The icy grass crunches beneath my boots. A cold wind lifts up my skirt and I quickly smack it down again. I hate wearing skirts and I feel like the whole world can see my undies. My big sister gave me her boots but they are too big. Mum stuffed some toilet paper in them and promised me a new pair - maybe, if I play well.
- It's bloody freezing way back here. I'm the left wing, Sharon's the right wing and Jenny is the goalie. We've been playing for ages and the ball hasn't come down here once. Sharon is talking to some boys on the sideline and Jenny is watching a kite flapping around in the wind. Me, I am trying to keep my eye on the ball cause I want to be ready. The coach says that if I can play as good as my sister she'll move me into an attack position. “Hockey-one, hockey-two, hockey-three”, I say quietly and imagine giving the ball a really hard WHACK!
- Jenny doesn't like me much. She just had her tenth birthday and she invited all the girls from the team - except me. I heard it was really good and they all slept over at Jenny's house. They said that Jenny got a brand new record player for her birthday and an Abba record. Jenny told Sharon and Sharon told me that she didn't like me cause I was a 'tomboy' and my hair was curly. I've been wearing my sister's Girl Guide hat to bed every night but my hair won't stay flat.
- A skinny girl with big long bony legs is dribbling the ball this way. I hang on tight to my stick and move up to block her. She smells like sunlight soap as she flies past me and spins the ball towards the goal. Jenny gives me a real greaser as the ball hits the back of the net. The whistle blows. One nil to them and it's all my fault.
- “Defence! Lift your game,” says the coach - looking right at me. I can feel my face go bright red, the same colour as my stupid short skirt. A hard poke in the back makes me spin around. “Sorry”, says Jenny but then she sort of laughs and says, “Curly-headed tomboy freak”. Everyone laughs and the coach just looks away and I look down at my toilet paper stuffed boots.
- I reach out for the last bit of orange and Jenny shoves her elbow into me and grabs it from the plate. “Sucker”, she says as she puts the fruit up to her mouth “WHAAA”, screams Jenny. A wasp flies away as Jenny's lower lip starts to swell like a big red toffee apple.
- They strap on the fat pads to my legs and I can hardly walk. I've never played goal before and I'm terrified. I have to keep wiping my hands on my skirt to stop my stick slipping. I never wanted to be the goalie, I wanted to play centre and do the hockey-one, hockey-two, hockey-three thing and get past all the girls and sticks and whack the ball into the goal and go to the birthday parties and sing Abba songs.
- Hopefully, the wasp will come back and sting me and I can go home wrapped in a blanket, like Jenny. But I can't see the wasp. I can see Sharon talking to the boys and I can see the kite as it comes crashing down and I can see the bony-leg girl rushing toward me and aiming and swinging her stick up real high and … the ball hits the back of the net.
- My toes scrunch up against the toilet paper as I trudge home.
