Netball

• Lara Jones
• Short Story
• 2009

In the bustling chaos of the netball court, I call out to Georgia, “Here! Pass it here!” She throws the ball in a high arc that flies over the heads of all the defence. I jump in the air and feel the satisfying ‘thunk’ as the ball smacks into my hands. Ow. Then I’m down on the ground again, and my teammates are dodging and bouncing around in front of me, trying desperately to get in front of their defenders. Amber does a complicated roll and spins around her player, ending up in front of her. She’s out of reach of the girl’s long, ball-magnetic arms. I throw the ball to her and she snatches it out of the air, sending it before I can blink into Jamie’s waiting hands. This goes on for an hour, but it feels like a whole day is passing as the ball is flung all over the court. When finally the bell signals the end of the game, everyone shakes hands, red in the face and sweating. My team gathers in a circle and our parents bring us our water bottles. I look around at my friends’ exhausted faces, messed up hair and heaving chests. I can’t wait till next week.

NEXT WEEK

The rain pours down, unrelenting, insistent. Determined to ruin any chance of a netball game tomorrow.