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“Ah, yes.” I smirked to myself, thinking back to the countless times down through the years when Ricey had caught us bantering and lost his shit. “That was an enjoyable perk.”
“Could you have pucked the sliotar any further?” Alec panted, jogging back over to us, ball in hand. “I had to climb into the bushes to get it back.”
“Sorry, Al.” Podge chuckled, and then turned back to offer me a wink. “Keep on keeping it together, Joe.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Keep on keeping it together? The plan?” Alec shook his head and groaned, “Why do I always feel like you two are speaking in riddles around me?”
“Because you’re perceptive,” Podge shot back with a smirk.
“No, no, I’m not,” Alec grumbled. “I know what you two fuckers are doing. Don’t deny it.”
“He said you were perceptive, Al.” I laughed, pucking the ball toward him. “Do you know what ‘perceptive’ means?”
“Of course I know what it means,” Alec huffed, catching the sliotar midair. “It’s when you’re second-guessing everything and don’t trust a word of what’s being said around you.”
Podge threw his head back and laughed, while I scrubbed a hand down my face before muttering, “That’s paranoia, Al.”
“It is?”
Podge chuckled “Yeah, lad. It’s a whole different word with a whole different meaning.”
“Maybe I did hit you too hard before,” I offered dryly.
“Paranoia.” Alec frowned. “Then what’s ‘perceptive’?”
“Something you’ll never be accused of being again,” Podge laughed.
“Right, lads, spread out and we’ll have another puck around before it gets dark,” I instructed, jogging backwards. “We’ve a match against St. Fintan’s next week, and I have no intention of letting those fuckers knock us out of the playoffs.”
“So, the school board got back to you with their decision?” Alec asked, tone hopeful.
“Yeah, they phoned Mam the day before yesterday,” I replied, jumping up to catch the sliotar midair. “Apparently, I’m on the last of my nine lives.”
“So, you’re not getting expelled?”
I grinned. “Not this week.”
______________________
It was closing in on five in the evening when Podge nudged me on the arm, alerting me to the fact that we had company. Squinting in the semidarkness, I tried and failed to put names on the faces watching us from the far side of the pitch, as my hackles rose and my body tensed up at the unknown threat.
“They’re definitely watching us,” Podge muttered.
“I think they’re from Tommen,” Alec noted, rubbing his jaw. “I’ve definitely seen that big fella in the local paper playing rugby.”
“Yeah, they drink in Biddies.”
“The fuck are they doing here?” I bit out.
“Yeah. Wrong pitch.”
“Wrong side of town, more like.”
We continued to puck the sliotar around for another five minutes until it was clear that they weren’t going away.
“Give me a sec,” I snapped, throwing my helmet off. “I’ll sort this.” Pissed off, I stalked toward the group of rich pricks huddling at the sidelines of my goddamn pitch.
