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Authors: Cindy Jefferies

Hot Prospect (6 page)

BOOK: Hot Prospect
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6. School Life

At lunch, Roddy and Geno sat at a table opposite Keira. She was with two girls Roddy hadn't met before, who had been playing in other matches.

“This is great food!” said Keira through a mouthful of chicken pie. “Does anyone know what we're doing next?”

“Swimming?” said Roddy, trying to remember what was on the itinerary.

“Aren't we meeting in the hall?” said Polly, one of the girls with Keira. “Someone said the headmaster was going to talk to us.”

“Bor…ing,” said the other girl, Tanni.

Keira frowned. “The talk might be interesting,” she said.

Polly shrugged, and turned to Roddy. “How did you get on in your match?” she asked. “We saw the ambulance from where we were. It was really unsettling. Poor girl, I hope she's OK.”

“Mr Jenkins said she would be,” Roddy said. “But it was hard to get back into the game afterwards. I think everyone was shaken up.”

“What position do you play?” asked Tanni.

Roddy told her and she grinned. “Me, too,” she said. “And so do you, don't you, Keira?”

Keira nodded and Tanni smiled again. “There are lots of midfielders here,” she said. “Did you score any goals?”

Roddy shook his head. “No, I only got one shot on target and it hit the post.”

“Shame,” said Tanni, looking pleased rather than sympathetic. “I got one in and had several shots at goal. Quality always shows,” she bragged.

“Well, if we hadn't been down to ten players…” said Roddy. But he left the comment hanging. There was no point in arguing over who had been best. It was Mr Jenkins who would decide.

“Come on, let's find a good seat in the hall,” said Keira, getting to her feet.

“OK,” agreed Roddy. “Come on, Geno, leave that!”

Geno had been concentrating on eating. He scowled at Roddy, scraped up the last bit of potato, then put his knife and fork tidily at the edge of his plate, making Roddy wait. “OK,” he said at last, with an infuriating grin, glancing at Roddy's messy, abandoned plate.

Roddy grinned back. Geno might be slightly built, but he obviously wasn't the type to be pushed around.

There was still plenty of room in the hall, so they got good seats near the front. After a
few minutes, Mr Jenkins came in, accompanied by a man dressed in a dark suit.

“Hello, everyone,” said the man in the suit. “My name is Paul Wender, and I'm the head of Stadium School.”

Roddy was surprised. He had assumed that the head would be wearing blue and green like everyone else, but he was dressed like a bank manager.

“I hope you all enjoyed the trial this morning,” the head went on. “Mr Jenkins tells me that the standard this year is very high, which is terrific. We like to keep ahead in the league we play in, but as more and more top clubs improve their youth squads, the opposition is getting tougher.”

“We accept about 50 students each year,” Mr Wender told them. “And as there are almost 100 people here today, unfortunately many of you won't get places. I'm sorry we
can't take more. However,” he went on, “those of you who miss out mustn't think of yourselves as failures. Just to have been offered a trial here means you have heaps of talent. If you're serious about making it as a professional footballer then you still have a chance that a club will sign you at some point. And if you think you've performed badly this morning, don't give up hope quite yet,” he said.

Roddy crossed his fingers, and Geno did the same.

“You might not think we've seen your potential,” said Mr Wender. “But we notice a lot more than you may realise. And remember,” he continued, “we're looking for character as well as skill. You might be the best striker in the world, but if you're not a team player we'll think very hard before taking you on.”

Roddy thought about the girl in his match who had refused to pass to him several times. He was sure she'd only held onto the ball to try and impress Mr Jenkins, but she'd been tackled and, as a result, they'd almost given away a goal. How on earth would the staff decide if her style of play was influenced by being on trial, or if she was usually selfish with passing?

“Tomorrow morning you'll be doing some activities that will give you a chance to demonstrate more of your skills, and Mr Jenkins will show you our media centre. But for the rest of today,” said the head, “relax and enjoy yourselves. We want your visit here to be fun as well as challenging. And now I'll leave you in the capable hands of Mr Jenkins and his team.”

The head left and Mr Jenkins smiled. “Right then,” he said. “We have some exciting
activities for you this afternoon, but first I thought you'd like to know that Sarah Richards, who was injured this morning, is OK. The hospital tells me that she has a simple fracture, which has been put in plaster. She won't be able to play for quite a while, but we've promised her another trial when she's fit.”

“That's good,” Roddy said quietly to Geno.

“She might not want to come back,” said Geno. “A broken leg is a horrible injury to get. It's enough to put anyone off.”

Roddy was surprised. He couldn't imagine
anything
changing his mind about playing, but then he'd never broken his leg.

“To help you get to know the school a bit better, we thought we'd organise a short orienteering session this afternoon,” Mr Jenkins continued. “I hope you'll find it fun, but you will be timed, so you'll have to be fast
if you want to win the prize. It'll be a good test of your fitness, and teamwork as well. Then there will be a chance to have a swim, and after tea you'll have free time in the boarding houses. Our students have lots of fun here after school hours. There's table football, pool and computer games, including plenty of football ones of course, so there's never any reason to be bored.”

“What about TV?” asked a boy near the front.

“Each boarding house
does
have a TV set in the common room,” said Mr Jenkins. “But to be honest they don't get watched an awful lot … except for when there are football matches!”

Several people laughed.

“For the orienteering, you'll need to get into groups of four,” said Mr Jenkins. “So let's see how quickly you can organise yourselves.”

Keira wanted to stay with the two girls she'd met, so Roddy and Geno hooked up with Ali, a goalie, and John, who'd been on the wing in their team earlier. Each group was given a compass and a map of the school and its grounds. They had to get their cards stamped by a member of staff at each checkpoint they navigated to, and there were clues to collect as well. Everyone was told to meet back in the hall afterwards.

“Each clue is a letter,” said Mr Jenkins. “Once you have them all, see if you can make them into a word or phrase. And if you haven't finished by three o'clock, then just come back here anyway, otherwise it'll be too late to fit in a swim. Good luck, everyone!”

Roddy hadn't done any orienteering before, but Ali had, and he showed them how to use the compass to follow their instructions. They raced off to the first checkpoint, leaving
several of the other teams standing. But after collecting a couple of letters, they seemed to be lost.

“Let's go round by the pool,” said Ali. “We might find the way to the next checkpoint there.”

“No!” said Roddy impatiently, seeing their early lead slipping away. “Look at the map! We need to return to the main house. The checkpoint is round the back.”

Ali didn't want to do that, but he was outvoted.

“I think you're better at leading than Ali,” panted Geno as they sprinted along the path. “He hasn't been paying attention to the map.”

They were soon back on track, and heading for the checkpoint manned by Justin.

“There's one group ahead of you,” he told them as they raced up. He stamped their card. “But not by much. You might overtake them
if you hurry.”

They all needed to catch their breath, but Roddy urged them on. “Hurry up!” he said. “We've almost done it!”

By the time they picked up the last clue and got back to the hall they were exhausted, and to their dismay they found that the other team had already cracked the code.

“There were two words, not one,” Mr Jenkins explained. “But never mind. You were the second-fastest team to finish. Well done!”

Geno looked at the letters again. “Of course,” he said after a few moments. “The letters make
blue
and
green
!”

The winning team members got a football each. Roddy eyed them enviously. He would have loved a new football.

After the orienteering almost everyone wanted to swim, so the pool was packed. It was an opportunity to relax, and for the first
time that day Roddy felt as if he didn't have anything to prove. Afterwards, the mood stayed with them. People chatted more openly with each other, as if they weren't rivals any more.

Roddy was starting to feel very at home at Stadium School, and it looked as if he wasn't the only one. A group of boys loitering by the serving hatch started singing football songs and another group took an orange from the servery, and started an impromptu game of football.

“That boy, Jack, by the door, is a brilliant midfielder,” said someone behind Roddy. “He's sure to get a place. There's no one to beat him. And his dad knows the headmaster.”

“He may be good, but he's a thug,” said another. “I had enough trouble with bullies at my last school. I don't want to be bullied if I come here.”

Roddy looked towards the door and saw a solidly built, brown-haired boy. He turned to Geno. “I wish my dad knew the head. Or owned a football club, or had been a professional footballer like yours.”

“But I bet there'll be no pressure from your parents if you don't get in,” Geno said. “I expect your parents will be proud of you whatever happens.”

Something in his voice made Roddy look at him again. “Will your dad be angry then, if you don't pass the trial?” he asked.

“He won't be
angry
,” Geno told Roddy. “But I know how disappointed he'll be, and that's almost worse. I'll feel dreadful if I let him down. Since I got this trial, he's been going on about how I'll play for Italy like he did. But I'm nowhere near as good as he was.”

Roddy hadn't thought it would be possible to feel sorry for Geno, but now he did. “Come
on,” he said cheerfully. “The trial's over now. We can't change anything.”

“OK,” agreed Geno. “You're right. Let's have our tea. Then I'll challenge you to a game of table football, if you like.”

“You're on!” said Roddy. “Food first, then football!”

7. Evening

After Roddy and Geno had eaten until they were totally stuffed, they left the dining room and made their way back to the boarding house. To their disappointment, they found that they weren't sharing a room. Geno would be sleeping at the far end of Roddy's corridor. But it wasn't time for bed yet.

Downstairs, there was a queue of boys waiting to play table football. Mr Clutterbuck the housemaster intervened to avoid any argument. “First to three goals wins,” he said. “Winner stays on. While you're waiting, why not play table tennis, or go on the computers?”

The action was fast and furious, with the
ball rattling into the goal time and time again. It wasn't long before it got to Roddy's turn. He was up against a blond boy that he'd noticed earlier in the day.

“Come on, Simon!” yelled someone nearby.

Simon glanced at Roddy and grinned. “Prepare to eat dirt,” he said. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Neither of them was going to give away an easy goal. Roddy had played a few times before, and it looked like his opponent had, too. For a few minutes they battled away, before Simon sent the ball crashing into Roddy's goal.

“Hard luck,” said Geno. But there was no time to reply. As soon as the ball was back in play, Simon was on the offensive, and Roddy had to work hard to keep the ball out of his half. He tried distracting Simon with a few dummies, then passed quickly and fired it into
the goal. Geno cheered, and Simon shook his head.

“All right, I'll start playing properly now,” he said.

They were both giving it everything they'd got, and everyone else was getting a bit fed up of waiting when Simon scored a lucky goal, shooting the whole length of the pitch with his goalie. The third goal soon followed, but Simon offered Roddy his hand as a gesture of respect for a worthy opponent.

Roddy left the table reluctantly and rejoined Geno.

“You were really good!” said Geno.

Roddy smiled. “Thanks. Shall we have a go at table tennis now?” he said.

Geno was much better than Roddy at that. “Fair enough,” said Roddy after Geno had thrashed him twice. “But I bet I can beat you on the computer.”

It was late when Mr Clutterbuck came to tell everyone it was bedtime. No one wanted to go, but as they made their way back to the dormitories, Roddy realised how tired he was. It had been a very full day, and it felt as if he'd arrived weeks ago, not just this morning.

“Whatever happens, it's been great,” said Geno.

“I wouldn't have missed it for anything,” agreed Roddy.

“Come on now,” said Mr Clutterbuck. “Into bed before you fall asleep in the corridor. I don't want to come along in the morning and find you in a pile on the floor.”

“Mr Clutterbuck's OK, isn't he?” said Roddy.

“I wouldn't mind him for a housemaster,” agreed Geno.

At the top of the stairs, Roddy and Geno saw Simon.

“We're going to have a pillow fight later.
Do you want to join us?” he asked. “We're in room three.”

“Sure,” agreed Roddy. He'd never had a pillow fight before and it sounded fun.

“What about you?” Simon turned to Geno. “Are you up for it?”

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