Fillipa

Jealous

As us girls and boys wonder into separate change rooms, Ashley throws me another grin, from a few meters behind me. As I am going up the steps to the girls change room, I hear a loud yell, “FREAK BOY!!!” I am turning my head to see, and one of the other boys from my class, has pinned Ashley up against the wall by his black t-shirt. Is Mrs. Day seeing this? I don’t know. The boy that is pinning Ashley to the wall is very fat and does not have much of a neck, but is obviously a very popular boy. He whispers something into Ashley’s ear, with Ashley trying to hold back tears, and I can see his chest is going in and out a billion kilometers an hour. Fat boy hears the teacher coming, and quickly drops Ashley on the ground and runs to the boys change room. Ashley trips over, but catches himself just before Mrs. Day pokes her head in around the corner.

I quickly run into the girls change room with the other girls. Some of them just dump their bags strait onto the hooks, and some of them change into other shirts and show of their perfectly flat stomachs. Then I just walk strait out and into the gym with the other people who are also waiting for the others. I dangle my legs off the stage, and stare at a knot in the wood. Then fat boy suddenly sits next to me and gives me a disgusting, stupid grin. “Hi Fillipa!” he says in a casual voice, as if I did not have a clue what happened earlier at all. This boy is disgusting. I quickly get up and run to the other side of the stage and sit there. Fat boys face has gone a bright shade of red and there is a huge frown plastered on it. He mutters something under his breath. Ashley is the third last to come out of the change rooms. His green eyes wide and his mouth small, he looks a tad shaken up, and I don’t blame him for hiding up in the boys change rooms for a bit from fat boy if that’s why. He looks at me with sad eyes but says nothing. Poor thing, I would have done the same. I give him a small look of sympathy and he squirms slightly.

“I can tell he has a crush on you.....” Ashley says, staring into space, most likely Ashley-land. YUCK!!! Fat boy likes me?! Gross! The last girl to come out of the girls change room is very tall with a purple pixie cut. She goes and sits down at the other end of the stage we are sitting on. I look back at Ashley; his jet black hair falls over one of his eyes, still looking into space or Ashley land until Mrs. Day suddenly calls out the attendance and grabs an IPad out of nowhere. Tall purple pixie cut girl is first. Abby Anderson. With a name like that she could a nice girl or a bully. I don’t pay much attention until my name is said. “Fillipa Brighton? It looks like we have a new student.” “Here,” I kind of mumble-shout. The teacher ticks my name off on the IPad. Ashley does the same when his name is called, and his last name is pierce, pretty ordinary. So there is nothing to worry about. Mrs. Day only just hears him and shoots him a surprised look when she sees me next to him. And once she finishes the attendance, she claps he hands and says with slightly fake enthusiasm, “Okay, today class..... We will be playing hockey!!” oh my god no. Not hockey! Nooooooooooo! Please no. I hear some none happy groans, but a few exited yes’s. So it looks like both Ashley and I hate hockey so much. As soon as Mrs. Day pulls out a tatty cardboard box from the storage room that has blue and green plastic hockey sticks in it, some of the hockey fans of the class very quickly jump of the stage and run to the box and grab a hockey stick each. Then Mrs. Day says “Put them down please! We haven’t started yet!” she chuckles. The hockey-lovers just drop their hockey sticks and stare at her. THEN SHE STARTS EXPLAINING THE RULES. I sigh, board. “She could at least make us play soccer or football. ‘Cos their more entertaining to watch then this crap! Anyways, what football team do you go for?” Ashley whispers, I agree with him. They are more entertaining. “I don’t really follow football, but most of my family go for either Collingwood or Sydney swans.” Nice conversation starter, Ashley. “What’s yours?” I ask him. “Ummmm...... western bulldogs......” he gives a small grin.

As Ashley goes back into Ashley land, I go into Fillipa land and stare at his elbow for a while, and he is staring at his feet. After what feels like a hundred million years, the teacher finally stops explaining how to play. The hockey fans grab their hockey sticks again and wait for everyone else. I try to get off the stage gracefully, but epic fail and I end up almost jamming my feet. Ouch it hurts. Ashley gets off, kind of confidently, because he has done it before. We walk over to the box with the hockey sticks in it and grab to green ones as Mrs. Day picks out goalies.