Gracie Faltrain Takes Control Read Online Free Page A

him. Or punched him. Or called him an idiot.
    I can’t really complain; most times for me that’s a positive, but once in a while it’d be good to get a little reaction. At least I don’t have to worry about Martin breaking up with me. I’d only have to hang around for five minutes and he’d forget why he’d done it.
    â€˜Wait’ll you hear the news, Faltrain,’ he says at practice this afternoon.
    â€˜What?’
    Coach walks out from the change room and starts yelling before Martin has a chance to answer. ‘Right, team,’ he shouts, moving backwards and forwards like a shark about to feed. ‘I’ve got news. Big news.’ He spreads his hands wide to show us the size he’s talking about. My stomach twitches. The last timewe had news that wide we entered the Championships. ‘We’re playing in the Firsts competition this year.’
    My twitches are so big after he says that, it’s like my insides are dancing. I can tell by the way everyone’s shifting around that they feel the same. The Firsts is the top inter-school competition. We’ve never entered a team before. ‘No point in entering if you’re not good enough,’ Martin told me a couple of years ago. ‘You just end up looking stupid.’
    â€˜I’m putting together fifteen of the best players we have,’ Coach goes on. ‘Everyone in the school can try out for it. That means you need to be serious if you want to make it.’
    â€˜What happens if we don’t get picked?’ Corelli asks the million-dollar question. ‘Do we still get to play soccer this season?’
    â€˜I want two teams. One to keep going at the level we are now. Another to play inter-school Firsts.’ Everyone here knows what that means. If you don’t make the Firsts then you’re second best.
    â€˜I have to be on that team, Martin.’
    He doesn’t answer. His eyes are locked on Coach.
    â€˜Firsts season starts at the end of the month. This year the final is being televised,’ Coach says. ‘Talent scouts’ll be there. If you’re good enough you could get picked to represent the state.’
    Okay. My whole body is twitching now. I feel like I’ve drunk fifty cups of coffee in a row. And I don’t drink coffee.
    â€˜For the next two weeks I’m opening up practice to anyone in the school who wants a shot. After that there’ll be tryout matches. I’ll pick from those. Now drop and show me what you’re worth. I want twenty push-ups.’
    â€˜I’ll die if I don’t make that team,’ I say, forcing my shakingarms straight for the fifteenth time. I’m so excited I barely feel the pain. ‘We’re going to win the final on television. We’ll get picked to play on the state team.’
    â€˜Pretty sure you’ll make it, then?’ Flemming asks.
    â€˜You just worry about yourself,’ I answer. ‘I know I’m good enough.’
    â€˜You think you’re so good, Faltrain, give me twenty more push-ups after everyone’s finished,’ Coach yells. I might be excited, but I’m not insane. After forty push-ups, believe me, I feel it. I’m glad today that my boyfriend is a goldfish. He drops down beside me and gives Coach another twenty as well.
    Martin and I stay on the field until the light fades. We chase circles around each other, stealing the ball and running for goal. He’s playful tonight; he knows he can kick any way he wants and still make the shot. This is the Martin I love, so confident on the soccer field that he barely has to try. This is the Martin I want. He runs and all the sadness drops away. I’d give anything to keep him like this.
    I race up beside him and kick the ball forwards. He looks surprised when I don’t chase it. I catch him instead. Kiss him. I feel the blood rushing along my arms, flooding my skin. ‘You didn’t kick a goal,