Friendship on Fire (18 page)

n Wednesday morning, the common room was swarming with students. I waded through the crowd to see what the fuss was about. As I got to the front of where everyone was looking, someone struck a chord on an electric guitar. The common room cheered like its own entity, while someone on a set of drums tested their sound. The boy on the bass guitar thumped his strings so hard I felt the vibrations through my heart. Lastly, Jarrell, one of the few boys at school from the islands, picked up a karaoke-looking microphone and started calling, ‘testing, testing' into it.

What was going on? I hadn't organised any school activities. Mr Head was going to freak. And blame me.

Yes this was a brilliant idea. And it was fun. It was good variety for the seniors. But old people didn't appreciate good, loud music. How could I shut this down? Where was Roman when I needed him?

I didn't have time to make a decision; the boys struck their first chord together and Jarrell nodded to the band. They started playing the introduction to a punk song that I recognised from the radio. Couldn't they have chosen something from Mr Head's time?
The Beatles? Bach?

I could hear the lecture playing in my head. Wicked. Worldly. Brazen. Undisciplined. Disrespectful.

I rubbed my temples.

The music was very good and the year twelves loved the surprise. Some of the juniors had snuck in but were forced to stand on chairs in the corners as there was no way the seniors were going to let them take their positions moshing up the front.

Before I could see who it was, someone grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to the back of the common room.

Roman put his hand to my ear like a cone and shouted, ‘Did you do this?' He was smiling.

‘No. I wonder who did.'

‘Doesn't matter. This is cool. We should do this once a week,' he cheered.

‘Of course
we
like it. We have a life. What are we going to do when Head finds out? Surely he's in his office right now plotting our expulsion,' I shouted back into his ear.

Roman did something unexpected. He put his left hand on my hip and shouted in my ear, ‘Don't worry, I'll talk to him about it and sort it out. Don't stress.'

I couldn't help it. I stared at his hand on my hip, although it wasn't such a big deal. What surprised me is that it burnt like an iron where he touched, sending electric pulses down my right leg.

‘Uh,' I stuttered back to him. ‘Thanks.'

‘No worries. I know how to handle him. Enjoy yourself.' He released me from his clutch and ran out of the common room.

The boys played two more songs and Mr Head never showed. Students booed when they started packing up their gear. Jarrell and the band bowed to the audience and promised more later.

I ran to catch up with Roman on the way to class and demanded to know what he said to make Mr Head refrain from turning the school's power off to spite us.

He smiled smugly and said, ‘Need to know basis only.'

I was about to protest but I lost sight of him in class. It was too late to ask now. How did he do everything right?

‘Listen up, guys. First game is on Sunday. Better get your act together and your fitness up or you'll be kept off. Three laps of the oval. Go,' coach Corby shouted. He was tough, but fun. Best and worst of all, he liked to win. When we didn't win, he was a sore loser. A very, sore loser.

I ran to keep up with Treston's back. Three laps? I could do two, badly, but the third would surely kill me.

Predictably, Nate ran by himself, on a par with Treston's speed, if not faster. He was clearly fit enough to run for two games and I knew Treston would want to keep him on for the whole of Sunday if Nate was up for it.

The whole competition was supposed to be fun, being a mixed organisation, but it didn't stop the boys from taking their game seriously. Although Corby was technically the coach, he still had to work with Treston as the captain. It was a joint effort that often ended up in an amusing struggle for power by both competitive men. Having Nate on the team would only perpetuate the unspoken rivalry for the title of alpha male of the football pride.

I giggled. Men were so entertaining.

On the third lap Nate subtly dropped back and jogged at my speed.

‘Go,' I puffed. ‘You need to come first to impress Corby.'

I felt embarrassed at my own unfitness. I tried to find time for running and exercise but it was hard to maintain. This was the start of the season; I didn't want to show Nate such a weakness. It might be unattractive to him.

Nate smirked. ‘I don't need to impress anybody. If they don't give me a run that's their problem,' he claimed, barely puffed. ‘They have to decide if they want to win badly enough, I suppose,' he added, grinning at me.

‘You are so up yourself,' I laughed. ‘It's funny. Is there anything you aren't confident about?'

He thought for two seconds. ‘No.'

‘Well I hate to disappoint you but there are a lot of things I'm not confident about. It's a pity we can't all be as cocky as you,' I teased.

‘What can I say? If you're awesome, don't hold it back.' He sprinted the last fifty metres back to our base.

After stretching, we started drills. Not playing for a few months weakened my ankles and I felt like a weedy girl until I could kick properly. In fact, I wasn't much better than the two other girls on our team.

For the last fifteen minutes of training, we played a scratch match using only half the field. I generally played the position of midfield, assisting the strikers in their quest for glory and ‘world domination' (Treston's words). Nate was a striker. So was Treston.

Nate walked me to Treston's car and helped put our equipment in his boot. I remembered the situation with his parents and asked him how things were going.

He became uncomfortable and replied, ‘I'm not sure, to be honest. Dad was pretty quiet on Sunday and he's been working a lot since then. I haven't had a chance to ask him what's going on. Guess he'll tell me when he knows something.'

‘So you haven't heard from your mum?'

‘Only a text message. She's at grandma's with Amelie. Said she loves and misses me,' he shrugged. ‘It's not my business.'

‘Not your business? Of course it is. It affects your life, especially when you're trying to finish year twelve. I'd be demanding some answers, if I was you.'

‘Our family isn't comfortable with confrontation,' he said. ‘It's not that simple. I'll let you know if I find out something new.' He saw Treston was getting his CDs ready in the car and grabbed me around the waist and gave me a long, passionate kiss goodbye.

‘To what do I owe the honour?' I asked, breathless.

‘Being hot. And playing soccer. And being hot,' he laughed, and jogged to his car after shouting goodbye to Treston. He didn't have the M3 tonight, I noticed with a smile.

I touched my lips where he had kissed them, relishing the gentle tingling remains. Treston pulled a face at me but said nothing on the way home about our pash so close to his personal space.

I watched Dad shove a knife in the VCR through bored, defeated eyes. ‘Dad, do you know when Mum will be home?'

‘Call her mobile. I think she wants to do food shopping after work,' he suggested.

What a great idea. I needed to get out of here before Dad started measuring my room and changing my furniture. Besides, it had been a while since I did some proper shopping. Maybe Mum would let me look at a few clothes shops.

I sent her a text message:

Mum. I'm so bored. Come get me before food shopping please?

She wrote back,

Home in ten. Be ready.

‘Don't electrocute yourself,' I murmured to Dad on my way out.

We hit up Twin Rocks Central Shopping Centre. Unfortunately, a date with Coles had to come before clothes shopping. Killing my excitement, Mum warned me that we only had about half an hour before the peas would start to melt.

She put up with me fussing and trying on clothes in a few stores, but too soon she informed me it was time to go home. I pouted. She laughed.

‘But I never get to try things on properly,' I whinged.

‘Neither do I. Let's go get dinner.' She put her arm around my waist and pulled me away from my destiny.

We were on our way out when I saw a sign in the most expensive underwear shop in the centre. Red posters covered the front glass and hung around the inside of the store. Customers were banging their heads on the posters hanging from the roof as there were so many of them. Fifty per cent off everything in store. Tonight only. Mum read my mind before I had to use my mouth.

‘Five minutes, Daisy,' she warned, and I bolted into the store.

Mum picked up a gorgeous set of bra and knickers and eyed it admiringly. I carefully watched her reaction. If she smiled but was quiet, I was in for a chance.

She handed me the set and said, ‘Try these on.'

I scooted into the change room and put them on. It was a light pink t-shirt bra with small white love hearts on it, with matching hipster bottoms. I stuck my head around the curtain and tried to ‘psst' Mum. She didn't hear me. I had to call. How awkward.

‘Mum
,
‘ I called, and she turned around (along with every other mother in the store) and made her way over to me.

I was clutching the curtain up to my neck, giddy with excitement.

‘Show me,' she ordered.

‘But Mum,' I pleaded. ‘Can't you just see the top half?'

She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine.'

I showed her the bra and looked away at the same time. It was so embarrassing.

‘Gorgeous,' she said, smiling. ‘Take it off and hand it over. I'll pay, you get dressed.'

Thrilled, I did as she asked and met her at the counter. It was about time I dressed more like a woman. I was going to be eighteen soon.