Will by Maria Boyd

much….
    Jock was the only St. Andrew’s student in the yard who had missed the bus come to a halt at the hall.
    Jock!
    No, Willo, you’ve got a—
    Just shut up, mate, and have a look!
    The bus doors opened. Silence filled the middle quad.
    There she is! She’s the one I was talking about, the head of Green House!
    The entire occupancy of the quad, including the girls, turned and looked in our direction.
    Shut up, mate!
    You bloody idiot!
    Don’t point, you loser!
    We stood captured in the spotlight, victims of the Jock factor. This time a moon was definitely not going to help the situation. I decided the best way to handle it was to turn around and pretend that I wasn’t there.
    At that point I heard a familiar
Woooooooooooo!
fill the quad and the boys started slapping Jock on the back. I turned around to see the backs of the girls as they made their way through the doors of the hall, laughter trailing behind.
    You missed it, Willo! Jock’s in love. The head of Green House just blew him a kiss .
    OK, boys, that’s me out of here . Chris nodded at Danielli, who was making his way over from his office, detention folder in his hands. Thanks for the show, Jock!
    Danielli looked over his extra-large coffee. This must be the first time all year that everybody’s here .
    He looked over at the hall and turned.
    Any particular reason?
    The boys put their heads down. Some grinned.
    Well, it’s all right, fellas, I’ll make sure that you’re out of here on the dot of four-thirty. I hear that’s right about the time rehearsals finish up .
    Danielli, he was all right really.

The special assignment
    It was Friday, the last period of the week. We were always restless in this lesson and seized any opportunity to get out of having to do any writing, or anything that resembled work.
    I’d kind of gotten over being angry with Mr. Andrews. I was doing my time and there was nothing I could do about it. I was pretending to be listening to him but really I was watching the clock.
    He was on one of his favorite topics.
    So tell me, gentlemen, what is the stereotype of the footballer?
    Jock!!!
    The class cracked up. Even if Jock had been there, he would have had no idea about the pun. Even Andrews had a grin on his face.
    Let’s steer away from names, please, especially when they aren’t here to defend themselves. And we all know that a stereotype can’t be just one person. Don’t we?
    I don’t know about that. Jock was pretty much a walking, talking stereotypical footballer.
    Chris, what do you think?
    Strong, big thick neck, dumb, sexist, violent, drinks beer …
    There was an outcry from the footy-heads in the room.
    No, no, no way, sir! It’s changed from that .
    This was coming from the winger on the St. Andrew’s winning side.
    But we are talking about a “type,” Dion. Chris plays football so he wouldn’t be saying that about himself .
    Groans and mutters from the class.
    Yeah, but he’s different! Let’s get back to Jock again—he’s heaps more entertaining .
    And the class cracked up for the second time.
    That’s why stereotypes are so dangerous, sir, isn’t it?
    It was a deliberate windup and as expected the class turned on Chris again, yelling out, Teacher’s pet! and Brownnose! Chris grinned, exactly the reaction he planned.
    Do you think there is a positive image of the footballer, Dion?
    If you’re talking about real football, then yeah, there is .
    Groans started up again,
    Urr … soccer isn’t real football!
    Get over it!
    Pull your head in!
    Let him speak, please, gentlemen . Andrews silenced the group and looked in Dion’s direction.
    Yeah, I think you could say loyal—
    Someone else interrupted.
    That’s rubbish, sir! No footballer in any code has loyalty anymore, it’s all about the cash .
    Mr. Andrews told everyone to shut up. Only he would never say shut up—he only had to hold his hand up and the boys stopped.
    All right, Dion, continue …
    Loyal, educated …  More reactions from