Our fourth cartoon is due to be published on Monday, and I am particularly nervous about it.
It is the one about Miss Fowler’s marking practices that I came up with on the day our first cartoon was published. Given how critical it is of Miss Fowler, I got cold feet about it, and convinced Will we should delay sending it in. In the cartoon, a woman with a notable likeness to Miss Fowler is holding up a piece of paper. On the paper it reads:
How to boost your English marks:
Tip 1: express the same views as your teacher (extra marks for quoting them verbatim)
Tip 2: suck up to your teacher in class
Tip 3: do not under any circumstances express an original thought.
Will thinks its message is too important not to publish, and now that we are into a new school term, I agree it is time.
I have it in my bag right now. It occurs to me that I could show it to Edie and ask her what she thinks – it would be the perfect entrée for her to Amelia Westlake. But then I decide this really isn’t the right moment. We haven’t long until the Tawney Shield and we are woefully behind in our training schedule.
Telling Edie about the cartoons would also mean mentioning Will, which would be tricky. Not that Edie knows anything about Will. But I feel somehow this fact in itself could make things awkward.
‘We’ve got serious ground to make up,’ Edie says, shaking her head so that her high ponytail dances. Edie’s hair is the most divine chestnut, with a hint of red that happens to co-ordinate perfectly with the Tawney Shield stripe on our uniform. ‘And today I heard some seriously bad news. St Margaret’s has a new player. Apparently she’s incredible.’
I gasp.
Edie gives her ball another bounce and catches it on the ascent. ‘Her name is Bianca Stein. She was the under-16 champion in Queensland last year.’ She leans against the net post like she does after hitting a particularly impressive volley. ‘Apparently St Mag’s shipped her in at the start of last term and has been training her in secret. Today they announced their team and she’s the captain. Anyway, Sophie, from our squad, recognised the name. She’s seen Bianca on court in Brisbane. She says she’s one of the best junior players she’s ever watched.’
‘This is completely unfair.’ I resist slamming my racket on the net.
Our other competitors are a known quantity. Edie and I have a profile of each of the top New South Wales players up on a wall in Edie’s bedroom. On this Bianca Stein person from Queensland, we have nothing.
‘I guess the question is whether she’ll be playing in the Doubles,’ I say. ‘There is no-one else of any calibre at St Margaret’s. If she’s from Queensland, she may not have connections with any other players down here.’
Edie flicks her ponytail. ‘That’s wishful thinking, if you ask me. She’ll find someone to play with, or someone will find her. There’s no reason to assume she won’t play in the Doubles.’
‘So what do we do?’
I must sound overly panicked because Edie puts down her racket and comes over. She presses her forehead gently against mine, which is one of our pre-game rituals. I drink in the smell of her floral perfume. ‘Train hard,’ she says. ‘Learn what we can about her. Find out about her strengths, her weaknesses,’ she murmurs, her lips very close to my lips.
I sigh. ‘You always know exactly what to say to calm me down.’
She steps back and smiles. ‘Don’t worry, Bubble. I’m not letting this go. I was born to win this competition.’
‘We both were,’ I correct her.
‘Exactly.’
We begin our warm-up hit, which I always enjoy. It is hard to deny how great Edie looks in a tennis skirt. She has very long, very slender legs and arms. They are also the most beautiful natural tan colour, like she just spent the summer on a yacht, although without the horrible moles and freckles she’d have if she actually spent the summer on a yacht.
At five o’clock Gillian and Tania, our practice partners, arrive. G & T (as we call them) made the second round of the US Open Juniors three years ago. They tone their game down a bit for us, but not much.
Today, though, I’m not in my best form. I keep thinking about Bianca Stein. What rotten luck that St Margaret’s has drawn a trump card the year Edie and I are finally ranked first!
It isn’t the only thought keeping me from driving home my backhands. I found out today that Coach Hadley has not returned from Easter break. The school must have suspended him to investigate the cartoon’s allegations of harassment.
I keep going back and forth in my mind how I feel about it. On the one hand, I feel sick that I have potentially ruined the career of a well-loved teacher. Without Coach Hadley’s encouragement and support I would never have become one of the school’s highest-profile athletes. On the other hand, considering his behaviour at times, I feel it is right that Rosemead has suspended him. It is the proper course to take.
‘You weren’t playing your best tennis today,’ Edie says with a sour look when we come off the court.
‘I’m sorry. This Bianca Stein news has really knocked me for six.’
Edie begins towelling herself down. ‘The mind game is half the battle, Bubble. If you can’t handle that then she’s already won.’
I zip up my racket miserably.
‘Hey,’ says Edie gently, drawing the towel around to the back of her neck. ‘It’s okay. You’re in shock, that’s all. How about you come round to my place tonight and we can … debrief?’ Holding my gaze, she presses the towel down the front of her T-shirt and across.
‘I’d love to,’ I say, fumbling with the lid of my ball cannister. ‘But I can’t. I
