Boy Meets Ghoul Page 13

  She waved and blew me a little kiss. ‘Freddie’s got all sorts of talents – we have that in common.’

  A little blush started to creep up Freddie’s neck. ‘I don’t know about that. But football’s not really what I want to do. Actually, I want to be a doctor more than anything, but I don’t know how to tell my mum. She’ll be so disappointed.’

  Weirdly, this week was starting to make me realize that football really was something I wanted to stay involved in. Not just because it made Dad happy, but because I loved it too. Way more than I’d realized.

  For now, I was just really, really grateful that Freddie was willing to help me.

  ‘I know Mum thinks I have a chance of making it big,’ he was saying. ‘But I just love science so much.’

  That reminded me. ‘Speaking of science. Lacey, I think I’ve got something of yours.’

  I dug around in my bag and handed over her copy of MOXY. I’d had a look at it that morning because I was bored, and totally not because I wanted to look at an article titled ‘Twelve Surprising Ways to Keep Your Man’. Number one was ‘Don’t moan when he’s watching sports. Go out with the girls and have a great time instead!’ (I thought it might have been a little bit sexist.) There was more in the magazine than ways to make your boyfriend happy, though. A lot more. Like a really heavy-duty-looking textbook called Essential Astrophysics.

  Lacey squealed as I handed the magazine back and quickly checked to make sure the book she’d hidden inside it was still there. She flashed me and Freddie a quick look at the cover.

  ‘Well, now you know my secret too. I’m a student!’ She beamed at us with a red-lipped, white-toothed megawatt smile.

  ‘A physics student,’ Freddie said, looking even more impressed than he clearly already was. ‘Are you doing a degree?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got two of those already,’ Lacey said. ‘I needed something a little more challenging. There’s just so much time to fill when I’m getting manicures or blow dries. So I looked for a little something to occupy my mind.’

  I’d seen the course name written inside the book. ‘A little something like a rocket science PhD?’

  Lacey clapped her hands, bracelets jingling. ‘Exactly! I told you Freddie and I had talents in common!’

  I had to hand it to her – there really was a lot more to her than met the eye.

  ‘OI, KERSHAW!’ Jez’s voice echoed around the dugout. ‘Are you going to exercise anything except your jaw this morning? Get over here.’

  What I still couldn’t really see was whatever Lacey saw in Jez.

  I ran across to join him and the rest of the team in a group huddle. This was supposed to be where the manager let us know about any strategy changes and threw out some encouraging words to motivate us all to play at our absolute best.

  Jez was breathing heavily as we gathered in around him. ‘Right then. This team are an absolute shower – any of you lot let me down in front of them, and I’ll have you strung up by your ankles. Understand? Say, “Yes, Jez.”’

  ‘. . . Yes, Jez,’ we all said, after a moment of waiting for him to get to the encouraging, inspiring part.

  ‘Well, get on with it, then.’ He broke away from us and headed off the pitch without a backward glance.

  I wouldn’t have looked at him again, either – I thought most of us could play better without one of his pep talks – except that something caught my eye as the referee blew his whistle to start play.

  It was Jez, over in one corner of the training ground. He was talking to two security guards, who were each holding one arm of a short, bright-haired girl.

  THIRTY

  What was Kayla doing here? The thought ran round and round in my mind as I tried to focus on the game, keeping an eye on who had possession of the ball and running into free space to be ready to take a pass if one came.

  Obviously she must have been caught not attending Camp Cheer. She must have had to give them my name before they handed her over to the police for failing to be sporty in a sport-designated space. That was, unless the police were already on their way, and so were my parents, and Kayla was just waiting here until they took her away. I kept glancing over to see if I could spot the glint of handcuffs round her wrists.

  This was a disaster.

  I shot another quick look across. For some reason, they were letting her sit next to Lacey and Freddie in the dugout. Probably keeping her in plain sight so she couldn’t make a break for it. For a moment, I pictured Kayla’s life on the run: buying bottles of normal-coloured hair dye to disguise herself and dressing in monochrome. Wearing black leggings with beige cardigans. She’d never survive.

  The image of bland, boring Kayla was so vivid that I almost didn’t see my chance to run in for the ball. Only almost, though. I’ve got some kind of natural instinct when it comes to football, and even if my brain isn’t completely turned on, my feet are usually already carrying me the right way. I skidded in to steal the ball . . .

  And found Laurie Deering doing the exact same thing, except it didn’t seem like he was aiming to take the ball – it was more like he was trying to take me out instead. He collided with me hard, sending me toppling to my knees as he turned quickly and ran for the goal.

  I stayed there, stunned for a moment.

  I’d just been tackled by someone from my own team.

  Looking further up the pitch, I could see Leroy lying on his back, moaning. It looked like he’d been a victim of the same tactic. But before I could pick myself up, I heard the half-time whistle and a huge cheer go off at the exact same time. Laurie had scored with half a second to spare.

  After checking Leroy wasn’t hurt – apart from the wind that had been knocked out of him, nothing seemed out of place – I ran across to Kayla. The security guards who’d brought her in were standing off to one side, their arms folded.

  I dashed up to her. ‘Don’t worry – I’ll bust you out!’ I whispered.

  She frowned at me. ‘Sorry – you’ll what?’

  ‘Out of prison!’ I breathed. ‘I’ll smuggle in a nail file or a bar of soap or something. You won’t have to rot away for long.’

  ‘I think it’s supposed to be a nail file in a bar of soap,’ Kayla said slowly. ‘I don’t know how anyone would escape using soap alone, unless they tried to slip between the bars. And I don’t even think prisons have many bars any more, so the nail file wouldn’t be much good, either. But, Dylan, you don’t have to—’

  ‘What’s going on here?’ one of the guards said, wandering over.

  I’d just have to take full responsibility. I’d say Kayla was my lucky charm. I couldn’t play without her, so I’d smuggled her in. Some people kept Troll Dolls with them for luck; I just had my own small, colourful-haired accessory.

  I looked up at the guard. ‘She’s with—’

  ‘Me,’ Lacey Laine cut in. ‘I don’t think I’ve introduced my new personal assistant yet, have I? Meet Kayla Flores.’

  Kayla shot me a winning smile.

  ‘These boys were just sticking around to watch the match. Weren’t you, fellas?’

  From the expression on the guard’s face, it looked more like he was sticking around to watch Lacey Laine, but I wasn’t going to argue. Just so long as Kayla didn’t have a future behind bars.

  Jez appeared behind me, clamping a hand down on my shoulder. ‘Chat up my girlfriend every chance you get, don’t you, Kershaw? But the thing you should know is, she doesn’t like seafood.’

  I must have looked as baffled as I felt, because he smiled, showing every tooth in his mouth. ‘She’s not into shrimp. Especially not little shrimps like you who can’t even stay on their feet till half-time. You’re showing me up – and you don’t want to show me up, do you?’

  I didn’t want to show Jez up, or chat up his girlfriend, but it felt like he was constantly putting my intentions through a translation programme and coming out with something I didn’t mean.

  It was easier to just give him the answer he wanted. ‘No, Je
z.’

  ‘Then get back out there and get lucky, cos you ain’t getting lucky anywhere else.’

  At least that part was sort of true – luck really hadn’t been on my side recently. At least when it came to Feet of the Future, I still had a chance to turn things around. For the second half of the match, I was going to play my socks off.

  Not literally, obviously. If you’re going to wear brand-new football boots without socks, you might as well just strap a cheese grater to the back of each foot, because that’s what it feels like. No, I definitely had the appropriate footwear. I was just going to be brilliant.

  And I was. The thing with football is that no star player gets to be that way without helping the rest of the team. Sometimes the best player in the squad is the one setting up for other people to score. Sure, they don’t get the goals and the glory – they don’t get to make up a little dance to do on the sidelines while people run up to high-five them – but good support players are just as important.

  So I played good support. When I had the ball, I flew up the pitch with it. And when I didn’t, I was always about to steal it, or waiting ready to pick up a pass. I even passed to Laurie and let him get a second goal.

  The problem was, the other team were decent too. Not the ‘complete shower’ Jez had said. They’d been playing together longer and had their tactics all worked out. Their players moved together like pieces of the same machine – all connected, functioning like one.

  When the ball was up their end, Laurie and me owned them. But it almost never was. And Leroy was struggling as captain. He spent most of the time waiting for other people to tell him what to do.

  So I did. I took over tactics, and pretty soon the game started revolving around me in the same natural way it always seemed to focus on Freddie when he played. Except I was better. I was everywhere on the pitch – calling for passes, getting our defence to hold their lines. I’d never thought I could be a captain before, but it suddenly seemed easy. The game went the way I told it to.

  The next time the ball made it to our side of the centre line, Leroy ran for it. He passed left, to where Laurie was waiting, but the other team were marking him. They were on him in a second, just like I knew they would be.

  And I knew Laurie too. He wouldn’t pass to me if his life depended on it, even if it meant giving the ball away. I watched my plan running like clockwork as they surrounded him, and he kicked the ball backwards rather than anywhere I could pick it up.

  What Laurie hadn’t noticed was Leroy joining the hustlers from the other team’s defence, just like I’d whispered to him to try. When Laurie abandoned the ball, Leroy got it, and he had a clear shot to me.

  And I had a clear shot to goal. I had enough space surrounding me to take my time shooting, but the keeper was watching me. I knew he’d be ready.

  The whole game came down to just us, locking eyes across the line. He blinked. I kicked.

  The keeper went the wrong way. He dived left. I’d kicked right, and my fist bunched up ready to punch the air as it soared for the top-right corner of the goal and . . .

  Missed.

  It missed. I’d done everything right. I’d practically played every position on the team for the last quarter of the match, but I hadn’t been able to pull it back. Striking was what I was best at. But I’d missed.

  And Jez was walking towards me with a face like thunder.

  THIRTY-ONE

  ‘What on earth did you think you were playing at?’ Jez growled. The other team were celebrating with their coach as we all gathered round. Jez looked like he was about to rip my head off. ‘Scratch that – what game did you even think you were playing? Because that wasn’t football, Kershaw. Football’s a team sport.’

  That wasn’t fair. Was it? Maybe I’d taken over a bit, but only because we’d been losing. Completely floundering against the opposition. Leroy had been totally lost until I’d stepped in.

  ‘I was trying to get things back on our side.’

  ‘Not your job,’ Jez snapped. ‘Are you the captain? No. Then why were you acting like it? And a bad captain too.’

  My mouth fell open and stayed that way, wordless. I didn’t understand. It felt like I’d been playing the game of my life.

  ‘If you’d defended Laurie, he might have got his hat trick and brought us a tie. You let him get taken down so you could have the glory. I repeat, what kind of game do you think you’re playing?’

  That wasn’t fair. Laurie hadn’t been playing a team game, either. At least I hadn’t actually tackled him for the ball. It was true, though, that I’d thought if I could just get one shot at goal – if I could just score – Jez would have had to let me start for the match tomorrow. I was focused on myself, not the team.

  ‘I’m sorry – I was—’

  Jez cut me off, snarling, ‘You’re right, you’re sorry. A sorry excuse for a footballer. A sorry, snivelling little substitute. I never should have let you off the bench – we’d have had a better team playing a man down. Think you’re a big man, do you?’

  He stepped up to me, nearly half a foot taller and almost twice as broad. I didn’t feel big, then. It was probably the smallest I’d ever felt.

  ‘Think you’re talented? A couple of lucky kicks, and you think you’ve got man of the match sewn up? You’re not big, Kershaw. You’re just a pathetic little loser. Have fun watching the match tomorrow, because that’s where you belong. Lost in the crowd.’

  Jez stormed off to offer the other coach some reluctant congratulations, and the rest of the team started to slowly drift away. Chidi caught my eye for a moment, then looked away, as if he was embarrassed for me.

  I couldn’t move, not yet. My legs felt shaky. My brain was telling me to run for it, just get out of there and never come back. But the way I was feeling, I’d have fallen over and humiliated myself more. If that were even possible.

  The last person to go was Leroy. I looked up to find him staring at me, lips thinned out to a narrow, worried line.

  ‘That wasn’t necessary . . .’ he started.

  ‘No, it was. I messed up, Leroy. You were the captain, not me. I shouldn’t have tried to take over everything.’

  ‘Maybe not everything,’ he said. ‘It was a little bit too much. But if that shot had gone in, it would have been brilliant.’

  I managed something that felt almost like a smile, but painful at the same time. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry, though. For not waiting to find out how brilliant your ideas could have been.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t have any,’ he said honestly. ‘But maybe one would have turned up from somewhere. I do play better under pressure.’

  He clapped me on the back, and somehow it gave me the impetus to start to move, slowly, towards the dugout. Lacey was taking selfies with the two security guards who’d been trying not to stare at her all match, but Freddie and Kayla were waiting for us. From the strange shade of purple Kayla’s face had turned, I could guess they’d heard everything Jez said.

  I couldn’t even look at Freddie.

  ‘Thanks for the chance,’ I said to my bootlaces instead. ‘Think I might have messed it up.’

  ‘It wasn’t so bad.’ Freddie’s voice reassured me. All I could see was his socks. ‘You might have started a new version of the game. Five-a-side getting old? Try one-versus-eleven.’

  He was trying to be nice, I knew, but my face was burning too hot to really acknowledge it. I just wanted to dunk my head in a barrel of water and preferably never emerge.

  ‘We’ll wait outside,’ Leroy murmured to Kayla, and he and Freddie left us alone.

  ‘Of all the useless, talentless, unbelievable idiots,’ she started, as soon as they’d gone. ‘What a wet wipe. What a total, total waste of oxygen.’

  I pushed my hands up over my face, feeling the flush against my palms. ‘I know I messed up, but that’s a bit harsh.’

  ‘Not you,’ Kayla snapped. ‘That gorilla wearing the shirt that says Coach. Not that I think he can read it, because he certainly
doesn’t understand what it means. Coaches are supposed to build their teams up, Dylan, not stamp them into a fine powder under their heels.’

  It was nice that she was defending me, but I shook my head. ‘He was right. I tried to take over when we should have been playing as a team. It was my fault.’

  ‘It was his fault for making that your only chance to prove yourself. No wonder you thought you had to do the work of a whole team – Freddie told me today’s been the first chance you’ve really had to play.’

  ‘Well . . . sort of.’

  ‘It’s been four days! And your dad’s been paying for this. If he wanted you to spend a week running in circles, he could have sent you into the garden with a Frisbee. Why didn’t you tell him you weren’t being allowed to play tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I thought you’d think I messed it all up.’ I shifted uncomfortably where I stood, finally managing to look up at her. ‘Or you’d pretend you didn’t, and that would feel worse. I think I messed it all up.’

  ‘Because that’s what Jez Dutton’s been telling you?’

  I shrugged. ‘Sort of.’

  Kayla growled. Actually growled. If I’d been a small prey animal, I’d have been running by now. As it was, I felt somehow safer with her.

  ‘Dylan, he can’t even handle his dinner, let alone a football team. Lacey’s been telling us a few things about him that you should probably know. But I think the most important one is that there are just some people who make themselves feel better by making sure everyone else feels worse. Did I ever tell you about the time Dad and I stayed with my aunt?’

  I shook my head. She beckoned me over to the bench in the dugout, and we sat down. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lacey and Jez having some kind of argument as they both left the pitch. I hoped he wasn’t taking anything out on her.

  ‘What about your aunt?’ I asked.

  ‘It wasn’t long after Mum left,’ Kayla said.

  Her mum had been out of the picture since before I’d known Kayla and her dad, but I knew she sometimes sent them postcards from far-off places – a different one every time. I knew none of them ever said, Wish you were here.