In Time

Chapter 1 (unedited)

Yet another failure.

A play Coach called the Americana. Not sure if he meant the coffee or the culture, but Ruaridh, or Rory as everyone called him, had once again mucked up the play. Rugby was still a foreign language to him, even after twenty bloody years.

He stretched his neck from side to side, pops and creaks as he did. For the hundredth time, he thought perhaps he wasn't made for rugby. Maybe it wasn't in his blood like his father insisted. Maybe there was some leap in generations or something, the ball gene bouncing haughtily over the top of his head. All the weights, the healthy breakfast shakes, rugby marathons on video, eating and breathing rugby, and still no results. At least not what was expected of him.

"Rory!"

"Huh?"

"Bro, grab that other side of the table and help me move it along that wall."

"Oh, sure, Del."

They shuffled and maneuvered around the exercise equipment in the weight room of Crunch Fitness Gym. It was a Monday, one of the busiest nights of the week, and the reason they were here to do a bit of recruitment for the Blues. The bigger the pool of men to play, the better chance of success.

"Right along here, Rory, boy."

Del placed his side of the table first, and then Rory followed. "Where's Irish?"

"He probably waited for Gillian to get home from work for a bit of humpty-dumpty, but he'll be here. Come on, let's grab the chairs."

Rory followed Del back the way they had come. "I kind of miss him at the house."

Del gave him a look over his shoulder as though he was completely daft. "We're talking about the same Irish, right? Moody fucker that is as fun as a torn ligament?"

"He's gotten better. You have to admit."

Del handed Rory three folding chairs and then collected the box with all their flyers, sign-up sheets, and banner. "Mate, that's true. When he first came, never thought I'd see the day."

"Who's that?"

Both turned to see Irish standing in the hall with a gear bag over his shoulder.

"Ah, speak of the devil. Help Rory with one of those chairs, mate, and give us a hand setting up."

Irish dropped his bag where he stood and offered a hand to Rory who refused. "Nah, you're good. Need the extra training. I got this."

Padraig shook his head. "Do you ever stop, like?"

"Not until I get there." Rory shimmied past both the lads, ignoring the look that Irish had thrown Del. He'd get there. Any day now and things would click, all come together. His rugby stars would align, and he'd be a streak of lightning on the pitch. This Cameron would go all the way to the cup, just like his da wanted. He'd be a blur on the field, dodging, spinning, and jumping...

Jumping? Eh? Dinnae ken where that came from.

Rory shook his head to rid himself of the unwanted and helped Del hang the Blues banner across the front of the table. On the other side, the three of them took a chair with Del in the middle.

They had barely sat down when a couple of girls walked by the table. A blonde with big tits in a tight gym shirt and leggings slowed as she passed and smiled. Her eyes flickered over all three before they settled on Del.

"Good evening, ladies, you want to play rugby?" Del waved a flyer at them, his smile bright white against his darker skin.

Her friend with short, spiky hair and more muscles than Rory tugged on the blonde's hand until she moved again.