ON, SON!” shouted Dennis’s dad, really getting into it now. “YOU CAN DO IT!”
“I called him at half-time,” said Darvesh. “After what you said about your dad never seeing you play in a match, I thought you wouldn’t want him to miss this.”
“Thanks, mate,” said Dennis. Whenever he thought Darvesh couldn’t surprise him any more, couldn’t be a better friend, he went ahead and did it.
Gareth tackled the ball of one off one of the Maudlin Street boys. Darvesh ran up the outside, and Gareth passed to him. Maudlin Street charged towards Darvesh and he passed back to Gareth. Gareth panicked for a moment, then passed to Dennis, who weaved straight past the defence before booting it right over the goalie’s head and into the back of the net.
The keeper didn’t stand a chance.
6-7!
The final whistle blew. It was all over.
Dennis looked over and smiled. For a moment he thought he saw John’s face in the crowd, but he couldn’t be sure as everything seemed to blur in all the excitement. Gareth was first to go up and hug Dennis. Darvesh was next. Within moments they were all hugging excitedly, celebrating their victory. The school had never even got the semis before–and now they’d won the cup!
Dad couldn’t contain his excitement and ran onto the pitch. He scooped Dennis up into his arms and sat him on his shoulders.
“This is my son! This is my boy!” shouted Dad, helpless with pride.
The crowd erupted with cheers again. Dennis smiled a thousand smiles. He looked down at Gareth, Darvesh and the rest of the team all wearing their dresses.
There’s just one problem, Dennis thought. I don’t feel that different anymore.
But he kept that thought to himself.
The Maudlin Street team and their supporters stomped off muttering things like “fix”, “rematch” and “bunch of woofters!”
Gareth passed the gleaming silver cup to Darvesh to hold.
The crowd cheered.
“My son! My son the footballer! And yellow is so your colour!” exclaimed Darvesh’s mum. Darvesh looked over at his mum, and held the cup up to her.
“This is for you, Mum,” he said.
She pulled out one of her tissues and wiped a tear from her eye. Darvesh then passed the cup to Dennis. At that moment Mr Hawtrey reappeared.
“NOT YOU, BOY!”
“But, Sir?” implored Dennis.
“You are still expelled from this school.”
The crowd started booing. Mac took a toffee bon-bon out of his mouth momentarily and joined in. Even Miss Windsor allowed herself a little French revolutionary boo.
“SILENCE!”
And there was silence. Even the adults were scared.
“But I thought…” said Dennis.
“Whatever you thought, boy, was wrong,” snarled Mr Hawtrey. “Now get off the school premises before I call the police.”
“But, Sir…”
“NOW!”
Dad waded in.
“You’re a right idiot you,” he said. Mr Hawtrey was taken aback. No one had spoken to him like that before. “My boy just won the cup for your school.”
“My son Darvesh helped too!” added Darvesh’s mum.
“Dennis was expelled though,” said Mr Hawtrey with a sickeningly smug smile.
“You know what? I’ve got a good mind to shove that cup up your whatsit!” said Dad.
“Oh dear, he’s more embarrassing than me,” muttered Darvesh’s mum.
“Look, Mr…”
“Sims. And he’s Dennis Sims. My son, Dennis Sims. Remember that name. He’ll be a famous footballer one day. You mark my words. And I’m his dad, and I couldn’t be prouder. Come on, son, let’s go home,” said Dad, as he took Dennis’s hand, and led him home across the pitch.
Dennis’s dress dragged in the mud, but he held Dad’s hand tightly, as he sloshed through the puddles.
“I’m sorry there’s mud all over this,” said Dennis as he handed back the bridesmaid dress to Lisa. It was later that afternoon and they were sat on the floor in her bedroom.
“Dennis, I’m sorry. I tried,” said Lisa.
“Lisa. You were amazing. Thanks to you I got to play in the final. That’s what really mattered. I guess I just need to find another school that might take me–the boy in the dress.”
“Maudlin Street maybe?” said Lisa with a smile.
Dennis laughed. They sat in silence for a moment. “I am going to miss you,” he said.
“I’m gonna miss you too, Dennis. It’s gonna be sad not seeing you at school, but we can still get together at the weekends can’t we?”
“I want to. Thank you for everything, Lisa.”
“What have you got to thank me for? I got you expelled!”
Dennis paused.
“Lisa, I want to thank you for opening my eyes.”
Lisa looked down, shyly. Dennis had never seen her look like that before.
“Well, thank you, Dennis. That’s the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Dennis smiled, and his confidence grew for a moment.
“And I have to tell you something, Lisa. Something I’ve wanted to tell you for ages.”
“Yes?”
“I am completely, madly…”
“Completely, madly what?”
But he just couldn’t say it. Sometimes it’s hard to say the things you feel.
“I’ll tell you when I’m older.”
“Promise, Dennis?”
“I promise.”
I hope he does. We all have someone who, when we are near them, our heart feels like it is in the sky. But even when you’re a grown-up, sometimes it’s hard to say the things you feel.
Lisa ran her hands through Dennis’s hair. He shut his eyes, so he could feel it more.
On the way home, Dennis walked past Raj’s shop. He wasn’t going to stop, but Raj spotted him and came out of the shop to see him.
“Dennis you look so sad! Come in, come in! What on earth is the matter, young man?”
Dennis told