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Ten Years Ago

June 15th, 1982

Mum was passed out on the couch again, her greasy blonde hair draped over her blemished face, shielding her from the rest of the world. Unfortunately it was a familiar sight, and one I came home to every day. I couldn’t remember the last time she was coherent enough to greet me or ask how my day was. Her current boyfriend, Troy, sat across from her, heating up the underside of a metal spoon. A still-smoking bong was in front of him on the coffee table, a black rim beside it on the wood Mum used to make sure always had coasters.

I quietly snuck past the lounge room and went to my room, leaving the door ajar just in case, and shoved whatever could fit inside my backpack. Fuck staying here anymore, I was not sticking around to see her numb herself with drugs because she couldn’t handle Dad not being around. I turned my piggy bank upside down, collecting the coins as they dropped into my palm, and shoved them in my back pocket before I tip-toed back outside.

The payphone was covered in graffiti and old gum. Cars sped past as I slid the coins into the slot and dialed the only number I knew by heart. The phone rang for no longer than ten seconds before the soft voice of Evie Rosen answered.

“Hello?” she asked down the line, music playing loudly in the background.

“Evelyn?” I said, cupping the bottom of the phone so she could hear me over the traffic.

“Oh, hi Jackson!” she gushed, her tone no longer sceptical.

“Hi Evie, is Peter there?” I asked, crossing my fingers.

“No, he's with Dad at the garage.”

I tossed my head back and groaned.

“Yeah…is everything okay?” she questioned with less enthusiasm than before, no doubt hurt by my reaction. Fuck. “Jackson?” she repeated, the music now silent.

“Sorry, um, I really need to speak to Peter.” No way was I looping Evie in on the bullshit that happened at home.

“Do you need someone to talk to? Because you can tell me, I promise I won’t judge…” She trailed off, and for a second I actually considered it. I knew she wouldn’t judge me, but that wasn’t the issue, I just…didn’t want her to know, because it was embarrassing to me to even be in this situation.

“No, that’s okay. I just need a place to stay for a couple of days,” I said, looking behind me in case Troy followed me here.

“Oh! I’m sure Dad won’t mind, do you need a lift?” she offered, and her concern for me strangely warmed my cheeks.

“N-no, I’m just down the road. I'll be there soon,” I said as butterflies swarmed in my stomach.

“Okay, then…see you soon. Bye, Jackson.” She hung up, the dial tone ringing in my ear before I had a chance to respond.

“Goodbye Evie,” I said into the telephone, a small smile creeping up the corners of my mouth.

CHAPTER TEN

JACKSON

Present Day

December 16th, 1992

Thirty seconds.

That’s all it came down to.

Thirty seconds to win it, or thirty seconds to lose everything.

We needed a goal. One clean kick, and we’re through to the Grand Final, a place the Kangas haven’t seen since ’82. My heartbeat is loud enough to drown out the roar of the crowd inside the stadium. The weight of it pressed in from all sides. The club, coach, the crowd…all of them hanging on this moment. No pressure. The cheers drowned out the boos as I took out my mouth guard and placed it in my long sock. Bending down and flipping the Sherrin football in my hands, I inhaled and exhaled, excitement pumping through my veins.

You can do this, Jackson. You can fucking do this.

The stadium lights were blinding, and the grandstands shook with the weight of the crowd’s hopeful exhilaration. I flipped the ball one last time. Step. Stutter. Then I moved. My leg swung, muscle memory taking over as the ball left my boot.

And just like that—everything stopped.