Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mason
“Okay, last twenty minutes, boys. Don’t let them in and keep fucking pushing,” Matty said, wiping a line of sweat off his forehead as we clustered together and grabbed bottles of water from the edge of the pitch. It was the first pool match of the Cup competition, so of course it was a baking hot Saturday afternoon with temperatures reaching the low thirties as the last of the August sun beat down on us with such fierce intensity it felt like my skin was sizzling.
If I managed to survive without getting sunburn on the back of my neck, it would be a fucking miracle.
We didn’t usually get water breaks, but since it was so hot, the fears about us suffering dehydration were high and we’d been instructed to take a water break in the middle of each half to get our breath back, drink, and cool down. It made me wish even harder for the matches in the middle of winter where the ground was hard under my boots and our breath clouded in the air. Because anything would be better than this. It was like playing rugby in hell.
“We’re three tries up,” Danny said as he poured the last of his water over his hair and rubbed it in. “Surely we can ease up a bit?”
“Yeah, we don’t want to completely flatten the poor bastards,” Bailey added. His skin was already bright pink, but I wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or sunburn. We’d all been told to put plenty of suncream on, but that didn’t mean everyone had listened.
Matty nodded slightly. He’d been our captain for the last two seasons and we all trusted his judgement. If Matty said to push, we’d push. But that didn’t mean we had to use up everything in our tanks and completely demoralise our opponents. Southampton were in the league below us and I’d been worried they might present a real challenge, but that hadn’t materialised and it felt almost cruel to punish them spectacularly in the first match of the season.
“Take it down a notch then,” Matty said. “But that doesn’t mean we can let them back in. I don’t want to have to explain to Clive that we decided to ease up and that’s why it was close. I want that three-try lead to stay there. If they score, it’s on all of us.”
I nodded in agreement and chugged the last of my water, glad for the moment of cool relief. I glanced up into the stands, my eyes scanning over the crowd. I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew, especially not amongst the cheering mass of faces, but it was nice to see so many people coming out to support us. Especially so many kids.
Idly, I wondered if Ryan was here somewhere. He hadn’t mentioned anything to me, but then again, I hadn’t asked. I’d wanted to, but I hadn’t known how and finding the words had seemed to get more difficult with every day that went past. I wanted him to be here, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated either.
Maybe I was making it more complicated than it needed to be.
The referee blew his whistle to indicate the break was coming to an end and we all put the empty bottles into the carrier slots and jogged back onto the pitch. It gave me a chance to have a proper look at the Southampton team for the first time since we’d come back out after half-time. It was obvious that while they were fit, the physical intensity of the match and the weather was starting to take its toll.
A couple of their forwards were definitely panting despite the break, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if their coaching staff made a couple of rapid substitutions. I was sure Clive would probably do the same for us soon—get some fresh legs on the pitch and give a couple of the younger players a chance to get stuck in. Clive had made three subs at half-time, which left us with five and he’d probably use all of them.
We still wanted to win, and win with ease, but there was no point flogging ourselves to death unnecessarily.
The match resumed with the Knights making the restart kick and we were straight back into play. I wasn’t the fastest runner on the pitch, but I didn’t have to be. Outside of the scrum and lineouts, what I had to be was a battering ram, hitting the opposition’s defence hard and keeping them busy so the nippier members of the team could get through. I wasn’t afraid of using my strength either, and I’d happily run full tilt into the other team.
Jonny went down beside me, two guys around his waist, and slid the ball out to the side. I bent down and grabbed it, tucking it under my arm. I wasn’t expecting to get far, but I didn’t have to. Ultimately, it needed to get out to someone like Danny, who was as fast as he was mouthy and had been known to sidestep men twice his size in split seconds. And sometimes if that didn’t work, he’d just fucking shoulder barge them out of the way—his speed carrying him through.
My legs burned as I pushed forward, looking for a gap between the oncoming wall. They’d left a gap just big enough for me to carve my way through. And if a couple of them got hit, that was their fault.
Southampton were doing their best to close us down and I felt hands grabbing at my shirt as I forced my way through the mass of muscle in front of me. Someone got his arm around my waist and another went for my knees and I knew I was going down. I glanced behind me and saw West, and I lobbed the ball, trusting him to catch it and pass it on. Then I hit the deck, the dry grass scraping my skin.
The air was punched out of my lungs and it took me a couple of seconds to get back up. Mostly because I had to wait for people to get off me.
Someone patted my ass, a gentle prompt for me to move my butt, and I hauled myself to my feet and set off again.
The ball had moved further down the pitch and I watched it go into touch. It meant Southampton would get the lineout, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t get the ball back if their hooker threw it badly or Hunter managed to get one of his long arms on it.
We took our positions near the touchline and although I could see the crowd cheering, the sound had become nothing but background noise. It was something I’d learnt to tune out from a young age, and I’d always joked it was because I’d grown up with three noisy older sisters and learning to ignore them had been good practise.
“You ready?” I asked Hunter and Jaden, shaking out my fingers and watching Southampton’s hooker carefully. He was shorter than West, who was taller than most hookers anyway, and there was a little tiredness starting to show on his face. “I think it’s gonna skew towards the centre,” I added quietly as I bent down and took my position, resting my hands on Hunter’s sweaty ass. “He’s tired and his last one wasn’t straight either.”
“Agreed,” Hunter said, not turning his head. “Just get me up there.”
The hooker threw the ball and Jaden and I exploded upwards as Hunter jumped, the two of us launching him skyward. I was too focused on getting him down again safely to see everything that happened in that split second, especially when Southampton crashed into us as soon as Hunter was down.
But it was too late because out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of Matty’s ginger beard and I knew Hunter had gotten him the ball.
We were still a little way from the try line, but it was a start.
The ball kept moving and I was happy to do my part, but a couple of minutes later I saw my number flashing up and I knew I was being substituted. I nodded and jogged over to the edge of the pitch, applauding softly as I moved. When I got there, George was waiting for me, a fierce grin on his face and excitement burning in his eyes.
“Give ’em hell,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder as I sloped off the pitch towards the bench. I was handed a bottle of water as soon as I stepped into the shade, and I drank half of it before I’d even sat down.
Two minutes later, Jonny joined me, cotton wool shoved up one nostril, and I raised an eyebrow when I saw him. “What did you do?” I asked, looking fondly at the bloody idiot.
“Not my fault,” he said with a wry smile. “Someone elbowed me in the face when I was trying to get up from a tackle. Wasn’t anyone’s fault.”
“So is this a blood sub or—” Rugby allowed for injured players to be substituted off the pitch to have any blood or injury taken care of, but they could then swap back in again once they were cleaned up and able to play. It was more of a safety thing than anything, but there had been cases in the past where teams had abused the blood rules to get specialised players onto the pitch for crucial moments without using one of their permanent substitutions.
“No.” Jonny shook his head. “I was coming off anyway. This happened as I was getting up to come off.”
“Trust you,” I said with a soft chuckle.
“Least it’s not broken,” he said, touching his nose and then pulling the cotton wool out to inspect it. “See, it’s stopped already. ”
“I don’t want to look at it! I’m trying to fucking watch.”
“They need to get it to Devon,” Jonny said. “He could kick it from there.”
I looked at where everyone was on the pitch and hummed. I’d only seen Devon play in training, but given his record at Marseille, I knew what he was capable of. “Yeah, it’d be an easy drop goal.”
We kept watching, both of us drinking our water and commenting on the match. The substitutions from both sides had added more pace and I could see Southampton were going to keep pushing to the end.
There were only a few minutes of game time left and I kept willing time to go faster.
“By the way,” Jonny said, his eyes still fixed on the pitch. “You know Ryan’s here, right?”
I tore my eyes away and stared at him, mouth falling open. “What?”
“Yeah, he’s here with Rory.” Jonny glanced at me and frowned. “Did you seriously not know? How the fuck did you not know?”
“I… just didn’t,” I said. “Did he get a ticket?”
Jonny shot me a scathing look before turning back to the pitch. “Obviously.”
“From where? Did he buy it?”
“No, I got it for him,” Jonny said, watching as the ball was passed to Devon and both of us stared, hearts in mouths, as he dropped it neatly in front of his boot and launched it over the bar, scoring us another tidy three points.
The crowd went wild and Jonny leapt from his seat, cheering and applauding along with them. It was nice to see how close Jonny and Devon had gotten over the summer, and I was pleased for Jonny that he’d been able to reconnect with the guy he’d grown up with. Friendships like that were invaluable.
But from the way Jonny was looking at him, I started to wonder if…
No, I wasn’t going to assume anything. Two guys could totally be close friends without it being anything else. West and I were a prime example of that.
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask you himself,” Jonny said as he sat back down.
“Yeah, me too,” I said, not sure if I was hurt Ryan hadn’t or cross with myself for not asking.
“I told him we’d meet him afterwards,” Jonny said, shooting me a smile. “He’s gonna wait in the family lounge with Rory.”
“Cool, sounds good,” I said, not really sure of what else to say. Even though I was annoyed at myself for not pulling my head out of my ass and getting him a ticket sorted, I was glad Ryan was here.
And I really hoped I’d impressed him today.