, and nodded his head. “Next time.”

Ty looked past Charlie. His expression softened. “You, too, Dave.”

Dave turned his head and glared at Ty. “Fuck off.”

Ty shook his head. “I’m a brat, Dave. Brats don’t give up on teammates. Get used to it.”

Charlie glanced past Ty to where the coaches were seated. Peter had a small half-smile on his face as he stared up at Ty’s back.

* * *

To his surprise, Neil found that he was enjoying himself. He hadn’t expected spending time in a park kicking a kid’s football with Sean, Todd, and Ty would be fun, but it was. Neil wasn’t even self-conscious with how poorly he performed. He was marginally better than the six-year-old Sean, but there wasn’t a lot in it.

Ty’s presence had been a pleasant surprise. He had been waiting for them at the park, playing with a full-sized football. When it became clear that Ty was trying to involve Neil in whatever activity or conversation they were having, Neil felt a warm glow, and he knew he had a grin on his face.

Ty had asked some personal questions, but Neil had given vague responses to those he didn’t want to answer. After some initial worries, he decided that Ty was just trying to know him better. Since Ty appeared to be one of Jim’s closest friends as well as one of Jim’s housemates, Neil tried his best to keep Ty happy. If things worked to plan, Ty would be one of Neil’s housemates, too.

They had been playing for almost twenty minutes when Ty put his fists on his hips and mock-frowned down at Sean. “Where were you yesterday? We needed someone like you to put those pesky Geelong players in their place!”

Sean grinned. “I was watching you on TV.”

Ty straightened and grinned back. “Did I look any good?”

Sean bit his lower lip and glanced at Ty nervously. He started to edge away without saying anything.

“What’s wrong, Sean?” Todd asked.

Sean looked away from Ty and buried his head into Todd’s leg. “I don’t know which one he was,” he said in a meek voice. “I only know your number.”

Ty smiled and knelt down to Sean’s level. “I’m number seventeen. I was near this lug,” he said, flicking a thumb in Todd’s direction, “for the first half of the game, and then I was at the other end, trying to kick goals. I got one, but it’s okay if you don’t remember it.”

Sean turned his head slowly towards Ty. “I think I saw you. You were okay.”

Ty grinned. “I’ll take that as high praise. You obviously know a lot about football.”

Todd laughed and tousled Sean’s hair. “How about you show Ty what you’ve been learning at AusKick while Neil and I recover from all the running around you’ve made us do?”

“Okay.” Sean seemed hesitant.

Ty took him by the hand. “Come on. If I’m going to get any better, you’re going to have to teach me everything you know.”

Sean gave him a smile and then tugged him forward. “I’ve been learning some great moves. I’ll show you!”

Todd moved next to Neil as the two watched Sean lead Ty away.

“Ty gets along well with Sean,” Neil said.

“You do, too.” Todd chuckled. “Of course, both of you are a lot closer to Sean’s age than me.”

Neil hesitated for a moment. It was clearly meant as a joke, but he wondered if Todd was implying that he was childish. Since he had included Ty in the comment, Neil decided he was reading too much into an innocent remark. “Old age catches up to all of us eventually. You’re just first in line.”

Todd laughed. He grinned down at Neil. “Happy?”

“Very much so. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much for...” Neil blinked as he struggled to remember ever having that much fun.

“I’m glad. We’re going to have to do this again – soon.” Todd turned his attention to where Sean was showing Ty how to dodge other players, with Ty pretending to fall over his own feet as Sean ran past. “I work fulltime, but Ty doesn’t. Since it’s school holidays, you can probably catch up with him during the week, if you want. He’s usually at the club if he’s not working. Get him to tell you his schedule and organise a time.”

Neil pulled a face. “I’d like to, but I’ve got myself a job for the holidays. If it works out, I’ll go fulltime after I turn eighteen.”

“Congratulations! Whereabouts?”

Neil hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t see any reason he shouldn’t tell Todd. “O’Grady Sports in Lilydale.”

“That’s where Jim works, at least for now. I heard he’s moving on soon. He’s always said good things about his boss, so it sounds like you’ve found yourself a great deal!”

Neil’s mouth dropped open. It hadn’t occurred to him that the job vacancy might’ve been because Jim was quitting.

“Are you okay, mate?” Todd asked.

Neil gulped and quickly came up with a plausible lie to cover his reaction. “I didn’t know Jim worked there!”

“Only for another week or two, I believe. It looks like you’ll be taking over his position in the store.” Todd grinned. “If you get the chance, have a chat with him. He’s a great guy, and he might be able to offer some advice about your situations at school and home.”

Neil nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He had thought everything had fallen into place when he scored that job, but he was mistaken. He would have to work hard to make a good impression on Jim, especially after his failure at the club.

* * *

The skeletal, grey-haired man cautiously lowered himself into his swivel chair, breathing a sigh of relief once he was done. His arthritis was playing up again, and sometimes even simple movements involved a level of pain.

After a single glance at the clock, Patrick O’Malley started his normal Monday morning routine. His assistant had already loaded the DVD of the weekend’s games of interest, and all he had to do was to press the play button. As was his norm, he started with the VFL’s game of the round that had been recorded from the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s telecast. The ABC’s broadcast quality was always better than the patchy recordings of the various junior competitions he also monitored. That superior quality allowed him to play the DVD at double-speed and still have a decent understanding of what was occurring.

He paused the game several times while taking notes. Occasionally, he rewound the play and watched sections again at a slower speed. He was on his third page of notes and was just over halfway through the game, when he paused the DVD, frowning at the picture displayed.

“Christopher!”

His assistant poked his head through the door. “Yes, sir?”

“What have you got on number seventeen for the Lilydale Leopards?”

Christopher Talbot retrieved the tablet from his desk and started flicking through screens. “Number seventeen for Lilydale.... Here we are. Ty Flanders, age eighteen. Tall defender. Six feet two inches and a bit over one hundred and eighty pounds at the time of last year’s draft.” Christopher automatically converted the 189cm and 83kg values he had on the screen to the imperial measurements his boss preferred. It was one of his talents that made him indispensable to the older man. “Rated highly at the AFL draft camp in Canberra last year, but wasn’t selected by any of the clubs.”

Mr. O’Malley snorted. “Your information is out of date. He’s also a forward.”

Christopher flicked through some more screens. “I don’t have any record of that. He played exclusively as a defender in the TAC Cup last year, and that’s the position he tried out for in the draft.”

“Come over here and have a look at this, then.” Mr. O’Malley replayed the last couple of minutes he had been watching, showing his assistant the portion of the game where Ty had been involved in a running exchange with a couple of his teammates that led to a goal by Deon. “That’s not the play of a defender on the forward line. That’s a genuine forward. A little inexperienced, maybe, but one with definite talent. That’s one of Geelong’s second-tier AFL players that he so neatly sidestepped, making his opponent look like he’s barely out of nappies.”

“I’ll update the records, sir.”

“Do that. Also, why wasn’t he drafted last year? We could do with someone like him.”

Christopher referenced his tablet again. “We looked at him, as did at least one other club, possibly more, and he was discussed internally several times. We eventually rejected him on psychological grounds.”

“Psychological? Be more specific.”

Christopher quickly scanned the information so he could summarise it for his boss. “He had a major attitude problem. We invited him to a training session, and he yelled abuse at a couple of our senior players for failing to deliver the ball to him cleanly. His arrogance was so high that he didn’t trust anyone else to do the job. Unless he had to, he tried to do everything himself and would blame others if anything went wrong. The psychological evaluations from the draft camp showed the same thing. In short, he wasn’t a team player. Popular with the other potential draftees, though, despite the arrogance, probably because he was so talented.” He frowned as he read a final note. “His father apparently had a similar attitude. I’ve got reports from staff members saying that they’d prefer to have nothing to do with the dad. None of the player agents wanted anything to do with him, either.”

“By ‛him’, do you mean the father or the son?”

“Both, actually” Christopher shrugged. “The father wanted everything done his way, and no one could get through to the kid that he had to be a team player if he wanted to be drafted.”

“Someone did.” The grey-haired man resumed playing the DVD at his usual double-speed. “Put him on our watch list.”

“Sir?”

Mr. O’Malley nodded towards the screen. “I’m seeing him as a team player. He’s not hesitating to pass the ball off, and he’s giving support and encouragement to his teammates. I don’t know what’s changed, but that’s a kid we want to keep an eye on. I want someone at each of his games until further notice. I want detailed statistics, especially on assists from what you’ve said, video footage where possible, and reports on his attitude in the club rooms after each match. I especially want to know what he’s like when the Leopards lose. Let’s find out how much of that old attitude still exists.”

Christopher made a note to instruct Champion Data, the company that collected player statistics for many of the AFL clubs, to monitor Ty Flanders. “Do you want someone to approach him?”

“Not yet. It’s still too early in the season. He might be a one-game wonder.”

Christopher smiled. “But you don’t think so.” His boss was one of the club’s hidden assets. Despite not appearing as such on the club records, he was their principal, early-talent identifier and the primary reason the club sent out scouts to video junior games rather than just report on them as most teams did. Others would eventually spot what he saw, but he was almost always the first to do so.

He received a smile in return. “No. The boy looks inspired. If he can keep that up for the rest of the season, he’ll be someone we want here. Skill-wise, he’s currently a first or second round draft pick. It all depends on if he continues to play like that, and if his attitude problems have been properly addressed.” Mr. O’Malley’s lips pursed. “See if you can find out what led to the change. It might be useful to know. A few of the youngsters here could do with a bit of fixing up in that respect.”

“Do you think the other teams will spot him?” Christopher knew that most of the focus on potential rookies was on various junior competitions, such as the TAC Cup for under eighteens in Victoria, though a handful of players from the VFL, and the equivalent competitions in other states, were selected in most drafts.

The old man rolled his eyes while still watching the action on his screen. “Over half the teams in the VFL are either AFL reserve teams, or affiliated with an AFL team. There’s not a chance in hell that he won’t be noticed. Geelong are probably investigating him as we speak since they’ve just seen first hand what he’s capable of. Our best hope is that the other clubs rely on last year’s data, like you were reading out to me, and don’t realise that something’s changed.”