‘I didn’t.’
‘Oh. Right. I’m a Leo myself, not that I really believe in star signs.’
‘You’re a bit odd, aren’t you?’ she said, regarding him like some rare breed of South American iguana.
Will smiled and shrugged.
‘You going to eat that?’ asked Zoe, eyeballing his food.
‘Um…’
Before he could say anything else, Zoe reached over and scraped his lasagne onto her plate. ‘I’m starving. Must be the ocean air or something,’ she mused, while shovelling Will’s lasagne into her otherwise dainty mouth. She was like no girl Will had met before.
‘We’re near the ocean?’ squeaked Shavil. ‘But I’m allergic to seagulls!’
Both Zoe and Will lost it.
‘Don’t worry, we’re about three kilometres from the nearest beach,’ said Zoe. ‘I think you’ll be safe from the seagulls.’
An ear-splitting whistle pierced the air. Everyone turned to see Jack standing at the head of the room.
‘I hope you’re all enjoying that lasagne – I made it myself!’ Jack said with a chuckle. This was followed by a few laughs around the room and a few more groans. ‘Before dessert comes out I just want to give you a run-down on what we’ll be doing over the next couple of days…’
Jack went on to explain that the following day would involve a series of masterclasses in T20 skills and tactics. Everyone was to be split into groups and rotated around to visit different coaches, including Glenn Maxwell. At this point, Zoe nodded her head excitedly at Will with an ‘I told you so’ smile.
‘Day Three will consist of a mini knockout comp, where you will all have a chance to show off your skills in order to win a place in the T20 Youth Academy,’ said Jack. ‘We can’t invite everyone, so make sure you don’t hold back.’
‘Excited?’ asked Zoe, nudging Will in the stomach.
Will’s stomach lurched. ‘Sure,’ he said, forcing a smile.
After Jack had finished speaking, dessert was served. But Will didn’t even notice. He was staring out the open window at the black night.
What if I have another day like today at the crease? he thought. What if the next bouncer Killer gives me is lethal?
Will imagined how his parents would go on without their only child. Then he thought about Darren being taken away in his cricket whites by the police. With a nickname like Killer he’d have no problem fitting in in prison.
‘Coming?’ asked Shavil, breaking Will’s train of thought.
‘Huh? Where?’
‘Back to the cabin, space cadet. Where do you think?’ Shavil chuckled.
‘I guess,’ sighed Will.
Sharing a cabin with Shavil wasn’t too bad, except he was a bit of a chatterbox. Even Darren’s presence hadn’t kept him quiet for long. He’d asked about a million questions after lights out before he finally fell asleep.
‘What do you think Glenn will show us tomorrow?’ Shavil had asked.
‘Dunno.’
‘Do you think he’ll let us call him Maxi?’
‘Dunno.’
‘I think he will… How many batsmen do you think they’ll select for the academy?’
‘Dunno.’
‘What do you think we’ll have for breakfast tomorrow?’
‘Dunno.’
‘I hope it’s Corn Flakes. The only cereal I eat is Corn Flakes. And Weet-Bix. Sometimes Cheerios. Mostly Corn Flakes, though.’
‘Would you just shut up? Some of us want to get some sleep!’ Darren had finally yelled.
Will didn’t say anything but he was a little glad Darren had stepped in.
‘Sorry, Killer,’ said Shavil. ‘I mean, Mr Killer. I mean, Mr Darren –’
‘SHUT UP!’
‘Right. Sorry. I’ll stop now. Goodnight, Will. Goodnight, Mr Darren.’
‘Night,’ said Will.
Darren had just grunted and rolled over.
When Shavil finally did stop talking, Will laid back and closed his eyes, enjoying the silence. The only sounds were of the breeze whispering through the pine trees and the crickets chirping to each other.
Until, a minute later, when Darren began snoring like an A380 airbus taking off from Melbourne Airport.
‘What the heck is that?’ whispered Shavil.
‘I think that is the sound of a twelve-year-old fast bowler snoring,’ said Will.
Shavil giggled and so did Will, but it wasn’t so funny an hour later when he was still lying there, wide awake. Each time he almost slipped into sleep, Darren’s snoring would rise to a fever pitch of nasal snorting. Will drifted off only to dream he was running on the plains of the African Serengeti and being chased by a snarling lion with a familiar black mane. In the lion’s paw was a shiny red cricket ball.
‘Here I come, nerd!’ roared the lion, launching the ball straight at Will’s head.
Then everything went black.
MASTERCLASS
Will woke to the sound of thumping. Angry thumping. Angry thumping and muttering. He peered over the side of the bunk. There was Darren, straddling his duffel bag and struggling to zip it up between angry punches into its sides.
Darren stopped, as if sensing danger, and looked up. ‘What are you looking at?’
‘Nothing … just … Do you need a hand?’ Will asked, trying his best to sound casual.
‘I think I can close my own bag, jerk face,’ said Darren, squeezing the duffel bag until his face went red. With a final tug, he pulled the zipper shut, but not before Will glimpsed something furry and brown squashed in amongst Darren’s T-shirts, socks and undies.
Hmm, interesting. Will stretched and yawned and tried to wake himself up.
Shavil was still sound asleep, a large smile planted on his face.
Will hopped down from the bunk and peeked out the cabin window.
There was a flurry of activity around the camp site as Dan went from cabin to cabin, rousing the players. Will spotted Zoe. She was already up and dressed, her curly hair neatly brushed and tied back. She was joking around with some of the other boys and throwing a Nerf torpedo.
She must be one of those annoying morning people, thought Will.
A moment later, Dan knocked on their door. ‘Breakfast in ten, boys!’
Shavil sprang from his bed like he’d been hit with an adrenalin shot. ‘Breakfast! Cool, I’m starving!’
After Shavil had polished off three bowls of Corn Flakes and Darren had devoured a worrying amount of baked beans on toast, the players were split into mixed groups of boys and girls and were sent off to their masterclasses.
Will wasn’t surprised that Shavil and Darren were in his group but he was a bit taken aback when Zoe suddenly slugged him in the arm as they headed down to the nets for their first tutorial.
‘Glad to see you survived the night with tall, dark and ugly,’ she said, motioning to Darren.
Will laughed. ‘Barely.’
But before he could get into any detail, the group suddenly found themselves standing face to face with Glenn Maxwell.
‘Morning, everyone, and welcome to your first masterclass. I’m Glenn but you can call me Maxi.’
Shavil nudged Will. ‘Told you,’ he whispered.
‘Okay, let’s get started. First, I’m going to take you through how you can make good shot choices out in the middle to maximise scoring opportunities and stick around for a while. T20 games can be fast and furious, and if you don’t have a good batting plan, it can be all over in an over.’
‘You’d know about that, nerd,’ Darren hissed in Will’s ear, loud enough for those around them to hear.
‘He has a name, you know,’ Zoe said defensively.
Darren sneered. ‘Really, is it I. P. Daily?’
Zoe scrunched up her nose. ‘Ew, gross. No, it’s… Hey, what’s your name again?’
Will winced. Oh, good grief.
Glenn cleared his throat. ‘As I was saying, shot selection is about knowing the conditions, adjusting to the bowler’s s
tyle and playing each ball as it comes. Does anyone have any questions about how to play specific shots or deliveries?’
Freckles was the first to put up his hand. ‘I’m not that great with spin,’ he said.
Glenn smiled. ‘Spin? No worries. I bowl a bit of spin myself, but it can be hard to adjust to. Try to hit with the spin until you’ve got used to the conditions and the bowler. Once you’re in and it’s time to up the ante, target the shorter boundaries to give yourself the best chance of clearing the ropes.’
Will raised his hand. ‘What about pace bowling? Like, if it’s really fast and he’s bowling bouncers at you?’ he asked, avoiding Darren’s gaze.
‘With pace, I usually try to prepare as if every ball’s going to be full, then if it’s short you can move to the back foot and play a pull or a cut shot, and if it’s a super-fast bowler –’
‘He is,’ Will and Shavil said in unison.
Glenn looked at the pair curiously. ‘If you’re dealing with a really fast bowler, try to use their pace as much as possible by playing behind the wicket on both sides of the ground.’
Will nodded. He could feel Darren’s self-satisfied smirk sizzling away behind him.
Glenn ran through some more unorthodox shots to help increase scoring abilities. They learnt about the switch hit, the helicopter shot and the reverse slog sweep before it was time for some actual batting practice.
‘Let’s get all of you in the net and hitting a few deliveries so I can look at your stroke play,’ suggested Glenn. ‘Who’d like to go first?’
Zoe and Shavil’s hands immediately shot up.
‘How about you?’ Glenn asked, looking directly at Will.
‘M-me?’ Will’s face turned a bright cricket-ball red.
Glenn nodded. ‘Sure. What’s your name again?’
‘Will.’
‘Cool, strap on some pads and come have a bat.’ Glenn looked around the group. ‘Who wants to bowl a few to Will?’
Will didn’t need to look behind him to know that a certain lanky, dark-haired fast bowler had his hand highest in the air.
GIRLS VS BOYS
Darren steamed into the practice nets at full speed.
Will remembered Glenn’s advice and stood back in the crease, preparing for a full, quick delivery. The ball was short of a good length, and Will wrapped his bat around it, swatting it into the net.
‘Nice work,’ said Glenn.
There were a few claps from the others. Darren grumbled and adjusted his run-up, then came in hard again. The next ball was a rocket, full and dead on target. Will reacted quickly, pushing onto his back foot and punching the ball behind him into the corner of the net. This time the applause was louder.
‘Shot, Will,’ said Shavil.
‘Good decision and great reaction time,’ said Glenn. ‘You’ve got some skills.’
Darren huffed and kicked at the dirt on the way back to his mark. He extended his run-up again and came pounding in.
The next delivery was deadly – a full toss aimed right at Will’s head. It was a nasty beamer.
Will ducked just in time. The ball skimmed his helmet, then thudded into the net behind him. The small group of spectators groaned.
‘Hey, settle down,’ said Zoe. ‘It’s a training session.’
‘Any more like that, mate, and I’ll have to replace you,’ warned Glenn.
Darren nodded, a scowl planted firmly on his face. He stormed back into the net as fast as ever, but the next ball was a poor one – short and off-line. Will got onto it quickly, smacking it straight back to the bowler with force.
Darren saw it coming but didn’t have time to react. It caught him square in the nether regions. He fell to his knees, stunned.
Will dropped the bat and rushed over. ‘Sorry, it was an accident,’ he said with genuine concern.
Darren glared at him with startled, watery eyes. His mouth hung open in rage but all he could do was moan. For the first time in two days, Darren McKinnon was speechless.
While Darren was taken to First Aid for some ice and a lie-down, the group moved on to the next session – a masterclass in pace bowling with Eddie Rooney and Liz Banks. Will wasn’t that disappointed that Darren wasn’t around for it, although he did feel a bit guilty.
At lunch, Will sat at a table at the back, lying low in case Darren came looking for revenge.
‘Serves him right,’ said Zoe. ‘He was trying to take your head off.’
‘Yeah, I guess,’ said Will. ‘I still feel bad.’
‘It was awesome!’ said Shavil. ‘Whack – straight into the goolies. By the way, where are you sleeping tonight?’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Will.
‘Well, you’re not thinking of coming back to the same cabin after that, are you? It would be suicide!’
Will sighed. ‘Right.’
‘Listen up, ladies and gentleman,’ Jack yelled, bringing a sudden stop to the noisy lunchtime chatter. ‘We’ve got another two masterclasses after lunch and then we have a little surprise planned. We’ll be heading down to the beach for a game of T20 beach cricket!’
A buzz of anticipation rippled around the dining hall.
‘And just to make it a little more interesting,’ added Jack, ‘this game will be girls versus boys, with the losers having the distinct honour of washing the winners’ dishes tonight.’
‘Oh, game on!’ squealed Zoe.
‘You don’t really think you have a chance of winning?’ said Will.
‘We’re not just going to win, Will Albright. We are going to wipe the sand with you boys,’ Zoe said coolly, swiping the last wedge from Will’s plate.
‘You girls should save your energy for tonight,’ Shavil teased. ‘I think I’ll be making quite a mess at dinner.’
‘Yeah,’ laughed Will. ‘We could give you girls Darren and you would still lose.’
Zoe, who was sitting opposite Will, had grown strangely quiet.
‘Actually, after that knock he copped today, he probably should play on the girls’ team!’
Will laughed at his own joke but Shavil and Zoe just stared at him awkwardly.
‘I said he should probably play on the girls’ team,’ Will repeated.
He looked at Shavil for some support, but Shavil just winced. Zoe shook her head violently, as if she’d just been offered rotten fish heads for dessert.
Suddenly, it dawned on him. ‘He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?’
Shavil and Zoe nodded slowly.
Now he could hear it – a low, growling noise.
‘That’s not good,’ whispered Will.
Shavil and Zoe both shook their heads.
Will turned around and, sure enough, there stood Killer McKinnon. He didn’t look happy. ‘Hi, Darren.’ Will smiled weakly. ‘Feeling better?’
Darren didn’t say anything. He just growled again.
‘Darren?’
HIGH STAKES
‘This is unacceptable,’ scolded Jack.
Will and Darren sat dejectedly in the camp office.
‘We simply can’t have any kind of fighting at camp – and certainly not a food fight.’
‘Sorry, Jack,’ said Will. His face was flecked with gravy, his hair matted with crumbed chicken, bits of wedges and assorted salad. Darren had clocked him with Shavil’s plate of half-eaten seconds.
‘Yeah, um… sorry,’ Darren said reluctantly, his shirt still drenched from the jug of pine-orange cordial that Will had managed to hurl at him.
It had all gone downhill from there. Darren and Will had begun shoving and pushing each other until they eventually slipped over in the mess of squashed chicken and wedges, and rolled around on the floor. After someone declared ‘Food fight!’, the entire dining hall had joined in.
‘You are both great players, but if there’s another occurrence like this, you can forget about the academy. I’ve half a mind to call both your parents right now,’ said Jack.
Both boys looked down at their feet.
&
nbsp; ‘We want players who can work together, not slug it out the first chance they get. Cricket is a gentleman’s game, boys. Not a thug’s game,’ said Jack.
‘Sorry, Jack,’ said Will.
‘Yeah, sorry,’ mumbled Darren.
‘Just make sure it doesn’t happen again. Now, get out of my sight before I change my mind.’
Will and Darren didn’t wait to be asked twice. They both got up and headed outside into the bright sunlight.
‘Thanks a lot,’ said Darren.
Will was about to suggest that Darren had played a rather significant part in the food fight, namely dumping Shavil’s plate of food on him, but he stopped himself. What was the point in arguing?
‘Just stay out of my way!’ said Darren.
‘Fine, stay out of my way, too!’ said Will.
‘Great!’ said Darren.
‘Excellent,’ said Will.
But as they went to walk off to catch up with the next masterclass, they realised they were heading to the exact same place. It was going to make staying out of each other’s way very difficult.
For the next hour, Will and Darren tried their best to ignore each other and focus on Dan’s fielding advice. Their session on spin bowling with Jack was a little more challenging, with Jack glaring at both boys the whole time, but at least they didn’t have to speak to each other. Of course, it didn’t stop Shavil from speaking.
‘I just can’t believe it!’ he whispered while Jack demonstrated an off-break. ‘Amazing! Simply amazing!’
‘What’s amazing?’ Will whispered back.
‘First you hit the ball straight into the guy’s –’
‘That was an accident,’ said Will.
‘Then you throw a jug of cordial at him!’
‘That was self-defence, more a reflex reaction than –’
Shavil shook his head. ‘You really must have a death wish.’
Will rolled his eyes.
‘What did my uncle say?’ Zoe whispered in Will’s other ear.
He frowned. ‘We almost got sent home.’
‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t,’ she said with a wry smile.
Glenn Maxwell 1 Page 3
