Free Hurt by Tabitha Suzuma Page A

momentum in the run-up; you jumped too wide – that’s why you over-rotated your entry.’
    ‘I know,’ he gasps, shaking his head to clear the water from his ears and the dizziness before him.
    ‘You’re still aiming for more clearance than you need. Stop worrying about hitting the board!’ his father shouts from his plastic poolside chair.
    It’s not so much a board as a fifteen-centimetre-thick concrete platform. You try somersaulting through the air with that jutting out in front of your face , Mathéo thinks acidly.
    The second slow-mo on the big screen comes to an end, and both coach and father are waiting for him to do it again. In a two-hour training session, it is usual for him to clock up over thirty dives from the high board. One dropped dive already – he is already analysing his mistake. He won’t make it again. The next twenty-nine will be perfect. Mathéo jumps to his feet, picks up his cloth, strides over to the ladders and begins his ascent once again.
    Shovelling down his huge high-protein breakfast in the Aqua Centre’s canteen, he tries to explain the extension at the end of The Big Front to Eli, who has been trying to nail the dive for months now.
    ‘The trick is to extend as soon as the top of your head is level with the three-metre board,’ he says between mouthfuls of scrambled egg on toast. ‘If you wait until you think you’re level, it’s actually your eyes that are level, so you’ve left it too late.’
    ‘But how do you know when the top of your head is level?’ Eli jabs his fork against his plate in frustration. ‘Do you use another visual marker, or what?’
    ‘You can tell because you’re looking down,’ Mathéo replies. ‘That’s the thing: you’ve got to keep your head straight but really keep your eyes on the water.’
    ‘Hey.’ Aaron and Zach come over, carrying similarly laden trays which they set down noisily at the table.
    ‘Perez says if we all finish in the top five this weekend, he’s taking us out for a night on the town!’ Aaron declares with a grin.
    ‘What, like, to a bar?’ Eli’s mouth falls open.
    ‘Yeah, maybe!’
    ‘He told you that?’ Mathéo shoots Aaron a sceptical look. ‘Perez letting us drink? I don’t think so.’
    ‘I was there. He said “a night on the town”,’ Zach chips in. ‘What does that expression mean to you?’
    ‘Cool!’ Eli’s face is quick to light up. ‘Top five – we can do that, right, guys?’
    ‘Means at least two of us have got to win a medal,’ Aaron points out.
    ‘Duh! Matt’s gonna win gold!’ Eli retorts.
    Zach’s face instantly darkens. ‘Why the hell do you always assume that Matt—’
    ‘Yeah, any one of us could win gold,’ Mathéo says quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. ‘I was really over-rotating my dives today.’
    ‘You’re still the only one who’s got The Big Front—’ Eli begins to argue.
    ‘It’s not all about that one dive, dickhead!’ Zach flicks one of his peas into Eli’s face.
    ‘I reckon we can all get into the top five, easy,’ Mathéo interjects.
    ‘Yeah. Gold, silver, bronze.’ Aaron points at Mathéo, himself, then Zach.
    ‘Oh, in your dreams, mate!’ Laughing, Zach kicks Aaron under the table.
    ‘What about me?’ Eli protests.
    ‘Fifth!’ the other two shout triumphantly.
    Mathéo catches Eli’s eye and gives a quick shake of the head. Despite being nearly a year older than Mathéo, Eli has been home-schooled all his life: an only child, mollycoddled and cocooned by fiercely protective parents who live for his diving. As a result, he often acts young for his age, susceptible to a fair bit of ribbing.
    Fortunately, Zach is too busy examining his food to continue winding him up. ‘I can’t believe I’ve got to eat this shit for another thirteen months.’ He holds up a spoonful of oatmeal and lets it glob back down into his bowl. Both his parents are overweight; he has begun to broaden out in recent months and so is on a strict