Holding Out for a Hero (16 page)

“Field,” Jake interrupted.
Field. For the love of God.

“Because,” Ella continued, ignoring him, “they’re too delicate or uncoordinated or stupid to play themselves?”

Miranda blew her fringe off her face with a huff. “I know we have a long way to go. I know that the glass ceiling still exists. That some men still think it’s okay to rape and beat up women and make sexist jokes and discriminate against us. But this isn’t about that. This is about what we can do to support Hanniford’s cup bid.”

Ella opened her mouth to speak but Miranda ploughed through, on a roll.

“Look at the Bullets last weekend. Their cheer squad was amazing. And right off the bat they had a mental advantage over us because they had all the bells and whistles and we didn’t. With every chant, they were saying our team’s better than yours because we have all the luxuries, like a cheer squad. Think of it as a stare down. Like the Hakka. We want every team in Brisbane to know that we’re a school to be reckoned with.”

Miranda fell silent. Jake caught Ella’s eye, shook his head and mouthed,
No
, at her.

Ella frowned. Jake didn’t want it either? She bit back a snort. She’d have thought Jake would be all for it. She pictured him munching a cigar and saying, “Sure, babe, stick them in tassels and thongs and let ’em shake their tushes all over the ground.”

Field.

Jake could see Ella was hesitating and he shook his head at her, firmer this time.
No
, he mouthed again. Jesus! What the hell was there to prevaricate about?

He was glaring at her now and Ella felt all the bitterness from Sunday rise in her like mercury in a thermometer. She opened her mouth to say something but Jake got in first.

“I think Miss Lucas has made herself clear, Miranda,” Jake said. “I don’t think we should take up any more of her time.”

“But” Miranda protested as Jake grabbed her elbow.

Ella narrowed her eyes. “Wait right there!” What the hell was
his
problem? Whatever it was, she was sufficiently angry with him that she was perfectly happy to sacrifice her feminist principles just to piss him off in any way she could. “I think Miranda’s made some very salient points.”

“Ella.”

She arched an eyebrow at his clearly irritated voice. “We don’t want to come across as the poor cousins or second-class citizens.”

“What about Emmeline?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure Emmeline would have approved of Miranda’s daring to stand up for something she believes in.”

Jake looked at her smug face and knew instantly this wasn’t about a long-dead suffragette. This was about Sunday. “Yes,” he agreed, “but would she approve of your actions?”

Ella gave a harsh laugh. “You really want to debate disgraceful actions?”

Jake’s teeth ground together so hard he suddenly knew what it must feel like to have lock jaw. Damned if he was going to do this in front of Miranda.

Miranda was looking from one to the other, frowning. “Er, excuse me?” She broke the tense silence. “I am still here.”

Ella dragged her gaze away from a grim Jake and forced herself to smile at Miranda. “I’ll ring and talk to your mother this afternoon.”

Miranda quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

Ella gave a brief nod. “That’s a yes.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God!” Miranda turned to an immobile Jake and hugged him. She turned back to Ella and beamed. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Ella laughed at Miranda’s enthusiasm. “There are conditions.”

“Name them.”

“I don’t want to walk around the school grounds and feel like I’m in an
Archie
comic.”

Miranda furrowed her brow. “Huh?”

Ella sighed. “No beauty pageants, no popularity contests—all comers regardless of size, sex and nationality are welcome to be in if they want.”

Miranda nodded. “Diversity. Check.”

“The uniforms are to be modest. No short skirts, no bare bits.”

Miranda nodded again. “Functional. Check.”

“No sexually suggestive or male ego-stroking chants. It’s about the school, okay?”

“Hanniford chants only. Check.”

Ella smiled. “Alright, then. Keep me up-to-date.”

“I will. I will.’ Miranda grinned and then bounded out of the office.

Which left Jake and Ella glaring at each other.

Jake shook his head. “All you had to do was say no.”

“This felt better,” she snapped. They glared at each other for a few more moments. “Is that all?” she demanded.

Jake huffed out an irritated sigh and turned on his heel, yanking the door open. He stopped, looked back over his shoulder and contemplated talking to her about Sunday. But she was still glaring and he was too pissed off to bother so he slammed the door on his way out instead.

At least having this wall of resentment between them made keeping their professional distance easy. It also helped dampen the urge to tear her clothes off and do her on her desk.

Because, despite everything, he really, really wanted to do her on her desk.

Looking around the grounds of her beloved school as she sat in her very own Demons jersey nervously awaiting the referee’s whistle, Ella couldn’t believe what a difference six months had made.

The Hanniford oval had undergone a complete facelift. The grass was tended to lovingly by a retired groundskeeper. New undercover stands lined each side of the field. The goalposts had been replaced and the score board had been repaired and repainted and towered, pride of place, over the proceedings. All this was thanks to the hard work and fundraising efforts of the newly established P&C. Two years ago when she’d had the principal’s job thrust upon her, she’d tried to get a P&C up and running, tried to engage parents, but she hadn’t been able to attract a single one.

My, how things had changed.

She glanced at Jake. He was already prowling up and down the sideline like a caged beast. Even in his regulation dark glasses and baseball cap, he was all hard muscle and sleek lines. Everything he’d worked for—they’d worked for—was riding on the outcome of this match. The Hanniford Demons were battling it out with the Stafford Sabers for the last spot on the finals board. They’d come a long way and gotten here by the skin of their teeth.

They had to do it. They just
had
to.

A short, decisive trill pierced the electric hum and the crowd roared as the Sabers kicked the ball toward their goal post.

“I’m going to throw up,” Ella said to Rosie.

“You say that every match,” Rosie murmured, her gaze firmly glued to the action.

“Yeah, but this time I think I mean it.”

“They’re going to be fine, babe.” Rosie turned to Ella and gave her hand a squeeze. “They’re going to kick some Saber ass.”

Ella looked at her friend and smiled. The change in Rosie had been rather dramatic too. Gone was the studded dog’s collar and the blood red lips had been replaced with demure clear lip gloss. There was color in her wardrobe—blue jeans, some pinks, purples and oranges. The eyebrow piercing had been removed. Even her language had been cleaned up. She’d morphed into Doris bloody Day—with black hair.

Simon sat beside Rosie, his hand on her knee, his fingers drumming. She liked Simon, she really did. Rosie was in love with him and his support for the Demons had been unwavering. But Ella wasn’t so sure it was good idea to change so dramatically for a man.

Another blast from the whistle brought her attention back to the game as a penalty was awarded to the Sabers. Ella buried her face in her palms. The game had been going for five minutes and already she couldn’t watch. She just couldn’t.

“Come on the Demons!”

Ella turned and looked behind her up into the crowded stand, witnessing another miraculous change. The Hanniford supporters, a sea of black and red complete with their signature red horn headbands, had turned out in force. As the season had progressed and the Demons had won more games, the stands had gradually filled with Hanniford families until it was a must-attend weekend event.

A lump rose in her chest as she gazed upon the entire school community packing the stands at this, their final home game. The sense of pride and accomplishment Ella felt glowed like a furnace deep inside her, warming her soul. Hanniford had finally found its mojo. And she wasn’t about to let it go.

As she scanned the crowd she still couldn’t believe the changes the last six months had wrought had also managed to filter through to the student body. She’d hoped that they’d win a few footy matches and save their school from closure, maybe show her students that hard work and determination could pay off. But she’d never expected this.

It seemed the entire male student population had undergone a magical transformation: every one of them had traded their awful, shaggy hairstyles for sleek number twos. It had been a gradual change to begin with, subtle, not something she’d noticed. But slowly, as the Demons had crept up the points ladder, more and more boys had joined the ranks. And, sitting here today, it was a sight to behold. She could see eyes again, faces.

And then there was the gradual decline in her truancy rate and the spring in everyone’s step, from the teachers to the students. Her staff was energized and kids who used to mope around with the weight of the world on their shoulders were walking tall, smiling at her, greeting her with enthusiasm. With respect. Greeting her like she was principal of the year.

But perhaps the biggest change of all had occurred in her. For a start, she never would have believed that she’d be voluntarily spending every Saturday perched on a hard wooden seat, watching a football match—not in a million years. Six months ago, she’d have rather had root canal every Saturday. Actually, not much had changed. In fact, she’d upgrade to electric shock therapy if it got her out of having to watch their most important game to date. She still thought football seemed ridiculously macho and kind of pointless but she couldn’t deny its positive effects.

She would be forever grateful to it—to Jake—for giving her back her school.

The crowd in the stand opposite started to roar and Ella turned back to see what the excitement was about. One of the Sabers was storming toward their try line. Cameron and several Demons were hot on his heels and Ella felt like her heart was in her mouth.
Go Cam. Go Cam. Go Cam.

Even her relationship with Cam had come a long way. Cameron was the happiest, the most settled she’d seen him since she’d dragged him out of Huntley and brought him to live with her. He attended school, he trained hard, he’d become polite and respectful. More talkative.

She knew that “close” was a ways off, but for the first time in two and a half years, Ella actually felt it was a possibility. He and Miranda, however, had become quite close, and it was encouraging at least to see that he had the capacity to form human relationships. He’d always been so distant; it was a relief to see him engaging finally.

Cameron reached out and grabbed the wiry halfback’s jersey and yanked on it, wrapping the speeding Saber in a bear hug and pulling him to the ground. Everyone in the stand rose to their feet, cheering.

“Good tackle, Cam,” Jake called.

Ella watched as Cameron untangled himself from the wildly kicking Saber and stood, turning to Jake with a huge grin on his face. Ella’s heart lurched in her chest. He adored Jake, hero worshipped him. She owed Jake a lot. It rankled but it was the truth. Their personal stuff aside, he had helped her connect with her brother.

A scrum was being formed as Ella continued to watch, her fingers gripping the edge of the narrow wooden bench she was balancing on. It was a Hanniford feed so it was important they got it the hell away from the opposition’s try line.

The Demons had the ball for ten seconds until a tricky intercept put the Sabers frighteningly close to their line again with a full six tackles to go.

Oh God! She couldn’t watch.

She looked away, her gaze falling on Miranda and Hanniford’s diverse cheer squad cheering on the sidelines.

Plump red and black pompoms flashed through the air as the squad shook them high above their heads. Ella had to admit, despite her initial misgivings, the squad was a credit to Miranda and Trish. A melting pot of genders and sizes and ethnicities, they had become an integral part of the Demons’ matches. They entered into another chant and Ella compared them to the Sabers’ cheer leaders: tiny green and yellow outfits with micro skirts, plunging necklines and green Lycra hot pants with Sabers stamped across the ass.

The Demons, boys and girls, had red cotton leotards with mandarin necklines and black cargo-style pants that ended below their knees. They all wore the red devil-ear headbands. An image in black of a devil complete with pitchfork graced the front of the leotards. “Hanniford Demons” was emblazoned beside him.

On the back of the leotard, and this was what Ella loved the most, it said, “Hanniford Demons Say No to Violence Against Women.”

Even better was how the entire school, rallied by Miranda, had united to produce them. The senior textiles students had made the uniforms as part of their assessments and the art students had enthusiastically taken on the project of the leotard design from logo conception right through to the screen printing. And the P&C had paid for them.

Ella had been blown away by the way the project had been embraced by the students. Even now a lump rose in her throat thinking about how everyone had pulled together. And they looked amazing. Not cutesy-pie like the Sabers but fit and strong and, with red and black stripes slashed on each cheek, warrior-like.

Miranda had even roped Cerberus into the team spirit, making him a doggy coat with “Hanniford Demons” hand-stitched across it. And, so he wouldn’t feel out of place, she’d modified a headband to give him his own pair of red horns. Jake had taken one look at Cerberus that first time and rolled his eyes. But, like a true stray, Cerberus loved the attention and when he wasn’t sitting by Simon’s feet, he prowled the sidelines, barking encouragement at his team.

A roar came from the Sabers’ stand and Ella didn’t have to look to know the opposition had just scored their first try. “Oh no,” she wailed and clutched Rosie’s hand.

“Don’t worry,” Simon said. “Plenty of time. It ain’t over till the last hooter sounds.”

Ella knew he was right but still her insides felt like they’d been scrunched in a tight ball and she watched the first half through the cracks of her fingers when she could bear to peek out. When the half-time siren blew, the Demons were scoreless to the Sabers’ twelve. Ella went to the toilets and threw up.

When she ventured back, Pete, Jake and the team were huddled together. Seventeen sweaty teenage boys were drinking water and eating orange segments while Jake strategized, encouraged and praised in equal measure.

Ella approached. After assuring Jake she wouldn’t say break a leg again, it had become a tradition for her to talk to the team at the start of the match. But she wanted them to know that no matter what happened in the second half, she was proud of them.

“Ella?”

She hated how formal it was between them now. It was for the best, she knew, drawing a definitive line through their past, both distant and recent. But it seemed impossible to believe now that he’d looked at her with such blind lust not that long ago. That he’d pushed her onto a pool table and pounded into her until she’d had burn marks on her ass.

“Don’t be discouraged, guys.” She gave them all a big smile, letting it linger on Cameron. “There’s another forty minutes. Anything can happen. Just remember, I’m so happy that we even got this far. You’ve done me and Hanniford proud.”

The whistle blew and the team ran back onto the ground. Miranda lead the squad in a cheer and the Hanniford crowd yelled, “Go Demons,” and “Demons rule.” Ella stood beside Jake and watched them get into position, her gut twisting harder.

Jake glanced down at her. “You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You look like you’re going to throw up.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Already accomplished.” There were a few moments of silence and then she asked, “They’ve been playing well though, haven’t they?”

Jake chuckled. “How would you know that? You’ve been sitting there with your hands over your face.”

“I can’t bear to look!”

Jake nodded. “I know the feeling.”

This was the most personal conversation they’d had, just the two of them, since that night. It gave her courage to say what had to be said.

“Look, Jake, I know there’s some … stuff between us—that we have our … issues.” She looked up at him, gauging his reaction but he was watching the field, his dark shades giving nothing away, the shadow from the brim of his cap throwing his face into hard-to-read lines.

“But I just want you to know that I’m more than aware you’ve given this your all. I know you were coerced into it and this wasn’t how you planned to spend your retirement. And it’s okay that we didn’t make it. You gave it your best shot.”

Jake removed his glasses and looked down at her. Her words were like a stiletto between his ribs. Not only had she accused him of sleeping with Rachel, she also thought the game was over.

She’d given up
.

Jake had contemplated strangling her on many occasions over the last six months but never more than at this moment. Not even that awful morning. “Listen to me carefully. We’re going to win this match. And then we’re going to win the finals. And then we’re going to take out the Schools Cup. I may not have wanted this in the beginning, Ella, but I’m in now. And I play to win.”

Ella was captured by the blaze of conviction in his green eyes and the growl of menace in his low voice. She really, really wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe they could win.

“Jake. They’re ahead by twelve points.”

“Ella,” he cautioned. “Have some faith.” He replaced his glasses and turned his attention back to the field.

Dismissed, she returned to her seat. Trish Jones had joined Rosie and Simon and Ella smiled at her absently while she stewed on his reprimand. They’d been moving on the peripheries of each other’s worlds for so long now she’d forgotten how much of an impact he had close up.

The desire to communicate with him after that fateful Sunday morning had been non-existent. So they hadn’t, other than what was absolutely necessary, using a good-natured Pete as their intermediary. Their relationship had been strained at first but had moved to polite over the intervening months. Today was the first time he’d said anything of a personal nature at all.

In fact the only times she saw him these days were at the matches. Maybe an occasional glimpse around the school. He was courteous at these times and always allowed her a few minutes for her pep talk before each match but that was where it ended. She’d have to have been blind to miss the major keep out signs posted in his impersonal green gaze.