Winning Touch

by Ellyse Perry

  ‘You’ll see her at recess,’ Jazz said. ‘Don’t worry about Charlie. She can cope.’

  I’m not so sure, thought Ellyse. But she smiled at Jazz and went to class.

  At recess Ellyse looked everywhere for Charlie without success. Sheridan and Carla hadn’t seen her either. Jazz had gone to the auditorium to collect her script and performance notes. Ellyse was running out of places to look. She had to give up when the bell rang, but at lunchtime she went looking again and eventually found Charlie in the back of the library, reading.

  ‘There you are,’ Ellyse said.

  ‘Here I am,’ Charlie said, her eyes pink-rimmed.

  ‘I’m sorry you didn’t get in.’

  ‘Oh well,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ll live. Maybe.’ She banged the book shut. ‘I need to do something. Come on, let’s go and kick a soccer ball around.’

  When they got to the field, Hu and several other girls in the team were already there, so they played a game of three on three, fast and hilarious. After twenty minutes they were all puffing and laughing too much to keep going.

  ‘We missed you last week,’ Hu told Ellyse. ‘You’d better not get detention again. Ms Beattie said this week’s team is top dog.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Ellyse said. ‘I hate not playing.’

  As they walked to their fifth-period classes, Charlie said, ‘What if Jazz pulls out of the soccer team because of the musical?’

  ‘She can’t!’ Hu said, horrified. ‘She’s our goalie.’

  Charlie shrugged. ‘She might not care about that. There’s a lot of things Jazz doesn’t seem to care about anymore.’

  ‘It’s this stuff with her mum and dad,’ Ellyse replied softly. ‘She’ll be the same old Jazz again soon, when things settle down.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  I hope so too. ‘Let’s ask her if she wants to go out again Friday night.’

  ‘Okay.’ Charlie gave Ellyse a nudge. ‘One good thing about not being in Cats is that I can keep playing touch with you.’

  Ellyse nudged her back. ‘That’s super-cool, for me anyway.’

  And it was great to see Charlie smiling again.

  The week flew by, and Ellyse was relieved that everything went well. She even got 82 per cent on her history essay, as well as a B+ for her geography project. Charlie and Jazz seemed to still be best friends; Ellyse knew Charlie never held a grudge.

  Thursday night at touch training, Ben fronted up with a box of red and black players’ shirts that smelled mouldy even before they pulled them out to check sizes.

  ‘Ugh, do we have to wear these?’ Charlie asked.

  Half of the shirts had numbers that were peeling off or were streaked with mould, and they were all faded and worn.

  ‘This is it, sorry,’ Ben said. ‘This is what the club gave me.’

  Ellyse picked up a shirt with the number 99 on it. It wasn’t so big that it would look like a dress on her, and it was faded but not actually mouldy. She tried it on over her T-shirt and shorts. ‘This’ll do me.’

  ‘See?’ Ben said. ‘Just look through the box, kids, and find the least horrible shirt.’

  Charlie found a shirt with no number at all. ‘At least it’s kind of clean.’

  Finally, everyone in the team had found a shirt that more or less fit them. The boys weren’t worried about the mould; there had been a tussle over who would wear the number 1 shirt until Ben pointed out it was actually 11 with one of the numbers faded to nothing. Rocky said 11 was his lucky number and claimed it for himself.

  ‘Right,’ Ben said. ‘Game tactics. We’re new, so let’s not expect miracles.’

  ‘Do we have a name?’ Sam asked. ‘Can we be the Ravens?’

  ‘We’re in the competition just as Hornsby,’ Ben said. ‘I think someone else is called the Ravens.’ He consulted his sheet. ‘Yep, sorry.’

  ‘How about the Hornsby Devils, then?’ Rocky said.

  ‘Sure,’ Ben said. ‘Now, here’s what I want you to focus on today …’

  After sprints and drills, they played a game. At the whistle, Ellyse tapped and then passed. Rocky took it and dodged, got touched, and the ball came back to Ellyse. She passed to Emma 1, and on it went. Some of the players were so keen that they were being penalised for being offside every few minutes and Ben had to have a word with them. At the next tap, Ellyse and Charlie passed and jinked several times when, suddenly, a gap opened up in front of her. She put on a burst of speed and got through to make a touchdown.

  Yay! Touchdown without the mud.

  Ben soon began rotating the players, and when it was Ellyse’s turn to sit out, she made sure to watch Charlie. It was like Charlie had eyes in the back of her head. She passed at just the right time to avoid being nabbed, and Emma 2 got a touchdown. She jumped around and shouted, ‘Yahoo!’ It was her first ever!

  ‘Excellent game,’ Ben said, when they’d gathered around him afterwards. Some of the boys had long faces and Ben patted one of them on the back. ‘You all played really well and your best will definitely get better. That’s what training is for.’ He went on to explain the mini tournament rules.

  Charlie looked at Ellyse. ‘I don’t want selectors watching me. No regional team for me.’

  ‘Why not?’ Ellyse replied. ‘It’d be so awesome.’

  Charlie kicked at a pebble on the ground. ‘I don’t know if I want to try out for something else. What if I miss out again?’

  Ben and Dad were over by the car, collecting the mouldy shirts off everyone.

  Dad would say you have to try anyway, but Charlie’s hurt right now. I’m not sure what to say. ‘Well … you can’t not try.’

  ‘It’d be safer,’ Charlie said stubbornly.

  Ellyse threw her arm around Charlie. ‘Yeah, but think how boring that would be.’

  Charlie laughed. ‘I guess you’re right.’ But she still sounded doubtful.

  They pulled off their grubby, faded shirts and handed them back to Ben.

  Oh please, Ellyse thought, whoever you people are at the tournament next week, please, please pick Charlie!

  Just when Ellyse was starting to feel that she was juggling everything okay, a bigger problem popped up, seemingly out of nowhere.

  Charlie and Jazz were fighting.

  Jazz had spent Monday lunchtime at the first rehearsal and was dismayed to find she didn’t have a Jellicle cat part after all.

  ‘I’m just general chorus or something,’ she complained when she met Ellyse and Charlie after school. ‘It’s not fair. I should have a part. I could even be Electra or Etcetera.’

  ‘But at least you’re in it,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Oh, you don’t understand anything!’ Jazz snapped, and ran off to her mum’s car.

  Charlie took a deep breath. ‘Jazz is turning into a cow.’

  ‘She’s just going through a hard time,’ Ellyse said quickly.

  Charlie shook her head and walked off, leaving Ellyse to stare after her.

  This is the pits. I so wish I could fix it. She tried texting her friends later that evening to smooth it over, but Jazz texted back: Charlie’s just jealous! And Charlie texted: Jazz only thinks about herself.

  At Callinan soccer training on Tuesday, they barely spoke to each other. Jazz stood in the goal with her arms folded, humming songs from the show. Even Ms Beattie noticed, and on Wednesday afternoon before the game, she said, ‘Remember, girls, on the field we play as a team and back each other up. I don’t care what else is going on. Here we support each other.’

  Jazz and Charlie did play well – up until the last five minutes of the game. The opposing team’s striker got past Charlie and Hu, dribbled the ball away from Ellyse’s side and kicked for goal. Jazz reached for the ball and got her fingers to it, but it went past her into the goal. It meant the game was a draw at 1–1.

  ‘Could’ve tried harder than that,’ Charlie muttered, and both Jazz and Ms Beattie heard her and glared. As soon as the final whistle blew, Ms Beattie called the team to gather arou
nd for a talk.

  ‘Very good game, girls,’ she said. ‘You did well to keep them to a draw.’ She gave Charlie another sharp look. ‘Now, I have some news. I’ve deliberately not told you about the ladder – I wanted you to play for the enjoyment and to learn skills. But …’ She grinned around at them. ‘You have made it into the semifinals.’

  ‘Woo hoo!’ Everyone cheered, and Ms Beattie’s face turned bright pink.

  ‘I don’t want anyone to panic,’ she continued. ‘The semi is next Wednesday, so we’ll train as usual. Okay, maybe we’ll have an extra session or two. Roar, Callinan!’

  ‘Rooooaarrrrr!’ the girls shouted.

  As they were taking their boots off, Ellyse couldn’t help noticing that Ms Beattie was having a quiet talk with Jazz and patting her on the back.

  Charlie noticed too. ‘I was a bit mean, wasn’t I? Maybe I should say sorry to Jazz. I think she heard me.’

  But Jazz left the field straight after, and when Charlie went to look for her, she was nowhere to be found.

  ‘Hmph,’ Charlie said. ‘Still being a cow.’

  Ellyse felt the rock growing in her stomach. How can my best friends suddenly be enemies? She felt helpless to fix it, and every day it was getting worse.

  As she and Hu were walking over to their dads, Ms Beattie called out to them. ‘I have something you two might want to think about,’ she said, handing them a coloured flyer. ‘Talk to your parents and see what they think.’

  Ellyse thanked her and shoved the flyer into her kitbag without looking at it. It was probably soccer boots on sale or something. Hu waved goodbye and was soon in an animated conversation with her dad. Maybe he thinks we should have won? Oh well …

  ‘For someone whose team made it to the semis, you look mighty miserable,’ Dad said on the way home. ‘What’s up?’

  Ellyse sighed. ‘Jazz and Charlie are fighting. I wish I could do something.’

  Dad was quiet for a few moments. ‘Why don’t you have them both over to play ping-pong on Friday night? I’ll even spring for chips and fruit juice.’

  ‘And chocolate?’ Ellyse said hopefully.

  ‘Maybe just a little bit,’ Dad said with a smile.

  That’s a great idea! I can’t wait to ask them. But then she thought more about it. What if one of them refuses to come if the other one does? Who do I ask first?

  Ugh. This was getting complicated. In the end she decided not to tell either Charlie or Jazz that’d she’d invited them both – they could find out when they arrived. She saw Jazz first and asked her.

  ‘Sure!’ Jazz said. ‘I love ping-pong. Is your dad going to let us buy the snacks?’

  ‘I guess so,’ Ellyse said.

  ‘Let’s go to the supermarket after school, then,’ Jazz said.

  ‘Okay.’ One down, one to go. At recess, to her relief, Ellyse was able to get Charlie alone and ask her too.

  ‘Cool,’ Charlie said. ‘I love ping-pong.’

  It was all arranged. Ellyse would have an hour to go to the supermarket with Jazz, and by the time they were ready to play, Charlie would be there. Still, it was hard not to worry about what might go wrong.

  It was a relief to play touch on Thursday afternoon with Charlie and run all over the field, thinking only of the ball and who to pass it to. Soccer training was the same. Ellyse put all her concentration into playing, and if thoughts of Charlie and Jazz crept in, she shook them out again.

  It was great that Dad understood the situation, and he promised to keep an eye on them. ‘Can’t have World War III breaking out,’ he said with a laugh.

  ‘Dad, it’s serious!’ Ellyse said.

  ‘I know. It’ll be fine, I’m sure.’

  I’m glad you think so!

  Jazz brought extra clothes to school on Friday and got changed out of her uniform at Ellyse’s house, putting on a gorgeous purple T-shirt. ‘Do you like my new top?’ she asked.

  Ellyse noticed the label was from an expensive shop but she didn’t mention it. ‘I love the colour. Come on, let’s grab our jackets and hit the supermarket.’

  They walked up and down the aisles with a shopping basket, each choosing their favourite flavour of chips.

  Jazz groaned when Ellyse bought orange juice. ‘I need something fizzy,’ she said, and headed off to the next aisle. Ellyse added some apple juice and went to look for Jazz. As she rounded a display of cereal, she stopped. Jazz had passed the soft drinks and was standing by the chocolate shelves. She put something in her jacket pocket and then picked up a big bag of M&M’s. She turned and saw Ellyse. ‘Hey, these are yum. Can we get them?’

  ‘Sure.’ Ellyse stood uncertainly, watching as Jazz chose a can of soft drink and put both in the basket. Jazz’s jacket was loose and it was impossible to tell if there was something in her pocket or not. Ellyse swallowed hard. If I ask her and I’m wrong … If I say nothing and she gets caught … In the end, she said nothing, but even Jazz noticed something was up.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Ellyse said, and checked her watch. ‘Let’s get out of here. I’m hungry.’

  Back home, Mum gave them glasses and bowls for their snacks. ‘I’m making pasta too,’ she said. ‘Ellyse, this won’t be a late night – you’ve got soccer tomorrow.’

  Ellyse rolled her eyes at Jazz. ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘Parents are such a pain,’ Jazz said as soon as they were in the garage. ‘Do you hate your mum?’

  ‘No! Of course not.’

  ‘I hate mine,’ Jazz said. She picked up the ping-pong paddle and smacked the ball across the net. The ball disappeared behind a cupboard and, while she was searching for it, the doorbell rang.

  ‘I’ll get that,’ Ellyse said. That’ll be Charlie. Oh, I hope this works.

  She fetched Charlie and led her to the garage. ‘Jazz is here,’ she whispered at the very last moment. Surprise flashed across Charlie’s face, but it was happy surprise, not dismay.

  ‘Hey, Jazz,’ Charlie said. ‘Wow, I love your top. That is so cool.’

  Jazz looked slightly stunned but, to Ellyse’s relief, after a second she smiled. ‘Thanks. So who’s playing first?’

  ‘You two start,’ Ellyse offered. ‘I’ve been playing all week.’ That wasn’t actually true, but it got Charlie and Jazz hitting the ball to each other and laughing, and that was what counted. After a few minutes, Ellyse began to relax. It’s going to be all right. Thank goodness.

  After they’d played each other several times and finished all the chips, Ellyse’s mum called them in to eat pasta. Then it was time to go home. Ellyse picked up Jazz’s jacket for her and knew immediately that there was a chocolate bar of some kind in the pocket. She froze.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘I … um …’ Ellyse felt like she was choking, but she couldn’t keep it to herself anymore. ‘I think Jazz has been shoplifting,’ she blurted out.

  ‘What?’ Charlie’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘No, I –’

  Just then, Jazz came in. ‘What’s going on? What are you talking about?’

  Charlie threw up her hands. ‘Ellyse says you’ve been shoplifting.’

  No, I didn’t want to say it like that. I didn’t mean it. I take it back!

  But it was too late. Jazz’s eyes filled with tears and her voice shook. ‘I thought you were my friend. I thought you’d always stick up for me. I hate you.’ She stormed out, slamming the front door.

  Charlie bit her lip and slowly put on her own jacket. ‘You shouldn’t have said that, Ellyse. I’m sure you’re wrong.’ She left quietly but the door clicking shut sounded to Ellyse like a cannon booming.

  I’ve made everything ten times worse, and now it’s me they’re not talking to. She ran to her room and huddled under her doona, the rock rolling over and over in her stomach, but she didn’t cry.

  Four words repeated in her head: Jazz didn’t deny it.

  The thought was no comfort at all.

>   Ellyse was so quiet on the way to soccer on Saturday morning that Dad wouldn’t let her out of the car until she told him what was wrong. It took a few minutes to find the words. She felt like just saying it again would make Jazz hate her ten times more. ‘The worst thing is,’ she said, ‘I’m still not totally sure. What if I’m wrong?’

  ‘I suspect you’re right,’ Dad said. ‘And that’s really sad. It sounds like Jazz might be doing this because of what’s going on at home.’

  ‘And I can’t do anything about that,’ Ellyse said gloomily.

  Dad kissed the top of her head. ‘You were trying to help.’

  ‘Fat lot of good that did!’

  ‘Give it a bit of time and see what happens,’ Dad said. He pointed at Jamie and the others doing their stretches. ‘Get out there and have some fun, and try not to think of Jazz for the next couple of hours.’

  ‘Okay.’ Ellyse joined Jamie and warmed up, then got ready to play. The Dolphins were a good team, and their strikers were excellent dribblers and kickers. The striker on Ellyse’s side was a tall boy with feet that moved like lightning, and he got past Ellyse several times. The third time he scooted around her, he went on and scored a goal. She began to watch him closely and realised he was an expert at stepping over the ball, doing it so fast and turning at the same time that he bamboozled everyone.

  What can I do to stop him? After a little while Ellyse could see a pattern – the boy always went left, then right, then around, dribbled forward and did it again. Next time he came towards her with the ball, she ignored his left move and went to his right, scooping the ball out from in front of him and kicking it away to Jamie. That fixed him. For now, anyway. But we’re still down 0–1.

  Then it was half-time and she gulped down some water. Vinnie came over to talk to her. ‘Good work on that striker. Nice timing.’

  Ellyse glowed inside. Vinnie only praised someone when he meant it.

  Just before they went back on the field, Vinnie moved her into the centre. ‘I want you to focus on their strikers, especially the boy you beat. Watch what he does and don’t be afraid to tackle him.’ When he saw Ellyse pale, Vinnie added, ‘This isn’t Josh Bolt. This is a very good player that you have to learn how to defend against.’