Read Online The Whole of My World by Nicole Hayes - Free Book Online

for autographs and photos start up. I join in with equal excitement.
    Tara hangs back until the crowd has thinned. When her turn comes, she thrusts her autograph book at Mick, half watching him, half turned away, as though she’s doing him a favour and not the other way around. He signs it, hardly noticing. And then it’s my turn. I stand my ground, fighting the urge to push past the other kids. I hold out my shiny new official Glenthorn autograph book, its pages stiff and barely touched. The plastic cover had cracked when I opened it for Killer, who came through earlier. I’d turned it to the third page for him and watched him scrawl his signature with barely a glance my way. Kanga and Blackie arrived after him, signing their names on the pages following. I’ve saved the first page for Mick. I open it to face him, its surface flat and clean and new. He takes my book without looking up and the beginnings of panic tighten my chest. He doesn’t remember.
    He signs my book and goes to hand it back when he starts, as though only just realising I’m here. His smile is wide and open. ‘Shelley! I didn’t see you.’
    Heat and pleasure battle with dread as I feel Tara’s drill-like gaze. And I’m struggling to decide what’s more important.
    â€˜Good to see you got home okay,’ Mick says, oblivious to the silent battle happening in my head in front of him.
    I smile and nod, trying to come up with something intelligent to say. I must look weird because he frowns at me in concern, raised eyebrows and all. ‘Nice goal in the third quarter,’ I say, reaching for the thing I know best.
    â€˜Lucky shot,’ he says, shrugging. But it wasn’t. It was a beauty, all the way from the boundary.
    â€˜Wrong foot too,’ I add, forgetting about the others, who are staring at us in confusion and disbelief. Forgetting about Tara and her steely gaze. ‘I like the two-step you did to push it out.’
    Mick laughs. ‘Thought I’d get pinged for that.’
    I shrug, safe and warm in this space now. ‘Nah, fifty-fifty. Dad says for every close decision you win, you lose two. So, be careful Saturday.’
    The deep throaty laugh he lets out is the most exciting thing I’ve heard. He hands back my autograph book, shaking his head. ‘Good theory. I’ll keep that in mind.’
    I stand with the book in my hand, the pages open to his broad, sweeping autograph, feeling like I could fend off bullets with this priceless thing. The other kids have disappeared to meet the latest arrival.
    â€˜See you after?’ Mick says. To me, alone.
    I nod. And nod again.
    Mick disappears inside the gym, and I stand there for a full minute before I remember – Tara.
    She’s hanging back, not with the other kids as I expected, but right where she was standing before. She’s no more than a long arm’s reach away, and yet, the space between us is enormous. I see that in the stiff tilt of her chin. I want to confront her – confront this – to say something in my defence. But all I have are questions. Why is she angry with me? What does it matter if Mick and I are friends?
    Before I can find the right words, she shoves her camera and autograph book into her schoolbag, which she swings onto her shoulder. Her smile is empty and light. ‘See if the press box is empty?’ she asks.
    I smile hesitantly, then with more confidence. ‘Yeah. Let’s go watch some footy.’

 
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    We live two kilometres from Glenvalley train station. During the week I catch the bus to the station, but on Saturdays the bus doesn’t run, so when Dad and I go to the footy we walk to the station to catch the Valley Park bus. We could drive – Dad could drive – but he likes walking more than anyone I know. Sometimes he wanders through the whole of Glenvalley, all the way to Hunters Hill, covering miles without ever really going anywhere. Walking