Stars! Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Also by Bali Rai

  Copyright

  About the Book

  ‘Who’s getting too big for his boots?’

  Rushton Reds are going to be famous! A TV documentary is being made about the team and Chris, Dal, Abs and Jason can’t wait to show off their skills in front of the cameras.

  But is it more important to look like a star – or to play well as part of the team?

  Will fame go to their heads . . .?

  Chapter 1

  Saturday

  ‘ON MY HEAD, Chris!’

  I looked up and saw my best mate, Dal, running into the opposition penalty area. I had two defenders in my way. I pushed the ball to the left and then flicked it to the right, leaving the opposition players for dead. With the outside of my left foot I crossed the ball towards Dal. But it didn’t go where I meant it to. Instead it sailed behind the goalie and curled into the back of the net. The crowd, all eighty thousand of them, roared! I’d won the Champions League for my team. Liverpool FC were Kings of Europe!

  ‘CHRIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

  I shook my head and opened my eyes. I’d been dreaming. Instead of being at Wembley, playing in the Champions League final, I was at home, in bed. I groaned.

  ‘WAKE UP!’ shouted my mum.

  ‘Coming,’ I mumbled. ‘Just five more minutes . . .’

  Half an hour later I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my breakfast.

  ‘Do you want some more?’ my mum asked.

  I looked down at the porridge in my bowl, all lumpy and tasteless and grey. I shook my head.

  ‘I’ll have a banana,’ I said.

  ‘Make sure you do, and hurry up! You have to be at football in an hour.’

  My real football team was called Rushton Reds and we played in the local junior league. All three of my best friends, Dal, Abs and Jason, played too. And then there were the girls – the Football Barbies. Our team was the only one in the league with girls playing for it and it was kind of embarrassing. The other teams laughed at us and thought we were rubbish. To begin with, we were too. But we’d finally won our first game and now things were on the up. I couldn’t wait to play against Streetly Celtic, our next opponents.

  I play as a striker alongside Abs. Jason plays in midfield and my best friend since I was little, Dal, plays in defence. We’re all pretty good, but then so are the girls, to be honest. Especially Lily, who can do lots of tricks with the ball. I don’t mind about the girls playing any more. I’ve got used to them now, but Abs is always moaning about them and I knew that he would be doing it again when I got to the game.

  ‘Hurry up, Chris!’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m finished,’ I replied, smiling.

  My mum drove me to Streetly Celtic’s ground, which is on the far side of town. Along the way we picked up Dal, who was also running late, and his mum too.

  ‘Hi, Mrs Singh,’ I said.

  ‘Morning, Chris – how are you?’ replied Dal’s mum.

  ‘I’m OK,’ I said, looking at Dal. He was about the same height as me with short brown hair and he was quite big. Not like fat or anything – just broad.

  ‘What?’ he asked with a shrug.

  ‘Huh?’ I replied.

  ‘You’re looking at me,’ he said.

  ‘No I’m not,’ I protested.

  ‘Weirdo . . .’

  ‘Idiot . . .’

  ‘LADS!’ said Mrs Singh in a stern voice.

  ‘Sorry,’ we said at exactly the same time.

  Dal’s mum looked at my mum and they both burst into laughter.

  ‘The same as when they met,’ said Dal’s mum.

  ‘And they’ll be the same when they’re fifty too!’ added mine.

  Then they started talking about boring ‘mum stuff’ and left us alone.

  ‘Can’t wait for the game,’ said Dal.

  ‘Yeah!’ I replied, getting really excited.

  The drive took twenty minutes and the rest of the team were there when we arrived. I almost jumped out of the car I was so eager to start playing. And Dal was right behind me. We ran into the changing rooms.

  Streetly’s pitch used to be a cricket ground and the changing rooms were in an old hut behind one of the goals. The rest of the lads were waiting for us, along with two of our three coaches, Steve and Ian. The third coach, Wendy, was with the girls.

  ‘Let’s keep focused today, lads,’ said Ian as we started to get changed.

  I said hello to some of the other lads – Byron, Ben and Corky, as well as my cousin, Leon – and they said hello back. Next to Corky, I saw one of our goalies, Gurinder. He looked sad.

  ‘What’s up with you?’ I asked him.

  ‘My ankle is still really sore,’ he explained, his shoulders sagging.

  The coaches had taken us paintballing two weekends earlier and Gurinder had slipped in the mud. Our reserve keeper, Gem, had taken over between the posts since then.

  ‘Ian says that I can’t play but I’m OK,’ he said. ‘Honest.’

  I nodded because I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Ian must have told Gurinder he couldn’t play for a reason. It would have been to help him get fit. I told him what I thought, but he just shook his head.

  ‘I think he’d just rather play another girl in the team,’ he told me. ‘That’s what my brother said . . .’

  ‘No way,’ I replied. ‘Gem only got in because you hurt yourself. She’s really good but you’re the first choice. It’s just because your ankle isn’t healed yet.’

  Gurinder shrugged and turned away.

  ‘What’s up with misery guts?’ Abs asked me.

  ‘He can’t play,’ I told him.

  ‘Nor can you,’ he said, trying to make a joke. ‘But that doesn’t stop you from trying!’

  ‘That was the lamest joke in the world, Abs. It was like so unfunny there are people in Australia crying because it was so bad,’ I said.

  ‘Just because you ain’t funny,’ he replied. ‘Peanut-head fool . . .’

  ‘Peanut-head?’ I asked. ‘Where’d you get that from?’

  Abs grinned. He was a bit taller than me and skinny and his hair was shaved to his head. He had tramlines cut into it, three straight lines which ran around his head.

  ‘I told you,’ he said. ‘I’m funny and you ain’t. I got hundreds of them too.’ He nodded towards Dal. ‘He’s a pancake-face,’ he said.

  ‘Er . . .’

  ‘And Jason is a big pasty – with vegetables in it . . . and bigears too!’ he added.

  Jason has ears that stick out quite a lot and masses of freckles. He’s tall too, so he looks a bit funny sometimes. But he’s cool. And he definitely didn’t look like a pasty.

  I turned to Dal, who was listening.

  ‘He’s gone mad,’ I said.

  ‘Gone? He’s always been like that . . .’

  ‘Jealous,’ said Abs.

  ‘RIGHT, LADS!’ shouted Ian.

  We stopped messing about and turned to face him.

  ‘We’ve got a tough game on today,’ he continued. ‘This lot have won their last two fixtures and they score plenty of goals so we need to be aware. Unfortunately Gurinder is still unfit so Gem will continue in goal . . .’

  Abs, Gurinder and Ant, another one of our squad, groaned. Steve, the second coach, gave them a stern look.

  ‘Now now, lads,’ added Ian, ‘there’s no need for that. We are a tea
m with girls in it – get used to it!’

  Abs’s face went red and he looked away. Ant looked down at his feet and Gurinder looked like he was going to start crying. I wanted to laugh but I didn’t. Instead I listened carefully as Steve read out the team sheet.

  ‘Gem in goal and a back four of Leon, Dal, Parvy and Steven. Then it’s Jason, Byron, Corky and Ben, with Abs and Chris up front – OK?’

  No one said anything. There was only one girl playing other than Gem – Parvy; Lily, who had been the star in the last few games, was a substitute.

  ‘Any questions?’ asked Ian.

  ‘Yeah,’ replied Corky. ‘How many substitutes are there?’

  Ian thought about it. ‘We’ve got Lily, Ant, Pete, Penny and Emma,’ he replied. ‘There aren’t any more players.’

  Corky nodded. ‘My sister wants to join,’ he said.

  Abs put his head in his hands.

  Ian smiled. ‘She’s very welcome to come along to the next training session,’ he told Corky.

  ‘We need to get some extra players anyway,’ I added. ‘What if we get more injuries?’

  Abs groaned. ‘Yeah – but we could try asking some lads too,’ he said. ‘Why is every new player an annoying girl?’

  ‘Don’t complain!’ shouted Jason. ‘You love the Barbies . . .’

  ‘Shut up, sardine-breath!’ moaned Abs.

  ‘Sardine-breath?’ asked Dal.

  Steve told us to shut up. ‘Let’s get outside and work through some warm-ups and tactics,’ he said.

  It was windy and cold when we got out onto the pitch and I was glad that we were doing warm-up exercises. I love training, so I was right at the front, jogging round some cones that Wendy, our American coach, had set up. Lily and Parvy were jogging next to me. Lily is short and slim, with long blonde hair. Parvy is our tallest player, alongside Steven and Jason. She’s really athletic and very fast at running. Her hair is black and she wears it in plaits most of the time.

  ‘You OK about being a substitute?’ I asked Lily.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she replied. ‘It’s a team game and today the coaches are trying something new. Besides, Ben’s been a sub since the start of the season and he deserves a game too.’

  I ran round a cone, leading the rest of the squad.

  ‘You must be a bit disappointed,’ I said to Lily.

  ‘Not in the slightest,’ she said. ‘The television people are here again and I don’t want to look terrible on camera, do I?’

  I hadn’t even noticed the TV crew. They were friends with Wendy and they were interested in the Reds because we had girls playing for us. They were going to make a documentary about us – starting with today’s match. We were going to be famous!

  ‘I had my hair done specially for today,’ said Parvy.

  ‘And I got my nails done,’ added Lily.

  ‘Hey?’ I asked, getting confused. ‘We’re playing football – they won’t even see your nails . . .’

  ‘Oh, they will!’ replied Lily. ‘I’ll make sure that they do . . .’

  I shrugged and ran round yet another cone.

  ‘Now where’s my husband?’ asked Lily, talking about Dal. She’d been teasing him ever since we’d all met and Dal went bright red every time she spoke to him. It was well funny.

  ‘He’s back there,’ I told her. ‘Avoiding you.’

  ‘Avoiding me?’ she said, pretending to be upset. ‘Well, that just won’t do at all.’

  She slowed right down and fell back along the line. I grinned at Parvy.

  ‘She’s funny,’ I told her.

  Parvy nodded. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Last one to the next cone is a big fat donkey . . .!’

  She sprinted off and left me behind. I smiled and sprinted after her.

  Chapter 2

  STREETLY KICKED OFF the game and they were all over us for the first five minutes. I spent the beginning of the match helping the team to defend and didn’t get anywhere close to Streetly’s goal. They had some really good players – in the middle were identical twins who were called Ali and Mo.

  Now Mo was running with the ball and as Jason made a challenge, he skipped to the right. Jason was left stranded. I sprinted into the space behind my team-mate and faced up to Mo. Just as he was about to make a pass I stepped in and took the ball away from him. Mo let out a growling sound, but he didn’t try and win the ball back. He just stood where he was and moaned at his brother.

  ‘You could have helped me,’ I heard him shouting.

  I ran through the middle of the pitch and saw Ben out on the left wing. I passed the ball to his feet, just as Ian had shown me. Then I ran into a space, at an angle to Ben, where he could pass me the ball if he wanted to. But he didn’t. Instead he raced down the line and crossed the ball over to the right of Streetly’s penalty area, where Abs picked it up.

  I had a defender next to me and I knew that I had to get rid of him. I turned to face the goal and started to run to the left. The defender, who was about twice my height and heavy with it, followed. But I spun to the right and sprinted into a wide open space in the box.

  ‘ABS!’ I screamed.

  All he had to do was roll the ball in front of me and we’d have a goal.

  But he didn’t do it. Instead I saw him look over at the touchline where the cameraman was holding a small handheld recorder. Then Abs took the ball and started to do tricks with it. The defender facing him went to make a tackle, but Abs rolled the ball under his foot. He spun it left and right and left again and then tried to nutmeg the defender. But he got it wrong and the defender just ran away with the ball.

  ‘ABS!’ I shouted. ‘I WAS IN THE CLEAR!’

  He shrugged and trotted back into position as though there was no problem. He was wrong.

  As I sprinted back to try and dispossess the defender, he passed it to Ali, who went on a twisting, jinking run into our penalty area. Everyone who tried to tackle him failed. Then Steven and Dal made a mistake. Both of them went towards Ali, which let his brother Mo move into a dangerous position.

  I shouted at Parvy, who spotted the danger and left the lad she was marking. But even though she was quick, Ali was quicker. As Steven and Dal closed in, he simply passed the ball into the space they’d left. Mo ran onto the ball and smashed it, just as Parvy flew in. The ball deflected off Parvy’s knee and sent Gem the wrong way.

  It was 1–0 to Streetly!

  ‘NAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ I groaned.

  As I trudged slowly back to the centre, one of the Streetly team wound me up.

  ‘We’re gonna score five!’ he told me.

  ‘In your dreams,’ I told him.

  ‘What you gonna do – get a girl to win the game for you?’ he added.

  I looked over at the touchline where Lily and Penny were talking to the woman who was making the programme.

  ‘We’ll win,’ I told the lad. ‘Just watch . . .’

  He laughed at me and walked off.

  From the restart Streetly were on the attack again and I could hear our coaches screaming at us from the sidelines. They were right too. We weren’t playing like a team. We had no shape and every time we got the ball, instead of passing it to each other, we were losing it.

  And Abs was on another planet. I played him in behind the defender twice in the next ten minutes. Each time, instead of passing the ball into space for me or another player to run onto, he stopped and started to do fancy tricks. But he kept getting them wrong and losing the ball. I was getting really angry with him. It was like he was trying to be a star instead of playing for the team.

  Finally we managed to get hold of the ball and keep it for a while. Parvy started a really good move by turning her opponent inside out and then going on a run down the left. She skipped past two Streetly players and turned inside. Looking up, she squared the ball to Jason, who took it on. He beat his marker and played Corky in.

  Corky ran for the box and got to the touchline, where he crossed the ball along the ground. Ben, who had come
in from his position on the wing, received the ball with his back to goal. There were two defenders behind him, and instead of trying to take them on he passed the ball to me.

  I tried to turn inside my marker but there was no space. Ali was snapping at my heels and I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly Abs ran across me and told me to lay the ball off to him. I hesitated for a split second before passing.

  Abs took the ball in his stride and beat his defender. He was one on one with their goalie.

  ‘SHOOT!’ I heard our coaches shout at the same time.

  But Abs didn’t shoot. Instead he tried to run the ball into the net by taking on their goalkeeper. That gave Mo all the time he needed and he robbed the ball off Abs’s toe and cleared it. The ball ran out for a throw-in.

  ‘Idiot!’ I shouted.

  The ref ran over and told me to watch my language.

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ I said.

  ‘No more of that, son,’ he warned.

  Abs trotted up to me and shrugged. ‘I’m gonna do him next time,’ he boasted. ‘Just watch. Those TV people are going to love me!’

  I wanted to say something but I didn’t. Instead I walked off and stood with Jason, waiting for the game to begin again.

  ‘He’s showing off for the camera,’ Jason said.

  ‘I know,’ I replied. ‘And it’s not fair. We should be winning by now . . .’

  Jason nodded in agreement as Corky took the throw-in. The ball fell to Abs and, with the defender right behind him, all he had to do was pass to Parvy, who was free.

  But Abs tried to back-heel the ball and nutmeg his defender. The ball bounced off the defender’s shin pads and went straight to Mo, who set off on another run. This time he passed to Streetly’s right winger. The winger was short and skilful and he turned Leon inside out. Leon stumbled and went down holding his ankle. The winger crossed for Ali, who controlled the ball and beat Gem at the near post.

  2–0!

  This time I didn’t moan. Instead I got the ball and ran back to the centre circle with it. We had five minutes left in the first half and I was determined that we would get at least one goal back. From the start I ignored Abs and passed to Ben. He ran down the left wing, with me and Byron close by. Ben passed to Byron, who didn’t waste any time. He passed the ball straight on to me. By this point Ben was in more space and I took one touch and then played Ben in behind his defender.