Read Online After by Sue Lawson - Free Book Online

said, walking as fast as I could without spilling the drinks. A car horn tooted. Frewen led the team onto the field. I’d been gone for the entire Under-14s match.
    Grandpa must have seen me coming. He met me at the back of his ute. ‘What’s going on here?’
    ‘Latte and curry pie for you. Hot chocolate for me.’ I couldn’t look at his face.
    ‘Saw your grandmother slip you money. Did she tell you what to buy me?’ He took the brown paper bags from me. ‘And a caramel slice.’
    ‘That’s mine.’
    We sat on the bonnet, Grandpa eating his pie and drinking his coffee. Me eating my slice and hot chocolate.
    ‘Good?’ asked Grandpa, crumpling his empty paper bag.
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Figured, from the way you were getting into it.’
    ‘Better than the ones at home.’
    ‘Callum, about what I said ... about not wanting you here. I—’
    ‘Forget it. No one wants me around these days.’
    ‘Callum, that’s just not true.’
    I shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
    Grandpa sighed.
    We ate in silence, watching the footy. A small kid marked the ball and played on but Frewen ran him down and tackled him to the ground. Then he leant into the small of the kid’s back as he stood, pleading with the umpire for a free.
    ‘Good tackle,’ said Grandpa, draining the last of his drink. He turned to face me. ‘Callum, I am glad to have you here.’
    I nodded, eyes on the long grass around the fence post.
    ‘And about the footy...’
    A car horn blared. Then a second.
    ‘Great goal.’ Grandpa clapped. ‘Jack’s tackle set that up.’
    The team celebrated near the forward pocket.
    Tim high-fived Matt and Vinnie. Frewen and Klay hugged.
    ‘I used to love sport—footy,’ I said, brushing caramel slice crumbs from my knees. It would have been so easy to let the words I kept buried spill into the gap between Grandpa and me. But once I’d said them I couldn’t take them back, and once he knew, he wouldn’t want me around for real. I packed the words back into the corner deep inside.
    Grandpa nodded. ‘You will again. Give it time.’
    The siren cut the air.
    ‘Quarter time. I’m going out to the huddle.’ Grandpa pushed off the bonnet. He took a step before turning back. ‘Want to come?’
    ‘I’ll wait here.’
    Drizzle started to fall. I wished I’d asked Grandpa to leave me the keys. Then again, this was the country. I slipped off the bonnet and walked around to try the passenger door. Open.
    I climbed inside, planning to grab the oilskin coat and sit back on the bonnet. But the cocoon feeling of the cabin drew me in. I settled into the seat and shut the door. The misty rain on the windscreen distorted the Winter Creek footy player huddle, but I could still see who the coach was—Dan Agar. No wonder he was so jokey with Frewen, Matt, Klay and Miffo.
    Mr Agar pointed at the goals, the ground and at Frewen. Each player followed his every move, like a cat watching a fly. They nodded and clapped their hands, their mouths moving. I didn’t have to hear the words to know they were staying stuff like ‘Come on’ and ‘We can do it’—stuff I used to say when I played.
    I glanced at the scoreboard. Winter Creek was down by 10 points, but it was only quarter time. Grandpa stood on the edge of the huddle, arms folded. He smiled and clapped when Mr Agar sent the boys back to their positions. As they scattered, I noticed Luke among the people who’d been standing around the huddle. I recognised that look on his face—it was a look of longing.
    The wind forced a rain droplet across the window. The droplet’s path traced the ridge of the mountains in the distance.
    ‘Smart move, staying in the car, mate,’ said Grandpa, eyes on the road. His hair was plastered to his head and he smelt of wet wool. He’d left his oilskin coat in the ute. ‘Even my undies are wet.’
    ‘Okay, way too much information!’ I picked out another droplet to follow.
    ‘Next week we play at home. Against Sheffield. Would you...’ Listening