Leopard Spots

Chapter 45

Tony muted the television and smiled at Jim as the two snuggled on the couch in Tony’s apartment. “What do you think?”

They had been watching the much-publicised interview between Sir Michael Parkinson and Ian Thorpe, the retired Olympic-gold-medal-winning swimmer for Australia. As had been anticipated from the advertising all week, Ian Thorpe had come out of the closet.

“I understand how he felt. If I didn’t need to come out when I did, I doubt I would’ve.” Jim grimaced. “I think Ian handled things better than I did, though. He went through a very successful career while keeping his sexuality hidden.”

Tony snorted. “Not that well-hidden. Rumours followed him for years. He kept denying them, but people kept believing them.”

“Maybe, but he also did much better than me. I wouldn’t be surprised if trying to stay closeted was part of his drive to succeed. For me, it was a distraction, stopping me from putting all my efforts into my game.” Jim grimaced. “The part that got to me was how he said he was only sixteen when he was first asked by a reporter if he’s gay. Of course, he was going to say no! It’d be great to think he could’ve said yes, but too much of Australian society wasn’t ready for that. He was going to an all-boys school; answering the question truthfully would’ve given him a world of hurt. I’m just glad he’s finally able to get past that.”

“Do you think he needed to come out?” Tony asked.

Jim stared. “Why are you asking me that? You know my feelings on the subject.”

Tony grinned. “Because I want to get you prepared. I expect you’ll be getting phone calls and emails from the newspapers very soon asking for comment.”

“You can’t be serious.” Jim looked at Tony’s growing grin and grimaced. “You are serious! Why would they want to talk to me?”

“Because you’re another high-level, gay athlete.” Tony cocked his head. “You’ll probably be asked about Ian’s comments on depression and alcohol. Do you think that being gay and trying to keep it hidden played a part in that?”

Jim chuckled as he pulled himself out of Tony’s arms and sat upright. “Well, Mr. Hills, while that might be tempting,” he said in a formal tone while grinning broadly, “I don’t believe that’s a significant factor. Ian Thorpe said he doesn’t believe it’s the root cause, and since he’s the one who experienced it, we should take him at his word. Depression is a clinical condition that shouldn’t be blamed on particular experiences like being gay. Being gay and afraid to come out may be  contributing factors in amplifying the effects of depression in some situations, as Ian said, but they are not the cause.”

Tony laughed for a moment and then sighed as he looked back to the television. “Depression’s not really a joking matter. It can be serious, as Ian said in his interview.”

Jim pulled Tony to him and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever been depressed, not like that. There’s been times I’ve wanted to scream at the world—times I’ve been so frustrated with not being able to be honest about how I felt—but never to the point of not wanting to go on. I can’t imagine how that must feel.”

Tony hesitated for a moment. “Before you came out, Jim, you…” He pulled a face. “You were beginning to break. You weren’t always making sense when you spoke to me on the phone.”

“I know.” Jim gave a heavy sigh as he rested his head against Tony’s. “But that was because I was being torn in two directions. I wanted you, but I couldn’t have you without coming out. I was afraid…” He turned and kissed Tony’s hair. “I’m glad it all worked out for us. I hope it does for Ian, too.”

Tony’s reply was interrupted by a short, sharp music clip from the table next to them. The two guys looked at each other and laughed. “It looks like you were right,” Jim said as he reached over and picked up his phone. He glanced once at the caller ID and grinned. “G’day, Colin. What’s up?”

“Jim, I’ve been fielding urgent requests for comments from you about the Ian Thorpe interview. Are you free to speak to a couple of journalists tonight?”

Jim smiled at Tony. “Yeah, sure. Get me the details, and I’ll give them a call.”

* * *

Liam smiled as Neil got off the train on Monday morning. The two had caught up a few times during the school holidays, but it hadn’t been often enough for him. As Neil approached, Liam pulled out the copy of the newspaper he had brought from home.

“Hi.” Neil’s greeting was soft, but the smile that accompanied it had Liam grinning in response.

“G’day. Here, I thought you’d get a kick out of reading this.” Liam handed over the newspaper, already folded to highlight the section in question.

Neil looked perplexed as he accepted the offering. “What am I looking for?”

Liam’s grin broadened. “If you read the article about the Thorpedo’s coming out, you’ll see a couple of familiar names. Jim’s been quoted, but there’s also someone else…”

Neil frowned as he scanned the report. Liam knew Neil had reached the relevant section when his eyes suddenly widened. He looked up, shocked. “But…”

Liam laughed as he draped an arm across Neil’s shoulders. “It seems someone’s a media celebrity. A radio interview on Friday—which I’m sorry I missed—and then having that interview being reported in the newspaper today.”

“I didn’t know…”

Liam used his free hand to ease the newspaper out of Neil’s loose clasp. He then read the appropriate part. “Gay teenager Neil Rosewood remarked in a radio interview on Friday that having high-profile gay athletes can help young teens. Rosewood used the example of how Jim Henderson’s coming out back in March had encouraged his own boyfriend to do the same soon afterwards. Henderson agreed with Rosewood’s statement, adding that he would still prefer it if being a gay athlete wasn’t such a big deal. He also said that he understood Ian Thorpe’s previous reluctance to come out, and he wished Ian all the best.” Liam gave Neil a squeeze of excitement. “How does it feel to be in the newspaper? You even mentioned me, which is an added bonus.” Liam released Neil and stepped back. His grin slowly faded as Neil appeared distressed rather than excited. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want this. I just want to be me.” Neil turned away and stared down the length of the train-station platform. “Why can’t people leave me alone?”

Liam placed a hand on Neil’s shoulder. “You’ve been alone enough, Neil. Please…don’t be alone again.”

Neil’s head snapped around. “I didn’t mean you! I meant…” He grimaced.

Liam smiled softly and tilted his head towards the exit. “Let’s get a move on. Another school term is about to start.” Liam turned to go but was surprised when he felt his arm being grabbed. He looked back and soon found Neil’s lips on his.

The kiss didn’t last long before Neil stepped away. “Thank you.”

Liam didn’t ask what for. He just grinned. “Time to go?”

Neil nodded, and the two headed to school. By unspoken mutual agreement, they didn’t mention the newspaper article as they strolled along the suburban streets.

As Liam expected, Clarissa was waiting at the school gates for them. What he didn’t expect was to see her chatting with Doug and Rod. By the way Neil almost stumbled, Liam suspected it was also a surprise to him.

The two exchanged looks, and then Neil shrugged. “We won’t know what’s going on if we don’t talk to them.”

Clarissa was the first to react. She grinned and stepped forward to give Neil a kiss on the cheek. “I take it you had a good couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, it was great. The radio station’s offered me a part-time job working a couple of nights a week.” He gave Liam a tentative smile. “Thursday and Friday nights, but I don’t start until seven. I was thinking I could go to your place after school and leave from there for work if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course, it’s okay!” Liam grinned. “I’ll cook you something for dinner before you go.”

Doug rolled his eyes. “You’re becoming pathetic, too, Liam. Can’t you see he’s a bad influence on you?”

Liam hesitated before responding. He usually knew when Doug was being serious, but this time he wasn’t sure. “Cooking dinner’s not pathetic. As Mum’s told me, it’s good practise for when I move out of home.”

Clarissa lifted her gaze to the sky for a moment. “Give me strength.” She then took Neil’s arm. “It seems like the little boys are going to have a spat, so how about you escort me to our homeroom, and you can fill me in on this radio interview you never told me about. I’ve also got something I need to discuss with you.” When Liam took a step forward to join them, she scowled. “Not you. You stay here and keep the other small minds amused.”

Liam hesitated and then smiled. “Love you, too, Clarissa.” He wasn’t sure what was going on, but given the efforts Clarissa went through to help him with Neil, he trusted her.

“She’s a bitch,” Rod said once Clarissa and Neil were out of earshot.

“Sometimes, but her heart’s generally in the right place.” Liam turned to Doug. “What were you two talking to her about?”

Doug chuckled. “You, actually. She’s trying to work out what to give you for a birthday present. I suggested her virginity, but she wasn’t impressed.”

Liam snorted. “I’m surprised you’re still standing. I wouldn’t be impressed, either. She’s not my type.”

“Yeah, I know. You go for losers, and while Rod’s right and she’s a bitch, I don’t think anyone can call her a loser.” Doug cocked his head. “Why did you invite her to your party? Given that she’s your ex and that it’s a football-themed party, it was a surprise when she said she was going.”

“Neil asked me to.” When Doug raised an eyebrow and Rod scowled, Liam chuckled. “Apparently, one of the Leopard players is keen to ask her out. He’s going to be there helping out with the football clinic, and he was hoping she’d be there, too. Neil asked me to make it happen.”

Doug scowled as he shook his head. “That loser’s got you wrapped around his little dick. I think the best birthday present you could have would be to dump that loser and find someone else.”

“Listen to him, mate. Doug knows what he’s talking about.” Rod glanced at Doug as if looking for approval before frowning at Liam.

“Not going to happen.” Liam grinned at Doug. “I know you think I can do better, but I don’t think so. Neil’s perfect for me—in more ways than one.” He smirked. “And he doesn’t have a little dick.” Liam hadn’t seen it—he and Neil were still going slowly—but from the bulge he’d noticed after their make-out sessions, he was sure that Neil had nothing to be ashamed of.

Doug held up both hands. “Too much information, mate!” He sighed. “I wish there was some way to make you see sense, but until then…” He gave Liam a wry half-smile.

“Doug’s right. You’re better off without him,” Rod said.

“And if you do come to your senses, I promise I’ll go with you to a gay bar when I turn eighteen to help you find someone decent.” Doug draped an arm across Liam’s shoulders. “I even promise I won’t hurt anyone who tries to hit on me, no matter how much I want to punch their lights out. You deserve better, mate. You have to know that.”

Rod nodded his agreement, but Liam didn’t care. He smiled back at the two. “I think we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

* * *

It was Monday lunchtime when Deon noticed that he had an email from someone he didn’t know. His first reaction was that it was spam, but the subject was concerning his football career. Curious, he opened the email, and then his eyes widened as he scanned the short message. It was a request to have a talk with a person named Alastair McCrae, who said he was Kevin Scanlan’s agent, along with a link to his website and a phone number to call him back. After a short hesitation, Deon rang the number.

“McCrae Sports Management, Alastair McCrae speaking.”

“Hi, Alastair. I’m Deon Bradshaw. You sent me an email…”

“Deon! Thanks for calling. Your mate Kevin has been harassing me to speak to you.” Alastair’s voice held more than a hint of laughter. “In fact, he won’t shut up about you.”

“What’s this about?”

“Well…Kevin has been pointing out to me that, while only eighteen, you’re currently the leading goal scorer in the VFL. He believes that means you’ll have a decent chance of being drafted at the end of the year, and he suggested that I might be interested in being your agent.” Alastair chuckled. “After I checked out the details, I think he’s right on both counts.”

Deon swallowed. “You really think I might be drafted?”

“It’s a distinct possibility. I’m not saying it’s likely,” Alastair added quickly, “but it’s possible. You’re certainly doing everything you can to make it happen. How about we meet up for coffee and a chat, and we can talk things through?”

“I’m not planning on being in Sydney any time soon. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not a problem at all since I’m Melbourne based, though I’ve got clients across the country like your mate Kevin. Being an AFL agent is a nationwide job, nowadays.”

Deon stalled while he tried to rein in his racing thoughts. “What exactly does an agent do?” No one had approached him the previous year when he was playing in the TAC Cup, though a couple of agents had spoken to one of his teammates.

“A good question. I’ll go into more detail when we meet, but my main job would be to help you with any issues you might have that the club isn’t addressing, being there as a friendly ear whenever you need to talk, and handling contract negotiations. Your first contract will be standard, so there’s nothing to do there, but as your agent I’d be able to negotiate on your behalf for any future contracts.

“Something else that is probably not as important for you, given the fact that you’ve already finished school, is that we agents also help with things like budgeting, buying a car, and all the other things that happen when you find yourself in a full-time job for the first time. For some of my guys, I’m even managing the payment of their bills for them.” Deon heard the light-hearted amusement in Alastair’s tone, but he also sensed the affection the agent had for his clients.

“The idea is that you don’t have to look after everything. As your agent, I’ll be there to help and to take as much of the load off you as possible so you can concentrate on your football while also planning for your future. I’ll be your helper and advocate, to make things as easy for you as possible. The club will do that, too, but they won’t always look after your best interests if those conflict with the club’s goals. I will. Kevin said to say that after you’ve spoken to me, he’s happy to talk to you about what I’ve done for him so you won’t have to take my word on anything I say.” There was a short pause. “So, when would be a convenient time to meet up? Don’t worry about me; in my job I’m available pretty much 24 hours a day. After work or on a weekend suits me fine if you can’t get away during the day.”

“How about after training one night this week?”

“I can do that, but I’ll need to check with your coach, first. Agents need to be accredited, and one of the rules is that we’re not supposed to interfere with training or games.” Alastair chuckled again. “It’s a good rule, because otherwise some kids would be swamped all the time by agents trying to sign them up. Just so you know, I’ve already sent the Leopards an email telling them that I’d be contacting you. That’s another one of the rules. The AFL is pretty strict about how agents approach prospective draftees. That’s why I sent an email first rather than trying to call you, even though Kevin gave me your number.”

Deon was starting to believe that this was actually happening. “How about tomorrow afternoon? I’ll be at the club training in the morning, but I can make time after lunch.”

“Great! Does around two sound okay to you? I can meet you at the Lilydale Leopards club, or you can nominate a place.”

A few minutes later, Deon was putting away his phone. He had a nervous smile on his face as he considered the prospect of having an agent and—possibly—being drafted.

* * *

Rod scowled at where Liam was eating his lunch with the girls and Neil. “It’s just wrong.”

Doug glanced up from his food. “What are you talking about?”

“Liam and Four-Dork. It shouldn’t be happening.” Rod grimaced as he turned back to Doug. “Is there anything you can do to stop it?”

Doug pulled a face. “I’d love to, but Liam’s got his heart set on Four-Dork. Don’t ask me why, but it’s what he wants. My hands are tied.”

“But Four-Dork? Almost anyone else would be better.” Rod shook his head. “Liam doesn’t hang around with us much anymore. That bastard’s taken Liam away, and Liam doesn’t care.”

“Liam cares. He’s still making an effort to see us, just not as much as he used to.” Doug shrugged as he returned his attention to his food. “It’d make me really happy if Liam broke up with Neil, but I don’t see that happening. He’s already warned me to not interfere; he wants this to work, and he doesn’t want me to fuck things up.” Doug grinned for a moment. “My understanding is that any fucking is to be done by Liam.”

“Yeah…. Liam’s definitely the man in that relationship, but Four-Dork’s doing the usual girl- manipulative thing. Getting Liam to do what he wants just so Liam can get laid. You can even see it in that newspaper article. Four-Dork gets his name mentioned, but he couldn’t be bothered to use Liam’s name, too.”

“I noticed that, too. Liam said he didn’t care, but it certainly pissed me off.” Doug scowled. “Why isn’t my best mate good enough to mention by name?”

Rod gave Neil another glare. “Why can’t Four-Dork just fuck off? Things aren’t the same without Liam in the group.”

Doug gave Rod a friendly slap on the back. “I know, mate, but we have to live with what is, not with how we’d like things to be.” Doug stepped over and dumped the remains of his lunch into the nearest bin. “I’m off to the footy oval to see if anyone else is around. Are you coming?”

“I’ll be there soon. I’ve got a couple of things I have to do first.” Rod couldn’t help scowling in Neil’s direction.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” Doug followed Rod’s gaze and then gave Rod a half-smile. “We may both wish that Four-Dork would drop off the face of the Earth, but it’s not happening. Sorry, mate, but until Liam comes to his senses, we have to put up with Four-Dork being with him.”

Rod nodded slowly. He continued to stare as Doug walked off. Rod knew that Doug had the same wish as he did, but Doug was constrained by promises he’d made to his best friend. They both wanted Liam back in the group, and that meant getting rid of Neil. Doug wasn’t able to do anything, but he’d given Rod enough hints for Rod to know that there would be no objections if he managed to make Liam and Neil split up. Rod knew what he had to do. He just needed to work out how.

* * *

“So, what did you girls get up to during the school holidays?” Liam was sitting between Neil and Evelyn, with Clarissa and Mary opposite.

“Not a lot.” Mary shrugged. “Our major family holiday is the break after the end of first term. It was largely just vegetating and getting out of the house as much as possible.”

Evelyn grinned. “Seeing that hunky footballer you scored would’ve kept you out of the house for most of the two weeks, I’d say.”

Mary winced. “Actually, we’re no longer going out. Jarrod is a nice guy, but we didn’t see eye-to-eye on a few things and decided we’d stay as just friends.”

“Does that mean what you said, or does that mean you’ve gone your separate ways?” Neil asked. When Evelyn jabbed him in the side with her elbow and Clarissa glared, Neil scowled. “What was that for?”

“You don’t ask questions like that!” Evelyn glared at Neil and then gave Mary an apologetic look.

“Leave him alone.” Mary gave Evelyn a hard stare and then smiled at Neil. “It means we’ve gone our separate ways but with no blame being placed on anyone. It was just one of those things that didn’t work out. We might see each other again, but it won’t be on a date.”

Neil grimaced and dropped his eyes. His face was red.

Liam gave Neil’s hand a squeeze of support. “It’s okay, Neil. You’re not to blame for…er…” He grimaced as he tried to think of a polite way to mention Neil’s deficit in social skills and failed. “I’m more at fault than anyone else here. Don’t worry about it.”

“So, your footballer is available again?” Evelyn asked Mary.

Liam leant over and whispered loudly to Neil. “Your turn to give her an elbow in the ribs for asking questions she’s not supposed to ask.”

Clarissa and Mary laughed, while Evelyn tried to look innocent, an attempt that was spoiled by the short chuckle that escaped her lips.

“Yes, Jarrod’s still single. At least he was at the start of last week. But I’m not sure he’s a good fit for you, either,” Mary said. “He’s a nice guy—sweet, even, at times—but he’s very much football focused.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Evelyn said. “I don’t mind football.”

“As the topic of almost every conversation?” Mary shook her head. “I’m being unfair to him. We just didn’t have enough in common, that’s all. Anytime we ran out things to talk about on something we shared, he’d talk football. After a while, that got too much for me. He understood, which is why we agreed it wasn’t working out.”

“What about you, Evelyn?” Liam asked. “What did you get up during the break?”

“Not a lot.” Evelyn shrugged. “My parents took us up to the snow fields for a few days, but the weather wasn’t great. Even so, the slopes were packed, and we spent more time freezing our butts off in the queue for the ski lift than actually having fun. What snowboarding we did was great, but it wasn’t enough. There was this one guy, though…”

* * *

Patrick looked up as the Carlton national-recruiting manager entered his office and closed the door. “Afternoon, Shane.”

“G’day, Paddy. I hear you’ve been busy.” Shane dropped into the spare chair.

Patrick’s momentary pause before responding was barely noticeable. As he spoke, he checked Shane’s expression and body language for signs of a problem but didn’t find any. “I have. I presume you’re talking about my little visit yesterday?”

Shane snorted. “When you show up out of the blue in Lilydale and then sit with a bunch of Leopards supporters, it gets noticed. You’re a fixture in this club, Paddy, and you shocked a lot of people with your actions.” Shane’s grin changed to a frown. “It was a big risk. You might’ve brought more attention onto Flanders than we want.”

“True. To be honest, I expected him to be playing and that I would be sitting with some of the Northern Blues members, cheering on our boys. I didn’t realise he was still suspended, but when he invited me to sit with him, I couldn’t refuse.” Patrick smiled. “It was worth it, though. I’ve got another couple of names for your recruiters to have a closer look at. I’ve spent part of this morning reviewing old footage to make sure what I saw wasn’t a one-off. I’m pleased to say it doesn’t look like it.”

“More names?” Shane shook his head. “We’re trying to reduce the number of people on our prospects list, not add to them.”

“You want the best players on that list of yours. You can’t have that if you don’t consider the late-bloomers.” Patrick shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure if we’ll take either one. They’re both good, but not brilliant, and they’re not in positions that are a priority for us.”

Shane sighed and gave Patrick a long-suffering look. “Who are they?”

“Deon Bradshaw. Currently leading the goal-kicking table in the VFL. Not bad for an eighteen-year-old in his first year in the VFL. I reviewed his games from last year, and there’s been a massive improvement. He looked borderline draftable last year, but now I’d consider him a definite. He’s not tall enough to be normally considered for a key forward position, but his skills and strength make up for his lack of height.”

“I think you’ve brought him up before.” Shane pursed his lips as he thought. “I’ll have to check why we cut him from our list.”

“No need. I looked it up earlier. You discounted him because he wasn’t accurate enough and wasn’t tall enough. He’s accurate now, and he’s shown his lack of height, relatively speaking, isn’t hurting his game. Take another look at him, Shane, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.” Shane grinned. “I’ll add him to the myriad of other players we’re trying to keep an eye on. Who’s the second guy you noticed?”

“Dave Islington. He’s an older midfielder, which is why I don’t think we’ll take him, but he’s solid and effective. He’s almost as good as some of our midfielders, and with the right help, it won’t take him long to be a better than average AFL player in that position.”

“How old?”

“By the time the draft comes around, he’ll be twenty-four.” Patrick shrugged. “That’s when an AFL player is hitting his peak, but I don’t think it’ll take him long to catch up. I’ll admit that he’s a wildcard, given his age, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t alert you to what he’s doing.”

Shane nodded his acknowledgement. “Anything else?”

“I know it was originally a ruse we were using, but the Henderson kid is developing nicely. I’d rate Islington as above him as a midfielder, but there’s not much in it, and Henderson is three years younger.” Patrick shrugged. “His boyfriend was blunt. He said not to take him unless we can give him the support he’ll need as the first gay AFL player. But if we do take him, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“We’re fine with midfielders at the moment, though extra depth never hurts unless it’s at the expense of other positions.” Shane chuckled. “Balancing the player list within both the salary cap and maximum numbers means we never have enough of everything, but you know that.” He cocked his head. “Is that it?”

“Apart from confirmation from his teammates that Flanders has the tenacity needed to succeed and a strong hint that he’s gained the loyalty of a quite a few people in his club, no, not much.”

“You were asking his teammates about him?” Shane scowled. “That could backfire, big time.”

“Relax.” Patrick smiled. “It was in the context of young Flanders pushing the case for his mentor, the Henderson kid. He was being heavy-handed with the praise, and when he was gone for a while, I was told he was like that whenever he has a goal to aim for. Ten bucks says I’ll get the same reaction from him if we hint that young Bradshaw is also a draft prospect.”

Shane stared for a moment and then laughed. “No bet, Paddy. I’m not that stupid.”

Patrick grinned. “Just for your information, Bradshaw and Henderson are housemates with Flanders. If you do it right, you could probably pump both of them for information about him in the guise of making enquires about their draft possibilities. You know the sort of thing: wanting to know how they get along with other teammates, et cetera.”

Shane frowned. “Why are you suggesting that? You’ve already blackmailed me into saying I’ll draft him.”

“Because you said you wanted to do your due diligence.” Patrick smiled. “And because I’m not afraid of what you’ll find out. The more you know, the more you’ll realise I’m not blackmailing you. I’m just ensuring you make the decision that’s best for our club.”

Shane grinned. “I think I’ll pass, you old Irish dog. There’s too much risk one of the other AFL teams will work out what we’re doing.” He stood up. “I’ll get someone to check out Bradshaw and Islington, though. There’s still plenty of time between now and draft day. Who knows what’ll happen or what sort of player we’ll need?”

* * *

Neil was walking towards his locker at the end of the day when his arm was grabbed. Startled, he looked across as he tried to free himself. The surprise at seeing Rod scowling at him was enough of a distraction to allow Rod to drag him into a nearby empty classroom.

“Wh…what do you want?” Neil swallowed, as his dormant alarm stirred into action. He had been sure that the days of being bullied by Liam’s friends were over, but Rod’s demeanour indicated otherwise.

Rod kicked the classroom door closed and then pushed Neil towards one of the desks. “Sit.”

Neil did as he was told, his eyes never leaving Rod. He wanted to be prepared if Rod attacked. With the regular workouts he’d been having at the football club, he thought he might be able to give Rod enough of a surprise to create an opening to escape. He had no illusions that he was capable of standing up to Rod in a fight.

“Liam’s birthday is in two weeks. Doug and I have been discussing it, and you’re going to give him the best possible birthday present.”

Neil gulped at the unexpected direction of the conversation. He thought Liam had made sure Doug wouldn’t pressure him into having sex.

Rod leant forward, an angry scowl on his face. “Liam hasn’t been the same since he found out you’re gay, and he’s gotten worse since he started dating you. Doug and I want the old Liam back. That means you’re going to break up with him. You’ve got two weeks to do it. If you don’t break up with Liam by then, something else is going to get broken.”

Neil stared, wide-eyed. The sudden change in subject from what he had been anticipating had thrown him off balance. “But…”

Rod stepped back and glared down at Neil. “I don’t care what the fuck Liam says. Doug and I both know he’s better off without you, Four-Dork, but since you seem to have him under some sort of spell, you’re the one who’s going to have to fix it.” A malicious smile appeared on Rod’s face. “Or we fix you. Got it?”

Neil swallowed again and then nodded his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He wasn’t sure he could.

“Good.” Rod raised a finger in warning. “Remember, you’ve got until Liam’s birthday. He might not think it at the time, but you’re going to give him the best present he’s ever had: his freedom from you.”

Neil sat there for a couple of minutes after Rod left the room. Once his heart rate had slowed down, he dragged himself to his feet. He needed some time to think about what had just happened. Until then, Neil knew he couldn’t tell anyone, or Rod and Doug may start the breaking process early.

* * *

“You’re looking good, Roger!” Ryan called out as the team captain ran another lap while everyone else trained.

“Don’t jinx me!” Roger grinned and raised a hand in acknowledgement as he continued on his way around the edge of the floodlit football oval.

“Do you think he’ll be fine to play this week?” Jarrod asked.

Ryan shrugged. “Jackie indicated it was unlikely, but Roger’s been working hard. We’ll know on Friday when he does a fitness test.”

“I hope he passes. It’s not that long until the finals, and we want him back and ready before then.”

“Five games. If he’s not ready this week, he should be by the next time we play. That’ll give him four weeks to regain match fitness before we hit the critical part of the season.” Ryan didn’t bother to point out that with their last bye the following week, if Roger wasn’t fit by the weekend—a long shot, from what he’d heard—the Leopards captain would have another two weeks to get ready, which should be more than enough time unless he reinjured himself.

“Jarrod, Ryan, get your minds back on the drill!” Julie’s acidic tone told them that she was seriously annoyed.

Ryan waited until Julie’s attention was elsewhere before grinning at Jarrod. “We’d better get to work and look our best. I heard a rumour that there would be some special guests watching training this week—and probably our games for the rest of the season.”

Jarrod gave him a quizzical look. “Who?”

Ryan waited until they had run through their practise drill before responding. “There are supposed to be some AFL scouts checking us out. We’re having a lot better season than any of them expected, and they’re keeping an eye how we’re doing. I was told to expect them to start approaching players any time now.”

“Wasn’t there one watching Dad earlier in the season?”

“There was. It seems he’s not the only one they’re interested in.” Ryan shrugged. “At least that’s what I heard. Who knows until they approach someone?”

* * *

“Over here, Deon. I need a word with you.” Peter waited as Deon peeled off from the group heading to the change room at the end of training.

“What did you want to talk about?” Deon asked.

“Did you get an email today about your football?” Peter watched carefully for a reaction. He was pleased when Deon grinned and made no attempt to be evasive.

“Yeah, I did. Alastair said he’d sent the club an email to let you know he wanted to talk to me.” Deon’s grin disappeared. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at the moment, and certainly not for you, but I wanted to know how you would like us to handle this.” Peter kept the smile from his face as he tested his young forward. “Some of your teammates may become jealous.”

Deon cringed. “I don’t want that. Do you think I should tell him to go away? I said I’d meet him tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s fine, but what do you think it means, and how do think your teammates will react?”

“I don’t know…” Deon frowned. “Everyone was positive for Dad when he was invited to Carlton. Surely, they’ll be the same for me?”

“Probably, but it depends on how you go about it.” Peter cocked his head. “What are you going to say to people who ask?”

Deon stared for a moment and then grimaced. “Can I pass on answering that? I think I need to ask Dad for some advice unless you’re willing to give me some.”

Peter finally allowed the smile to appear on his face. “My advice is simple. Don’t boast, but be proud of what you’ve achieved so far. Whether that gets you to the AFL is not something any of us have any control over, and you shouldn’t act like it’s going to happen. Continue to concentrate on what you’re good at, which is being a solid forward and a great Leopard. Don’t let this distract you. If you can manage that, I’ll be happy.” Peter’s smile widened into a grin. “And congratulations. I’ve heard some good things about McCrae Sports Management, so if you decide you want to sign with them, then I think that’s a good move. There may be better agents, but McCrae are certainly decent and hardworking.”

Deon grinned back. “So you’re okay with this?”

“As long as you put the Leopards ahead of other things for the rest of the season, I don’t have a problem.” Peter raised a finger in warning. “If you start to act like you’re better than everyone else, you’ll get taken down a notch or two.”

Deon nodded. “Gotcha.” He smiled. “It’s like the brat keeps saying: it’s the team that’s important, not the individual players.”

Peter smiled and waved a hand to dismiss his player. “Then I think we’re done. Go have a shower.”

While the players showered and changed, Peter held a short meeting with his assistant coaches. He then retired to his office and started to review the details of the Collingwood players he was expecting to play on the weekend. There was always a degree of uncertainty with the affiliated teams as there wasn’t always advance notice of which AFL-listed players would be playing in the VFL. Sometimes it was obvious, such as those returning from injury or a long suspension, but an AFL player being dropped back to the VFL for poor performance could occur at short notice.

Before he was half way through the list, Roger and Ty were at the door, ready for their weekly leadership meeting.

Peter pushed his keyboard to one side. “Do you guys have anything you want to go over?”

Roger made a face. “I’ve heard the guys talking about finals. I’m concerned it might be too early. There’s still six weeks to go.”

“Possibly, but I won’t have a problem as long as they use the talk to focus and don’t try to coast.” Peter caught Ty’s eye. “We’re currently fourth, equal on points with the second-place team, but we’ve still got a couple of tough matches to come. We should make the final eight unless a disaster hits, but I want the advantage of a top-four finish, and that’s a long way from being certain. One or two losses could see us drop down the ladder quickly.”

Ty nodded. “Got it. If we’re talking finals, it’ll be about expectations of what we have to do, not relaxing after what we’ve already done.”

Roger grinned and gave Ty a slap on the back. “Exactly right, brat.” He turned back to Peter. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but I wanted you to know.” Roger chuckled. “If you need to, have Julie ride herd on anyone slacking off. I don’t think there’s anyone in the team, including me, who wants to experience her disapproval.”

Peter snorted. “You don’t think I could do that myself? You’re making me sound like a big softie.” He smiled. “I’ll save Julie for emergencies. There’s no need to use a nuke when a sledgehammer will do the job. Anything else?”

Roger and Ty exchanged glances. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, I’ve got one for both of you. The AFL is going to start interfering with us again. The team handled Dad’s involvement with Carlton well, so I’m not expecting any problems, but this is a heads up that there’s more interest in the team.”

Ty leant forward, his expression eager. “Who are they looking at?”

“The one definite I know of is Deon. Not only have I been told he’s been approached by an agent, but I’ve had indications that the Melbourne Demons will be contacting him sometime in the next couple of weeks to have a chat. I’m expecting scouts to reappear at our games and some training sessions. Indeed, there was one here tonight.”

Peter spotted Ty’s initial disappointment, but he was pleased when Ty then grinned. “Can I tell him about the Demons?”

“Give him a chance to tell you. There’s no need to let him know that I’ve already mentioned it.” Peter turned to Roger. “Any comments?”

“This close to the finals, having the AFL scouts hanging around could be a distraction. How do you want us to handle it?”

“The usual. Everyone is a Leopard first. We’ll work together to allow everyone to shine, but if anyone is caught playing for themselves and not the team, they’ll be benched.” Peter smiled. “I don’t think there will be any serious issues, but you’re right that it’ll be a distraction. It might take the edge off a few players as they worry about how they look on the oval. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do except try to keep everyone focused on the here-and-now and not the distant future.”

Ty grimaced. “The distant future may not happen. I know that. We’re a good chance for the finals, and that’s what we need to concentrate on.” He glanced at his captain before turning his attention back to Peter. “Any word whether Roger is going to play against Collingwood?”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Roger, silently asking him to answer the question.

“Jackie’s not happy with the strength of my leg muscles yet. After not using them fully for several weeks, they’re still too weak to stand up to the stress of a game. I’m working my way back, but I’m not going to play before Jackie says it’s okay. I might sit on the interchange bench, just in case, but not if there’s a risk that I could reinjure myself.” Roger smiled. “My focus is on the end of the season, not the next game. It’s been three years since the Leopards made the finals, and I want to be there when they do it again. I’m not going to jeopardise that by rushing my recovery.”

Ty nodded. “Fair enough.” He grinned. “More chances for Deon to shine without you, then.”

Roger chuckled. “You can tell Deon from me that if he tries to slacken off when I return, I’ll kick him from one end of the ground to the other. We want him to continue to play the way he’s been doing. We’ll struggle in the finals if he doesn’t.”

“The same goes for you, brat.” Peter waited until he had Ty’s attention. “This week is your first game back from suspension. I want to make it clear that you don’t have to prove anything. If you’re not playing at your best, don’t panic. As Roger has indicated, there’s only one game you need to worry about, and that’s the last one of the season, which we want to be the grand final, and we want to win it. Every other game is just preparation for that event.”

Ty’s face ran through various expressions before settling on one of determination. “Thanks, Peter. I’ll admit that I’m nervous about this coming weekend. After three weeks without playing, I’m concerned I’ll be rusty.”

“You might be, but don’t worry about it. Play through it, and leave it to me to deal with the consequences.” Peter paused to see if his captain and vice-captain had anything else to say. When it was apparent that they didn’t, he nodded his head to dismiss them. “Thanks, guys. Remember, we need to keep everyone’s attention on the now—and on the end of the season. Don’t let other things take our focus off the goal of winning the grand final.”

A couple of minutes later, Peter was alone in his office. He turned to his computer and brought up the draft email he had composed earlier in the day. He grimaced. “Practise what you preach, Peter.”

After another moment of hesitation, he clicked send and then forced himself back to his original task of reviewing the player matchups for the game against Collingwood.

The job application for an assistant coaching position with the Western Bulldogs was on its way. It was time to push aside his own dream of the AFL and focus on the Leopards.

* * *

“Great meal, Neil.” Oliver gave the young man a thumbs-up before taking another bite of the steak. “A nice, rich gravy. Well done.”

Paul grinned at Neil. “That’s high praise. I don’t think Ollie’s ever said that about my cooking.”

“That’s because you don’t try. Barbecues and grilled meat are your forte, and that’s not exciting. Neil’s at least tried to stretch himself into something more complicated.”

Todd ignored the banter between Paul and Oliver as he kept a surreptitious eye on Neil. When Neil had said he didn’t want to go to training with them, he had used the excuse of cooking dinner while they were out, but Todd couldn’t help notice that most of the cooking had been done when they returned. He also noticed that Neil didn’t seem to be interacting with his housemates as much as he would usually do. Todd suspected that Oliver had spotted the same thing, as his compliment on the cooking didn’t seem warranted based on Oliver’s standards for food.

At the end of the meal, when Neil had left the table to start the cleanup, Paul caught his eye and tilted his head towards Neil. Todd knew then that both of his teammates were concerned. Todd stepped up to where Neil was packing the plates in the dishwasher. “Leave that, mate. Paul and Ollie will clean up. You can have the night off.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” Oliver winked at Neil. “I’ll use the opportunity to try…again…to teach Paul some of the finer points of good cooking.”

Todd thought that was overdoing it, but Neil didn’t seem to notice. The young man stood up, not making eye contact with anyone. “Thanks, guys. I’ll start on my homework.”

Once Neil was out of the room, Paul and Oliver turned to Todd.

“Any idea what’s wrong with him?” Paul asked.

“None.” Todd grimaced. “Did either of you notice anything when he got home from school?”

“He was quiet then, too, but I didn’t realise it at the time.” Oliver shrugged. “He’s not usually loud, so it’s only in hindsight that I’ve realised that he wasn’t as chirpy as normal.”

“Do you think it’s something to do with his parents?” Paul asked. “They’ve got his phone number now; they may’ve said something that’s upset him.”

“Or it might be boyfriend problems,” Oliver said.

“Only one way to find out. I’ll go talk to him and see if he’ll tell me.” Todd pulled a face. “I’m not sure what to do if he doesn’t.”

“Cross that bridge when you come to it,” Oliver said. “He’s generally pretty good with letting you know what’s going on.” He smiled. “Go. We’ll look after things here.”

Todd headed down the hallway and paused outside the bedroom he shared with Neil. The fact that Neil was still inside confirmed to him that there was problem; Neil typically did his homework on the kitchen table. After a moment of internal debate, he knocked on the door rather than entering unannounced. “Can I come in?”

When there was a muffled response that he couldn’t work out if it was positive or negative, Todd opened the door. Neil was on the bed, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. Neil’s eyes flicked towards Todd for a moment before returning to the ceiling.

Todd moved over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Neil grimaced.

Todd waited a moment and then reached out and put a hand on Neil’s shoulder. He squeezed once to indicate his support and then let go. “If you want to tell me, I’m here whenever you want.”

“Do you think…?” Neil growled for a moment and then looked at Todd. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Fill me in, and maybe I can help.” Todd smiled as Neil rolled over and shuffled around so the two were sitting side-by-side. That smile faded as Neil proceeded to tell Todd about the incident with Rod at the end of school.

“…and then Rod left the room.” Neil scowled down at the floor. “Liam’s my boyfriend, but Doug’s his best friend, and Rod is mates with both of them. If I tell Liam, what will happen? Will he side with me or with Doug and Rod? Do I want to put him in the position of having to choose?”

Todd gathered his thoughts before responding. “Neil, what Rod’s doing is wrong, plain and simple. If he really feels that way, he should be telling Liam, not you, and the fact he’s not makes him a coward. I appreciate that you don’t want to get between Liam and his friends, but they’re not great friends if they feel they can dictate to Liam who he’s allowed to date. Whether anything happens between you and Liam is up to the two of you, not Rod and Doug.”

Neil scowled. “But Liam will hate me if I push myself between him and his friends. I’ll be doing the same thing that Rod’s doing, and I don’t want to do that.”

Todd shook his head. “It’s not the same. You won’t be getting between Doug, Rod, and Liam. You’ll be telling Liam that Rod and Doug are trying to get between you and him. That’s the difference.”

“Maybe Liam will be better off if I do what Rod and Doug want…”

Todd reacted to the depressed tone by pulling Neil into a hug. “I think you should let Liam be involved in that decision. Unless you don’t really want to be with him, he’s got a say in this, too.”

Neil rested his head on Todd’s chest. “I’m so confused.”

Todd sighed. “Relationships can get complicated, Neil. I appreciate you don’t want Liam to choose between you and his friends, but his friends are the ones who are forcing the decision. All you’ll be doing is letting Liam get involved in that decision. Give him a chance. If he does what the other guys want, he was never the right one for you. If he doesn’t…” Todd released Neil. He reached over, put a hand under Neil’s chin, and gently raised his friend’s head so he could look him in the eye. “Remember, you’re not the one doing this. If you want a long-term relationship with Liam, you’ll have to trust him.”

Neil screwed up his face. “I know, but…”

Todd smiled and then stood up. “If you want to talk more, let me know. But I suspect I’ve given you enough to think about for now.”

Neil nodded. “Thanks, Todd.” Neil rolled onto his back, placed his hands behind his head, and resumed his contemplation of the ceiling. “I still don’t know what to do, but I’m glad I told you.”

Disclaimer: Some public figures have been included in this story for effect. This is fiction, and the words and actions of those characters are mine and not those of the real person. All other individuals depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.

I would like to thank trebs, C James and MikeL for the advice they gave on early versions and rec for editing this story for me. A special thank you to ricky for that crucial final review before publication.

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