We’re pushing against Rigsborough, pouring every ounce of muscle and strength into driving them back.
Abs throws the ball under the scrum, angling it towards Snatch, and then he’s immediately at the rear of the pack, hopping from foot to foot behind the number eight ready to collect it and pass to Riley the second the opportunity opens up.
We’re stronger than the Ravens. Our many extra combined years of experience, training, and grit moves them forward, freeing the ball. Abs is right there. He swipes it from the grass and passes it back to Riley.
Riley sidesteps the Rigsborough scrum-half and dodges a flying tackle from their number eight, but ahead of him the Ravens are building their defensive wall.
“Get rid of it!” I yell.
Riley dummy passes it to the right, slaloms around their hooker, then tosses it to the left, to Pi, who’s open enough for everyone to know that the second the ball lands in his grasp, the Cents have won another try.
The crowd erupts into cheers, and Pi hotfoots it over the try line. He’s so blasé about the whole thing, and Rigsborough are so slow to respond, that he walks the ball between the posts before grounding it.
I’m on him in an instant, wrapping my arms around him, kissing his forehead. “Fuck yeah.”
“Do you think we’ve done it?!” he yells over the cheering. “Have we done enough to prove it?”
“Time will tell, pard,” I say, moving out of the way so the others can congratulate him.
Riley converts the try, and the Ravens score another before the full-time whistle. They don’t convert theirs—a tricky corner shot—but the noise the crowd makes for the opposition’s try, if anything, is louder than any cheering we’ve heard for the home team all afternoon.
Pi’s awarded player of the match.
After the game, Pi and I report to the principal’s office—the section of the locker room where the coaches are hanging around—for feedback. One of my favourite things about Eksteen is that he’s not shy with dishing out praise, but you have to work for it.
We’re rewarded with a “Good job, boys.”
Pi low-fives me.
Eksteen turns to the rest of the Cents. “Fellas, that was an absolute joy to watch. You should all be very proud of how you conducted yourselves. Especially Riley and Alfie. Nice work. Ellis, next season we’ll get you in for more specialised scrum-half training. Very impressed with how you handled that.”
“Oh my god,” Abs says, the second Eksteen leaves us. “I need to tell Lan.” He’s already digging through his bag for his phone.
“I reckon that was enough to secure it for us,” I say to Pi.
He nods. “But I think we should do it your way as well. Do a dance routine thing. Honestly, it would show that we’re able to coordinate everyone and get them working towards the same outcome.”
My mouth hangs open.
“I have one teeny suggestion, though . . .” he says, crowding right up into my space to tell me his idea.
Chapter 7
Aiden
Tuesday 18th May 2027
“Listen up, boys,” Eggo announces to the entire cafeteria once everybody is seated with their lunch. Heads turn to him, this time without the usual jeering “bants.”
I guess this is the captain effect. People respect us now.
“At the awards ceremony in two weeks, we’re going to put on a little surprise for the coaches,” he continues.
Suddenly, Dan is paying a lot more attention. He glances around the room for Eksteen, doesn’t find him, and raises a brow at Eggo.
Eggo winks at Dan, then addresses the entire room again. “Pi and I . . . That sounds weird. Pi and me? Me and Pi? Pi and . . . moi? No, they all sound wrong. Anyway, me and this guy right here need to show the powers that be—a.k.a. the bosses, the rugby elders—that we can work together and coordinate shit in terms of you lot. So we’ve come up with a plan . . . well, Abs’s boyfriend came up with the pl—”
“Get on with it,” Snatch shouts through cupped palms.
