Free The Secrets Club by Chris Higgins

kind to snitch.
She peers out through the window as I open my first message from Lissa.
    ‘Do
they
know?’
    ‘Does who know?’
    ‘Your friends.’
    I look up and follow her gaze. Lissa,
Ali and Tash are standing by the barriers. Ali spots me and points, and she and Tash
jump up and down and wave madly. Lissa, in contrast, seems to be arguing heatedly
with the guy in uniform.
    What is going on? Surely they’re
not trying to get on the train as well? Please, please tell me they’re not
thinking of coming with us?
    Lissa must’ve won her argument
because the guy suddenly holds the barrier open and they all burst through. But my
prayers are answered as our train lurches into motion and I breathe
a sigh of relief and sit back,
glancing down at the message on my phone that I’ve just opened.
    You’ve forgotten your bag!
    Too late, I jump to my feet. As the train
pulls slowly away from the station, I see my three friends on the opposite platform,
Lissa holding my sports bag containing my brand-new football boots up high like a
trophy.

Chapter 20
    First ever game for the Blackett Junior
team. I’m late and I have no kit. Great start.
    ‘Here,’ says Terry, flinging
a pair of football boots at me. ‘Lucky for you I held on to the new strip for
the big day, that’s all I can say. Now get yourself changed and out on that
field, pronto!’
    They’re Ryan’s old pair and
about two sizes too big for me but I’m in no position to be picky. Everyone
else is already changed and warming up on the pitch. Blue and white shirt, blue
shorts, navy and blue socks. Very smart. Supply your own boots – unless, like in my
case, you’ve left them on the train.
    That was my story and I was sticking to
it. It was bad but not quite as bad as the truth. ‘Sorry, Terry, I left my
boots in a cafe where I
was having
coffee and cake with my girl-mates. Oh yeah, did I tell you that’s why
I’m late for this mega-important match?’
    Don’t think that would’ve
gone down too well with him somehow. Terry doesn’t know what to make of me, I
can tell. On the one hand, I’m one of the best players on the field.
(I’m not boasting, it’s true.) On the other hand, I turn up late for my
first match, minus my boots, and I’m inconsistent. (As witnessed by him at the
selection match, when I went to pieces. OK, I had good reason to; if my mum and gran
had spotted me the game would be up – literally – but he didn’t know that.)
What’s he supposed to think?
    I dash into the changing rooms, which we
are allowed to use today for the first time now we’re an official team, and
get my kit on. At least because I’m late I don’t have to worry about
changing in front of the others, something that I’d been fretting about
quietly all week. Until now we’ve just played in the clothes we’ve
turned up in. I slip into my shirt and shorts, loving the feel of their silky
smoothness against my skin. Is that what the boys think too? Then, keeping my own
socks on, I tug the others up
and over
them and lace up the boots. They’ll do. They’ll have to! A bit loose but
I can manage. I straighten up, square my shoulders and take a deep breath.
    This is it, Dani. You won’t get a
second chance. Now you have to go out there and prove to Uncle Terry and Ryan and
Vikram and Lofty and Marvyn and all the others and, maybe, most of all, to yourself
that you deserve a place in Blackett United Junior Football Team.
    Can you do it?
    I stumble over my outsize boots.
    Yes, I can.
    We take a little while to get the feel
of the game, to get the feel of us playing together as a team. Vikram goes out like
a bull at a gate, rampaging round everywhere, and is cautioned for diving. Ryan is
the opposite, starting off so slow he’s almost timid. My boots are a bit of a
problem, but I soon get used to them. Gradually we settle down and slowly,
imperceptibly we take control and are eventually rewarded by a brilliant header goal
from Lofty. At half-time, we’re