“I will,” I say.
I also make a mental note to ask Mr.Ringling about my dad. If he taught Mum, he must have taught him too. And perhaps he’d be prepared to tell me more than Mr.Ward was.
“Which other teachers do you have?” Mum asks.
“Ms.Ventura for PE and Mr.Ward for English and maths.”
“Ward?” Mum echoes. Her voice has changed, and there’s something about her tone that I don’t like. “Not Alaric Ward, surely?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Not really,” she says. “He was in my year. I didn’t know he’d gone into teaching.”
I say nothing, hoping she’ll tell me more. But it doesn’t work.
“What’s he like?” she asks.
“I don’t think he’s very popular with anybody,” I say. “He seems kind of... bitter.”
Mum gives a cautious nod. “Has he said anything to you?”
“Why do you ask?” I say. “I mean, why would he say anything to me?”
“Nothing. I just wondered. Given your surname, he’d be bound to.”
“He did mention Dad,” I say, and see her expression harden. “He said I look like him. But that was all.” And it’s probably better if Mum doesn’t know that I asked him about my dad. Or that he didn’t want to talk to me.
“You sure do.” Mum’s smiling, but it looks kind of strained. “I’m sure Mr.Ringling must be nicer, though. Is he?”
There’s more to this, more to find out about Mr.Ward and my parents, I’m sure of it. Otherwise Mum wouldn’t have changed the subject so abruptly.
But I don’t know what it is. Or why I’m not allowed to hear about it. But I know that if I’m going to find out, it’ll be here, in this place.
Henry
What was I thinking, showing up to this open training thing? Did I think it wouldn’t be this bad? Wow. At least past-Henry had a sense of humor.
Jeez, this is awful. It was bad enough just turning up among all the other potential new team members. Everyone else who’s come to the trials is way younger than me. No surprise there. Most boys here have played rugby since the juniors, and thejunior teams are obviously the best way into the seniors. It’s rare for anyone to want to start as late as this. Maybe I should spare myself the humiliation and walk away. But that would be just as embarrassing at this point.
I can feel the weight of Valentine Ward’s and Mr.Cormack’s eyes on me as we warm up and pair off for the first drills. I’m partnered with Gideon, who’s already on the team, and although I’m sure he’s not putting his full strength into the throws, it’s still brutal enough. We have to run half the length of the rugby pitch, throwing and catching the ball as we go, and by the time I try to circle the cone to head back again, my knees are so weak that I fall flat on my face in the muddy grass. My hip hurts like hell, my thighs are burning as fiercely as my lungs, and I don’t want to know how red my face is. I’d say I’m really giving it everything, but apparently, that’s not enough. I can see it in Val’s mocking expression. He yells a few words of encouragement in our direction, then goes to stand next to Mr.Cormack, who’s making notes on the clipboard in his hand, his face inscrutable.
I want to stop. Ineedto stop. Or I’ll throw up. Oh, God, no.I’m about to pretend that my laces need retying when Mr.Cormack blows his whistle, almost splitting my eardrums.
“Good. Everyone new, come to me!” he roars. The team carry on their training without him, while we trudge over. All I can see around me are red, sweaty faces and mud-smeared bodies. I look longingly in the direction of my water bottle, miles away in the stands. A moment later, I hold my breath as I notice the girl passing by all our jackets and kit bags.
It’s Emma, running on the track that circles the pitch. Thefloodlights are on, and the red-orange sunset has almost completely faded. I look up at the clock on the electronic scoreboard opposite. It’s already half past nine... Is she really training voluntarily at this time in the evening? I wonder if Grace did take her along to the track team.
“Bennington.” At that moment, I hear Mr.Cormack’s voice. “A little less staring into space and a little more concentration, if you don’t mind.”
I tear my eyes away. “Yes, sir.”
He stares at me for a moment, then at his clipboard. “Good. Baker, Valtersen, DiSanto, Hsuan, you’re in. Training on Monday and Thursday evenings at seven thirty, and on Wednesdays at five. An hour’s weights in the gym every Tuesday, and Fridays too, although that’s optional. If you have any other questions, ask Valentine. Fifteen minutes’ cooldown now, and you can go.”
I shiver as the others thank him and wander away. They’re all third- and fourth-formers, and they were way better than me. There’s no denying it.
I jump as I hear my name.
“Bennington, Stokes, Meskill.” Mr.Cormack looks us in the eye, and I have trouble meeting his gaze. “You’ve got a month to show me you can do better. You were poor today. I expect you to do extra training so that you can get somewhere near the team’s level. The rest of you can try again next year.”
