Sleepover Club Blitz

I soon learned that Owen’s G (for Gorgeousness) Rating had just zoomed off the scale. Apparently, lover boy was way cooler than everyone thought. Not only were his parents stupendously rich. Not only had he just moved into the ritziest, glitziest house in Cuddington. But gorgeous Owen Cartwright himself was actually (GASP!) a professional boy supermodel!!

To be fair, the others weren’t bothered about the house or the money. But they were totally gobsmacked by the supermodel thing. I hung around, listening to them witter. Now and then I’d say hopefully: “So about our next sleepover…”

But it was like I was invisible. It dawned on me that if I wanted their attention, I’d have to use the O-word. Like, “Hey, let’s give our sleepover an Owen theme!” But I absolutely refused to join in the madness. So it was a relief when the bell went and it was time to go into school.

That morning, we had to start our Second World War history project, and the whole class was having a major sulk.

“You could let us do the Tudors, Miss,” Fliss whined. “They had the coolest clothes.”

Kenny’s eyes gleamed. “Also the MOST beheadings!”

Kenny LURVES to gross everyone out. She says it’s because she wants to be a doctor like her dad, but if you ask me, she’s plain bloodthirsty!! Mind you, it was good to hear her sounding more like the pre-Owen Kenny, if you see what I mean.

“That does sound tempting,” Miss Pearson grinned. “But I think we’ll stick to my original plan. Bring your chairs to the front. I’ve got some things to show you.”

The class scraped and scuffled its way to the front of the class.

To our surprise, Miss Pearson produced a small cardboard case from under her desk. “What do you think is inside?” she asked.

No-one had the least idea.

She lifted out some bizarre apparatus – kind of goggles with rubber tubes attached. “Like to make a guess what it is?” she asked.

“Diving equipment?” said someone.

Emma Hughes flashed a superior smirk at Owen, who instantly smirked back.

“Getting warm,” smiled Miss Pearson. “It is a form of breathing gear. But for use on land.”

A forest of hands went up. “Oh, Miss, Miss!” everyone pleaded.

“Ryan?” she asked.

“It’s a kid’s gas mask,” he said.

Fliss is SO-O fickle! That girl has been in lurve with Ryan Scott for the longest time. But today she didn’t even glance his way. She was too busy fluttering her eyelashes at You Know Who.

“That’s right,” beamed our teacher. “People thought this new war was going to be a complete re-run of the first one, when our enemies used poisonous gas. They were wrong, as it turned out. But everyone was issued with a gas mask. Even little children.”

Miss Pearson passed the gas mask around, explaining that it originally contained asbestos and other dangerous substances. “But don’t worry. It’s been cleaned and it’s quite safe,” she said.

Of course Kenny had to try it on. “Peeyoo!” she choked. “It pongs.”

There’s no way I was putting that thing over my face. But Lyndz said it just smelled of rubber and disinfectant.

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