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*****
His life consisted of the pre-season training Coach was putting them through and studying. Every year he questioned his career choice, the gruelling workouts taking their toll. Hour after hour of high-intensity exercise—workouts to build fitness, ball handling skills, tackling drills—you name it, they did it. Then he would drive home, listen to the recorded lecture, sit in on his online tutorial or read the chapter assigned to him, do any set problems, and work on his assessment, all before King arrived. They’d spent every afternoon together since Addy had left for Sydney a week earlier, and with the exception of their first tutoring session, King had stayed for dinner every night. They’d cooked together or ordered takeout, laughing and getting to know each other outside of the statistics umbrella they were under most of the time.
Lij had joined them after work last night, and they’d played poker into the early morning hours, only for his alarm to blare after three hours of sleep. He was paying for it that morning, Coach shouting at him more than once. This time, he’d fumbled the ball, dropping an easy pass when he couldn’t hold back his yawn. Liam shook the weariness off and held up his hand in an apologetic wave.
Training wrapped up an hour later and Liam trudged into the change rooms following his teammates. Stripping off, he tossed his dirty uniform in his bag and reached for his towel, wrapping it around his waist. “Masters, my office when you’re done showering,” Coach ordered from the doorway. He would happily curl up on the floor of the shower and sleep, but he didn’t dawdle, scrubbing himself down and washing his hair as the water sluiced over him. Sighing, he shut off the water, dried, and got dressed.
“What’s going on, man?” Daz, his captain, asked. Liam shrugged. He had no idea why Coach wanted to see him other than his performance that day being lacklustre. Was that enough to warrant more than the dressing down he’d already received? Probably, but Liam hoped Coach would give him the benefit of the doubt.
Pulling on his shoes and socks, Liam answered, “No idea, mate. S’pose I’ll find out.” Leaving his gear in the locker room, Liam headed up the wide tiled hallway that smelled of old socks and humid air, toward Coach’s office. He knocked on the closed door, his nerves playing havoc with him.
“Come.”
Liam entered, closing the door with a quiet snick behind him. “Sorry about today, Coach—”
“As long as you being tired wasn’t because you were out partying last night, I’ll let it slide.”
“No, just had some friends over after tutoring. It won’t happen again.” Liam hesitated and Coach tilted his head, silently encouraging him to explain. “I’m working with a tutor to pass the subject I failed last trimester. He’s my neighbour’s boyfriend.”
“Well, keep doing what you’re doing on field too and you’ll have a good year. If you can pass that subject as well—”
“It’ll be a stellar one.” He grinned, confident that with King’s help he could get there. “The sooner I kick statistics, the better.” If he passed—no when he passed—he would move onto the advanced statistics class, and another fifteen odd weeks of spending time with King.
After the check-in, he walked back into the change rooms, intending to text Daz to update him. But when he picked up his phone, a notification was waiting for him. He eagerly opened it, thinking it was King planning dinner. He was bringing the ingredients over for a dish his mum cooked that Liam had salivated over when King described it. But the message wasn’t from King. It was his mum.
Your sister needs furniture for the nursery. We’ve found some lovely pieces for it. Can you transfer $5,000? It would help her out a lot.
Liam sat down on the bench in the now empty change room, his gut bottoming out. He didn’t know what to feel seeing those words printed on his phone. Anger? Frustration? Betrayal, perhaps? The request itself didn’t bother him. He was used to giving them money. At least his mum had framed her demand in the form of a question this time. It let him pretend he could say no. But he never would. If his sister needed it, he would give it to her. That’s what brothers did. He had money, she needed it.
That wasn’t the problem.
What rankled him was… hell, he didn’t even know anymore. He knew his mother would never reach out to his sister if he needed any kind of help. But then, he wouldn’t go to his mum either. She’d tell him that he was an adult and part of being one was to take responsibility for his life, and fair enough. It wasn’t that she’d asked for help when it wouldn’t be reciprocated. It was more that the only time his mum reached out was when she wanted something, usually money. She never called or messaged him to say hi or ask how he was. She never sent him good luck messages before a game. They hadn’t even remembered his birthday this year. It was Lij’s family who’d brought him cake, complete with candles and silly presents.
It wasn’t even that he already paid double the market rent for their property each week. For what he was paying, he could get a place on the waterfront, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. While the house he’d grown up in had some happy memories, most of them cantered around Lij, and now Addy. Moving meant leaving them—the family who’d stepped in as substitutes when his own were uninterested. Lij, Addy, Carol, and Pop were the closest thing to a family he had.
Of course, his father would disagree. It would be another thing he’d lecture Liam over if his dad ever heard his thoughts. But that was the way his father parented. He was completely hands off unless a punishment was warranted. Liam couldn’t remember receiving a single hug from his dad, yet the man doted over his only daughter. He remembered back when he was little his dad saying that men didn’t cry and hugging was for girls. It explained why his dad always had one ready for his sister, but never one for him.
Some things never changed, he supposed. Now he understood that she was their favourite. Back then, he thought there was something wrong with him. Still did sometimes, but he’d never done anything wrong. Never acted out. Never caused trouble. His only fault was that he’d simply been born a boy when his parents were desperate for another girl.
He was a terrible person to think like that, but at least now his sister had moved away and their parents had followed, their favouritism wasn’t constantly being paraded in his face. Now it was just texts like these that did it. Was it too much to ask that he get a hello? A how are you? Liam knew better. He shook off the heaviness that had blanketed him and sent a text back,Sure.
Within moments another message appeared on his screen.When are you transferring the money? I’m waiting at the store now. I’d prefer not to have to wait for long.
Liam sighed, his shoulders slumping as the weight of his parents’ expectations pressed down on him. He was kidding himself thinking even for a moment that he could say no to her. He opened his banking app, transferred the money, took a screenshot, and sent another text with the image included. His mother would keep hounding him until the money hit, and he didn’t have the mental bandwidth to deal with her.
He had a mini test to study for, good company, and dinner with King to look forward to.
Fifteen
Kingston
“T
hat’s it, mate. Nearly there,” Mike coached as King struggled under the weight he was bench-pressing. King grunted as he straightened his arms, and Mike guided the bar to the cradle.
“You really notice the difference even when it’s only a couple of kilos heavier,” King puffed, shaking out his arms. Every one of his muscles were screaming and at the same time were jelly-like. But he loved the burn from working out with Mike. The man was a machine, pushing him harder than any other trainer in the gym—except maybe Levi—and it was great to see him back at 100 percent. Heart problems had side-tracked him for a couple of months, turning him into a shell of the man King knew. But the surgery was successful, and Mike was back.
“Mhmm,” Mike answered, leaning against the weight rack as he assessed him. “Have to say, King, I’m seeing the difference in your physique too. Your body fat is dropping and you’re still bulking up. You should be really pleased with the changes.”
