So Much to Learn (34 page)

She was dressed
fairly similarly to me although she had made her jersey more funky
and feminine with a jagged neckline, shorter hemline, and even some
sparkly rhinestones. She loved to spice up normal outfits and had
offered to do the same to my jersey, but I was just happy with it
looking a little less sack like. I was glad to see that, like every
match day, her eyes immediately went to the long sleeves on my
jersey, the cuffs of which drooped down over my hands. Every time
she asked whether she could take them up a little bit but every
time I refused pointing out that I liked not having a need for
gloves when I was wearing it.

I waited for
her to begin her usual spiel, but obviously she wasn't feeling 100
percent herself as her eyes slid away from my cuffs and she didn't
raise any comment. Disappointed that she was obviously still
severely hung up about something I just managed to repress a long
sigh and instead pasted a brilliant smile on my lips.

"So are you
ready to go?" I asked, pretty inanely considering she was the one
who had come to pick me up and, therefore, she should have been the
one asking me that question. Still, conversation seemed to be a
little beyond her so I picked up the slack.

We headed out
of the flat and down the stairs together and I was on my way out
into the car park when I realised that Simone had stopped. Turning
around I saw her knocking on Haley's door and my heart plummeted as
I remembered that we usually took Haley with us to the games.

Haley appeared
in her doorway a moment later and I couldn't help but notice that,
although she had worn blue and green as a nod to the day's
activities, there was not a jersey or supporter scarf to be seen.
Well, I thought with some satisfaction, she wasn't going to win
over any of the boys dressed like that!

Obviously
noticing my scrutiny of her Haley smiled awkwardly and gave a silly
little wave, saying softly, "Hi, Natalia."

She was nervous
about my reaction to her. Good and so she should be, I was one tiny
piece of restraint away from slapping that perfectly made up face
of hers. Grunting by way of greeting and sounding just like one of
the boys, I turned and exited the building, heading for Simone's
car. As I drew nearer I saw that there was someone already sitting
in it and, tipping my head so I could see better through the
window, I realised it was Alex.

Momentarily
forgetting that Alex was still going through the 'I hate
everything' stage I asked him if he was looking forward to the game
and got a very predictable, "Whatever." In return.

Rolling my eyes
I opened up one of the back doors and threw myself into the
backseat getting the feeling that, what with Simone down in the
dumps, Alex in an adolescent sulk and Haley being her usual self,
it was going to be a very long afternoon.

The oval at
Grove University is situated right down the end of campus and,
although there were no stands to sit in, the edges of the oval
sloped upwards forming a natural seating area. We situated
ourselves directly opposite the centre square, so that we were
equal distance from the goals, and right up the front so we could
clearly see the action.

As I had
expected, the grass was still wet from the rain from the day before
but as us girls had been going to the games for the last two years
we had all brought our plastic bags and Simone had even remembered
to bring a spare one for Alex. Not that he was particularly
grateful for it. The way he was going he was lucky if I didn't use
his plastic bag to suffocate him by half time.

We were there
about half an hour before the game was due to start and so we
amused ourselves by talking to the people around us and glaring at
the opposition as they lapped the oval in their warm-up.

Although from
the outside it would have looked as if everything was normal
between the four of us, there was a strange little undercurrent
zinging about. Basically there was very little conversation but
plenty of significant looks. Haley kept trying to catch my eye and
when, through my lapse of concentration, she did she would smile
apologetically, clearly trying to garner my forgiveness. I, on the
other hand, was trying to catch Simone's eye and make sure she was
alright but she, as I was doing with Haley, was steadfastly
avoiding my gaze and I kept catching Alex's eye instead. For some
reason he seemed displeased with me as well, it was difficult to
tell because he was displeased with everything, but I think he was
reserving an extra special look of annoyance just for me. What a
lucky girl I am!

All things
considered I was pretty glad when the umpire came forward to start
the game. Jack came forward to take the clearance, Micky was in the
opposition's 50, Tommo was positioned in the Grover goal square,
and Matt and Samsa loitered around the sides of the centre circle
with the rest of the team spread around them across the oval. The
opposition were almost bottom of the ladder and there were no
doubts as to who was going to win. The only thing up for dispute
was how much the Grovers were going to shellac them by.

As the ground
was still pretty water-logged, the umpire threw the ball up to
start the game and Jack and his opposition leapt forward at the
same moment. Jack's arms were longer and so he was able to smash
the footy to Matt in the single fluid movement they had perfected
over years of playing. Jack took off running and, without looking
back, Matt handballed to him knowing that he would be there. It was
like their breakfast morning routine, all instinct, all trust in
each other and it was really something to watch. As Matt shepherded
the opposition to keep them from getting a tackle in, Jack flew
down the centre corridor, bouncing the footy twice before kicking
it precisely to Tommo who took a sensational mark about 30 metres
out from the goal posts.

I cheered
loudly along with the other Grovers supporters knowing that, from
such a short distance directly in front, Tommo was not going to
miss. And sure enough he kicked the ball straight through the
middle of the two taller posts. A goal in three possessions? The
other team was screwed!

The first
quarter continued pretty much along this same vein until moments
before the quarter siren rang when some tricky midfield work by the
opposition meant the ball was kicked into their forward 50 for the
first time. The ball was headed for a one-on-one and shouldn't have
been a real threat but Micky, the person assigned to the other
side's best forward, didn't seem to be paying attention and the
footy was suddenly intercepted and, in the blink of an eye, a goal
was scored for the opposition.

This wasn't a
total disaster considering the Rovers were 32 points up at quarter
time, but it caused more than a few raised eyebrows as it was so
unlike Micky to come off his assigned man. I knew everybody was
thinking the same thing: 'Where was Micky's head at?'

The siren rang
and the boys jogged across the oval to huddle together to discuss
tactics for the second quarter and to receive instructions from
Sam. I could see that Sam paid particular attention to Micky,
talking at him steadily for several minutes while the others
swigged from their water bottles.

Unfortunately,
whatever Sam said to his twin didn't seem to have made an impact
because it was only two minutes into the second quarter before the
same guy that Micky was supposed to be preventing from scoring took
an easy mark and went on to kick a goal seconds later.

And on it went,
the Rovers were able for the most part to keep the flow of play
going towards their forward, but every time the ball went the
opposite way Micky's man would inevitably take advantage of it. The
Rover's crowd was beside itself and I just about screamed myself
hoarse telling Micky to pay attention.

After about 20
minutes of this I saw Sam take the opportunity of down time due to
an injury incurred by the other team to jog towards his brother and
knew that, for I think the first time I've ever seen, he was going
to order Micky off the ground because of poor play rather than for
the blood rule or a rest.

Micky came
forward to meet Sam right in front of where we were sitting and I
knew immediately that the shit was really going to hit the fan. I
looked instinctively for Matt and Jack and saw that they had
positioned themselves nearby, but weren't going to act unless
absolutely necessary. This was Sam's territory and when the game
was on he was their captain above all other things.

As the twins
came face to face and the tension rose several notches Simone
suddenly grabbed my hand and, when I looked at her, I saw that she
was even whiter than usual. I looked around and saw that, although
many in the crowd were looking excited at a bit of drama, Alex
looked uneasy and had stood up as if, like Jack and Matt, he was
getting ready to leap in if needed. Haley also looked terribly
uncomfortable and like she would rather have been anywhere else in
the world at that moment.

"You're off,"
Sam said flatly, his voice carrying clearly over to us as we were
not more than eight metres away.

"I'm what?"
Micky said angrily, sticking his face right up close to his
brother's. When Sam remained impassive he snorted in disgust and
turned away, "No, rack off."

I knew that Sam
wouldn't let him get away with that and, sure enough, he grabbed
his twin's shoulder and yanked him back before he had had the
chance to go very far. "I'm your captain," Sam said, his face a
mask of coldness, "and if I say you're off then you're off."

Michael took a fistful of Sam's jersey and gave him a little
shake as he replied, "I don't think you heard me,
captain
, I said
no."

At this my
brother took a short step forward. "Hey, come on now, Micky-" Matt
began, obviously upset by this outright admission of mutiny, but
Micky shot him a death glare and snapped,

"And you can
piss off and all, this isn't anything to do with you."

"Doesn't seem
like it's anything to do with the game either," Jack interjected
sharply, always on the alert to jump to Matt's defence."

"Yeah," Matt
agreed, with a quick glance across at Jack, "and, considering we're
in the middle of one, can't whatever the two of you have going on
wait for a while?"

My brother,
ladies and gentlemen, staunch protector of Aussie rules football
regardless of the situation.

"I'm the
captain," Sam repeated, his eyes boring into Micky's and not
seeming to have even noticed that Jack and Matt had spoken, "and so
when I tell you to stay on your man, you stay on your man. And,
when you screw up and I tell you to get off my oval, you get off my
bloody oval." He wrenched Micky's hand off his jersey and shoved
him backwards. "Now," he said, his voice loaded with authority,
"brother or not, if you're not on the bench in 10 seconds I'm
dropping you from the team, not just for today, but for good."

For a moment
Micky looked stunned and I knew that if anything would break the
hearts of any of the five boys it would be not playing their
beloved game, Sam had brought out the big guns with that threat.
Everyone was frozen for a moment and then a strange expression
stole across Micky's face and I felt the hairs rise along my arms
as he stepped up to Sam again.

"Oh, I get it,"
he said and, out of the corner of my eye I saw Alex shake his head
then jog across the boundary line to join up with Tommo in keeping
back the others on the oval who had run over to see what the holdup
was. "This hasn't got anything to do with me coming off my mark,"
Micky continued, his voice low and dangerous, "this has got to do
with you and your little secret. What, you think having me off the
team will make it harder for me to tell everyone what's going on
with you? Hell, I could tell them right now."

At this point
Simone jumped up and shouted, "Micky don't!"

He glanced over
at her and, in that moment of inattention, Sam lunged at him. Jack,
and Matt rushed forward, but it was too late as the twins were
locked together in a tussle that no mere mortal could ever hope to
separate.

I stood up as
well and held Simone's hand tightly, watching the twins wrestle
each other onto the ground and feeling overwhelmingly useless. I
caught Jack's eye and mouthed, 'What's going on?' But, as with the
other day, he had no answers for me.

"Can't they do
something?" Simone gasped, her eyes focused intently on the warring
twins.

I was just
about to ask 'Like what exactly?' when Sam seemed to get the upper
hand in the fight and flattened his brother against the grass,
sitting on his chest and holding his arms which Micky continued to
thrash wildly.

"You're my
brother," Sam panted, his face red and his jersey torn. "Before all
that other bull you're supposed to be my brother!"

"What about you?" Micky howled, still struggling furiously.
"What about you being a brother to me? Why did you have to screw
everything up? Why does
everything
always end up so shit?"

For the
briefest of moments I felt a flash of sympathy for Micky, he
sounded just like a confused little kid and I got the feeling that
whatever was going on with Sam was just another in a long line of
disappointments life had afforded him. His brother, however, seemed
to harbour no such sympathetic feelings.

"Oh poor you,"
he exclaimed sarcastically. "Do you think perhaps some things end
up the way they do because of you and your damn attitude? I can't
help what's happened, but you and your constant bitching haven't
helped any and I'm sick of it."

Micky looked up
at him in some surprise and Samsa nodded emphatically. "Yeah,
that's right, I'm fed up with you lashing out at everybody around
you if things don't go exactly as you want them to. I mean what has
Talia ever done to you? Really, when you think about it can you
pinpoint a single moment when she has honestly, maliciously worked
against you?"