Chapter 1
Monday
‘MAKE SURE YOU eat all of your lunch,’ Mum shouted as I left the house.
‘OK!’ I replied as Chris grinned at me.
‘That’s exactly what my mum said to me,’ he said.
My name’s Dal and Chris is my best mate. We’ve known each other since infants – he’s like my brother, and we always do everything together.
We walked down my road, Persimmon Drive, and round onto Ethel Street, towards our school, Rushton Juniors. Rushie for short. It was horrible being back at school. The summer holidays went by so quickly! It was like they had never happened. But at least we had football to look forward to. And we
loved
football. I yawned as we got to the school gates.
‘You could get an elephant in that hole,’ said Chris. ‘A whole
herd
of elephants.’
Chris is always making really
bad
jokes. He’s well known for it.
‘A
big
elephant – like my sister?’ I asked jokingly.
‘No, bigger. About the same size as
my
sister!’ replied Chris.
Our sisters, Jas and Veronica, were best friends too. They were both fourteen. Four years older than us. They were
weird
– always talking about boys and make-up. Or sending each other texts and instant messages. At the same time!
‘Good job they ain’t here,’ he said. ‘Veronica would go crazy if she heard me call her an elephant.’
‘I know. Do you remember when you found her mobile phone and sent those texts to her boyfriend? She was really angry,’ I replied.
‘Yeah – she made me do all the household chores for a month so she wouldn’t tell Dad.’
Chris grinned. Then I asked about football – or rather
The Football
. We went to a local youth club and they had an under-elevens football team called the Rushton Reds. We both
really
wanted to play for them this season and the trials were this week.
‘The notice said tomorrow – at the youth club,’ Chris told me.
‘I’ve got new boots,’ I said proudly. ‘The same ones that Steven Gerrard wears.’
‘I got new boots too,’ replied Chris. ‘My dad got them from Rushton Sports in town.’
‘Do you think we’ll get into the team?’ I asked.
Chris nodded. ‘We should do. We’re the best in our school.’
‘I hope we do,’ I said.
I was feeling a bit nervous about the trials. I mean, I knew we were good players – we were great at football. But what if we weren’t good
enough
? What if my mates made it and I didn’t? I’d be gutted. I
had
to play for the Rushton Reds!
‘We’ll be OK,’ said Chris. ‘As long as we play our best, we’ll be fine. And with new boots too. It’ll be
easy
. . .’
I hoped so.
At school we met up with Abs and Jason. They were mad about football too and the four of us were going to the trials together. They were standing by the school gates. Abs smiled at us. His black hair was shaved to his head and there were lines cut into it which started at his temples and ran round to the back of his head. Tramlines, they’re called.
‘We battered them!’ he was saying to Jason, talking about his favourite team, Manchester United.
‘No you didn’t – I saw it on
Match of the Day
. You were lucky. It was never a penalty.’
Jason was the tallest. His blond hair was in a new style too – gelled into stiff spikes. He’s got freckles and a mouth that looks too big for his face. And his ears stick out. But he’s brilliant at football even if some of the other boys call him ‘Jughead’.
‘It was a
definite
foul!’ replied Abs, still going on about the game. ‘It’s not like when Chelsea play. The ref always helps them . . .’
Jason raised his eyebrows at the mention of
his
favourite team. He winked at me and Chris before answering. ‘Just ’cos your team isn’t the only good one any more!’ he said. ‘You should learn to be more humble, Abs.’
‘Bet you don’t even know what that means!’
Jason just shrugged. ‘I don’t. I just heard the manager say it on
Match of the Day
,’ he admitted.
‘Cabbage-faced
Monday
‘MAKE SURE YOU eat all of your lunch,’ Mum shouted as I left the house.
‘OK!’ I replied as Chris grinned at me.
‘That’s exactly what my mum said to me,’ he said.
My name’s Dal and Chris is my best mate. We’ve known each other since infants – he’s like my brother, and we always do everything together.
We walked down my road, Persimmon Drive, and round onto Ethel Street, towards our school, Rushton Juniors. Rushie for short. It was horrible being back at school. The summer holidays went by so quickly! It was like they had never happened. But at least we had football to look forward to. And we
loved
football. I yawned as we got to the school gates.
‘You could get an elephant in that hole,’ said Chris. ‘A whole
herd
of elephants.’
Chris is always making really
bad
jokes. He’s well known for it.
‘A
big
elephant – like my sister?’ I asked jokingly.
‘No, bigger. About the same size as
my
sister!’ replied Chris.
Our sisters, Jas and Veronica, were best friends too. They were both fourteen. Four years older than us. They were
weird
– always talking about boys and make-up. Or sending each other texts and instant messages. At the same time!
‘Good job they ain’t here,’ he said. ‘Veronica would go crazy if she heard me call her an elephant.’
‘I know. Do you remember when you found her mobile phone and sent those texts to her boyfriend? She was really angry,’ I replied.
‘Yeah – she made me do all the household chores for a month so she wouldn’t tell Dad.’
Chris grinned. Then I asked about football – or rather
The Football
. We went to a local youth club and they had an under-elevens football team called the Rushton Reds. We both
really
wanted to play for them this season and the trials were this week.
‘The notice said tomorrow – at the youth club,’ Chris told me.
‘I’ve got new boots,’ I said proudly. ‘The same ones that Steven Gerrard wears.’
‘I got new boots too,’ replied Chris. ‘My dad got them from Rushton Sports in town.’
‘Do you think we’ll get into the team?’ I asked.
Chris nodded. ‘We should do. We’re the best in our school.’
‘I hope we do,’ I said.
I was feeling a bit nervous about the trials. I mean, I knew we were good players – we were great at football. But what if we weren’t good
enough
? What if my mates made it and I didn’t? I’d be gutted. I
had
to play for the Rushton Reds!
‘We’ll be OK,’ said Chris. ‘As long as we play our best, we’ll be fine. And with new boots too. It’ll be
easy
. . .’
I hoped so.
At school we met up with Abs and Jason. They were mad about football too and the four of us were going to the trials together. They were standing by the school gates. Abs smiled at us. His black hair was shaved to his head and there were lines cut into it which started at his temples and ran round to the back of his head. Tramlines, they’re called.
‘We battered them!’ he was saying to Jason, talking about his favourite team, Manchester United.
‘No you didn’t – I saw it on
Match of the Day
. You were lucky. It was never a penalty.’
Jason was the tallest. His blond hair was in a new style too – gelled into stiff spikes. He’s got freckles and a mouth that looks too big for his face. And his ears stick out. But he’s brilliant at football even if some of the other boys call him ‘Jughead’.
‘It was a
definite
foul!’ replied Abs, still going on about the game. ‘It’s not like when Chelsea play. The ref always helps them . . .’
Jason raised his eyebrows at the mention of
his
favourite team. He winked at me and Chris before answering. ‘Just ’cos your team isn’t the only good one any more!’ he said. ‘You should learn to be more humble, Abs.’
‘Bet you don’t even know what that means!’
Jason just shrugged. ‘I don’t. I just heard the manager say it on
Match of the Day
,’ he admitted.
‘Cabbage-faced
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