The steady thump of music reaches the sidewalk long before the front door. By midday, people are already pouring into Marco’s house for his party. He hasn’t thrown a small one, unlike our sleepover last night. Everyone our age from school has been invited, the whole football team, and plenty of kids I’ve never met from other activities he is involved in. The house feels alive, and so do I! His parents seem to enjoy hosting a house full of noisy children, his father responsible for cooking lunch on the barbeque, while his mum is all over the salad, snacks and drinks.

  Loud music pumps from the living room, the patio door open to carry the music across the neighbourhood as the steady bass vibrates the house in the true style of a party. The patio has the room to fit about six people comfortably out of the reach of the barbie where Mr Monti is cooking lunch, but close to double that squeeze into the space as it’s one of the best places to hear one another and hold a conversation. Everyone is half talking, half laughing, close enough that the heat from the barbeque blends with the heat from the people themselves. Of course, the boys don’t mind having to be that close, brushing up against the girls either!

  Being crammed together like this makes it easy to notice who has dressed up a little more than usual. The girls are in light dresses or short, fitted outfits, laughing a little louder than usual and pretending not to notice the attention they are getting, and the boys hang around in shorts and branded t-shirts, nudging a little closer whenever they think no one is watching.

  I was right about Marco’s sister. Her main interactions come from an implied obligation to be social, as she makes the occasional trip out of her bedroom to glare kids away from the sausage rolls or corn chips, before disappearing again behind her bedroom door. The noise of the party halts for a heartbeat each time she walks out, tension building as everyone fears being on the receiving end of a fiery outburst. She’s always been nice to me though! If I had this much space at my home and the people over weren’t my friends, I’d prefer to keep my distance and instead enjoy my solitude too.

  “Permesso, kids! Food coming through!”

  Mr Monti rearranges the cattle, balancing a piled-up plate of perfectly browned garlic and sage pork sausages in one hand above his head. In the other, he carries a second plate stacked with caramelised onions and soy-and-herb sausages.

  My concentration passes from my current conversation as my eyes follow the food every step from the barbeque to the living room table, set up with plates, salads, crisps and variations of bread, butter and sauces. The whole journey I’m willing him not to drop a single piece of food, and even with all the tension of watching his performance while he weaves through the crowd, he somehow makes it all the way.

  Marco picks up a pork sausage and folds a piece of white bread around it, piling on onions and tomato sauce.

  Good, he has set the tone. Anyone can go and eat!

  Without intending to, I interrupt the conversation. Time is of the essence. I don’t want a line to form and to have to wait a few minutes longer to eat. And what if the food runs out!

  “Yum, that smells delicious! Does anyone want to get a sausage sandwich with me?”

  There are some surprised looks around me, not realising that lunch has been prepared as readily as I have. Their responses are mainly thinking noises.

  Well, I’ve let them know what I’m doing. I’m going to make myself some lunch!

  I make my way over to the currently empty living room table to make myself a sausage sandwich, unaware if anyone is trailing behind me. I follow Marco’s example of how he made his sandwich and pause. There’s a little bit of extra room on the top. If I balance it juust right, one of the soy sausages could fit here too.

  I turn away from the table with a big, cheeky grin on my face, content with my lunch choices. I catch a few smiles directed my way as I open my mouth, the warm bread soft in my hands, and focus on eating my sausage sandwich without making a mess. I probably should have taken a plate and serviette to make this easier. Instead, I eat it quickly and lick the remaining tomato sauce off my fingers. Mmmmm. So good! I wash my hands in the kitchen sink to feel clean again and Sabina’s younger sister Wisteria walks over to me. She must have just arrived, gliding in beside me with an easy elegance that catches me on the back foot.

  Wisteria is thin and poised in her own quiet way. She wears a fitted black outfit with clean lines and smooth fabric that somehow look casual and expensive at the same time. Her black hair is straight and glossy, falling just past her shoulders, and her hazel eyes hold a calm, knowing brightness. She wears a few small pieces of jewellery, understated and easy to miss unless you are looking for them.

  “Hi, Ernest!” she says, leaning in to give my cheek a welcoming peck.

  “Hi, Wisty,” I reply, as I wonder why she’s talking with me.

  “How did you like the soy sausage? I am thinking of having one, but the skin looks oily, and I might only have salad instead.”

  I need to think about it.

  “Oh, I didn’t notice it being too oily. I had onions and tomato sauce with mine though, so I might not have noticed.”

  Wisty has a slightly crinkled nose in mild irritation, but lets the reaction pass quickly.

  “Well, I guess I will have to be cautious about it then. Bring me some of the salad. I’ll be out on the patio with my friends, and you should join us.”

  She turns to confidently walk back to her group of friends, her head held high and eyes on a mission to look past anyone in her way.

  I’m left feeling confused, standing in the kitchen reflecting on why I need to bring her lunch to her.

  Girls.

  It doesn’t take much of my effort to put some salad on a plate and grab a plastic fork, so I end up doing what she asked.

  D?nh and Abhishek give me a confused look, whereas Ramona and Misha’s faces are expressionless. I shrug in response. This is just as weird for me.

  Wisty’s right hand welcomes the plate with quiet assertiveness when I approach the patio doorway. She pushes against the people near her to open up the cramped space, her left hand clasping my wrist to guide me close to her.

  “Come outside, Ernest. We were just talking about you.”

  Even if things weren’t as awkward as they feel, I have enough small, congested areas each day. I don’t plan on volunteering myself into more.

  I gently pull my arm back to my side. Her hand lets go and drops to her side, her mouth settling into a line while her eyes grow colder, waiting for me to speak.

  “I’m going back to my friends. Thanks for the invite!”

  I turn and leave the situation, not running away from Wisty, but it is still a very quick walk!

  “What were you doing?” Ramona asks me bluntly.

  “I have no idea…” I reply, honestly projecting my confusion.

  “Hmm,” she grunts, and walks off to join a different group.

  We hang out, now with less drama, chatting between ourselves for an hour or two. People drift in and out of our conversation, socialising with drinks in their hand, but me, D?nh, Misha and Abhi are happy to mostly keep our conversation to ourselves. Marco’s hosting rounds reach our turn, and he joins us, turning the music down on his way over.

  “Is everyone having a fun time?”

  “Yes, thanks!” We respond in unison.

  It may be the socially acceptable answer, but that doesn’t mean it’s untrue!

  “I have been thinking… we didn’t get to finish our plans this morning.” He notes.

  Looking at Abhishek, I take in his short, untidy hair and that soft, patient expression, and I consider how much we can say here. We should be able to talk about Aetherforge in a secretive manner.

  “Let’s do some brainstorming now. Abhi, can you please help us too? Our AFR-4G game is a bit stuck, we need to find a clear quartz crystal for it to be completed and have no idea where to start!”

  “I can’t say that I know…” he begins, before a strong Italian voice interrupts him.

  “Is that all you boys need?”

  “Yes, sir. Mishil too.”

  “Yes, of course. I would love to know what this big secret game is that you are all spending so much time on! I believe that I could get you a clear quartz if you could make an exception, only for me…”

  Everyone looks to me, even Abhi, although he looks even more bewildered about what we are talking about than Mr Monti.

  “Thank you for the offer, sir. We don’t want to include anyone else in AFR-4G for now, but we will have a think about it.”

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  Mr Monti looks disappointed, a hesitant trace of desperation passing over him.

  “Ok, I understand. Please keep my offer in mind. I am sure that you boys would love for your game to be finished and ready to sell after all these years!”

  “Mishil will too, sir.”

  It is a generous offer. There is just something that doesn’t seem quite right about Mr Monti’s interest in our project.

  It also isn’t a good sign that he thinks we only want it finished so we can sell it.

  There is more to science and technology than how much money we can make off it. The thrill of achieving something on our own and seeking knowledge for the sake of knowledge is aspirational to me. I want my life to contribute something that makes the world a better place than it is today.

  Marco dismisses his father from the conversation with a sympathetic, “Thanks Dad.”

  To be fair, I understand the tough position this puts him in with his dad. I have seen enough of the irreconcilable relationship between Vic and my dad to not envy Marco once we all go home.

  “What’s up Platapussies!”

  Dom has arrived!

  Dom walks in wearing black shorts and a close-cut black shirt that suits him perfectly. His sneakers are a fresh, crisp white, and he looks ready for anything!

  He thumps me on the back before taking my hand to pull me in for a manly chest-bump embrace that knocks a bit of air out of me.

  Thinking out loud I ponder, “I didn’t think that Mrs Zhang was letting us use that name?”

  Dom puts on a defiant face and opens his mouth.

  Roz appears beside him, placing her hand on his arm to keep his temperament balanced and responds to me before he has the time to speak. Her long hair flows freely over her shoulders as she wears a red button-up top with a few buttons undone near the collar, the same stylish look all the girls her age seem to love. Her black skirt goes right with it, and the black sandals match the kind of easy confidence she always seems to have.

  “Hey Ernie! I hope that you and your friends are having fun.

  You could always keep that name a secret. Plata is Spanish for the word silver and pussies is easy enough to substitute. You could be the Silver Cats?”

  Dom’s mouth closes, his eyes briefly in thought as his mind locks onto her suggestion.

  “I love it babe! Officially, we can be named the Silver Cats and between ourselves called whatever we want!”

  “Exactly!” Roz lovingly kisses him on the cheek, also grateful to have diffused a potentially escalating reaction.

  “Marco, it looks like the whole team is here today, and I’d love to see more of what Ernie can do with the football.

  Can you let Alonzo and Erica know we are moving the party over the park?

  Everyone has eaten and you live close to the football field by La Fiesta Mexicana. The field has music, football, seating, food & alcohol. All the most important features of a fun, lively party!”

  Marco looks caught between wanting to say yes to Dom and needing to ask his parents for a favour. He rubs the back of his neck, contemplating his response.

  “Ok, Dom. I will go and ask Mum and Dad.”

  “Good! I’ll tell everyone here that we are moving the party to the football field.”

  Marco parts our group with a conflicted expression, while Dom leaves with one of utter confidence, knowing that he has complete control over what he wants everyone to be doing.

  That’s what I want too. How can I get that level of assurance in myself?

  Perla comes out of her room to hold the front door open for us, making sure we all actually leave. She will get her peace back after all!

  Mr Monti is coming with us, far more interested in playing football himself than supervising anyone.

  Marco will join us too after he finishes convincing Mrs Monti that the world isn’t going to end because we go to the park. She knows that they are responsible for all of the kids who came to the party and seems to know her husband well enough to make Marco supervise his guests instead. Poor Marco!

  I try to wait for him before leaving, but he subtly waves me away without taking his eyes off his mum.

  Well, I tried!

  Misha waited at Marco’s for me, and we walk together behind the bigger group until we reach the park, the cool breeze and fading music trailing behind us under the afternoon sun. She does make much better company than when Vic pulls me along. I wouldn’t even mind holding her hand on the walk as a pleasant alternative from my sisters. But that would be weird, and we make the trip in a relaxed silence instead.

  The football pitch at the park already has over fifty people playing on it, but there is always plenty of seating, and the music creates the perfect party atmosphere, filling the whole area like a soundtrack.

  With the field already full of players, we make our way to the seating area to find a spot where we can hear each other above the noise and chat instead.

  “C’mon you Cats! Games over this way!”

  Dom seems to have embraced the new team name into his vocabulary very quickly!

  Misha and I stop and share a look of resigned apology before jogging back to where Dom and the rest of our team stand, on the side of the field by the halfway line.

  Dom takes his role as our leader seriously, stepping forward to set out our playing conditions.

  “There are so many people here, we can all play on the same side. Let’s be on the team running to the right.”

  He points at Abhi, Aiden, Mr Monti, and a few other kids who aren’t in our squad, including some who aren’t even from our school.

  “You all can be on the other team to even it out. It’s only fair.”

  Back to focusing on our team, Dom gives us more directions.

  “We won’t be able to play traditional positions given how many people are on the field, but we should still stick to them as much as we can for practice.”

  He pauses briefly, mapping out the formation in his head.

  “I’ll be up front as striker, pressing the box with Sabina on the left wing and Sam on the right wing. Mishil, take left centre mid and Ernest right centre mid. You two will be essential for coordinating the play.”

  He sweeps his hand across the rest of us, making sure we all understand the role.

  “Rosa will be left wing back and Lei right wing back. Then the back line of defence will be Marco at left mid back, Ramona at centre mid back and, Erin at right mid back.”

  Turning to Mat, easily the tallest and broadest of us, he instructs the final team member.

  “They already have a goalie, Matthias, so see if you can get a turn. Otherwise, just hang at the back and yell out instructions based on what you can see.”

  We all listen carefully, absorbing our positions in Dom’s formation.

  “Now, let’s get out there and show these cunts what we are made of!”

  We instinctively react with a hyped-up “YEAH!” and burst out of the huddle, running toward our places in the already flowing game.

  Out on the field, I’m very keen to get involved! I follow the play, covering an even gap between my other teammates, keeping my space away from any defenders so I can safely receive a pass and… nothing.

  The others on the field don’t know us, so they just keep passing to their friends for what feels like forever! I’m brimming with energy, but all I can do is wait for my chance and play my position to the best of my capability.

  Finally, a large adult barrels toward me with the ball!

  He is solid from regular play and gives me a mean little smile the moment he notices how small I am beside him. He carries enough weight that I know a collision would not go well for me. I just know he isn’t planning to pass the ball.

  I watch the ball carefully with my knees bent, ready to react the moment he tries to take it to my left or right.

  There it is.

  His foot comes out wide on my left, so he is going to try to take the ball past me on my right.

  Still watching the ball, I wait for the perfect moment and nudge it right. I boomerang around his left side and reach the ball again before his reactions kick in.

  I run at the next defender, and seeing Sabina open wide on the left wing, send a cross her way. Target hit!

  Sabina stops the ball and looks up, seeing Dom ready to make his run into the box. She comfortably dribbles the ball back a few steps to improve her angle before crossing the ball to him.

  He charges to where the ball is dropping, knocking down a few large adults in his path, and heads it into the top corner of the net past the diving goalie.

  It’s amazing watching the magic unfold as we create it!

  Dom, Sam and Sabina jump on each other, yelling in celebration, while Misha pulls me into a more refined celebratory hug as the sideline cheers.

  What a great sport!

  After that goal, we fit into the game like long-lost friends.

  I receive the chance to act in my true position, passing back and forth with Misha in the mid and utilising Ramona, Erin, Lei, Sam and Dom whenever they have the best space to create opportunities.

  I keep on playing for the rest of the afternoon, exhausted and loving it! Why would I ever want to stop?

  Most of the others take time to catch their breath and socialise with the rest of the party. Mr Monti is one of the first to tire out.

  He goes off to watch us from a distance and has a chat with someone he knows, then takes a seat, joining Roselyn as she quietly watches the action. Mrs Monti was right to worry about her husband and son not supervising the party from here. Mr Monti has no idea who is or isn’t still here, and Marco’s out here on the field with me!

  Dom’s also off the field now, making new friends and drinking beer with some of the older football players, chatting with a pale lean redhead, a fit dark-skinned man, and a tall blonde woman as the sun retires over the horizon for the day. There’s nothing like football for bringing together people from different ages, genders and cultures over a shared interest. If only Vic shared this interest too. Her life would be so much easier if she chose to get along with people instead of always fighting!

  Oh, that’s right.

  I didn’t message Vic that we were leaving Marco’s house to come here!

  I look back to where Roselyn is chatting with Mr Monti, and Sabina is lying back in her chair resting, half-asleep in the soft gold of the late afternoon. A still figure stands separate from the party, carefully watching me with her arms crossed and her lips pressed tight.

  Good! Mrs Monti must have redirected Vic to the park after she arrived at Marco’s house, finding it empty.

  I jog off the field towards her, not wanting to keep her waiting any longer for me. She must already be worried about me. All of the players I pass on my way off the field shake my hand, congratulating me on my performance.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you were leaving Marco’s house?” she asks me bluntly as soon as I’m in earshot.

  “Oh, it happened so suddenly, I just forgot!” I respond honestly

  “Uhuh… and you also didn’t remember in the many hours after that?” she asks, disbelief colouring her voice as she continues to look down at me.

  “I’m sorry! We went straight out onto the field to play football, and I haven’t been off since. It’s been so much fun!”

  Vic stands over me, arms still crossed, unsure what to say after my apology.

  “Come with me. We can talk about how much you scared me once we’re home.”

  She takes my left hand firmly and guides me away from the party toward home. Still feeling the excitement from the day, I wave a quick goodbye to everyone else, keeping my feet moving to match Vic’s marching pace.

  By the edge of the park, I’m unable to contain the emotions bubbling inside me, and I share more of my feelings with Vic.

  “Professional footballers are so lucky! They get to run around, having fun with their friends and get paid for it too!”

  Vic stops in her steps and gives me a very serious look, her shoulders going stiff.

  “It’s too difficult to become a well-paid athlete. You need to sacrifice your education and be rich enough to practice all the time. If you get injured, your whole life is ruined. The sport certainly won’t look out for you, and you’ll end up with a life just like Dads.”

  Does she really believe that?

  She continues, “I can’t and won’t let that happen to you. You’re not going to play football, and certainly not a team with THOSE people.

  What I can do is give you some good news. I am going to be working at the Sydney Football Stadium tomorrow and have been offered two tickets right on centre field.

  How would you like to go to the sold-out Sydney FC vs Coastal Mariners game tomorrow?”

  Vic doesn’t look too pleased with her generosity, and I have no idea why! The disappointment I felt has been replaced with ecstatic wonderment!

  “Do you really have tickets?!” I ask, my voice lifting without me meaning it to.

  “I do. But remember, you won’t be playing football in the school team?” She reminds me.

  I would prefer to play the game, but I don’t think that I have a choice. Vic will try to stop me either way, and going to the game tomorrow will be incredible!

  “Yes, thank you Vic. I remember.” I reply.

  “Good. Now, stay close to me. I need to arrange things with a few people.”

  The rest of the walk home passes quickly as I daydream about seeing the most talented footballers in the country play live and everything I could learn from them.

  I wonder who I should invite to take with me!