Future Queens of England by Ryan Matthews Page A

thoroughly.
    “Thanks Gareth, much appreciated,” Tony called after him before finishing his sandwich.
    Hugh sat on his bed and addressed Tony, “Are you going to the hockey try-outs tomorrow?”
    “You know what Hugh?” said Tony, “I think I will.  Football’s my game, but I reckon I’ll give hockey a go.”
    “Glad to hear it Tony,” Hugh said and he rummaged in his drawers for a spare pen and pad.  He found what he was looking for and offered it to Tony.  “Here you go, as promised,” he said cheerily, “pen and paper, so you can write up your coursework.”
    “Thanks, Hugh,” Tony said genuinely as he took the stationery from him, “I’ll start it now whilst it’s still fresh in my mind.”  He lifted his knees up and leant on one of the magazines and then started writing.  His tongue poked out the right hand side of his mouth as he concentrated.  He stopped writing and opened up one of the magazines where he had turned the page and ripped it from its bindings.  “Have you got any paperclips Hugh?” Tony asked.
    “Sure, let me grab you a couple,” replied Hugh as he searched for them.  When he found them he reached over and handed them to Tony.  Tony’s attention had immediately focused again on writing and he didn’t notice Hugh waiting with his outstretched arm.  Hugh coughed several times until Tony looked up.
    “Sorry Hugh, thanks,” apologised Tony as he took them from Hugh and continued to write down his thoughts. 
    Over the next thirty minutes the group were amazed at Tony’s enthusiasm as he feverishly scribbled his thoughts onto the paper and eagerly ripped and clipped pages from the magazine to his written notes.
    “Ah, finished,” proclaimed Tony with an air of satisfaction as he held up his work glowing with an enormous sense of pride.
    “Hey, good on you Tony,” Keenan remarked genuinely, “you’ve put the rest of us to shame.”
    “Guys, look at the time,” Hugh announced, tapping his watch, “the trials start in under an hour.  We’d better get a move on.”
    They all started to pull sports clothes from their cupboards, bags and drawers and began to change out of their clothes.  Tony suddenly realised that he didn’t have anything suitable other than his football shirt. 
    “What can I do?  I haven’t got any shorts,” he said.
    “Why don’t you go and check the lost property box and see if you can take something from there Tony?” suggested Gareth helpfully.
    Tony leapt from his bed and ran out of the room, “Good idea Gareth.”
    “But be quick,” Gareth shouted after him.
    Tony ran down the stairs, three at a time, into the reception.  He stopped, bent double catching his breath, Christ, he thought as he wheezed, I’m really knackered.  He took a few more deep breaths and straightened up. 
    “I would like to take this opportunity to remind students that running in the corridors is not permitted,” a voice spoke sternly.
    Tony turned to see Louise standing there watching him with her hands on her hips and shaking her head.
    “Tut-tut, someone’s really out of shape,” she scolded.  “Would you like me to fetch first aid?” Louise mocked with a fake expression of concern on her face.
    “I think I need mouth to mouth.  Quick come over here and give it to me, there’s no time to waste,” he said smirking.
    “In your dreams,” she stated flatly.
    Tony laughed it off, “I need to speak to you anyway, Louise.  I need to borrow a pair of shorts for the hockey try-outs.  I thought I could have a look in the lost property box.”
    “Well, normally we aren’t supposed to do that,” she said cautiously, “but I guess we can make an exception.  The stuff in there is from last year’s students, so if it hasn’t been claimed by now then it shouldn’t matter if you take it.”
    “Great, thanks gorgeous, I mean, Louise,” he said correcting himself.
    “Follow me,” Louise said as she beckoned to him to follow.  She walked along