The F Team

by Rawah Arja

  ‘Keep them up high,’ Huss said, running beside me. ‘The winds are getting stronger. They won’t be able to catch them for much longer.’

  Hunter’s team ran hard and strong, wanting to score first. They gained some metres, but a heavy tackle by PJ saw them make their first mistake. PJ and Ibby jumped in the air in celebration before breaking out into a little dance.

  We broke out of the scrum and Aaron made a run across field. Riley, being first receiver, passed it to Huss who then passed it on the inside to Ibby. Huss broke their defence and managed to get an arm free, offloading the ball to Matt, who ran through the middle to score beside the posts.

  Huss converted. 14–12.

  We went back and forth with our defence, each team giving everything they had. The referee warned Hunter’s team, threatening that a penalty would come our way if they didn’t stay onside. And it didn’t take long before we got one. I wanted to give the boys a break, so I called for Huss to take the two points.

  14–14.

  We were now even and time was ticking. The rain fell a little heavier and the winds were a little stronger but that didn’t stop the drums from beating or our parents yelling out from the sidelines. Hunter and his team had the ball thirty metres out and looked dangerous. I called out to the boys, reminding them to mark their man. They pushed through our defence with their short balls and constant offloads until they got over the line, near the corner post.

  They missed the kick. 18–14.

  Mr Archie signalled to me the time we had left. If we were going to do something, we needed to do it now. I could see the boys felt tired and broken, knowing how hard we defended to still be down one try. Hunter and his team boasted as though they had already won, unaware of what was about to come. I knew if we continued with our set plays, we’d eventually get over the line.

  And we did.

  Aaron caught a high ball that I put up and scored, just inside the corner post. We heard his mum yell so loud that we actually stopped to see what was going on. All the pressure was on Huss to make the kick. He took a couple of breaths, looked up at the posts and stepped back, only to have the wind push the ball so it just missed the target.

  18–18.

  Golden point.

  We were given a five-minute break before we had to head back. Hunter and his team argued while we organised ourselves. Through all the cheering and noise, one thing calmed my nerves.

  The sight of Jamila.

  She smiled with her hands close to her heart, clenching her fists. I stared at her until my heart beat normally again and my thoughts became clearer.

  Mr Archie called for us with only two minutes left. ‘Lads, I believe you can do this. You owe it to each other. You owe it to your brothers.’

  The referee blew the whistle and we wasted no time tackling hard. Even though our muscles were sore and we had no energy left, we didn’t let them gain many metres. On their fifth tackle, they kicked it high in the air, making it difficult for Huss to catch the ball. We all held our hearts in our mouths as the ball landed safely in his arms.

  The crowd cheered.

  All we had to do was hold onto the ball and gain as many metres as possible to have a decent attempt at a field goal. I knew if we wanted metres that Lee was the guy to do it. Riley passed the ball to PJ who barged through, freeing his hand and offloading to Lee who was in support. He made a break but not enough to get us in a good position for an easy field goal attempt. I knew that all of Hunter’s team was going to rush forward when I had the ball since it was our last tackle.

  Riley passed the ball to me. I stared up at the shaky posts. It was too risky. If the posts were shaking about, then there was no way the ball was going to keep its line. I turned to Aaron, who read my mind. While everyone thought I was going to kick for the posts, I dummied and chipped the ball over Hunter’s head. It bounced just enough for Aaron to sprint through, pick up the ball and dive between the posts.

  The crowd jumped in joy and drums beat until the ground shook.

  Aaron ran and tackled me to the ground, celebrating our win against the A Team. The boys jumped in, as well as Mr Archie and Mr Ahmed. We cheered and rejoiced until the referee blew his whistle and made it official that we, the F Team, had won the grand final.

  We turned to see Hunter’s team lying on the ground, shattered they had lost. We walked over and shook their hands, even offering to help them up. Some accepted, some didn’t, but at that point, we didn’t care because we were the champions.

  Elias and Johnny ran onto the field with their camera and recorded the celebrations. The Bulldogs players congratulated us and presented us with the trophy. Aaron and I held it up to a roar from the crowd. Dad waddled up and hugged me, shouting to a bunch of media that I couldn’t possibly be a terrorist if I was this good at footy. And if that wasn’t emotional enough, Huss’s mum had brought Big Haji, who waited by the trees in her new wheelchair. Huss ran up and fell to his knees, kissing her hands. We all huddled around him until she knocked him on the head with her stick, telling him to stop crying and be a man.

  I wanted to hug Jamila but not with my family still around. I knew I’d see her later without the stress of the comp on my shoulders.

  I celebrated with the boys and hugged Huss one more time. ‘If I ever turn my back on you, do me a favour and punch me.’

  ‘And if I ever sell you boys out again, do me a favour and knock me out, too.’

  Aaron and the boys joined us for one last group huddle. The atmosphere was electric. I couldn’t believe that it was finally over.

  We were now more than a team, we were brothers.

  Chapter 39

  One week later, it still felt like a dream. Everyone in Punchbowl was talking about the game like we were celebrities. Ibby had won $245 on the bet he made at the beginning of the comp that we’d be crowned champions.

  ‘Who’s laughing now, ay?’ he said, waving his money. He spent the money on a new mixer for the school kitchen.

  And if I thought the surprises were done and dusted, boy, was I wrong. Aaron’s mum invited everyone back to her house for a post-grand-final celebration lunch. Our families were all there together, and Mum helped her cook the food. Ibby was also in the kitchen, making dessert.

  We sat, we ate, we laughed and then Aaron’s mum called me over to the living room. She handed me a small black box.

  ‘On my signal, give this to Aaron.’

  I weighed the box in my hand. ‘Is this…?’

  ‘I had the car detailed,’ she said with a wink.

  She called everyone over and made Aaron stand with a blindfold.

  ‘I know it’s been a rough year for the both of us,’ she said. ‘But I want you to know how proud I am of you.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said still unsure of what was going on.

  She gave me the signal and took off his blindfold. I gave him the box that had his dad’s collectible 250 GTO Ferrari keys.

  ‘No way!’ he shouted when the garage door opened.

  ‘I couldn’t do it,’ she said wiping her tears.

  They held each other until my dad gave another one of his heaven is beneath your mum’s feet lecture.

  We were up bright and early on the day of the dreaded final evaluation for our school. The men in suits had collected all the evidence they needed and it was now time to face reality. Even though everyone was still riding high from the grand final, we knew that this could all be taken away from us.

  The seniors met with each of us and went through the plan and what was expected of each grade. Tattoos were covered and any weird hairstyles were gone.

  We waited in lines until we saw Mr Archie usher in four women, holding clipboards, dressed in suits. Their heels click-clacked on the concrete as they walked through our lines, writing stuff on their clipboards. Mr Ahmed gave us The Look to signal that under no circumstance should he find out that we were taking secret polls on who was the hottest.

  No. 2 didn’t look too bad…

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bsp; Mr Archie had asked me to be their tour guide, knowing that if a student showed them around and talked about the school, it would be more meaningful. We started in the science lab and for the first time the boys sat on the stools without throwing them out the window or using their slingshots.

  PJ played his guitar with a few other band members in the music room, then we headed off to the legal studies room where we had taped Mr Bottol’s back to the chair, since he always fell asleep. Next came Ibby in the kitchen, demonstrating to some juniors how to roll vine leaves with rice. The women tasted a few but didn’t give much away.

  Huss and Miss K helped Mum and the P&C committee in the gardens while the seniors took turns patrolling the hallways, making sure shirts were tucked in, ties were knotted and pants were buckled. With all the positive attention the competition had brought, we now had 224 new enrolments.

  We walked into the library where you could hear a pin drop. The inbetweeners used the computers appropriately – no games or illegal transactions – while Mr Cameron, our librarian, walked some students around the newly furnished bookshelves.

  Our tour was almost over when we walked towards the main hall, where most of the boys in the school now waited. Mr Archie and Mr Ahmed had no idea that we were planning one last surprise for these women in suits.

  We were sick and tired of telling people that we deserved to have a school of our own, so we decided to show them. Elias and Johnny had compiled all the videos they took over the last few weeks and made a mash-up of our school’s transformation. Not only did the video present our journey as a school and the friendships we had, it also showed that the heart and pride of our school were our teachers who never gave up on us, especially Mr Archie, Mr Ahmed and Miss K.

  The women in suits smiled for the first time.

  Chapter 40

  To Mr Thomas Archibald, students and community members of Punchbowl,

  This letter is in regards to the recent visit of my colleagues and the proposed closure of your school. We understand that this term has been difficult for not only staff and students, but for all community members involved, and wish to advise you of the decision we have made. We have received many letters from parents and community members pledging their support and outlining how the school has helped shape their children’s lives.

  We have been informed in great detail of the changes your school has undertaken to help build a safer learning environment for all. One of the steps that has caught the attention of the wider community was the sports initiative. This has not only made a positive impact on the school’s image, but it is clear to see from the video that has generated much interest online that these boys have developed a real and strong friendship between their two schools. The students involved showed great courage and resilience and we look forward to receiving any news and updates in the next phase of their Canterbury-Bankstown Bulldogs scholarship.

  After careful consideration and deliberation, it is with great pleasure that I am able to announce that the school will remain open, with additional funding provided to its physical education and health programs.

  I want to congratulate not only the students for their efforts, but also the staff for their commitment and determination in providing meaningful and life-changing learning experiences.

  Warm regards,

  Shelly McField

  NSW Department of Education

  And that was that.

  Mr Archie read the letter to us in assembly, which made us jump on our chairs and cheer until we lost our voices. At one point I saw Elias and Johnny crowdsurf until they almost ended up out the window.

  In all the madness and chaos, I had a moment to myself and saw what it meant to so many boys, especially our seniors who now had the opportunity to graduate from this place. Some cried, some fell to their knees and some ran up and down the aisle like they were free.

  We were all finally free.

  Oh wait.

  You’re probably wondering if we ever ended up getting Hunter back?

  Well, we sent Uncle Charlie and his bees in the pink ice-cream truck to stalk him, handing out flyers about converting to Islam.

  These mozzies, they just won’t go away!

  Acknowledgements

  Thirteen.

  That’s the number of times this book was rejected and funnily enough that’s the same number of family members living in my street. Yep, side by side and at every dinner. I came close many times to giving up on this story but my family pushed me to do it. That and because they have this crazy idea that I’m somehow going to be a millionaire and be the Muslim version of J.K. Rowling.

  Someone really needs to tell them how much authors get paid… Before I thank and acknowledge the incredible people who helped me on this journey, I want to start off by saying Al Hamdulillah, Praise Be to God, who blessed me with parents, Mohamad and Raife, that are the backbone to my success. There aren’t enough pages in the world that would suffice in letting them know how much I love them and how proud I am to be their Golden Child.

  I’ve heard many daunting stories of debut authors and their experiences with their publishing team but I couldn’t have asked for a more supportive and brilliant team than the one at Giramondo. Thanks to everyone who helped me, in particular Ivor and Nick, who went above and beyond and brought my story to life. I am forever grateful.

  All this wouldn’t have been possible without the one and only Felicity Castagna to whom I owe much of this journey. She believed in me and my story when no one would and fought for its publication harder than I ever could. People underestimate what it means to be given a chance and Felicity always stood by me and guided me to be the writer I am today.

  My exceptional editor Radhiah Chowdhury helped turn my manuscript into something I could never have imagined. She made me see things in a new light and I will always be indebted to her kindness, her commitment and to her compassion and care.

  To the women in the Finishing School Collective, thank you for being incredibly brave to share your stories and inspire me to be brave enough to share mine. You guys are totally badass!

  To everyone at WestWords, Michael Campbell and Christian Pazzaglia, thank you for opening up your space and creating an environment that encourages new and aspiring writers. We need more places like this that celebrate diversity.

  Randa Abdel-Fattah and Melina Marchetta, my idols, thank you for taking the time to read my book and for your feedback. You are both the reason why a sixteen-year-old young Lebanese girl from Punchbowl believed she could write and share her story.

  This won’t come as a bigger shock than to my teachers at Wiley Park Girls High who put up with me and my awesome pranks. Who would’ve thought the student who accidentally got suspended (a story for another time) is debuting her young adult book? Special thanks to Helen Kyriacou, my Ancient History teacher, who was a totally cool teacher and yet still strict enough that I never jigged her class.

  To my amazing friends, you know who you are, who were there from the very beginning. Thank you for believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

  Thank you to my siblings Ahmad, Feda, Nada, Siffeldeen, Abdul-Rahman and Adam for just being yourselves. You gave me enough content to write a sequel to this book. You are the best people I know and I hope I made you proud.

  There is more to my hometown Punchbowl, a place that is close to my heart, than the endless negative stories. It is here where I learnt the skills to face my fears and it is here where I built up the courage to fight for my voice, to fight for my story. To the men and women of Punchbowl, you inspire me everyday and I hope this book is one that you approve of.

  And finally, this is for everyone with a red line under their name in Microsoft Word. Here’s to our names being permanently Added to Dictionary. May our colourful backgrounds and identities no longer be Ignored.

  The Giramondo Publishing Company acknowledges the support of Western Sydney University in the implementation of its book publishing program.

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p; This project has been assisted by the Commonwealth Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body.