in two games. That way, I get to see you play against every member of the first team. Any questions? OK, grab a drink and we’ll start.’
Kenny was taking a glug from a water bottle when he felt a tug at his shoulder. A tall, skinny lad from the first team was beside him.
‘I’m Dionte,’ he said. ‘You’re the new kid, Kevin, right?’
‘Close. It’s Kenny.’
‘Kenny.’ Dionte repeated, making a mental note. ‘You’ve got some nice moves. You any good?’
‘I’m OK,’ Kenny said.
‘Well, don’t be too good, if you know what I’m saying.’ Dionte lowered his voice. ‘You see that big guy over there? That’s Brandon, the coach’s son. He’s the star player on the team and he likes it that way. Watch out for him; he’s got a mean streak.’
‘Let’s go, ladies,’ Heagney called, signalling for the start.
The first match was a tough 5–5 draw, with Kenny scoring twice and setting up two goals for his team of newcomers. He came off to a round of whoops from the cheer squad.
For the second game, Kenny found himself facing Brandon at the kick-off. ‘Think you’re something special, huh?’ Brandon muttered, towering over Kenny. ‘We’ll see about that.’
The match kicked off with Brandon passing the ball forward to Dionte on the left wing, before surging past Kenny and administering a hard shove as he raced by. Kenny hit the grass hard, but rolled as Kiyomi had taught him, springing back to his feet. It was too late. Dionte crossed for Brandon who steamrollered two defenders to nod the ball home, past the flailing goalkeeper.
The first teamers immediately scored again from the restart. Brandon clattered into a player attempting to dribble past, collected the ball and fired a long pass into the box, for a teammate to smash goalwards.
‘We’re getting murdered here,’ one of Kenny’s players grumbled. ‘The ref isn’t giving us anything.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Kenny said. ‘You two, make a run down the wings, draw the defenders to you. You and you, drop back in case of a counter. Leave me space in the middle.’
‘You sure about this?’ someone asked.
‘What do we have to lose? We’re two down already.’
Coach Heagney signalled for the kick-off. ‘You guys ready?’ He put his whistle to his lips.
Kenny closed his eyes and remembered his training: all matter was composed of energy and that energy could be harnessed and shaped by will. He’d been encouraged to practise, so why not now?
PHEEEEEP! Dionte touched the ball forward and Brandon charged towards it like a thundering rhinoceros. Kenny reached the ball first, flicked it up with his left toe and then hammered it on the volley straight upwards with his right, while falling backwards. The game stopped as everyone stared at the ball rocketing higher and higher into the peach-hued sky.
Coach Heagney squinted upwards, his chewing gum falling from his open mouth, as the ball vanished from view. He shook his head, then spluttered, ‘What the heck was that? Did you just lose the ball?’
Kenny sauntered over to stand by the goal post.
‘You! Blackwood! Didn’t you hear . . .?’ The coach’s voice trailed off as the ball reappeared and dropped out of the sky. It didn’t have time to bounce as Kenny tapped it into the goal with the side of his foot.
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Heagney muttered.
‘That’s not fair!’ Brandon screamed. ‘The ball was out of play. The goalkeeper wasn’t even in the goal.’
‘Two–one,’ Heagney called, holding up his fingers to show the score. ‘Final play. Next goal wins.’
‘You are dead meat,’ Brandon snarled into Kenny’s face.
BZZZT! Kenny’s wrist tingled. With a scowl, he checked the screen on his smartwatch. It had buzzed to indicate the arrival of a message from Kiyomi.
The text was typically blunt: MEET ME OUT FRONT – NOW. WE’VE GOT TROUBLE.
Kenny scowled. This was not good. ‘Coach? How much time do we have left?’
Heagney peered at his battered stopwatch. ‘About three minutes.’
‘Great,’ Kenny muttered to himself. He’d have to make this fast.
The whistle blew. After a quick exchange of short passes, Kenny received the ball and bore down hard on goal. He skipped past two challenges and was about to shoot when a large shadow from the corner of his eye signalled Brandon was flying in. Kenny sensed a two-footed, studs-up lunge, coming for his shins. Without breaking stride, he flicked the ball upwards, back-heeled it over his head and dived past Brandon’s incoming legs.
Kenny’s palms hit the turf; he hunched his shoulders, tucked his head in and dropped his elbows to complete a forward roll. Then he sprang forward at full stretch to connect with the ball, heading it past the astonished keeper. Behind him, he heard a lumbering Brandon hit the ground.
‘AAAAH! My ankle!’ Brandon rolled around, clutching his boot.
‘Can I go now, sir?’ Kenny asked.
‘Wha –? How the –? Yes, you can go, Blackwood.’ Heagney snatched up his first-aid bag and raced over to where Brandon lay, wailing.
Kenny sped away from the football pitch.
‘Kenny! That was amaz– Hey! Where are you going?’ Stacey yelled, as he sprinted past.
‘I’m a superhero. I’m off to save the world,’ Kenny called over his shoulder.
‘Kenny Blackwood, you get back here!’ Stacey threw down her pompoms.
Kiyomi was waiting on her customised motorcycle, tapping one foot on the ground and revving the engine softly. She was wearing her black biker leathers and the mirrored visor of her helmet was up, reflecting a vapour trail in the golden sky.
Kenny’s heart fluttered, as it often did when he saw her. He slowed and ran a hand through his hair to tame it.
Kiyomi glared at him. ‘What took you so lo–?’ Her eyes widened and she struggled to stifle the smile stealing over her lips. ‘Why are you wearing . . .? No!’
‘Yep.’ Kenny spread his arms in surrender. ‘I reckon I made the team. The coach said we had to impress him and I was so good I impressed myself.’
Kiyomi arched an eyebrow. ‘Still as modest as ever, I see.’ She thumped the seat behind her. ‘We’ve got to go. Oni on the move.’
‘In broad daylight? How many?’
‘At least two. Papa suspects there’s something bigger going on, so we’re to observe and report.’
Kenny climbed on to the back of the bike. ‘Only watching?
