The Life and Times of Gracie Faltrain Read Free Page B

she’s a girl. No one says that, though.
    I get the feeling they’re all waiting. They want Faltrain to stuff up. And when she does, that’ll be it. Not even I’ll be able to help her.
    I remember the match that made the guys really angry. We needed to win to get into the finals. There were ten minutes left in the game and the score was 5–5. Something just clicked between us, like we knew what the player ahead of us was thinking. Ross kicked to Ed who kicked to Buckley who kicked to Faltrain who just ran away with the ball. She was too far out to try for goal. She should have passed. Flemming was next in line. She scored an impossible goal with five minutes to spare. We won, but somehow Faltrain left us feeling like we’d lost.
    I went to talk to her after that match; I was all ready to say, ‘Faltrain, every single guy on this squad wants you off. Whether you make the goal or not.’ But when I found her, shewas just staring at the field. I’d never seen her stand so still before. ‘What are you doing ?’ I asked. ‘Faltrain? Everyone’s gone home.’
    â€˜I’m remembering the game, Martin,’ she said. ‘I’m piecing it all together so I can tell Dad everything.’
    She sort of made sense to me that day because after Mum left, Dad stopped coming to watch me play. I’d run home and act out the whole game for him, try to turn the lounge-room rug into the ground, just for five minutes. I stopped when I realised Dad wasn’t seeing the soccer match or the captain of the team. He was just seeing his son on the mat in front of the telly, and really, he’d rather just see the telly.
    I reckon maybe that’s why Faltrain started to play like she did. Maybe her dad just missed out on one too many games. Sometimes I watch her, though, and I think the real reason she plays is for herself, just because she can.
    This time I have to tell her. I’ll say, ‘Faltrain, soccer’s more than just kicking goals.’
    I’ll say it quickly. And then I’ll run.
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ANDREW FLEMMING
    Yeah, I want her out. She was different at the start. She showed us she could play and she listened to us. She was great in the midfield. Now she doesn’t care if we win as long as she does.
    I remember this one game, the score was 5–5 with ten minutes left. Ed took the ball off their striker and started this chain reaction. It flew from one boot to the next. It was magic, until it got to Faltrain. It was too far between her and the goal. It was too easy to miss. Everyone on the team was shouting at her to pass it to me. I was right in front of the goal. She just ignored us. She made it, but if she’d missed we’d have lost our chance at the finals. One day she will miss and I don’t want it to be at the Championships.
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MARTIN
    Reckon your problem might be that she’s a girl, Flemming?
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FLEMMING
    You know what the problem is with her. She doesn’t listen to you or Coach or anyone else anymore. You’re just too busy thinking about her because she is a girl. That’s your problem. Start thinking with your head or we’ll lose the Championships.
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MARTIN
    Shut up, Flemming. You don’t know what you’re talking about.
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ROSS SINGH
    I can see a lot from down in defence. I remember the game Flemming’s talking about. It was close, so close I didn’t think we’d make it. I watched Faltrain score that goal. I saw her fighting to get that ball. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her play like that either. Sure, she made the shot, but the thing was, from the other end of the field it looked like she had to fight both sides to kick it. And that sort of playing only wins you games for so long.
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GRACIE
    When Martin tells me about the Championships I just keep thinking, I hope we win. Please let us win. And please let Dad be there to see it. I race Martin to the bus stop and keep my