After Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘Frewen, mind your manners. Callum, there’s a spare seat next to Klay.’
    A kid with hair as black as my friend, my ex-friend, Michael, groaned.
    ‘Is there any chance you lot could stop acting like country hicks and make Callum welcome?’ Mr Agar shook his head. ‘Why are there still maths texts on tables? I asked you to put them away and take out your English books.’
    Most of the class rummaged in drawers under their desks. I tried to work out where to put my bag, then noticed school bags shoved under the desks. At St Pat’s we sat at tables and had lockers for our stuff.
    Klay slapped an A4 exercise book on his desk. I shoved my backpack under mine and sat.
    ‘Do you have books with you?’ asked Mr Agar, holding an exercise book like Klay’s.
    ‘No, Sir.’
    ‘Sir?’ Klay sniggered.
    I gritted my teeth.
    Mr Agar ignored Klay and handed me the book. ‘Yesterday we were looking at the character Stanley Yelnats...’
    Arms folded, I let Mr Agar’s voice wash over me.

CHAPTER 6
BEFORE...
    The chain threaded easily through the front wheel as CJ secured his bike to the bike rack, slung his back-pack over his shoulder and strolled towards homeroom.
    ‘Hey, wait,’ boomed a deep voice behind him.
    CJ turned. Three Year Twelves sauntered towards him—Jonah Nash, captain of the school’s senior footy team, full-forward Connor Tatchell, and wing Trent Rosales. Trent waved, his face open like his brother Oscar’s. CJ and Oscar had been at school together since prep.
    ‘How’s it going?’ said CJ.
    ‘Pretty good,’ said Trent, smiling.
    ‘Hear you’re a top player,’ said Tatch, his forearms as large as CJ’s calves.
    ‘I’m okay at soccer, I guess.’
    ‘Soccer?’ Tatch screwed up his face. ‘Get real mate. We’re talking about footy. AFL.’
    Footy was a sore point with CJ. He loved it. Maeve hated it. She’d banned him from playing on weekends, but had caved in when CJ cried and begged to be allowed to play in Year Six. In last year’s round robin competition between the Year Seven and Eights, CJ had starred.
    ‘Oscar reckons you read the play well,’ said Trent.
    ‘I do okay,’ said CJ, with a shrug.
    ‘Burbridge reckons you’re better than okay,’ said Tatch.
    Burbridge was CJ’s PE teacher and also senior footy team coach.
    ‘Come to training tomorrow night. Show us what you can do,’ said Jonah.
    ‘What, to seniors’ training?’
    ‘What else?’ said Tatch.
    ‘Why? You making up numbers for a practise game or something?’
    Tatch snorted. ‘There’s enough talent at this school to fill four senior sides. Probably five.’
    ‘So is it a development squad thing?’
    ‘You always such a pain?’ asked Tatch.
    ‘Nah, it’s just I don’t get why you want me there. Only Year Elevens and Twelves are allowed to play for the senior side.’
    ‘Just let us have a look at you,’ said Jonah, hands in his pockets. ‘You do okay, you’ll play. Burbridge will work out the rest.
    A rush of excitement charged through CJ. He nodded, trying to look relaxed. ‘Okay. Tomorrow night it is.’
    ‘See you then.’ Jonah frowned.
    CJ turned to see what Jonah was looking at. Nic trotted towards them, goofy smile on his face.
    ‘Listen, CJ,’ said Jonah, ‘Keep this between us.’
    ‘How come? Everyone will know I’ve been at training.’
    ‘Just don’t tell him,’ said Tatch, nodding at Nic.
    ‘Whatever.’ CJ shrugged. ‘See you tomorrow then, I guess.’
    ‘Hey,’ said Nic, running the last few metres to join them. ‘How you going guys? Started footy training yet? Reckon you’ll win the shield again? Should be a gun side this year, eh?’
    ‘Should be,’ said Jonah, nodding at Trent and Tatch. ‘See you, CJ.’
    The three of them walked towards the Year Twelve building.
    ‘See ya, then,’ said Nic, waving at their backs. ‘What was that all about?’
    ‘Nothing.’ CJ punched Nic’s shoulder, and skipped around him like a boxer.
    ‘Yeah, right. Didn’t look