Falling in love with your best mate's sister

chapter 30 - back up

Author's note: this whole story really has just become about Trent and I'm so sorry. The picture is meant to symbolise the way Alex talks to Craig McRae.

Also author's note: the timeline for this chapter is completely fiction and not consistent with reality and I can make Trent have played any amount of games, it doesn't matter.

"Dad!" Trent cried aghast. "What are you doing here?"

"I came as soon as I could," Alex said. "I've come to help you get back in the team."

Trent just rolled his eyes. "You couldn't even get yourself in the team," he muttered.

"Yes but you're much better than me," Alex insisted, and looked pointedly around the club. "Now, where's the coach's office?"

"There's no point, Dad," Trent mumbled sadly. "They picked Will for the wing position. His dad is on the committee."

"Those scumbags!" Alex shouted angrily. "Who does he think he is? I could be on this committee too—"

"He's a premiership player," Trent put in, despondent.

Alex gritted his teeth. "Well, son, your old man was nearly a premiership player, did I ever tell you that?" Alex boasted. "It was a cloudy overcast day in October—"

"Dad, I know," Trent whined. "You've said this so many times. Collingwood never wins grand finals on overcast days." He sighed.

"Well, if I'd been subbed on earlier—" Alex attempted but stopped at the sullen look that his son was giving him. "Look, Trent, it was your mother's dying wish to see you play for Collingwood."

"She did," Trent grumbled, "All 95 games of them." He grinned cockily at his dad. "I'm nearly about to surpass you, old man."

"Not if you can't get a game ahead of George Ezra," Alex pointed out gruffly. 

Trent dropped his gaze and stared at the floor moodily. "So what's your plan?" He moped.

"Well…" Alex said, thinking hard as he flexed his muscles. "Where's Will's dad? I think I can take him."

"He's the CEO—" cried Trent, looking alarmed. "Dad, no—"

"Don't worry about me, Trent, did I ever tell you about the time outside a mate's place in Richmond on Australia Day?" Alex said, eyes gleaming evilly.

Trent just sighed. "All the time, Dad," he said exasperatedly. "You always omit the part where you were thrown into the gutter and broke your arm."

"Semantics," Alex said, waving a hand dismissively. "Or the time where–"

"Nick Maxwell shoved you in the shoulder during a game and the next day you threatened to settle things in the boxing ring," Trent drawled. 

Alex's eyes sparked. He loved hearing other people talk him up. "Okay I'm ready," Alex said, starting off towards the coach's office. "See you at home, Trenna."

Trent anxiously watched his dad go in search of the coach. 

…

The next day, Trent arrived early to file the mountain of papers in the admin department - sometimes you gotta do extras to get noticed - and opened the door to the men's bathroom.

"Dad?" Trent cried, staring at his father with arms deep into a toilet bowl.

Alex turned to look at his son. An urge to hide his shame overwhelmed him but Alex pushed it down. "I spoke to your coach," Alex said hollowly. "He saw my passion for my family and offered me a job here." Shrugging, a toothbrush held firmly in one hand. "Pays well."

"Dad—" Trent sobbed. He burst into tears. "I was doing this for free before you came."