The Crush by Scott Monk Page B

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    Matt moved to leave but the four goons surrounding him blocked the exits. Blackwell spun him round. ‘You better start listening or else.’
    Matt’s jaw clamped tight in anger. He scouted for Kelly. There was no sign of her.
    â€˜What do you want then?’ he demanded.
    â€˜You know what I want.’
    â€˜Zoo keepers to stop putting you back in their gorilla enclosure?’
    Blackwell laughed, amused. ‘That’s good coming from a guy whose mum shops at tent stores for clothes.’
    â€˜Hey! Don’t insult my mum.’
    Blackwell shoved him backwards. ‘Then you better start taking me very seriously, feral.’
    Matt tried retaliating but two goons grabbed him from behind.
    â€˜Get your hands off me!’
    Blackwell slapped Matt in the face. ‘Stop worrying about them and start worrying about me. You and I have things to talk about.’
    â€˜We’ve got nothing to talk about.’
    â€˜Oh yes we do. Plenty in fact. Remember the other day? You nearly got me arrested. If my old manhadn’t talked the cops out of it, I could be in serious trouble because of you. It’s bad enough to have the Porsche taken away from me, but to know you were responsible? Mate, if I didn’t like you before, I hate you now.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So it’s payback time.’
    â€˜You can’t be serious.’
    â€˜Deadly. It’s a simple proposition. You know your finals match against Punchbowl Boys High next week? You’re going to lose it.’
    â€˜Yeah right!’
    Blackwell jabbed a finger at Matt’s face. ‘I’m not joking.’
    â€˜Yes you are if you think I’ll ever throw a match. I’d never let my teammates down.’
    The Lions captain leaned forward, eye-to-eye. ‘You better.’
    â€˜Hey, Aaron,’ one of his goons said, elbowing him.
    Blackwell glanced up and saw a trio of security guards coming towards them. He had a friendly arm around Matt’s shoulders when they arrived, casting robotic-like scans of the group. Matt couldn’t say anything. Just like in science class, there were unspoken rules. Convinced nothing was wrong, the three hulks pushed on, looking for trouble elsewhere.
    Still smiling, Blackwell grabbed him in a headlock. ‘Remember, lose the game on Tuesday or you’ll never play football again.’
    Â 
    Fireworks bloomed in the night sky, turning the Opera House’s white sails into gold then orange then green. Traffic streamed across the Harbour Bridge, its commuters hurrying to enjoy the beginning of the weekend, as another band took to the stage. The music was slower and based on romantic ballads. Couples hugged and swayed together while a small group of single guys yelled out for someone to change the channel.
    â€˜Matty, we’re going for a drink. You want anything?’
    â€˜Nah, I’m right,’ he told Hazem.
    â€˜We’ll be back in five minutes then.’
    After his four mates left to fill their stomachs, Matt checked his watch. Ten o’clock. There was still another two hours to go. Turning round, he stood on tiptoes to look at the Circular Quay train station but he couldn’t see anything. Sigh. And his view of the bus stops was blocked.
    Since the shakedown, his enthusiasm for the concert had soured. He would’ve left if not for his friends. They were having such a great time he didn’twant to wreck it for them. But the more time dragged, the more itchy he got to bail. Bad luck. He wasn’t going to stick around anymore. Matt cut through the crowd towards the food stalls. He’d find his mates and tell them he had an eleven o’clock curfew or something. Free, he headed towards a hot dog vendor when he saw a familiar face. Kelly! She’d just arrived. He was going to call out to her when she spotted who she was looking for and ploughed into the masses. He followed her.
    The trail quickly disappeared and