Lucy Zeezou's Goal (7 page)

With just a minute to go before the full-time whistle,
Dylan made a break and off-loaded to Morgan, who danced his way past two defenders and into a gap. He raced towards the goal while I kept up with him.

‘Go on, Morgan. Stay with him, Zeezou,' Coach James roared.

He made it to just metres outside the box as the defenders desperately snapped at his heels. I ran in behind him as he was about to shoot, ready to collect a possible rebound, while the keeper lunged forward in an attempt to stop Morgan's shot. But instead of shooting, Morgan sent me a clever back pass. With the keeper out of position, it seemed an easy task to send the ball past him. I struck the ball, watching it go in the right direction, but in the process a wayward last-minute sliding tackle caused me to lose my balance. I fell on my back.

I hadn't seen him coming … the defender's boots missed the ball and came crashing down on my head. All I could feel was heavy throbbing and then nothing. The next thing I knew, I was flying …

‘Lucy, Zeezou, wake up, wake up.'

‘Is she all right?'

‘Oh no, the back of her head is covered in blood!'

I could hear lots of voices, shouting and yelling instructions. And then, suddenly, I heard Harry's voice.

‘Lucy, you did it. You're one of us. You're a Lion, Zeezou!'

I was looking down a tunnel filled with an incredible light. I felt weightless and warm, drifting towards an enticing golden vision. Nothing else mattered and nothing else existed. I'd never seen or experienced anything like this before. I kept moving closer and closer to this inviting glow, until a soft voice roused my attention.

‘Lucy, Lucy, wake up.'

It gave me a sudden jolt, inviting me back to reality, but the sensation of being cradled in an out-of-this-world experience kept tempting me. It's what I imagined floating and flying among the clouds would be like: weightless and free.

A quavering voice kept calling me. ‘Lucy, please wake up. Come on. Wake up.'

Whatever was happening was incredible. No one would believe me if I told them. They'd think I was nuts.

I slowly opened my eyes. Everything was blurry and my head was banging with pain. The throbbing subsided for a moment when I locked onto Harry … it was an awkward moment.

‘Oh no, Harry, the game. What happened? Where am I?' I couldn't believe how weak my voice sounded.

Harry was relieved. ‘Lucy, you're at your grandparents' flat. Thank heavens you're awake. I'm so sorry I was mean to you. I'm just not used to girls playing football. Your grandpa would have killed me if anything happened to you.'

‘It's okay, Harry. Do my parents know what happened? They mustn't find out. Oh, my head is so sore. Did we win?'

Harry broke into a smile. ‘Slow down! You took a hard knock from a nasty tackle. But we won, thanks to your last-minute goal.'

‘The last thing I remember, we were on the football pitch and I was on the end of Morgan's back pass,' I muttered. I couldn't believe how badly my head was throbbing. I realised I was stretched out on the lounge in my grandparents' living room.

Grandpa came in from the kitchen, holding out a cup of tea. Harry stood up anxiously. ‘Um, Mr Dib, I've got to head off. Take it easy, Zeezou. See ya!'

‘Thanks Harry. See you at the Reg.'

‘Grandpa, Mama doesn't know what happened, does she?' Tears sprang to my eyes at the thought. What if she found out – that would be the end of football.
Again.

‘I don't want you to worry about anything, Lucy,' Grandpa said. ‘The main thing is that you're feeling better.
It's nothing too serious. Luckily, Harry found me rather than Frida when he came with the news.'

‘But are you sure she doesn't know? Mama will kill me if she finds out what happened on the pitch. If she knows I'm back playing football … my life is over.'

‘Princess, I think you're being a little over-dramatic, calm down. She was visiting Nanna when Harry came. She's still there. You just need to rest and stop worrying!'

‘Oh, thank you.' I was so relieved.

‘You're welcome. The coach helped me bring you home and Morgan's mum is a doctor. She checked you and said it was a minor knock and nothing to worry about. She just instructed me to keep an eye on you. Rest is the remedy, so no football for a couple of days, and no dance classes.'

‘But I feel much better already! I can't miss a session, I've only just made the team.'

‘Lucy, you must rest. No football means no football. Don't get any ideas about sneaking to training, either, because I know everyone in the neighbourhood and they keep me posted on what's going on. I know you had a kick-around with young Max the other day – my spies are everywhere!' he joked.

‘Max? You know Max? Why did he tell me his name was Roy?'

‘Oh, Lucy, it's a long story. Max doesn't have a home. He lives in the back corner of the grandstand at the Reg.
We all try to look out for him around here, but he won't accept much help.'

‘Where are his parents?'

‘They were killed about two years ago in a car accident. Max is a ward of the state.'

‘Oh my goodness. No parents … I can't imagine it. Poor Max. And he left our team because of me. I have to talk to him. I had no idea that he didn't have a home. That's awful, why didn't he tell me?'

‘Max is a very proud boy. Roy's the name he uses to avoid being found out. He keeps running away from his foster homes and he refuses to stay in a refuge because he doesn't trust a soul. Now, that's enough about Max. You don't need to worry about him, or anyone else, right now. You need rest.'

I looked at him with concern. ‘Grandpa, I don't know what to say. My problems don't seem that important any more. But what happens if Mama and Papa find out I'm playing again? That would be the end.'

‘Princess, you are as dramatic as your mother and grandmother. I think it's great that you're chasing your dream. It's good to have a goal, but I don't really agree with keeping it a secret from your parents any longer.'

‘I don't like it either, but I have no choice.'

‘I can't see why Frida and Paolo don't want you to play football when it's their life and it's been a great part of your life too. Frida was encouraged to chase her dream
across the globe. Surely she'd allow you to do the same, especially since you're so talented. Coach James thinks you have a very bright future in the game.'

‘Oh, Grandpa, I needed to hear that. One day I'll be a great footballer – one of the best in the world,' I boasted.

‘I'm sure you'll make it and I hope I'll be around to see you succeed. You know, I'd love nothing more than to watch my princess match it with the boys. Would you mind if I come along to your next game?'

‘Sure, Grandpa, I'd love that.'

The pain in my head slowly subsided as my thoughts went back to Max. How did he sleep in a park all by himself? And like me … where did he fit in?

Being the new girl on the block was never easy, and I knew that today, my first day at my new school, would be no different.

On arrival, Mama and I were greeted by the school captain and another student, who turned out to be Bella, the girl Mama told me about. On the way to the principal's office, Bella pulled me aside.

‘Lucy, get ready to be humiliated on stage. The principal loves to show off her latest famous additions to the school … just grin and bear it.' We may have just met but we shared an instant connection.

‘Thanks for the warning.'

After a brief meeting with the principal, Mrs Zambocelli, we were whisked off to the large assembly hall full of students, teachers and parents.

We were seated on the stage and then introduced gushily by Mrs Zambocelli. ‘Girls, please welcome our new student, Lucia Zoffi. She's come all the way from Milan, Italy, and will be attending our fine school during her indefinite stay in Australia. Please do your best
to make her feel welcome and a part of our wonderful school community.'

Mrs Zambocelli continued on her rant. ‘This school prides itself on educating the girls from Australia's most respected and successful families. And it's today enriched by another distinguished family, revered in both the sporting and fashion worlds …'

Blah, blah, blah! How embarrassing. She knew all about my family's history and made a big deal out of it as she continued her introduction. I wondered if Mama had something to do with this show? This was right up her alley. We were just missing the string quartet to complete the occasion.

Would the principal also like to give them my shoe size? I was horrified by the disclosure of my personal details. I felt as if I was being paraded like a horse at the yearling sales. A crowd of unfamiliar faces stared and smirked at me, inspecting the new recruit.

Mama, however, was in her element, gleaming in the limelight, looking more like Posh Spice all dolled up for a photoshoot than a mother at a school assembly. I was missing Papa more than ever. I wished he was here. He would make light of this whole crazy scene. He knew how to make me laugh, and boy, did I need that right now.

And I knew that disaster lay ahead. The girls would either want to be my friend because of my parents' fame
or hate me just because I'm a Zoffi. I could imagine what they were saying about me now:

‘Who does she think she is?'

‘Lucy or Lucia, who cares?'

‘She's an amazon, but what's all the fuss about?'

‘I love her mum's outfit, but too much make-up!'

I looked out for Bella, the only familiar face in a sea of strangers. I caught her signalling me at a side entrance. I couldn't wait to leave this nightmare and join her, but it wasn't over yet. Mama and I were special guests at the parents' morning tea. It was the first time I'd ever wished to be in class.

I thought things couldn't get any worse … but they did after morning tea. I'd completed a placement test last week and the results had secured me a spot in the class for gifted students, more commonly known as the nerd's class. Great, so now I was also a
nerd
.

The bell rang and Bella and I headed off to the nerds' class. Thank goodness I had Bella to explain the ins and outs of the school to me – what was cool, what wasn't. We'd make great team mates. I wondered if she played football. That would be perfect, but she didn't seem to be the sporty type. I still had a feeling we were going to become good friends. She'd already proved to be funny and easy to be around, just like Pino. Perhaps starting school here wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Looking around, I had to say that we were the coolest
of the nerds, sitting at the back of the room and chatting away.

‘I felt so sorry for you at the school assembly,' she said. ‘I had the same humiliation in front of the school … it can make life here so hard.'

‘It was a disaster. How could she do that to me?' I felt like pulling my hair out.

‘Mrs Zambocelli thinks her introductions are in the best interest of the school and the students. She loves to brag about the number of influential families here, to make the school seem even more prestigious.'

‘But doesn't she realise the trouble it causes? I like to keep a low profile, because in Italy we have no privacy. Does she do this to everyone? I can't –'

I was interrupted by a yell. ‘Girls up the back … quiet! Pay attention. Bella Jones, you should know better. I will not tolerate any talking while I'm teaching my class and that also goes for our new student, Signorina Zoffi.' The teacher peered at me over her gold-rimmed glasses.

The rest of the class joined in with icy stares, and then the whispers and snide remarks erupted.

‘Oooh, look who's made friends, mini-pollie and mummy's little model. What a pair of wannabes.'

‘Jones and Zoffi, who would have thought they'd have anything in common?'

We scowled back and quietly continued our chat
once they'd had enough and the teacher's attention was elsewhere.

‘Yeah, all the high-profile families get the same treatment, although I think she gave you some extra gloss. My mum's the leader of a political party here, so I've also been embarrassed on that stage, but with less fanfare. Don't worry, I know what you're going through.'

Now it made sense. ‘That's why they called you mini-pollie?' Bella nodded.

‘Wow, that's amazing. You must be so proud of her.'

‘I am, but it's hard. I've had the hangers-on who want to know me just because she's a public figure, and others who just hate me because of their parents' politics. I get teased and left out sometimes. Mostly I keep to myself; I prefer it that way.'

‘I know just how you feel … but don't most of these girls come from rich or famous families anyway?'

‘Yes, but they're very competitive,' she explained. ‘Everyone at this school wants to be the best. They're totally green with envy because you have a world-famous father. And being pretty doesn't help. And the fact that your mum was a model and still looks gorgeous just brings out the worst in them.'

‘I wish my mama would dress down and not be so obsessed with fashion. If only they knew what my life is really like. My parents have these big plans for me that have nothing to do with what I want. Mama is pushing
me to follow in her footsteps on the catwalk … boring!'

‘Are you kidding? You're so lucky!' Bella looked at me, wide-eyed.

‘No, you don't understand. I don't like it, strutting along the catwalk and posing for the cameras. I just wish I could be anonymous until I make my own mark, but with my family it's almost impossible. All I want to do is play football. That's my dream!'

‘Football? Oh no, sport is boring, give me the catwalk any day … I love fashion.'

I hadn't expected that response.

Bella continued, ‘Why on earth do you want to play football and get sweaty and dirty? My brother is a football fanatic but I'd never go to his games … now that would be boring! Lucy, you need to get your head read.'

‘Thanks a lot! But seriously, you're the lucky one. I wish I had a brother who plays football. I'd train with him every day.'

Bella stared in disbelief. ‘Really? You can have him. He's a pain in the butt. He's my twin but we don't have anything in common and thankfully we don't look alike. You'd probably like him – all he talks about is football.'

He sounded great to me.

‘But a girl who loves football is a bit intriguing. How did you become obsessed with the silly game?' Bella laughed at my enthusiasm.

‘Football's in my blood. I've been playing since I
could walk. It's like a magical escape. There's nothing like running free and dancing with the ball until you reach the goal. Nothing else makes me feel that way. And I owe it to my Nonno Dino, who taught me to play. He used to say that one day I'd carry the Zoffi name into the next generation of football greats. And one day I will.'

Bella shook her head. ‘I would never have thought that someone like you would be into chasing a ball with a bunch of jocks. You don't look like a football player, you're far too glamorous. Your mum's right, you should be a model.'

I shrugged, but Bella was on a rant. If only she knew there was a lump on the back of my head the size of an egg from the game the other day. My hair covered it, but it was still painful when I touched it. Glamorous – hardly!

‘Modelling would be a great career. You can make loads of money, travel the world and hang out with movie stars, always looking fabulous.' She fluttered her eyelashes and blew a kiss to an imaginary camera. ‘And then there's the beautiful designer clothes you get to wear.'

‘Believe me, it's not as glam as it looks. It can be very bitchy and competitive … some girls snatch outfits from another girl's rack and a cat fight starts. Sometimes at the last minute a big-name celebrity decides they want to be in the show and all hell breaks loose. Okay, so maybe the catwalk can be fun, but it's still not my thing,' I conceded.

Bella pouted. ‘I'd love to strut along a catwalk in designer clothes, but a curvy girl like me with glasses and braces wouldn't even get a look-in.'

‘Oh, yes you would, Bella. You're beautiful, you live up to your Italian name,' I said.

‘Oh, thanks,' Bella blushed. ‘But you're the gorgeous one. I suppose you have to follow your own dream, though, and that takes guts.'

‘How about you, what's your dream?' I asked.

‘I'd love to model but there's no way my mum would support me. She wants me to go to uni because she thinks I'd be a good lawyer. Not interested! I know one thing for sure: there's no way I'd follow in her footsteps. I've seen what's expected in the world of politics and it consumes her whole life.' Bella finished quietly, ‘She lives and breathes it and there's no room for much else.'

‘I know what you mean. The only times I see my papa are when I go to his games, or sometimes when he's home for dinner, which isn't often. This isn't going to sound nice, but I love it when he's injured, because he has more time to spend with me.'

Bella laughed. ‘Oh, wow, that's desperate!'

‘While he's recovering, sometimes he'll take me to the football club to catch up with his team mates and manager. I love it because all they talk about is football, and there's no Mama.'

‘No Mama? What's that supposed to mean?'

‘Well, she's the one pushing me to model. And I have to compete for time with Papa because she dotes on him whenever the three of us are together … I'm lucky to get a word in. He's just always so busy with his football and their business. When family time comes along, it's always so rushed.'

‘I know what it's like. My mum's always busy, and when she does get time with us it always seems to be interrupted by a crisis or media requests, even on the weekends. And as for my dad, well, he left a few years ago, but let's not go there. I totally understand how you feel, but Lucy, you're living every girl's dream. You've got it all!'

‘I know I'm lucky, but it doesn't mean anything unless you can be who you want to be. I'm screaming to be me.' I waved my arms around like a true Italian. ‘Luck doesn't mean anything unless you can do what you love. Football is the one thing I want to do more than anything, but I've been denied it. My parents banned me from playing about a year ago, but that hasn't stopped me playing with a team here – I just have to keep it secret. Please don't tell!'

Bella reassured me. ‘Don't worry, Lucy, I won't tell a soul. Promise.'

We smiled and interlocked our little fingers.

‘Girls! Bella and Lucy, that's enough! I told you
no more talking. Detention for both of you,' yelled the teacher.

‘But Miss …'

‘No buts. I don't want to hear it. You'll both stay back after school. Now, not another word.'