Page 125 of Try Line Hearts
Eli sat on the edge of the table, phone in his hands, thumb hovering.
Lucas leaned back in one of the chairs, arms folded loosely, eyes fixed on nothing. He felt hollowed out, like everything important had already happened and he was still waiting to be told what it meant.
Eli’s phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen and smiled, immediate and soft.
“Right,” he murmured. “Here we go.”
He accepted the call.
The screen filled with faces — too many to fit properly. A living room in Auckland, already bright with morning light, and behind those faces a blur of movement and noise: people still milling, someone waving from too far back, a hand darting into frame to throw up a peace sign, laughter spilling in the background like the party hadn’t fully ended.
Mereana front and center, hair pulled back, eyes shining. Hemi just behind her, arms folded, trying and failing to look stern. Aunties with intricate facial tattoos leaned in from the edges. Cousins waved from somewhere off-camera.
“Eli!” his mum said, voice breaking immediately. “You alright, my boy?”
“I’m good,” Eli said, laughing. “I’m really good.”
“We saw you,” an auntie said teasingly. “All of it.”
Kiri shoved her way into frame, grin feral. “You owe me money. I told you.”
“She’s been shaking us all down!” A cousin called from behind her.
Eli snorted. “You never shut up, cuz.”
Lucas stayed where he was, unsure where to put himself, until Mereana’s gaze shifted.
“And you must be Lucas,” she said.
Lucas startled.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically, then winced at himself.
Eli rolled his eyes. “Don’t ‘ma’am’ my mum.”
Mereana smiled warmly. “Thank you,” she said, simply. “For loving our boy.”
Lucas swallowed. “I—yes. Always.”
Hemi nodded once, solemn and approving. “You stood up,” he said. “That matters.”
Someone blew a kiss. Someone else shouted something about visiting Ireland “once the flights stop costing an arm and a leg.”
They talked for a few more minutes — about the match, about sleep, about how ridiculous the Irish weather looked on television. Laughter came easily. Pride sat unhidden.
When the call ended, the room felt quieter for it.
Eli set his phone down and exhaled, smiling to himself.
“Right,” he said. “That’s the whanau sorted.”
He looked at Lucas. “You hear anything from home?”
Lucas hesitated.
He’d been avoiding his phone. Feeling it like a weight in his pocket. He pulled it out now, screen lighting up the room.
