Revenge of the Spaghetti Hoops

by Mark Lowery

  Then something really surprising happened.

  He missed.

  It was a terrible miss as well – a massive, dramatic air-shot that caused his whole body to spin round three times.

  It turned out that Jason was absolutely RUBBISH at rounders. Even worse than me. It took him about nine goes just to hit the ball. And every time he missed it, Trevor would shout, ‘CUT! That one didn’t count. Too high.’ Or ‘Too low’.

  It was all getting a bit embarrassing. Even most of my team wanted him to hit the winning rounder so we could all go back inside. Apart from me though. I was not going to let him win.

  Eventually, and after some serious coaching by Vanya, he finally managed to hit the ball. It looped high into the air. Up. Up. Up.

  Cheered on by his team, Jason set off running.

  Past first base.

  The ball slowly began to arc downwards. I fixed my eyes on it and ran sideways left. Then right.

  Round second base.

  The ball was coming straight at me now.

  Dodging outside third base.

  ‘Yours, Roman!’ someone yelled.

  The world slowed down. Time turned to syrup.

  Closing in on fourth.

  The ball almost hovered down towards my outstretched hands.

  ‘NOOOOOO!’ shouted Trevor.

  It landed in my palms and I closed my fingers around it. I’d caught i—

  ‘Oooof!’ I cried, as something smashed into my back.

  The ball flew out of my hands.

  I slammed face first into the ground.

  When I looked up, Jason was being filmed prancing past fourth base. His team were drabbing like maniacs.

  But who …

  ‘Soz, mate,’ said Gamble, his body tangled up with mine.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ I groaned. I felt like I’d just been pushed through a car crusher. ‘We’re on the same team.’

  ‘Gotta look like a helpful kid for Mr Gibbons, innit,’ he said.

  I sat up painfully. To the side of the pitch, Jason was being thrown into the air by his team while the camerawoman filmed him.

  ‘Now!’ cried Trevor, turning round to face me and Gamble, and waving his mobile in the air.

  ‘What’s he on about?’ I asked.

  Gamble sniffed. ‘And I’m sorry for this too, Roman.’

  ‘Sorry for wh–’

  There was a sudden slap across my ear. My hearing went all weird and stuffy. I felt dazed and confused. I tried to lift my hand to my ear, but Gamble was pinning me down.

  ‘Done it!’ he called.

  Then something just kind of went click inside my brain.

  Everything suddenly felt miles away: the voices shouting at me, the other people on the field, the whole rest of the world.

  I felt like I was being sucked into a black hole.

  My surroundings melted away.

  There may have been some cheering.

  I think I saw Trevor messing about with his phone.

  Maybe Jason’s teammates had put him down or maybe he’d somersaulted off their shoulders.

  I wasn’t paying attention.

  Because only one thing mattered now.

  Jason.

  He was like a single candle in the centre of a dark cave. A solitary Jelly Tot on a cake. The last doughnut in the box.

  There was nothing else in the world apart from him.

  It was all suddenly crystal clear to me.

  I had to hurt Jason Grooves.

  I marched forward, like a robot, or a puppet, or a zombie. I didn’t know why I had to hurt him. I didn’t question it at all. I just carried on, my eyes locked on to him, my arms stretched out in front of me. Cold rage surged through my body.

  Jason had to be eliminated.

  Closer and closer.

  Past Trevor, who was watching me and still fiddling with his phone.

  Jason was in front of me now, his back turned to me, dancing and singing with his teammates. It was like I was watching myself on TV. I saw my hands rise towards the back of his head, like they were being pulled up by invisible strings.

  He turned. Noticed me. Saw my hands as they closed round his neck. Screamed in horror. And then …

  THUD!

  Vanya punched me in the side of the head and I fell to the ground.

  The Worst

  I was sitting on the floor, dazed and confused. A crowd of people were surrounding Jason, who was looking terrified. Vanya was closest to him, holding his hand. ‘Jason,’ she said, ‘I will go to the prom with you.’

  Then she looked at me like I was a nit she’d just found in her breakfast.

  ‘I … I …’ I spluttered, but she’d already turned away. What on earth had come over me?

  Jason rubbed his neck. ‘Oh. That is … er …’

  ‘Perfect!’ announced Trevor, striding in front of me. ‘Jason, perhaps you could give your date a kiss on the cheek for the camera …’

  ‘We’re not going to kiss,’ she said.

  ‘Just a teeny-weeny peck?’ pleaded Trevor. ‘It’ll be great for the TV show.’

  ‘I’m going to the prom with him because he’s my best friend. Friends don’t kiss,’ she said, then she turned and glared right at me. ‘And they don’t attack people either.’

  Jason was her best friend. And she hated me. I could’ve cried.

  Just then, Rosie stormed up to Vanya and Jason. ‘Nobody rejects Rosie Taylor. Hashtag: prepare to suffer.’

  Trevor grinned. ‘Nice bit of rivalry there. Rule five.’

  Rosie stormed off across the field. Jason raised a finger and was about to speak but Trevor placed his hand on his shoulder. ‘Maybe we could just film that bit again with you and Vanya. Try to look a little bit happier when she says she’ll go with you.’

  Jason sighed.

  I looked around me. Mr Gibbons had reached down to the floor and picked something up. He turned it over in his hand a few times and examined it carefully. It was cone-shaped and about the size of a twenty-pence piece.

  Gamble ran up, snatched it from his hand, and ran away across the field.

  What on earth was going on?

  My Fairy Godmother Arrives and I Go Out for a Kiss

  Of course, I was sent home from school for attacking Jason, and banned from going to the prom. My mum couldn’t believe it when she got the call. I’m the softest kid in Europe. Seriously, when I was ten I got beaten up by my three-year-old cousin (although in my defence she was armed with a cuddly Iggle Piggle toy. That soft blanket he carries can be deadly in the wrong hands). Having never told me off for fighting before, Mum didn’t know what to do with me when we got home. All she could do was send me to my room.

  It was obvious that this was all Gamble’s fault – the cosy chats with Trevor, coming out of the TV van after lunch, the slap in the ear, the thing he snatched from Mr Gibbons’ hand.

  I was almost certain of what he’d done. It had been like I wasn’t in control of my own actions; like someone else had taken over my brain. And to do that, they’d have needed a special machine – a brain controller. Just like the one from the army website that Darren had been on about all week.

  Back in class, I’d tried to explain this to Vanya. She didn’t believe me. She’d lowered her voice and whispered that I’d gone too far this time and she never wanted to see me again.

  ‘But … but …’ I’d said.

  Vanya had narrowed her eyes. ‘Do you know why I didn’t say yes when Jason asked me to go to the prom with him in assembly?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘I realised I wanted to go with you. Even though you’d been horrible in the TV show you’re still my best friend. Or at least you were.’

  I’d tried to reply but she turned her back on me and strode over to Jason. He was cowering on the other side of the room, still whining that I was a total maniac who’d nearly killed him. Vanya hugged him AGAIN! Then she told him not to worry – that she would protect him from me. All the whi
le, Trevor clapped his hands together and said things like, ‘This is gonna make great telly!’ and, ‘Magic. Pure magic!’

  Meanwhile, Rosie Taylor was staring at them, grinding her teeth together so hard I thought they might crumble out of her head.

  Sitting in my bedroom a few hours later, I reflected on my terrible situation. I’d lost one of my best friends, who was now going to the prom with someone awful. My other best friend had landed me in mega trouble just so he could save himself from going to a school for naughty kids.

  And worst of all, there were no flipping doughnuts in the house.

  What was I going to do?

  The Answer

  It was about half five when the answer fell out of the sky.

  Well, it smacked against my window anyway.

  I screamed.

  Darren Gamble’s face was pressed against my skylight, his nose bent upwards so that a long snail trail of snot dragged across the glass.

  I was so shocked I thought my head might fall off. ‘How the crispy chicken nugget did you get up here?’ I cried.

  Let me explain something to you. My bedroom is in the attic of our house, so the windows are part of the roof. The roof! Ten metres up in the air with concrete and tarmac below.

  ‘Let us in!’ he called from outside.

  What was going on?

  Carefully, I stood on a chair to lift the latch. The window flipped up, and Gamble slithered through the gap and fell on to my floor. ‘Hard work climbing that drainpipe, innit.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just knock on the front door?’

  ‘Oh. Didn’t think of that.’

  I shook my head. ‘You could’ve been killed.’

  ‘Nah,’ he scoffed, clearing his nose out and rubbing it into the carpet with his boot. ‘I’ve climbed on to loads of roofs. I don’t normally die.’

  What a nutter!

  ‘Why are you here?’ I asked him. I noticed for the first time that he was wearing a shirt and a bow tie, and he seemed to have polished his head. He looked like a serial killer.

  ‘Taking you to the prom,’ he said, pulling me towards the window. ‘Come on. I’m your fairy godmother.’

  ‘Whoa whoa whoa,’ I replied. ‘I’m banned from going. And anyway, why would I want to?’

  Gamble’s whole body stiffened. His eyes narrowed to two dangerous slits and his voice dropped to a growl. ‘I’m gonna sort Jason and Trevor out. And you’re gonna help me.’

  Gamble can flip like this over absolutely nothing. It’s terrifying. Like that lunchtime when someone accidentally used his spoon. He went totally nuts and beat the kid up with a slice of melon and three grapes.

  ‘Why do you want to get them?’ I asked him.

  He was now pacing up and down my room, punching my wall. ‘Pair of snakes. They dropped me in it. Look …’

  He held out his hand.

  Mind Control

  I knew straight away what it was – the object he’d snatched out of Mr Gibbons’ hand on the field. The object that must’ve fallen out of my ear when Vanya punched me.

  ‘The mind-control receiver,’ I said. ‘Just like on the army website.’

  ‘I couldn’t get hold of a hearing aid – I asked a load of deaf people, but none of ’em would give theirs to me.’

  ‘Can’t think why,’ I sighed.

  ‘So Trevor gave me this,’ continued Gamble. ‘It’s the earpiece from that microphone Jason was wearing in the assembly. Only took ten minutes to twiddle some frequencies and add a couple of chips I got off the internet. Then I just had to program a quick app for Trevor’s phone and off we went.’

  At that moment, something clicked inside my head. ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘Are you some kind of super-brain genius?’

  I couldn’t believe that this had never crossed my mind before. But to be fair, why would it have? I mean, he’s always more likely to eat a book than read it. His handwriting looks like a slug’s been drowned in ink, then flicked across his page. The only lesson I’ve ever seen him pay attention in was about electricity. And even then, instead of wiring up a bulb to a battery, he just stuck his tongue in the plug socket in the wall and got blown halfway across the room ‘for a laugh’.

  But still, he must be pretty clever, maybe just not in a normal way. He’d outsmarted the school security system to put his fish in the pool. He’d hacked into the army website. He’d fixed Miss Clegg’s car. And now he’d built his very own mind-control receiver out of an earphone.

  Of course, he’d then used this receiver to turn me into a murderous maniac but still … you can’t win them all, I guess.

  Gamble shrugged again. ‘People think I’m thick but I’m proper smart, me.’

  ‘But how could you do that to me?’ I said, after a while. ‘I nearly killed him.’

  ‘I’m sorry, mate,’ he said, looking at me with his big eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have let Trevor control your brain like that. But I was desperate. Trevor said he’d put in a good word with Mr Gibbons so that I won’t have to go to the bad-boy school. But afterwards he wouldn’t. He said that he needed everyone to think it was your fault. If people found out it was me and him, then the TV show wouldn’t work. He lied to me.’

  I sighed. You can’t stay mad at Gamble for long. It’s not like he’s a normal person, is it? The kid lists ‘biting people’ as one of his main interests.

  ‘So that’s two of us he’s messed around with,’ I said.

  ‘And that’s why we’re gonna do summat about it,’ he said, an evil glint in his eye. ‘We’re gonna fix him.’

  I felt excited about this. Well, for about a second anyway. Until he picked up my shoes and threw them out of the window. I heard them land with a slap on the driveway below.

  ‘What did you do that for?’

  ‘We’re going to the prom.’

  ‘But I could’ve put them on downstairs, then gone out.’

  He considered this for a moment. ‘Oh yeah. I suppose you could.’

  ‘Anyway. I’m not going anywhere. Even if I wanted to, I’m banned.’

  ‘You are coming. I’m gonna get that Trevor. And you’re gonna save Vanya, innit.’

  One Question

  I could totally understand why Gamble wanted to get Trevor. But, of course, I had one question: what was I saving Vanya from?

  Oh, and what exactly did he mean by get Trevor?

  And while I’m at it, why did he want to help me to save Vanya? Gamble hates Vanya – he’s jealous of the fact we’re friends. One lunchtime he put his pet dog Scratchy’s bum worms into her stir-fried noodles.

  OK, so strictly speaking I actually had three questions, but still …

  ‘I feel bad about the brain controller, and I know you like her,’ he said. ‘Oh, and Jason’s planning to kiss her!’

  ‘What?!’ I cried.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Gamble, ‘remember they’re going to have a prize for the best couple at the prom. Well, Trevor’s gonna cheat so that Vanya and Jason win. Then the glitter cannon is gonna go off and Jason’s gonna kiss her on stage in front of everyone!’

  ‘Urgh, yuck!’ I said. ‘Why would anyone want to kiss another person? Even Vanya? Imagine the germs!’

  Gamble scratched a spot on his scalp. ‘It’s the big finale to the TV series. Trevor says they need an epic moment so everyone watching will go mad about it and buy all Jason’s crummy music.’

  This didn’t quite make sense. ‘But Vanya won’t want to kiss him. It’ll look awful on TV if he tries to kiss her and she storms off.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. They can just freeze the screen before she does that. As long as he gets his lips on her gob with all the glitter coming down, then it’ll look good.’

  A terrible feeling came over me. I didn’t feel like I could speak.

  ‘So,’ said Gamble, ‘you coming or what?’

  I suppose that everyone has times when they have to be brave or be a coward. Normally, I’m a coward. I’m scared of mice. I’m scared of salad. I’m scared of mice eati
ng salad.

  But today, I was brave.

  ‘Yes,’ I said finally.

  ‘Wicked!’ said Gamble, headbutting the door in celebration. Before I could stop him, he’d dived out of the window, run across the roof and disappeared down the drainpipe.

  ‘You could’ve just used the stairs,’ I called after him, shaking my head.

  Racing to School

  When I went downstairs, Mum was out in the back garden. I didn’t want to lie to her about where I was going, but I didn’t want her to be mad at me either. As a result, I decided to leave her the kind of note that she would find so unbelievably cute that she could never be mad at me (she is the most embarrassing person in the world, of course). So I wrote:

  Gone out for a kiss. Back later.

  Perfect. She didn’t need to know that I was trying to stop a kiss, not do a kiss.

  Once I’d left the note, I shot through the front door, ready to race to school.

  However, as soon as I stepped outside and saw Gamble, I realised that racing into town wasn’t going to be possible.

  ‘What. Is that?’ I asked him.

  ‘It’s my bike,’ grinned Gamble.

  ‘That is never yours.’

  ‘Course it’s mine,’ he said. ‘I nicked it from outside a shop.’

  Why would I expect anything else? ‘I’m not sure that’s how it works.’

  It was a woman’s bike and it was absolutely MA-HOOOSSIVE. The woman who owned it must’ve been a flipping giant. The seat was almost as high as the top of Gamble’s head.

  And as if this wasn’t bad enough, there was a trailer attached to the back of it. The trailer was one of those covered ones – like a buggy with a roof – that you see babies being towed in.

  ‘Hop in and I’ll pull you along,’ grinned Gamble.

  ‘I’ll never fit!’ I exclaimed. ‘Those trailers are built for two-year-olds.’

  ‘There’s loads of space in there,’ he said. ‘When I pinched it off that woman, I had to tip both her kids on to the pavement before I could ride off.’