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unison. They cleared a space between Jamie and Dillon. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” they started chanting.
    â€œNo girl would come anywhere near you,” Jamie carried on, getting up from his chair now. “I’ve seen you pick your nose and eat it! And your breath stinks!”
    â€œThat’s cos I’ve been kissing your mum,” Dillon laughed. “And she’s—”
    Without even realizing it, Jamie had launched himself at Dillon. His head was swarming with anger.
    â€œCome on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got,” Dillon taunted.
    But as Jamie rushed towards Dillon, he felt his legs tangle beneath him and he fell over.
    Dillon had tripped him up and now, as Jamie lay prone on the floor, all he could see above him was Dillon’s ugly face snorting with laughter.
    â€œWhen will you learn?” he sneered. “You’re a skinny little runt and you shouldn’t mess with people that are stronger than you.”
    Dillon’s words stabbed Jamie’s brain. Anger and embarrassment spread through him; everyone had seen what had happened.
    Then Dillon turned to the group that had been watching the whole time. He pointed at Jamie and said: “No wonder he’ll never be a footballer! He can’t even stand up!”

 
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    â€œBelieve it or not, some of you are going to have to think about your careers soon,” said Miss Claunt, writing JOBS & QUALIFICATIONS in big letters on the whiteboard.
    Jamie was drawing the moves to his step-over on the back of his exercise book. He’d promised himself that he would visualize the skill every day between now and the Cup Final. He wrote the words “step, shave and knock” as neatly as he could above his sketches.
    Ollie Walsh, who sat in front of Jamie, must have sensed that he was thinking about football. While Miss Claunt was talking, Ollie turned his back to her and said to Jamie: “We gotta get the paper today – see if our picture’s in there!”
    â€œOllie,” Miss Claunt said calmly. “Can you turn around, please?”
    Ollie raised his eyebrows to Jamie and just completely ignored her. He seemed to have this spell over her that allowed him to do whatever he wanted.
    â€œCan you imagine what it’s gonna be like playing at Phoenix Park!” Ollie continued, as if they were having a chat on a football pitch, not in the middle of the lesson. “It gonna be—”
    â€œOllie!” said Miss Claunt, now raising her voice. “I asked you to TURN AROUND!”
    Then Ollie did something that was either very clever or very naughty. Probably both.
    He stood up, looked at Miss Claunt straight in the eye, turned around in an entire circle and sat back down again, still keeping his back to her, facing Jamie.
    Jamie was laughing and so was the rest of the class.
    â€œWhat?” said Ollie, the picture of innocence. “She asked me to turn around! That’s what I did.”
    â€œOK – very clever, Ollie. Can you turn this way, please,” said Miss Claunt. Jamie could see that she was almost smiling. He was surprised that she wasn’t more angry. Then again, this was Ollie. She never got angry with Ollie.
    â€œThank you, Ollie,” she said, pulling her fringe to the side of her reddening forehead as Ollie finally turned to face her. “So sorry to interrupt your conversation.”
    â€œNo problem, miss.”
    â€œNow, since you’re in such a talkative mood today, Ollie, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to share with us the career that you would like to have when you’re older?”
    â€œSure, miss. I’m going to be a federal agent.”
    â€œAnd do you even know what that means?”
    â€œYeah, it means you get to wear a badge, be on TV and pull loads of girls. That’s my kinda job!”
    Everyone started laughing but Miss Claunt carried on, still trying to make her point.
    â€œI’m sure you would