Maya Sullivan was an eighteen year old girl who loved netball. She goes to an all girls school and it is big in the sport. She's the team captain and quite popular in her school.
Everything in her life is perfect... until she's called to the office and informed on some terrible information...
She won't be allowed to play on the netball team until her maths grades picked up!
Maya has always sucked at maths because she just didn't get what the point was in it, so she never really tried either.
Alexander Wilkinson was an eighteen year old boy who was very good at maths. He went to a mixed high school where he wasn't very popular at all. Despite not being popular, he was still quite confident.
He wore glasses (though he could easily wear contact lenses) and was very VERY good at maths. It was his best subject in school.
He also hated being called Alex instead of Alexander.
Alexander and Maya's mothers both were best friends and have been for most of their life. Maya and Alexander were born the same year but different months.
Unlike what either of the mothers wanted, they both hated each other. Maya found Alexander obnoxious and Alexander found Maya arrogant.
Nevertheless, they had to try and find a way to tolerate each other...
This is the first chapter from Maya’s POV:
I ran off the court, sweating a river. I wiped my forehead and grabbed my water bottle, taking a large chug at it. I looked into the stands and saw the Kingsmill scout in the stands. The one person I had to play well for if I wanted to get a scholarship into Kingsmill University.
The whole team gathered around the coach, ready for the team talk.
'Gather around, gather around,' ushered Coach Taylor, trying to gather us all around her.
We stood in an imperfect circle, each of us trying to catch our breaths.
Coach Taylor put her arms around the two girls closest to her to start a team huddle. With that one action, everyone copied and put their scorching arms around each other. (Despite smelling of onions).
'There's only one quarter left,' said the Coach, 'until time is up and the whole match finishes.' She looked at each of us sternly. 'Right now, we're drawn seventeen to seventeen with them. We need to up our defence and put on a real show.'
She looked at each of us, making sure we were all listening. She then emphasised to me and the goal shooter, 'And make sure to get every goal in. Every. Point. Counts.'
I nodded along with the goal shooter, wiping my hands against my blue netball dress.
Fweeeeeeeet!
Everyone made their way back onto the court, getting into their positions. I swiftly tightened my ponytail and then ran back onto my side of the court. The goal defence beside me was very tall compared to me.
I thought I was the average height for women...
It was the other team's centre pass to start with. This could have gone both ways: extremely well or absolutely terrible.
With a sharp blow of the whistle, I ran in front of my player. I knew that it wasn't likely that the ball was going to be passed to them as the centre player would have to pivot around, which could be a risky but also smart move. There was no way she'd risk that pass, though. Not with me marking.
As I expected, the other team's centre player passed to their wing attack. The ball moved down the court in a swift but smooth motion. The team was quite good at the game... just not good enough.
As soon as the ball left a player on the other team's hands, our goal keeper jumped up and grabbed the ball. I did a mini celebration before moving into the goal third.
In no time, the ball was passed to me and I managed to get it into the goal circle. The goal shooter on our team caught it and aimed for the goal. The ball left her fingers and flew high. It touched the edge of the hoop and... bounced out.
I sighed, slowly stepping backwards. The goal keeper in the other team stood at the backline, ready to pass the ball. I attempted to intercept the ball, standing in front of the goal defence.
The ball was released from the player's hands towards the goal defence. I jumped up as high as I possibly could and... caught it! I launched the ball towards our centre player and ran into the goal circle. Our centre player passed the ball back to me and I pivoted around to look at the hoop.
I took a deep breath, hands above my head with the ball in my hands. I took one step forward, one leg raised behind me. I bent my elbows, decided how hard I should push the ball upwards and then let it leave my hands.
The ball glided through the air, bouncing on the edge of the hoop. Slowly, very slowly indeed, it fell into the hoop. Our team cheered, giving me high-fives.
The match continued, this time our centre pass. Each of our teams kept scoring a goal each. There were now only twenty seconds left. I received the ball, tried to score and... missed?
I had never missed a goal before. Ever! Except today. The day the scout from Kingsmill University was in the stands. The day my entire future depended on whether we won or lost.
The ball dropped into the goal keeper's hands, from the opposing team, and their players started to drive it down the court. It was not looking good for our team.
In the end, we lost twenty-two to twenty-one.
I stormed off the court, ripping the velcro bibs off my dress. I grabbed my bottle and flung the door open. I took a long sip of water, blinking rapidly to try and hide my tears.
There was no way I was getting into Kingsmill University anymore. No way at all. I had just embarrassed myself in front of a scout! A scout!
I got onto the bus that drove us to the leisure centre from school, taking the seat that wasn't at the back of the bus so that I could sit alone.
I wiped my eyes, looking out the window. My life was over.
I saw some guys standing beside a car in the parking lot. They were wearing Ashford Academy blazers — the school I passed every morning to get to my own school. I looked at each of them until my eyes landed on a guy staring at me.
Alexander Wilkinson.
I hated him. He was my mother's best friend's son. He was staring at me through the window. I turned my head away, not wanting to see his stupid nerdy face. My life was already ruined. Seeing his "perfect student" face was not going to help me.
***
When I arrived home, I walked past the kitchen and stomped up the stairs. I ignored my mother's calls for dinner. I knew that she would have asked me how the match went and I'd have to tell her the horrible results. She would be so disappointed in me.
You see, my mother was a netball superstar back in the day. She won every match, scored every goal and was what any netball girl dreamed to be like. I tried to live up to her standards but I would never be as good as she was.
Never.
'Maya, honey?' I heard my mother's voice pass through the door. I sat up and looked at the bottom of the door. I saw her shadow standing outside it.
'Yes?' I answered.
She opened the door, standing in the doorway. She looked concerned. 'Are you ok?'
I nodded silently.
'You're not,' stated my mother, taking a few steps forward. 'How did the match go?'
The dreaded question had finally been asked. Just like I wanted it to be.
I avoided eye contact, looking down at my hands. 'We lost by one point,' I answered timidly.
I took one brief look at my mother and I saw her face fade into anger. 'You what?'
'We... we lost,' I repeated, quieter this time. Before she could even ask another question, I added, 'I missed a shot by, like, millimetre.'
'You've never missed a shot before!' said my mother loudly in frustration. 'Do you know how this makes our family look?'
I didn't answer, guilt washing over me like an avalanche.
'Incompetent,' finished my mother. She started to walk out but fired over her shoulder, 'Get up at five tomorrow morning. We're training until you have to get to school.'
The door slammed behind her, the wind from it causing some dust on the floor to move in my room. I fell back onto my bed, covering my face with a pillow. I screamed into it, now covered in the snow of guilt.
