Page 39 of Brat on the Ball

George: I hope you’re doing OK.

I sent the text, and moved on before I could dwell too much on what I’d sent, and what I was missing.

I knew Elsie was waiting for my call, so I dialled her. “Are we ready?”

“Ready. I’ve set you up with the ads I mentioned, and I think we’re going to get a good few offers of sponsorship from companies directly. People like you and your perspective,” Elsie said.

“I don’t think they ever have before,” I chuckled. “Seriously though, you think this could work?”

“Darling, if you weren’t so busy with your rugby career, we would be empire-building. Podcasts, YouTube channel, the lot. As it is, it should be enough to give you a post-career war chest and pay toward Blod’s after-school club fees.”

“Right. OK. So what’s next? What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing. I’m going to just put all the draft posts on a schedule and put them out daily, from oldest to newest, just to give this soft-launch as much power as possible. Do you want me to read through them for you?”

Finn walked into the room and noticed I was still on the phone. “Team talk. On pitch,” he stage-whispered.

I nodded, realising I hadn’t answered Elsie properly. “Nah, I’ve proofread my stuff. Just put it out, I guess.”

“Will do, boss.”

“I’m not your boss.”

“Good boy. You’ll live.”

I laughed as I pressed the red button. Elsie was proving to be a valuable ally and an even better friend. I felt like with her at my back, my future was secure.

The only thing missing now was Ollie.

Chapter Twenty-One - Ollie

I’d been training with the lads for a couple of hours when Chen Ng mentioned that Tim was waiting for me in his office.

“Not fired, am I?” I joked. Chen just shrugged.

Cory grabbed my arm before I could leave the training field. “Can we…talk later? I need to discuss some stuff with you.”

“Sure, mate.” He looked genuinely worried, so I gave him the most reassuring arm pat I could and made my way into the training building. I rubbed my hands together. The mid-February chill was horrible, and I relished the warmth of the inside, even if I had no idea what the occasion was for Tim to call me into his office. He normally led training, but he’d been absent for a couple of days.

I veered into the changing room before facing Tim. I had taken to checking my phone between every training session, and constantly at home, for a text from George. Though I’d kept my distance and not texted him, I was hoping against all odds that he would text me.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw he had texted, and I felt like an idiot for getting so excited. He was just checking in on me. We hadn’t seen each other for almost a week. I was giving him space. Or he was giving me space, I didn’t know.

But I didn’t reply to him. Because I still didn’t have an answer to his question.

I was in love with George Reynolds. A man. That was easy to admit. Internally, I could admit that I had only ever fancied blokes, and the high-school hand jobs had probably been something a little more than the usual teenage experimentation for me.

So why couldn’t I say the words? Why couldn’t I come out, especially for George?

I had no idea.

I put my phone back into my bag and walked the short distance to Tim’s office. “Come in,” he said after I knocked.

As soon as I opened the door, I could tell that he was in a grim mood. “Sit down,” he said. “Oh. Shut the door too.”

Shit.I shut the door and sat down gingerly, trying not to show the fear on my face.

“Have you heard of Al-Nassr?” he asked me quietly.

---