Read Online The Life and Times of Gracie Faltrain by Cath Crowley - Free Book Online Page A

soundtrack. Whenever we kick, someone’s just a second too slow to gain possession.
    I’ve never felt like I did on the field today. Lost. Like my luck had completely run out. I hated the feel of all those faces in the crowd burning into me, watching me lose. I feel like I’ve stepped off the edge of something and below me there are acres and acres of black. I’m in that dream again but I’m not flying. I’m falling through currents of dark. The wooden seat scratches at my legs. I carve my name into it with my fingernail: Gracie Faltrain was here.
    The siren goes. I wait for the team to walk off the ground before I stand up. Annabelle passes me as I’m leaving the field. For a moment we’re in step together. My left leg is moving forward at the same time as hers. I slow down my pace, kick my right foot forward and move into my own rhythm. She tells Susan that she and Nick are off to see a film. She makes sure I hear every word. I smile the whole time she’s speaking but I keep thinking, finish what you have to say. Go. And then I can find a quiet place. Cry on my own. I have no problem with tears. I have a huge problem letting Annabelle know that she’s upset me.
    â€˜Coach, you got a minute?’
    â€˜Make it quick, Faltrain. What’s up?’
    â€˜I’m thinking about quitting the team.’
    â€˜And why would that be?’
    â€˜I’ve just had enough of soccer.’
    â€˜WHAT?’ His hands are flexing. His nostrils are flaring.
    â€˜What’s the real reason, Faltrain?’
    â€˜That’s it.’
    â€˜Listen up, because you’re only going to hear this once from me. When you ran onto the field that first day you played I thought, what on earth have I done?’
    â€˜Thanks, Coach.’
    â€˜Shut up and listen. But, Faltrain, you play like you belong out there. At least you did. You’re one of the reasons we’re going to New South Wales. I know why you’re quitting. I’ve heard the guys talking. They’re not too happy. Think about why that is. The little kid who ran out onto that field three years ago had guts. If you find her, let me know. I’d like to bring her to New South Wales. I need her there. You, though, well if you don’t have the guts, I don’t want to take you. Now what do you say?’
    â€˜I won’t change my mind, Coach. You’ll need to replace me.’ I couldn’t change my mind, even if I wanted to. Whenever I played now, I’d see the faces of the guys on the team. I’d hear that voice. When Coach called me off, even though we were losing, every player except Martin was smiling.
    â€˜See you later, Gracie Faltrain,’ Flemming said, just quietly, so that only I would hear.
    Â 
ANNABELLE
    I don’t know anything about soccer, Nick. Explain to me again exactly why Gracie was put on the bench?
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COACH
    I thought I had Faltrain with the bit about the guts. I’ve never seen a kid that stubborn.
    One day we’re playing brilliantly and the next day my left midfielder’s gone left field and my team’s calling for her blood. Blood, sweat and tears, I tell them. Not her blood, though. Not my tears.
    â€˜Knight!’
    â€˜Coach?’
    â€˜Get her back before the Championships. We’ll never win without a strong midfield. And make sure she understands – she comes back, she plays as part of the team.’
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MARTIN
    â€˜Get her back,’ he says. Like it’s as easy as buying some milk. I’d have more chance trying to win the lottery.
    â€˜It’s not fair, Martin. Other guys miss and don’t get forced out of the game,’ she says to me after the match. ‘I’ve won the game for us so many times and this is the thanks I get.’
    â€˜Don’t you get it? You were on the bench because you wouldn’t pass the ball, Faltrain, not because you missed the shot,’ I say as her mum pulls up in