Alice Henderson On Debut

Twenty-six

Charlie dumps her bag on the floor in our room and throws herself on her bed. "Bitches," she says. At least I think that's what she says because it's muffled by her pillow. Paris and Shari really hammered her in the nets today, even though they were supposed to be just bowling for line and length and practicing technique. Charlie really struggled against them, from what I saw anyway, and the only let-up she had was against Regan, who bowls slower than the other two.

I shove my bag under my bed and sit down on the end of Charlie's bed. I'm at a loss as to what I should do so I do what Mum does whenever I get like this; I put my hand on Charlie's leg. I feel her relax and I squeeze her calf. Charlie turns her head so she's no longer talking into the pillow.

"Just a little lower," she says. "I could use a good calf massage." I slap her lightly on the leg and put my hands in my lap. She rolls over onto her back.

"They're posh cows," I say. "Who cares what they think?"

"I know. I don't know why I let them get to me."

"Because they tried to make you look bad?" I ask.

Charlie lets out a breath. "No. I don't care about that. Not as much as some people anyway." She sits up and scoots over to sit beside me. "I just want to have fun, that's all. I don't get to train like this ever, and I just want to revel in the experience."

"I guess."

"But you know what I think annoys me the most about them?"

I shake my head.

"They're good players, Alice. If they were mean and bad players, then I could handle it. But they're not. They're good and they know it and they just can't help making sure everyone knows."

Despite the way the nets session started, Charlie did really well with her batting in the end. And I don't think she even realises how good her keeping is. Her reflexes are better than half the boys Adam plays against, even the ones that were included in the A team for the scout game. There's a knock at the door and we turn to see Karen standing in the doorway. "I just wanted to check in on you two," she says. "Everything okay?"

Charlie shrugs. I say, "We're good."

Karen nods but she doesn't look convinced. "Just so you know, Charlie, we always have a kit bag full of spare stuff. You'd be amazed how many people break bats and other equipment on camp, so if you need anything, just give us a shout."

"Thanks," Charlie says.

"Okay then," Karen says. "I'll see you downstairs for dinner."

She disappears around the corner and Charlie says, "I am not borrowing equipment from the coaches."

"Why not?" I ask. "You heard what Karen said. It's there just in case."

"Because there's nothing wrong with my gear. Besides, it's taken me years to wear that stuff in and new stuff would just give me blisters."

I shake my head at Charlie's stubborness but I don't say anything. Charlie swings her legs off the bed and goes to the cupboard. "Don't know about you, but I sweated like a pig at training. They won't let me in the dining hall if I smell like this."

I dig out some clean clothes from my bag. "Give me a sec and I'll come with you."

After a quick shower, we head down to the dining hall. Paris is holding court over a group of girls from our camp and the Brisbane squad, and when we walk in, they all look at us. A sure sign they've been talking about Charlie. I grab Charlie's arm and lead her the long way around the tables and over to the servery. We join the end of the line and Charlie sniffs the air. "That smells like Chinese. I love Chinese."

"Is there any food you don't like?" I ask.

"Red capsicum, especially on pizza. But otherwise, not really."

I laugh and Charlie grins. She seems to be getting back to her usual self.

Brad's voice booms through the dining hall, asking for everyone's attention. "The Brisbane team have asked me to let you know that they're having a dodge ball competition in the indoor training centre after dinner. Teams of five but you can just turn up and they'll put you in a team. Have fun ladies."

"Can we go?" Charlie asks.

"I can't play dodge ball," I say, handing Charlie a dinner plate.

"Please," Charlie begs. "I might finally get to talk to Jules."

"Like that went so well last time," I reply.

"I was caught off guard last time."

"Two times," I remind her.

Charlie swats at me. "Come on. Who knows when I'll get another chance to get her one-on-one."

"We don't even know if she'll be there."

Charlie waggles her eyebrows at me.

I roll my eyes back. "Is this what your brothers do to you when they want something?"

Charlie laughs. "All the time." She starts piling noodles onto her plate. "It'll be fun," she says.

"Okay," I reply. "But don't say I didn't warn you about me not being able to play very well."

Charlie does a little fist pump and turns her attention back to the hot box.

After dinner, Charlie practically skips back down the stairs on our way to the indoor centre. As we reach the bottom and head to the doors, Paris and her posse step in front of us, blocking our way out. "You know," Paris says, "I wasn't sure I was right about you two, but now I'm one hundred percent positive."

Charlie crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. "About what?"

"That you two are pity inclusions." Paris smirks and glances at Regan and Shari, who seem to have become permanent Paris bobble heads, nodding in agreement whenever Paris says something.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"Every year there are spots on camps like these for underprivileged players," Paris says, air quoting 'underprivileged players'. "And well, ever since the first day we were debating who it was on the team. I always thought it was you two, and after seeing your poor excuse for equipment, I realised I was right."

"What's your point?" I ask, feeling my hands balling into fists.

Paris leans in and lowers her voice. "You're not meant to be here," she says. "You're taking up places that could've gone to better players."

"Like you?" Charlie asks.

"Of course," Paris says, apparently shocked that we could think any other way.

"You know what?" Charlie says. "We may not have parents that can pay for anything we want, but we work just as hard as you do."

"It's irrelevant how hard you work," Paris says, like that's obvious. "You have no chance of getting any further than playing with the boys in whatever back water town you're from. This camp is for players who might have a chance at getting to play in elite teams. You'll never be one of them so I don't know why you even came."

"Why do you even care then?" I ask.

"Because," Paris says, her voice dripping with fake concern. "I just wouldn't want you to get your hopes up. That's all."

It's all I can do to not wipe that sneer off her face. Before I can say anything, Charlie grabs my arm. "We should get going."

I let Charlie pull me away, and I can feel Paris and the other girls glaring at us as we leave. As a last act of defiance, I flip them off as we head out the door.