“You’re two of my star players,” storms Mr. Naidoo. “If you can’t get along then Streetskillz doesn’t have a chance of competing in the league! You need to get over your differences.”

Khaya and I are standing in front of our coach breathing hard. The whistle has just blown for the end of the game and the Brazillionaires have beaten us 2-0.

“We will,” we say together, scowling at each other.

“Great,” Mr. Naidoo says, “then you won’t mind that I’ve put you two in the same room.”

“What?” I exclaim. “No, no, we can’t…”

Mr. Naidoo holds up his hand. “If you two can’t work together then I must find players who can,” he says, and then walks away shaking his head.

Khaya looks at me in disgust. 

“Now not only do I have to put up with your bad soccer, I have to put up with your bad smell and snoring too! Hayi, this is unfair.”

I stalk into the changeroom, taking off my boots and throwing them onto the floor.

“I hate this!” I shout at the wall.

“You need to learn to deal with Khaya,” a voice says from behind me. 

I turn to see Henry standing behind me. The small teenager’s face is concerned.

“It’s unfair,” I rage, “if Khaya passed the ball to me, I’d pass it back to him.”

“Dropping to his level isn’t going to keep you on the team.” Henry says. “You’re going to have to work it out with him. Our team needs to focus on developing our own style. Having you and Khaya fighting all the time is not helping us.”

I sigh and nod. 

“And I thought I was going to have to help you deal with Khaya.”

Henry smiles. 

“I’ve had to deal with people far worse than Khaya on the street.”

I know Henry’s right. Hard as it seems, I have to try to resolve things with Khaya. But what are the chances of my old enemy responding to an offer of friendship?