by Rawah Arja
‘Tariq, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were over her,’ he said, finally looking at me. ‘She kept coming around to see Big Haji and because you and I were fighting a lot, I just sort of started to like her accidentally.’
I shook my head. ‘What? Over who? What are you talking about?’
His eyes now widened, like it was so obvious. ‘Mariam? We’ve been seeing each other, but if it makes you this angry, wallah, I’ll axe her now.’
I stared at him.
‘Isn’t that why you’ve been ignoring me?’ he asked.
I sank back into the couch. ‘I know it was you that sent the videos to the news.’
He rubbed his face a few times. In that moment, I believed that my best mate Huss had betrayed me.
‘After everything we’ve been through, after seeing us work like dogs to keep the school open, after seeing all the seniors, your brothers, stressed out because of their HSC, do you even feel bad?’ The more I heard the words out loud, the more I felt the volcano in me about to erupt. ‘You’re off the team. And not that I owe you any favours, but I won’t tell Mr Archie or Mr Ahmed. You will.’
I got up to leave but he stood in the doorway. ‘Please, Tariq. Let me explain.’
‘Move out of my way, Huss. I don’t want to hear your bullshit.’
‘For the sake of Big Haji, please don’t kick me off the team,’ he pleaded once more.
I grabbed him by the shirt. I wanted to make him feel the pain I felt. I knew I couldn’t do it as me now but old Tariq was still alive somewhere. ‘No wonder your dad walked out on you. Who would want a snitch as their son?’
I wanted him to fight back. I wanted him to yell and scream so I could release more of my anger towards him, but he didn’t.
Instead he stared at me, his eyes big and empty and his body weak in my hands. He slid down against the wall and looked up at me like a lifeless doll.
‘Please, Tariq. Don’t do this to me. It’s all I have now.’
‘You did it to yourself,’ I shot back at him.
And Huss, who never cried when he could throw a punch instead, began to sob.
I heard his cries echo in the stairwell as I walked out of the building. I had thought that if I released my anger and made sure Huss felt like crap, somehow, I’d feel better.
But I didn’t.
Chapter 37
I sat in Mr Archie’s office and watched him answer phone call after phone call until finally, the noise stopped. It had been five days since I confronted Huss about the videos. He didn’t show up to training on Tuesday and had told Mr Archie that he needed to stay with Big Haji. He obviously wasn’t going to tell our principal that he was the guy who could have cost us the school.
Mr Archie sat back in his chair and looked up at a photo of Muhammad Ali. ‘Do you know why he was the greatest?’ he asked.
‘Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. He was the best boxer.’
‘His boxing skills were great, lad, but it was what he did off the field that made him unforgettable,’ he said. ‘The choices he made, made him a man of honour and respect. A man who refused to go to war because he believed that love conquered hate and that forgiveness was true happiness. His choices outside the ring made him a legend.’
I stared at Mr Archie for a while, unsure what a history lesson about the greatest boxer ever had to do with anything. ‘I know you haven’t slept in the last couple of weeks, sir, but you sure you’re –’
‘Did you kick Huss off the team?’ he asked abruptly. He sat forward and his eyes caught mine.
My heart began to quicken. ‘Sir, you don’t understand. H-he did –’ ‘I know what he did,’ he retorted. ‘The question is why you thought it was okay to make that decision without giving Huss a chance to tell you his reasons.’
‘I’m the captain!’ I was sick of how everyone thought that Huss had the right to explain himself. ‘It’s my job to make sure that there are no traitors in the team.’
He then pressed a button on his phone. ‘They can come in now.’
Mr Ahmed and Miss K walked in and waited for me to calm down.
‘Is this some sort of intervention? Shouldn’t Huss be here instead of me? He’s the one that needs it!’
Miss K sat next to me and put her hand on my knee until it stopped bouncing. ‘We all make mistakes, but as human beings it’s your job to show compassion to your brothers, especially in a time of need.’
‘Your BBL qualities to focus on this term were to make sure you were supportive and fair,’ said Mr Ahmed. ‘You were neither of them.’
No matter how hard things get, you have to keep these two qualities in your mind, I remembered him saying in our last BBL meeting.
I stood up and kicked the chair back. ‘You knew!’ It was obvious to me now that those qualities were strategically picked because they knew about Huss. I felt the room spin and wanted to shout at the top of my lungs, not understanding why everyone kept defending him.
Mr Archie picked up the chair and waited for me to sit. ‘Huss came to me two weeks ago, after Big Haji had her heart attack. He cried in the very chair you’re sitting in. If you had let him talk, you would’ve known that the videos were exchanged for money from the vulture media companies, exploiting a young boy and his need to get lifesaving medication for his grandma, medication he couldn’t afford on his own.’
‘You know the type of man his dad is,’ Mr Ahmed said. ‘Huss’s father came a few weeks before Big Haji got sick and took whatever money the family had saved and left.’
‘He needed help,’ Miss K said. ‘But he didn’t want to feel embarrassed and ask for money. So he thought he should be the man of the house and go and find ways to get money.’
‘He never meant to hurt anyone,’ Mr Archie finished. ‘We let him down as a school for not picking up on the fact that one of our boys was hurting.’
Their faces blurred and my chest tightened. ‘Why didn’t he come and tell me? He knew I would’ve done anything for him.’
‘He didn’t want you to think he was weak or that he was some charity case,’ Miss K explained.
All I could hear now was the sound of his sobs when I had left him broken in his apartment. When I cut him so deep that he pleaded for forgiveness, pleading that the team was all he had and I had taken it away from him. When I told him that he was to blame for his piece-of-shit dad leaving.
‘I didn’t know,’ I said, trying to keep it together. ‘I didn’t know!’ I leaned over abruptly and vomited into Mr Archie’s trashcan.
‘Ya Allah,’ I said, wiping my mouth, ‘how can I look him in the eye?’
Mr Archie stood up and opened the door. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’
We walked and walked for what felt like an eternity until we saw the boys waiting at Punchbowl Park for training. They stood huddled, and when they broke apart, they revealed Huss standing in the centre.
‘Go on, lad,’ Mr Archie said. ‘Go and make your peace.’
My legs felt heavy and I couldn’t take any more steps. The rest of the team walked over and put their arms around each other, leaving Huss and me in the middle of the huddle to talk it out.
A few tears fell down my face. ‘I left you when you needed me and there’s no excuse for what I did.’
I could hear the boys sniffing and wiping away their tears. I stared at the ground. ‘I’m sorry, boys. I let you down as captain but I swear to God,’ I looked Huss in the eye, ‘I’m going to do everything in my power to be worthy to be in this team and to be worthy of being your brother again.’
‘I never meant to hurt anyone,’ Huss said. ‘Wallah, if I could go back in time, I’d –’
‘Stop,’ I interrupted. ‘If anyone needs to go back in time, it’s me. You had a reason for why you did what you did. I didn’t.’
I turned to the rest of the boys. ‘I know I don’t deserve it, but will you still have me as captain in the grand final?’
Huss smiled. ‘You better be, cos we still have
some unfinished business with Hunter and his team.’
As we gathered together in a group hug, I made a promise then and there that I would never ever let the old Tariq get between my brothers and me.
Chapter 38
‘You nervous?’ Jamila asked me on grand final morning as we walked around the park, holding hands. She had woven pink streamers through her hair. ‘Go F Team!’
While Hunter and his team had the luxury of focusing only on the grand final, we still had the review for our school in a few weeks. There was still a lot to be done and we needed all the help we could get.
The last of the old chairs and tables were emptied from the school and the bars from windows had finally been removed. Our seniors stayed back, scrubbing and cleaning the walls, ready for new paint. The juniors went around and scraped chewing gum off the benches while the inbetweeners hosed down the bathrooms.
The photoshoot we had with Maxine early last term was printed on different-sized murals around our school. She had personally delivered them, which was a good chance for us to apologise for the way we treated her.
‘We’re actually not bad people, I promise,’ Ibby said, dressed in his apron. ‘But we sometimes say dumb things and we’re sorry for being disrespectful.’ He then gave her a small tray of Lebanese desserts he had made in our school kitchen.
There was something in the air now that made us feel a little more worthy, especially since so many people from our families and the community came and helped in whichever way they could. My dad talked to the boys, trying to give them advice about jobs, while Abdul and Saff helped unload some new computers into the library. New carpet was installed and the shelves started to fill with books that Feda and others had covered in plastic. Mum had brought over the Arab Orchestra to help her and the P&C with the school gardens. Uncle Charlie parked his ice-cream truck outside of the grounds and sold heaps of honey jars, donating the proceeds back to our school.
I laced up a pair of brand-new footy boots that had been left on my bed by Feda with the note, ‘Good luck, you brat!’ I ran a few laps to try to clear my mind and relax before the boys arrived. Jamila sat back on the little hill and waved her ‘F Team’ flag when I passed her.
Huss, PJ and Ibby arrived and got straight into running laps, each with their music in their ears. Mr Archie and Mr Ahmed came with Aaron and the Cronulla boys, and a couple of boxes. We stretched and warmed up with our usual drills followed by a run-through of the game plan we had against Team A.
‘The best type of revenge is success,’ Mr Archie reminded us. ‘Put all your energy and focus into this game and not the nonsense off the field.’
Hunter’s team stepped out of their gleaming coach, headphones and sunnies on, all carrying the same red Nike training bags like they were some professional team.
Mr Ahmed threw the ball at PJ’s head. ‘Concentrate.’
‘Sir! You always do that when I’m not looking.’
‘We have a surprise for you lads,’ Mr Archie announced. They opened the boxes to reveal our new pink-and-white jerseys, with our own F TEAM logo, and matching black shorts.
We put on the new jerseys, ready for the team photo, as the crowd began to arrive. I knew Uncle Charlie was here because I heard the ice-cream truck music from down the street. I also knew my family was here, because the smell of kefta on a barbecue filled the air.
The boys from our school arrived in style, with big drums and Arabic music pumping. Some Sharks and Bulldogs players had come and headed straight over to the food. Mr Bennett from Cronulla came not only with the girls’ rugby teams, but busloads of students, too.
Aaron’s mum had come and sat next to my mum, even though her white friends had saved her a seat on the other side. It was a small gesture, but the smile on Aaron’s face told me that it meant the world.
I could feel knots in my stomach as Hunter and his team stood only metres away, taking their official team photo. You could cut the tension with a knife as we waited to take ours, except Riley was missing.
‘Where is he?’ I asked, looking through the crowd. ‘He was just here a minute ago.’
‘He went to the toilet,’ Huss said. ‘He should be back by now.’
And then Riley walked out to a loud cheer.
‘No way, bro!’ Ibby pointed.
Riley, for the first time, wore no headgear, confident enough now to show his white hair. PJ picked him up and held him on his back, hollering and spinning him a few times until Riley’s face was as white as his hair.
‘He’s gonna vomit, ya hayawan,’ Ibby said, trying to help Riley down. ‘His hair will turn whiter.’
Matt stared at him. ‘Really, dude? Whiter?’
‘That’s like saying one day you’ll stop eating,’ Lee said, fixing his glasses. ‘Both things are impossible.’
With three minutes to kick-off, I took one last look at Jamila, who waved and smiled. It was weird seeing her only a few metres away from my mum, who I’m sure if she found out about us, would turn this place into my wedding venue.
Our photo had been taken and now both teams stood face to face, ready to shake hands. As we walked down the line, not only did the A Team barely shake our hands, they mumbled threats under their breath, trying to get under our skin.
We formed one last huddle with Mr Archie and Mr Ahmed before kick-off.
‘This is it, lads,’ Mr Archie said with his arm around Aaron and me. ‘I couldn’t care less if you win or lose, just go out there and do your best.’
We stared at him in disgust.
‘Really, sir?’ Ibby said. ‘You don’t care if we win or lose?’
Mr Archie rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, I’d prefer you to win but I’m serious. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come and the unbreakable brotherhood you’ve formed. You’ve exceeded all our expectations and have set the bar so high.’
‘You go out and show everyone how good you really are,’ Mr Ahmed shouted, geeing us up. ‘No matter how hard they try to break us down, we’re going to rise up each and every single time. Why? Cos we’re the F Team!’
We cheered and hollered, ready to rock and roll.
Mr Archie held out his hand. ‘Alright, lads, hands in, after three. One, two –’
‘The F Team,’ Lee shouted again.
‘No, it’s after three,’ Mr Archie explained.
‘Oh, sorry.’
Mr Archie tried again. ‘Okay. One, two –’
‘The F Team!’ Lee shouted.
Ibby threw the ball on the ground. ‘Ya Allah! AFTER three!’
PJ shook his head in disbelief. ‘A genius, but can’t count to three.’
Aaron and I nodded to each other, ready for the game of our lives. The referee blew the whistle and the crowd cheered as PJ ran hard towards their line. The booming impact made PJ lose the ball in the first thirty seconds.
Well that was an anticlimax.
Hunter high-fived his team mates. ‘That’s just a little taste of what you’re in for.’
They had the ball twenty metres out, but their first set play saw Hunter kick the ball dead because of our solid defence. They had a few more set plays and for a while it felt like all we were doing was defending, until Riley found some space. He ran down through the middle with Lee in support and once he passed the ball, we knew no one was going to catch Lee. I could hear the drums get louder as he got closer to the line and scored.
6–0.
We had a few more opportunities to score in the first half, but that was it. They never lost focus and came at us stronger than ever. PJ tried his hardest to control his anger but another dropped ball had him being called things like butter fingers or coconut by the other team, which only made him play worse. Aaron and I tried to calm him down as the ref warned Hunter’s team to keep it civil.
They produced one of their set plays that saw a kick hit the post and bounce back into play. Hunter picked it up and scored under the posts. He slammed the ball into the ground like he was King Kong.
‘Isn
’t he too short to do that?’ Ibby said, trying to catch his breath. ‘Boys, we need to stick to our game plan,’ I reminded them as we waited for the other side to convert. ‘It doesn’t matter if we make mistakes, we need to forget about them.’
PJ’s back was towards me and no matter how much Aaron or the boys spoke to him, he was at the point where we needed to let him be.
6–6.
Hunter’s team dominated the rest of the half and held onto most of the possession. Aaron and I were their main targets, attacking and rushing in when we needed to kick, which only put more pressure on us. Their repeat sets and offloads killed us and their fifth tackle options always saw them get the ball back. Mr Archie and Mr Ahmed shook their heads in disbelief. The crowd was quiet now. It wasn’t like they were playing the best footy, it was just that we couldn’t get ourselves to complete the sets without dropping the ball. Huss and Riley tried a few strategies, but they fell short of the try line. To make things worse, Hunter’s team was awarded a penalty right on the half-time whistle.
14–6.
We sat on the bench, trying to catch our breath. Mr Archie talked us through the set plays while Mr Ahmed finally managed to get PJ to calm down. ‘Make your family proud and remember that our school needs this more than anything else.’
They were playing some quick footy and it was hard to gain any momentum because of our unforced errors.
‘Lads, it’s only 14–6,’ Mr Archie said, handing out some water. ‘Get back to basics and hold onto the ball.’
Mr Ahmed looked at Aaron and me. ‘I need more from both of you. You need to take control and do what you were doing in training.’
‘It’s hard,’ Aaron said, shaking his head. ‘We’re trying, but the ball keeps getting dropped.’
PJ stood up. ‘Boys, I’m sorry. I’m back now.’
‘You sure?’ I asked.
‘Just watch me.’
Second half.
I knew what I needed to do. The wind picked up, with some light rain falling onto the oval as I kicked the ball high into the air. It swayed from side to side until Scott caught it for the A Team.