Read Online Head of the River by Pip Harry - Free Book Online

It’s all over the shop.’
    Dad skids his bike into the sheds. He’s back from coach­ing the thirds and looks like he’s about to blow up.
    â€˜Uh-oh,’ I say to Penny as we tinker with a few minor changes to our seats, the boat out on slings. ‘Watch this.’
    â€˜You take strongest rowers out of boat and replace them with novice?’ says Dad to Westie, who is looking at crew footage on his iPad as his crew washes down their boat.
    â€˜Good morning to you too, Vasile.’
    Dad points at Sam, who’s quietly circling the boat with a big yellow sponge.
    â€˜This boy fit, yes. He has talent, yes. But technique? Not as good as Cristian or Adam. He needs more time in second boat. Is too early for him.’
    Sam looks embarrassed. He stops cleaning and listens in.
    â€˜It’s not about technique, Vas. It’s about potential.’
    â€˜My son has potential. Why else would he be on scholarship?’
    â€˜He’s also unfit, unmotivated and overweight.’
    â€˜We see. He show you.’
    â€˜In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the coach of the firsts. It’s my decision who’s in and who’s out. And this boy,’ says Westie, motioning to Sam, ‘has the potential to go all the way to Olympic gold medals. Don’t tell me you don’t see that too.’
    â€˜I see he’s not ready,’ says Dad.
    â€˜I see a parent who needs to take a step back,’ says Westie.
    The two of them eye each other in cold silence. Dad puts his hands up and takes an exaggerated step backwards.
    â€˜Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you lose Head of River.’
    The seconds come in and I wait for Adam to get ready for school so we can go in together. I need to see he’s all right. As he walks over to me I notice he’s not wearing red socks anymore. He’s already been stripped of that first crew honour.
    â€˜Hi Leni,’ he says. As if this is any morning. Not the morning after last night.
    â€˜How are you?’
    â€˜Fine,’ he says with a tight smile. ‘A bit tired.’
    â€˜Really? Are you okay to row?’
    He’s wearing the dorky straw hat that’s part of our school uniform. Tipped at an angle, it hides his injury perfectly. I want to tell him not to pretend there’s nothing wrong.
    â€˜Yeah. No worries.’
    â€˜I’m worried,’ I say.
    I reach for his arm and he lets me look him in the eye for precisely three seconds, all the hurt and pain from last night bubbling up. Then he puts the fake smile back on.
    â€˜I have a plan to get Cris and I back into the firsts. You’ll see. It won’t be long. Come on. I’ll treat you to an egg and bacon roll from the deli. To say thanks for last night.’
    Just like that, Adam is back in control. All the frayed bits pulled together with his pressed blazer and perfectly aligned tie. He holds my hand and laces our fingers so tightly it’s uncomfortable. I wiggle my fingers free and put my arm around his waist.
    â€˜Egg and bacon roll and a chai latte.’
    â€˜Deal,’ he says, leaning in and kissing my neck lightly.
    Cristian
    Adam’s waiting for me in the common room at recess. Both of us are still stinging from our training row with the seconds. The crew might have been hot stuff last week, but with two new rowers in the middle of the boat, everyone has to find their feet again. We were out of sync and didn’t get their in-jokes.
    â€˜Let’s walk, Poppa.’
    Adam steers me out the school gates to the street.
    â€˜Hey man, is your head feeling okay?’ I ask.
    Adam has hidden his wound under his school hat, but I still know it’s there. Underneath all the school-prefect, straight-A front, he seems unhappy. Stressed.
    â€˜I don’t want to talk about that.’
    â€˜Sure?’
    â€˜Positive.’
    This is how it was with Adam. He was the leader and I was the puppy dog.
    â€˜The