CHAPTER SEVEN
Travis ran and bounced the football at the same time, making it bounce straight back into his chest, expertly. It starts to lightly rain, the wind picking up. He looks around, hoping the Aboriginal kid turned up, but he was nowhere to be seen. He might look him up again tonight. Perry and Katya still doing his head in.
Some of the guys ask him about the attack at the Cross. He tells them he can’t say anything. The club president comes into the rooms after training, has a word with his star player, asks if he’ll be alright for the game on Sunday. Travis smiles and laughs, says, ‘Sure, boss, good as gold.’
After training, he drives to his place in Bondi, picks up a weeks’ worth of change of clothes, some CDs and DVDs. A small bag of weed from the drawer in his kitchen. Drive
