Kick Back

by K J

  And right then, Sophia knew exactly what was going on. Oh, hell no. She lifted her head to stare down the field. Fitz was in charge of on-field changes of position, but right then Fitz was in the thick of things. Crap. The teenager took off across the grass, as Erica began stretching at the sidelines. The ball suddenly appeared in front of Sophia, handballed to her by Nat, and she instinctively caught it, and ran forward, only to be heavily tackled by Kelly, her arms wrapped around Sophia’s torso like an octopus. Fortunately, Sophia still had her arms free, so, in mid-air, mid-spin, she was able to drop the ball as her foot came around, and kick it ahead before being slammed into the grass, Kelly’s weight ensuring she added extra dirt stains to her cheek. Sophia heaved Kelly off, then spun back in one motion to see Mel’s face register confusion, and disappointment, then her shoulders slumped as the teenage runner delivered the instruction. With her head down, Mel trotted after him to make the change. Nope. Stuff that. Kelly, standing not even two metres away, looked on in astonishment as Sophia raced from their position towards the point where she knew she’d intercept Mel. She waved her hand and yelled.

  “Stay on the field!” Mel paused at the sound of Sophia’s voice. “I’m serious. Stay on the field.”

  The runner squeaked as Sophia grabbed the front of his safety vest, and hauled him to the boundary. She was very careful not to cross the white-painted line. “I’m coming off, Craig. You’ve only got one substitution left. Take me off.”

  Lawrence stormed up. “Get back out there. You!” He pointed at the runner, then at Mel who’d run back into the action. “Go get that one.”

  Sophia suddenly groaned and bent sideways, clutching the lower half of her left bum cheek. “You have to pull me off, Craig. I’m hurt!” Craig paused, gave her a piercing stare, then twisted his body so he could see Erica.

  “You’re on. Go. Centre forward, and some of the wing. You’re covering Kelly.” Erica sprinted onto the field, giving permission for Sophia to hobble over the line. Lawrence’s eyes shot daggers at Sophia when she looked up.

  She groaned again. “I’m sorry, Lawrence. I wish I wasn’t hurt.” She shook her head. “But I’m really glad you’re so understanding.” She delivered a pained smile, and after another vicious glare, Lawrence stormed off. Sophia waited until he’d left through the on-field gate, before she straightened, and brushed her hands together. “Well, that sucked, but had to be done.”

  Craig’s eyes were round. “What’s your injury? If you’re not hurt, you just pulled off an epic performance, and cost yourself the rest of the game.” Sophia grimaced, and sat heavily on the bench.

  “My injury? A pain in my arse, that’s all. And no, I’m not freaking hurt. But Mel’s out there, playing her guts out, and they wanted to pull her off because Erica looks better in a photo. That’s so wrong. Sure, Erica can go on, but not at the expense of a great player who some fuckwits believe isn’t good enough for the camera.” Sophia ground the studs of her boots into the grass, clenching her hands. “Besides, they’re getting same for same with Erica anyway.” She pointed to her hair, tucked into its game-day ponytail, then flicked her finger at Erica who was thundering past with the ball. Craig grumbled softly, and clamped his hand on her shoulder.

  “You overrode a coaching decision.” Sophia closed her eyes for a second, then lifted her head. Craig’s face wore an inscrutable look, then his eyes flashed with understanding. “Good call."

  The match was a loss, unfortunately, but only by twelve points, which wasn’t so bad considering final scores in the AFL generally reached past fifty points or more. Still, Sophia reminded herself as she trudged off the field with the rest of the team, they needed to sort themselves out soon if they wanted to claim their spot in the final. Lin and Ben were waving at her from outside the boundary fence, and to Sophia’s delight, Cam stood beside them, her curls escaping from underneath a red and white beanie. Sophia’s stomach flip-flopped, as she broke off from the group and wandered over. “Hi. You made it.” She rolled her shoulders, feeling her body stiffening.

  “Yeah. Sorry about the loss.” Ben sucked in his lips. “What happened to you before?” Sophia shrugged.

  “Injury.” She could feel Cam’s gaze on her and it made her skin warm. “I seem to be fine now.” Lin laid her hand over Sophia’s as she held the top railing.

  “Uh huh. Are you coming around tonight?” Sophia nodded, and Lin turned to Cam. “You’re very welcome to come to dinner as well, Cam.”

  “Oh! Uh, thank you, but I’ve got another dinner to go to, actually. My flatmates and I share the cooking and it’s my turn. I’ve already won the ‘Most Pathetic Flatmate’ award, after I forgot last time.” She drew her eyebrows together, which, Sophia decided, was utterly adorable. Will you stop, for God’s sake?

  “So, I better,” Cam hitched a thumb over her shoulder, “get going.” She smiled at Lin. “I loved meeting you, Lin. Thanks for the chat. You,” she pointed at Ben, “need to stop leaping out at people—” Ben grinned— “and,” she turned to Sophia, who was suddenly swept up in an incredibly direct gaze, “you, I will see soon.” Her voice had softened, and they held eye contact for a long focused moment. Sophia blinked, and found Ben grinning wickedly, and Cam walking backwards, then waving, and turning to leave the stadium. Lin took pity on her.

  “Go. Go do your thing, hon. We’ll see you tonight.”

  The shower felt unbelievably good. The hot water sluiced over her hair, and she rocked her head back and forth as it washed away the left-over shampoo. She ran her palm over her chest and stomach, feeling the ridges of muscle and bone under her hand. Sophia was proud of her body. It was something she worked hard to maintain, simply so she didn’t pick up too many injuries and could handle the workload for an entire match. Her body came with other benefits; one being that it had caught Cam’s gaze. Sophia smiled, letting the water wash over her face and into her mouth. Oh yes. Cam had looked at her in appreciation, and she had been very okay with Sophia knowing that as well. Tingles collected in the bottom of her stomach. A communal shower in the change rooms of the South Melbourne Football Club was not the place to do something about yummy tingles. Sophia turned off the faucets. Change. Flo. Home. Dinner. And somewhere in there, a couple of images of Cam’s gaze from the boundary fence. Yum.

  It turned out that there was a delay between steps one and two, because to get to Flo, Sophia had to walk past Lawrence, Dominic and the woman who had caused Fitz to fall over herself before the game, all standing together at a black Mercedes in the carpark. She gave a brief nod and a small smile in the interests of politeness, and corrected her path to create an arc past them.

  “Hey. You there!” Sophia’s hackles rose immediately. She stopped and slowly turned.

  “Me?” She’d recognised Lawrence’s thin voice so she directed her question to him. He pursed his lips.

  “Craig wanted the other girl to come off. Why didn’t you listen to his instruction?” Sophia took in his pinched features, the business suit, then swept her gaze over Dominic, who looked like he’d got dressed in the dark, and the woman in her red heels, skirt, and blazer. They were all expecting an answer.

  “I’m not great at following instructions.” She sighed dramatically. “Particularly instructions that don’t make a whole lot of sense.” She smiled politely. “But it all worked out. Erica got subbed on, anyway.”

  Dominic huffed. “You said you were injured. You look fine now.” He huffed again in annoyance. "You were supposed to stay on as well. The more we have like you on the field, the better for us.” Sophia caught Lawrence’s infinitesimal head shake which he’d directed at Dominic. The more like me what? Sophia let that one slide, and because she really wanted to leave, decided to get on with the last bit of politeness. She stuck out her hand to the woman.

  “Sophia Lindstrom. Centre forward for South Melbourne.” Her hand was enclosed in soft skin, and held for a fraction too long. The woman’s brown eyes, not at all warm like Cam’s, but calculating and interes
ted, scanned Sophia’s face and body.

  “Helena Trenning. Head of Development at Schimmager Pharmaceuticals.” Her voice was smooth, cultured. She released Sophia’s hand and quirked a very sculpted eyebrow. “I haven’t met you yet.”

  Sophia squinted at the odd phrase.

  “Well, you’re meeting me now.”

  Helena ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip, and Sophia shivered. “Yes I am, and it is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Sophia. Tell me. Are you someone that the young players—what do you call them? Rookies? Do they look up to you?” She raised her eyebrow again, her lips curling at the edges. “I certainly would.”

  Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, Sophia shrugged. “I guess.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her little finger catching in the bound-up hair under her serviceable ponytail.

  Helena smiled, her teeth bared, and stepped forward, her heels softly crunching on the gravel, and very effectively blocked the men out of the conversation, although as much as Helena seemed to care, they’d already faded into the background anyway.

  “It might be mutually beneficial for us to catch up for a drink one time.” She reached out to finger Sophia’s collar. “You do drink, don’t you, Sophia?” Helena purred. Sophia’s anxiety spiked and her brain began waving its arms about, bellowing “Danger, Will Robinson!”

  “Ah. Yes, I do, but I’ll have to let you know.” She took a step back. “Nice to meet you. Have a good evening, everyone.” Then, as quickly as she could without looking like a character in an animated movie, Sophia turned and hustled over to Flo. She could feel their gaze even as she steered the moped through the boom gate at the exit.

  ****

  Sophia, sitting cross-legged in the ancient armchair, cradled her bowl and stared at the topping as it flowed down the giant lump of vanilla ice cream, like a chocolate volcano, because yes, she was an eight-year-old and proud of it. She looked up as Lin wandered into the room, picked up her cup of tea, and collapsed into the opposite armchair. Sophia swirled her spoon in the white and brown mess, and scooped up enough to pour into her mouth; the action producing a soft chuckle from Lin. Sophia swallowed and pointed her spoon. “How’s month number four treating you?”

  Lin sighed. “Oh God, don’t start. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to pee when you’re growing a human?” Sophia winced, and a quick glance at Ben across the coffee table showed his face echoing her expression.

  “Nope. I’m going with a lot?”

  “Freaking awful. It’s like pissing razor blades.” Sophia grimaced, and wrinkled her eyebrows in sympathy. Ben shovelled a spoonful of his completely naked ice cream—a dessert atrocity—into his mouth, then waved the spoon at Sophia.

  “Forgot to ask Cam today. How are her articles going?”

  “Good, I guess. I mean, they’re being published, but they’re still fluffy and have nothing to do with football. I get the feeling that she’s not being allowed to write what she wants, which is why she’s writing the other story.”

  Ben dropped his spoon with a clatter into his bowl, and slapped his hand flat onto the top of his head. “Brain freeze.” He waited for it to subside. “The story about all the terrible shit that’s been happening, like today’s sexist crap?”

  “Yep. That. I told her last week that it’s great she’s writing it, but I said I was worried that if it was published it would damage the players’ chances to make it further in their football journey.” She shrugged and spooned another dripping mess into her mouth. Lin and Ben exchanged a look. “What? What was that?” She settled her spoon and waved a finger between the two.

  “You said that to her? In those words?” Ben stared at her.

  Sophia frowned. “Yeah?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Well, at least you were diplomatic.”

  Sophia matched his glare. “What? All I meant was that if she goes in boots and all, then the whole league’ll blow up and there’ll be nothing left.”

  “So, all the shitty things are worth hanging onto, just to keep the league rolling along?” Lin’s quiet voice interjected.

  Sophia paused. “No…”

  “I think you might want to rephrase what you meant. It is her job you’re asking her not to do.” Lin held Sophia’s gaze.

  “Okay.” She scraped at the inside of the bowl, chased around the last spoonful of ice cream and dumped it into her mouth. Lin smiled, and tucked her legs under her body, and settled into the chair.

  “Cam is delightful, by the way. I really like her.”

  Sophia stared into her bowl. “I do, too.”

  Ben snorted. “How much do you like her, Soph?”

  Sophia scowled at him. “What are you, twelve?” Ben grinned. “Fine. We’ve kissed, which was freaking amazing, and then she made me have magical hypnotic nature sex.” Ben’s mouth fell open, and Sophia bared her teeth in a triumphant snarl. “Want me to go on?”

  “Nope.” He shot up, collected his bowl and hers, and disappeared behind the kitchen bench. Lin giggled, and raised her eyebrows.

  “Magical hypnotic nature sex?” she murmured, and Sophia shook her head.

  “Way too hard to explain.” She adjusted her position on the chair. “She’s flirty, Lin. But it’s like there’s a serious undertone to it.”

  “Like she’s saying ‘I’ve got what you want, champ. Come on over but bring everything you have because that’s the only way you’ll get me’?” Lin looked over the top of her cup.

  Sophia pointed at her, eyes wide. “Yes! That! Exactly that. And it sucks because I can’t bring everything I have. I don’t work that way.” Ben’s voice intruded from the kitchen.

  “You realise you’re making yourself deliberately lonely.”

  “Babe.” Lin’s soft admonishment travelled across the room. Sophia clenched her jaw, and blinked rapidly.

  “You know? I just can’t hear that enough. Please say that many times, Ben.” She flicked her eyes towards the kitchen, and her gaze fell on the sheepish face of her brother.

  “Sorry. Sucky thing to say.” He pointed to the sink. “I’m gonna do dishes and shut up.” Sophia turned away and traced the creases in the fabric of her jeans.

  “I can’t do it, Lin. I can’t give everything, because what if she leaves? I can’t get attached because everyone I love deeply leaves eventually, and I know it’s irrational but that’s how my head works.” There was silence so she lifted her head to find Lin regarding her intently.

  “But you do get attached, Soph. Look how attached you are to the shelter kids. I bet they leave sometimes.” Her eyes were black, focused, and Sophia held her gaze as she continued. “You’re attached to your teammates, particularly the younger ones because you’re protective. I bet they leave. You’re attached to Giancarlo and Morrie, and they’ll leave sometime soon.” Sophia inhaled unsteadily, and her eyes prickled. “You’re attached to Ben and I and,” she smoothed her belly, “this one, and much later in life, we’ll leave.” Sophia swallowed, and a couple of tears fell softly down her cheeks. “The only person you haven’t let yourself become attached to is a lover. The person who could take up residence in here.” She touched her chest, and gently pointed her finger at Sophia.

  Massaging the heels of her palms into her eyes, Sophia sighed. “That’s the problem; it’s not for lease.”

  Lin shook her head quickly. “I would hope not. You’re not looking for someone wanting a temporary rental, hon. You're after someone permanent. Even when you think you're not.”

  Sophia inhaled deeply, then stared at the ceiling. “Maybe it’s Cam?” She dropped her gaze.

  Lin tipped her head. “Maybe it’s Cam.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cam disentangled herself from the scarf-jacket-backpack spider’s web she’d created around her body, and dumped the entire mess onto her desk. Twenty minutes before, she’d walked out of the elevator, bringing the crisp late April air with her, straight to Eddie’s office, knowing that he’d be wanting to see her. He seemed to be overly focusse
d on the content of her football stories; more than any other story she’d ever written. However, this time Eddie had praised the last couple she’d submitted, which had just about toppled Cam from her chair in shock. Bianca rolled her head and stared at the jumble of accessories on Cam’s desk.

  “You practising for when you have to wear all your clothes to avoid checking your bag at the airport?” Cam relaxed her chin and eyed Bianca over the top of her glasses.

  “Ha ha. You’re hilarious.”

  “I’m glad someone appreciates my humour.” She shoved her laptop away, the action propelling her chair back from the desk, and then she swivelled around to Cam, crossing her ankle over her knee. Cam dropped into her own chair, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles, the heels of her brown boots digging into the faded carpet squares. She gestured at Bianca’s outfit of dark purple frayed corduroy jeans, black Doc Martens and oversized black cable-knit jumper.

  “Been shopping at the thrift shops again?” Bianca lifted a corner of her mouth and ignored her question.

  “How’s the writing going?”

  “It’s fine. I’m doing what I need to do, and Eddie’s happy. And I’m getting all my other work done so everyone else is happy, too. Happy, happy.”

  Bianca nodded. “Cool.” Then she leaned forward, pinning Cam with a stare. “How’s the real writing going?”

  Cam allowed a small smile to slide onto her lips. “That writing is going really well. I have such good content and I know the Beacon is going to love this story. Talk about social justice and righting all the wrongs.” She pulled her feet in and leaned over her knees, her elbows on her thighs. “Have you seen those stories in the Beacon about the players from the other women’s AFL teams? They’re excellent, so proactive and professional. It grates that mine can’t go in that direction.” She flipped her hand. “That’s the type of journalism I’m doing with this story though.”