Chapter 9: Physical Education

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We burst into PE unceremoniously. We'd snuck in the back door of the blocks that lead into the main hall so that we could sneak through into the changing rooms without going past the teachers' office. But as I flung open the door and stumbled in, dragging a rather bemused Jay, I felt a chilling sweat drip down the back of my neck. Sixty odd pairs of fascinated eyes were trained on me and Jay.

"Ah, so nice of you to join us, Mr Jamieson," called the teacher –Coach Lars– as we slowly slid down onto the floor to join the rest of the class. For some reason all three PE sets that were on during this period had been trooped into the main hall. How fucking typical.

"So care to explain why you're late, Ash?" he enquired. The words seemed pleasant enough but there was a slight tone of mockery in his voice. Barely detectable, but still there all the same. "Decided it wasn't worth your time trying to bunk off my class again?"

A low hiss of laughter spread through the gym and I put on a heavy scowl. My mum and dad (and Linda) had attended this very high school when they were younger, each leaving behind a small legacy of trophies. My mum was captain of the girls' netball and football teams, while my dad was a frequent cross-country runner. In fact, it was their loves of sports that had drawn them together. The many awards and shields still stood proudly in the display cabinet, glimmering behind a wall of glass. Coach Lars hadn't bothered to conceal his excitement when I told him I was a Jamieson. He hadn't bothered to conceal his disappointment when it turned out I sucked at all PE either.

"That was once," I defended quietly, trying to ignore the beady eyes all scrutinizing me. "And I was at the guidy office with Jay. He's new."

At once all attention was focused on Jay. I suppose with him being all shy and awkward his presence was easy enough to overlook at first, especially considering that me; everyone's favourite scapegoat was currently getting it in the neck. They were more preoccupied by the show.

"So, he's your partner in crime, eh?" Coach Lars stalked over to us, circling us and judging Jay carefully. I could see him squirming under Lars poured over him, a hungry look in his eye.

"Play any sports?" he barked. Jay jumped a little.

"Um, football, hockey, basketball, rugby, er... I can swim a bit," Jay blushed, avoiding everybody's now admiring gaze. "And I'm a karate black belt."

Lars let out a low whistle. "Impressive. What's your name kid?"

"Jay McCallion."

"Linda Dalton's kid?"

An unreadable expression flashed in Jay's eyes causing me to frown. But he swallowed and forced it down, along with the rising lump in his throat. He coughed and looked down at the dirty marked floor.

"Yeah."

"Excellent!" smiled Lars, slapping him on the back with a touch more force than necessary. But Jay was pretty tough and well-built to boot, so he survived the blow that probably would have knocked me off my feet. "Linda was a brilliant swimmer too, so it must be in the genes! Anyway how about you introduce yourself to the rest of the class, hm? You're in luck, all the PE sets are joining up for this block... we're doing football!"

An enthusiastic cheer swept through half the room. The top two sets whooped and cheered while the bottom two sets (my set) paled considerably. I loathed football with a passion. Lars held up his broad hands to silence the crowd.

"Ok everyone listen up! Jay here is gonna introduce himself and stuff... Get going kid."

It was a measure of confidence. Lars had made Jay stand up in front of a crowd so that he could test his confidence. It was kind of cruel really, and I clenched my fists when I saw Jay's face pale slightly. Nobody else would noticed, but seeing as I'd been sharing a bed and everything with him, I'd pretty much memorised his physical appearance.

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