Free Stuff Happens by Will Kostakis Page B

Me, too.’
    Mr Johnson had used up the entire whiteboard. ‘Is everybody finished with the first line?’ he asked.
    We were supposed to be taking notes off the whiteboard and I hadn’t even gotten my pen out yet! ‘Ah, Mr Johnson, I –’
    Too late. He didn’t hear me and wiped off his writing.
    Jeff angled his book towards me. ‘He writes fast, you’ll get used to it. Just copy me.’
    â€˜Thanks.’
    Mr Johnson must have heard us. ‘Silent writing,’ he said, still facing the board.
    It was enough to make me almost jump out of my seat. Jeff tried not to laugh.
    I opened my book to the second page (my teachers back home always liked title pages) and started copying notes from Jeff’s book. I had almost completely caught up when he whispered, ‘Hey.’
    â€˜Yeah?’
    â€˜Do you want to play with us at recess?’
    I was so happy I couldn’t say anything at first. ‘Sure,’ I said, eventually.
    â€˜Cool. You’re on my team.’
    I didn’t understand. ‘Your team?’
    â€˜Yeah, my mates and I play soccer and stuff at recess and lunch.’
    Of course he wanted me to play – I’d told him I liked soccer. It was a tiny lie, I had wanted him to like me, I didn’t think I’d actually have to prove it. ‘Um,’ I started, ‘before, when I said I –’
    Mr Johnson repeated, ‘Silent writing,’ a little louder than before.
    I was starting to understand what Huck had meant about the eyes in the back of Mr Johnson’s head. I looked back down at my work. Suddenly, I was dreading recess. I had until then to learn how to play soccer!
_____
    When the bell rang, I followed Jeff to the large concrete play area. It was a sea of white hats and schoolkids playing handball, basketball, footy everywhere.
    The other boys were waiting for us under the basketball hoop. They all rolled their sleeves up the same way. They stopped talking when we got close. Did they not like me? Or worse, could they tell I didn’t play?
    Jeff passed me the ball and I caught it (just).
    â€˜Sean, you can start,’ he said.
    We divided into two teams of four. My heart was going crazy. There was no way I could bluff my way through a soccer match and it was way too late for me to admit to lying.
    I placed the ball down at my feet. The only thing I knew about soccer was that you were supposed to kick with the inside of your foot. I’d tried once before, but I could never make the ball go where I wanted it to.
    â€˜Come on,’ one of Jeff’s mates said.
    I pulled my foot back and shut my eyes. This was it.
    â€˜Sean Summers!’
    I opened my eyes. Mr Johnson was crossing the play area.
    When he was close enough, he asked, ‘Sean, where’s your hat?’
    I glanced around. I was the only person out in the sun without one. I had left it on the kitchen counter at home. ‘I forgot it,’ I said.
    â€˜Come on, can’t he play?’ Jeff pleaded.
    Mr Johnson sighed. ‘I know it’s his first day, but rules are rules.’
    He pointed over to the other end of the playground, where a group of kids without hats sat in the shade. ‘No Hat, No Play,’ he recited.
    It was
perfect
. Jeff wouldn’t know I wasn’t a soccer fan.
    â€˜But Mr Johnson!’ Jeff pleaded.
    Mr Johnson just shook his head.
    I handed Jeff back the ball and walked to the shade. From there, I had a perfect view of Jeff and his friends. They used two bins as goals and Jeff was the first to score a point. He threw his arms up and his team celebrated.
    I should have been happy Jeff didn’t find me out, but I wasn’t. I had gone from almost playing a game with seven other boys to being the new kid, sitting all alone.
    And I missed home more than ever.

I went straight to the No Hat, No Play area at lunch. I had just finished my chicken wrap when someone from Mr Johnson’s class