On The Ball
Although she was suspicious, she needed the help with her soccer and Bob, she had to admit, was pretty good at soccer. Their puppy, Pip, was also pretty good and was joining in chasing the ball all over the garden. It seemed everyone was better than Emma at soccer.
    â€˜When you see the ball coming,’ said Bob, ‘just reach up, stretch your neck and nudge the ball with your forehead. Here, throw the ball up towards me and I’ll show you.’
    Emma threw the ball up high towards Bob. His eyes on the ball, he leapt and stretched to meet the ball and then, with his forehead, he pushed it back to her.
    â€˜See, easy!’ said Bob.
    â€˜Maybe for you,’ replied Emma grumpily.
    â€˜Try again,’ said Bob as he threw the ball up.
    As the ball came towards her, Emma looked towards where it was going and jumped. But she jumped just a little too late and the ball hit the ground.
    â€˜Nearly, it just takes practice,’ said Bob. ‘You’ll get it. Maybe we can do some more tomorrow.’
    Bob went inside leaving Emma holding the ball and wondering if any amount of practice would help her headers. It was so frustrating: she could catch balls really well but she just couldn’t seem to get headers right—and if she couldn’t do a header, how was she going to get on the school soccer team? She would have to practise all weekend if she was going to have a chance at the try-outs when school went back.
    The weekend. That reminded Emma. What was she going to do? It was a long weekend but all her friends were going away. Elle and her family were going to visit her grandmother, Isi and her family were going camping and Hannah and her sister were going to stay with their cousins. Even Bob was going to a soccer camp with his team. She wouldn’t be able to practise with him. Things were desperate if you were going to miss your brother. The long weekend was going to be so boring.
    Piinngg!
    Emma jumped. That was no ordinary ping and it came from her very not ordinary phone. It was a special-issue SHINE phone that looked a bit like a game console and a bit like a touch phone. It had lots of normal applications but it also had special SHINE spy apps, including a special SHINE message system that alerted their agents to report in. It was this system that had just sent Emma a message.
    Emma took out her phone and opened themessage. She was surprised at what she saw: it didn’t look like the usual SHINE message alert.

    What does this mean? wondered Emma. Is the first line a motto? SHINE liked mottoes and they had lots, but what did ‘It won’t mean a thing if you use a wingding’ mean? It certainly didn’t mean a thing to Emma. She couldn’t make head or tail of it.
    It has to be a clue, thought Emma. It has to be telling me how to crack the code. She read the top line again.
    What’s a wingding? Emma asked herself. I’ve heard that word before, but where? Then she remembered. On the computer, it’s a font on the computer.
    Emma liked fonts, she liked writing her name in different fonts. She liked finding fonts that expressed different styles and different moods. There could be bold, strong fonts and more pretty, girly fonts and there could be just plain nutty fonts. There could be fonts for when Emma felt happy and fonts for when she felt sad. Sometimes Emma made up new fonts herself with a pen but she also liked choosing different ones on the computer. She had quite afew that were her special favourites.

    I think I remember a wingdings font, said Emma to herself. She scrolled to her word app and keyed her name. She then highlighted it and pressed ‘choose font’ and scrolled through her options. Wingdings, starting with W, should be towards the end, thought Emma.
    â€˜There you are,’ she said, pressing ‘wingdings’. Now her name looked like a cross between hieroglyphics and a comic book.

    Emma smiled to herself. Emma Jacks, your head

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