The blonde girl, Kelly, sidled up beside her friend. ‘Toula’s the drama captain. She’s recruiting for the school play.’
Finn had been surreptitiously watching Kelly all morning. She was even prettier close up. ‘Are you in it?’ he asked impulsively, immediately regretting the question when her cheeks went bright red.
‘I’m in the backstage crew.’
‘You should audition,’ Toula said.
‘What’s the play?’
‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.’
Kelly grinned. ‘You’d make a good Oompa Loompa.’
Finn smiled. She was funny, too. ‘Might need some fake tan. I don’t think I’m orange enough.’
She giggled.
Finn stared. He didn’t have a clue what to say next.
Toula watched them both with narrowed eyes.
‘Heads!’ came a call from the cricket pitch.
Toula and Kelly ducked for cover, their hands protecting their skulls. Finn tracked the ball, then reached out and caught it one-handed, saving Toula from being hit square on the head.
She stared up at his hand, the ball safely gripped between his fingers. ‘I told you I hate this game,’ she said.
Oliver ran up to the group. ‘Nice catch,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’
‘You play cricket?’
‘Yep.’
‘Bat or bowl?’
‘Both.’
‘Wanna be on my team?’
‘Sure.’
***
Finn scuffed his feet as he walked. He was in no rush to get home. He hated their new house. Hated how small it was. Hated how far away it was from his old friends. Hated that his dad wasn’t there. Hated his dad for leaving them. Hated that building company for losing all their money. Hated the memory of his dad’s voice telling his mum that it was all gone. Everything. That it was all his fault. That he was so sorry. That he couldn’t live with the shame.
Hated himself for not being enough to keep his dad alive.
The heavy weight on his shoulders was a constant companion now, but at least his first day at the new school had gone pretty well. Once the boys realised he could play cricket, he was in. They all wanted to be his friend after he hit a huge six.
And that girl, Kelly. She was cool. He’d like to hang out with her, too. He just wasn’t sure how to do that. He’d never been interested in being friends with a girl before, but something had changed. Looking at her gave him a kind of empty feeling in his stomach, like he was sick and excited at the same time. It was weird.
Finn unlocked the door and took off his shoes. His mum was always telling him that the soles of your shoes are disgusting; it was like bringing a public toilet into your house. He washed his hands, another home-time ritual, and changed out of his school uniform and into his home clothes of shorts and a T-shirt.
He loaded up the computer. There was more than an hour before his mum got home from work and it was the only time he could play Call of Duty, even though it made him feel bad; his mum had told him that violent video games turned you into a psychopath and she’d banned them. As much as he didn’t like doing the wrong thing, he couldn’t help it when it came to Call of Duty. It was completely addictive.
So addictive that Finn was startled by the sound of the front door closing. He hadn’t even heard it open. He checked the time: 5:15. ‘Shit,’ he muttered.
