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On Monday morning, the first day of the championships, all the rep teams are gathered in the conference room of my team’s motel for the official welcome breakfast. Adding to the excitement is news that the new teams in the Super League are being announced this week. There’s heaps of speculation about where the new teams are going to be based. I hope we get another team in Queensland, only because the Cutters are mostly set, and they’re hard to break in to.
I spot Charlie at the buffet, which is totally where you’d expect her to be and I head over, hoping that getting some food in my stomach will settle my first-day nerves.
“Hey,” I say as I sidle up to her, checking out the options. It’s actually a pretty good spread. There are the usual bacon and eggs and toast, but they’ve also got a cereal bar and a huge bowl of fruit.
“Hey yourself,” Charlie says as she pours herself a big bowl of cereal. She’s typically upbeat this morning and the nerves she had on the weekend are gone judging by her appetite.
“I thought you’d go for bacon and eggs,” I say as I grab some toast and a couple of packets of butter and vegemite.
“This is just for starters,” Charlie replies. “I’ll be coming back for bacon and eggs as soon as I’m finished with this.”
Typical Charlie. Nan would say she has hollow legs with the amount of food she puts away.
“Still no idea about good nutrition,” says a voice from behind us. As soon as I hear it, I know who it is. Paris is standing there, arms crossed, with some other girls I don’t know. They must be her new fast bowling posse.
“Still obsessed with food,” Charlie replies, apparently undaunted by the daggers Paris is throwing at us both. “Are you sure it’s not you with the problem?”
I can’t help but smile. Charlie’s gotten more confident since the last time we were in the same room as Paris.
Paris ignores Charlie and glares at me. “You still can’t get into a proper rep side.”
“What even is the Development Squad?” one of Paris’s new posses asks the others, air-quoting ‘Development Squad’ as if it’s an insult to be picked for it.
“At least her parents didn’t have to sponsor the team to get her picked,” comes another voice. I turn to see Shari and Ashley walking over. They stand beside me with their arms crossed, mirroring Paris. Our very own rep squad bowling posse to rival Paris’s. I glance at Charlie, who has her mouth full, and she just shrugs. Seems like Shari’s definitely not a part of the Paris Posse anymore.
Paris narrows her eyes. “You’re going down, Wannabe,” she says, pointing at me. “Just like you did last time. And you,” she says, pointing at Charlie. “You’re not even worth my time.”
Before I can point out that there never really was a last time, she slinks off, her followers in tow.
“Are you okay?” I ask Charlie when Paris is gone.
Charlie shrugs. “There’s nothing worse than finding out someone you don’t care about doesn’t care about you back.” She picks a piece of toast off my plate and shoves it in her mouth. “Catch ya on the field, Wannabe.” She winks, and wanders off to her team table.
“What was all that about?” I ask Shari. “Are you two not friends anymore?”
Shari turns to the buffet table. “I transfered to another club and she hasn’t forgiven me for it.” She grabs a plate and starts picking over the food platters. “And FYI, we were never friends. We just happened to be in the same teams together growing up.”
“Why’d you leave your old club?” I ask.
Shari pops a grape into her mouth. “I didn’t want to live in her shadow anymore.”
“Does she even have a shadow?” Ashley jokes. “I’ve heard that demons don’t have them.”
Ashley snorts, laughing at her own joke, making Shari and I laugh with her.
When we’ve filled up our plates, we find a seat at our team’s table. When Ashley sits down beside me, she hands me her phone. “Have you seen this?” she asks, showing me the video of my batting from Facebook.
I nod.
“It’s all over my socials,” Ashley says. “Where’s it from?”
“Training before the local final,” I reply. “A friend of mine recorded it for an assignment.”
“How’d it end up online?” Shari asks.
“Charlie,” I reply, looking over to where Charlie’s sitting with her team mates. She throws her head back and laughs at something I can’t hear, and it makes me smile. “She wrote the article on the Girls in Cricket blog.”
“Oh, I saw that,” Ashley says. “It was a good article.”
“Don’t tell Charlie that,” I say. “She’ll get a big head.”
The tournament director asks for our attention and we listen as he delivers his welcome address. As he drones on, I glance over to Charlie. I don’t know how long she’s been watching me but our eyes lock and she grins, and then she does the ‘blah blah’ talking sign with her hands and rolls her eyes. I know what she means. The sooner he stops talking, the sooner we can get out and play cricket.