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Back My Spare Heart Save as PDF
Chapters (25)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. PRAISE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CHAPTER 1
  5. CHAPTER 2
  6. CHAPTER 3
  7. CHAPTER 4
  8. CHAPTER 5
  9. CHAPTER 6
  10. CHAPTER 7
  11. CHAPTER 8
  12. CHAPTER 9
  13. CHAPTER 10
  14. CHAPTER 11
  15. CHAPTER 12
  16. CHAPTER 13
  17. CHAPTER 14
  18. CHAPTER 15
  19. CHAPTER 16
  20. CHAPTER 17
  21. CHAPTER 18
  22. CHAPTER 19
  23. RESOURCES
  24. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  25. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I told myself this story over and over again for a while, and then I kind of laughed at the absurdity of it all. That’s Mum and Dad’s problem to deal with, not mine, I realised. I need to focus on what I want, like I used to.

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9

I usually loved walking into a basketball stadium, hearing the sound of basketballs hitting the backboard and the court, but walking into the stadium for the tryouts, I felt like being sick. I could taste bile in the back of my throat.

There were a bunch of boys on the court, playing a half-court scratch match. Although Jamie was among them, sweating like no one’s business as usual, I guessed most of the boys were a bit older than me.

I tried to be cool and not make eye contact with them, and when I looked up I could see Hayley and Ashley waving at me from the benches along the wall. When I got nearer they stood up and hugged me.

‘How you going, Pheebs?’ Hayley asked.

‘All ready or what?’ Ashley said.

‘Yeah, I’m pumped,’ I answered even though I was nervous as hell, worried I wouldn’t be able to get it together.

I settled down on the bench as Caroline yelled out, ‘Shoot!’ at one of the boys on the court that had the ball. He shot and the ball bounced off the rim. The other team took possession of it and brought it back down the centre to turn around and move into offence.

Jamie moved across to receive a pass and it flew over his head, in my direction. I caught the ball and this guy ran towards me. Before I could throw the ball to him, he took it from my hands and said, ‘Thanks’ with a cheeky grin.

I checked out his legs, his murntu, his shoulders, his golden skin and hair as he threw the ball back into court. He was wearing a Golden State Warriors jersey, the team I hate the most, yet that didn’t put me off as I watched him brush his golden hair out of his eyes and run back on to the court, receive a pass, drive it to the basket and make a reverse lay-up.

‘Who’s that?’ I asked Caroline.

‘That’s Trent McLean,’ she replied. ‘You met him at my place, remember?’

‘Oh yeah,’ I said, remembering him playing pool with her brother Mitch.

‘Trust me, you don’t want to know him.’

‘Why not?’ To my surprise, I really did want to know him. There was something about him. He stood out to me like the first star in the night’s sky.

‘Where do I start?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘He’s my brother’s friend and … I know,’ she said cryptically. I wanted to know more.