Mega Sleepover 4

by Fiona Cummings

  “Why?” Fliss asked, fastening her seat belt. “Loads of people in Spain speak English anyway.”

  “That’s not the point” I sighed. “Go on, have a guess what zanahoria means.”

  “School?” Rosie suggested.

  “Aeroplane?” Lyndz offered.

  “An annoying twit who won’t keep their big mouth shut?” Kenny asked pointedly.

  “Ha ha. No, it’s Spanish for carrot.”

  “Oh, great big fat hairy deal,” Kenny retorted. “That’ll be so-o-o useful.”

  Rosie was rummaging in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of her.

  “What’s this for?” she asked, holding up a paper bag.

  “What do you think?” Kenny grinned.

  “You mean they give you a bag?” Rosie looked horrified at the thought. “That’s really embarrassing!”

  “It’d be even more embarrassing if you didn’t have one!” Fliss pointed out, and we all started giggling.

  “OK,” I said, flipping through my dictionary again. “Try this one. Conejo.”

  “Haven’t a clue,” Lyndz yawned.

  “No idea,” said Rosie.

  “Rabbit!” I said triumphantly.

  “Oh, radical,” said Kenny. “So if I happen to meet a talking conejo on the Costa Brava, I can ask him if he wants a zanahoria.”

  “All right, girls?” Mrs Weaver stopped at our seats, looking about ten million times more stressed out than she usually does at school. “Now, are you sure you’ve got all your hand luggage with you?”

  “Yes, Miss,” we chorused. We all had our Sleepover Kit in our hand luggage, including our diaries and membership cards. Our diaries contain our biggest and most intimate sleepover secrets, so there was no way we wanted to lose those in a hurry.

  “Good. Now I want you to be on your best behaviour at all times,” Mrs Weaver went on. We could tell that she was warming up to the speech she’d given us nearly every day at school for the last few weeks. “Just remember that you’re representing Great Britain while you’re in Spain, and we want people to get a good impression, not only of our country, but also of our school…”

  We all tried not to yawn. Kenny was pretending to listen, but she’d secretly pulled out a can of Coke from her pocket, and was trying to open it without Mrs Weaver noticing.

  “… so be aware that at all times you are an ambassador for our country—

  “Aargh!” Mrs Weaver screamed, and we all ducked as Kenny popped open the can, sending a shower of Coke everywhere.

  “Sorry, Miss!” Kenny spluttered. “It must have got shaken up!”

  Mrs Weaver looked as if she’d quite like to grab Kenny and give her a good shaking.

  “Just remember what I’ve been saying, Laura,” she remarked in a threatening tone, and went off, wiping her face.

  “Wow, she called me Laura!” Kenny said, passing the can round. “That means she’s really mad.”

  “Now she’s telling Ryan Scott off,” Lyndz said. “Did you see that ginormous bar of chocolate he bought in the duty-free shop? Well, he’s eaten half of it already!”

  “Better lend him our sick bags,” Kenny remarked. “I suppose you’re well pleased Ryan’s coming with us, aren’t you, Fliss?”

  Fliss blushed. She’s had a thing about Ryan Scott for ages.

  “Well, at least he’s better than the M&Ms!” she retorted.

  We all grinned at each other. The M&Ms were missing out on the trip because Emma Hughes had been absent when the forms were given out. Emily Berryman didn’t want to go without Emma, so we were only stuck with Alana Banana. And as I said before, she doesn’t really count.

  Suddenly the plane started to move, and I sat up. “We’re off!”

  All the kids from our school cheered and started giving each other high fives as the plane taxied towards the runway. Lyndz was trying to cheer and drink Coke at the same time, so, of course, she got hiccups, and then one of the stewardesses had to bring her a glass of water.

  “What’s happening now?” Rosie asked nervously as a voice over the speakers told us to watch the stewardesses’ demonstration carefully.

  “They’re going to tell us what to do if the plane goes down,” Kenny said through a mouthful of chocolate.

  “What!” Rosie turned pale.

  “Don’t get all wound up,” I told her, as the nearest stewardess showed us how to put on a life jacket. “We’ll be fine.”

  The plane came briefly to a halt at the top of the runway. There was a great roar of engines, and Rosie closed her eyes as it picked up speed.

  “I want to go home,” she muttered.

  The plane rushed forward and then, just when we were beginning to think that it would never make it, it lifted up into the air, climbing higher and higher every minute.

  “Hey, that wasn’t so bad!” Rosie said, relieved. She leant across Lyndz, who was sitting by the window, and looked down. “Wow! Look at the airport, Frankie – it looks really small already.”

  I didn’t answer. I was slumped in my seat with my eyes closed, shivering all over, and feeling as if I’d left my stomach behind on the ground when we took off.

  “Hey, Frankie,” Kenny called across the aisle, “what’s Spanish for ‘airsick’?”

  “Shut it, Kenny,” I muttered, feeling my tummy do five backflips in a row as the plane carried on climbing.

  Even though I began to feel better when we were right up above the clouds, once you couldn’t see the ground the journey was actually pretty boring. The only good bit was when the stewardesses brought round some food, but even compared to Sleepover Club standards of cooking, it didn’t taste that great. It seemed ages until the Captain finally told us that we were coming in to land at the Spanish airport.

  “We’re here! We’re here!” Rosie exclaimed, bouncing up and down in her seat.

  “Hey, take it easy,” I said, alarmed. “You don’t want to rock the plane while we’re landing!”

  The others started to laugh.

  “What’s Spanish for ‘dumbo’, Frankie?” Fliss asked between giggles, and I chucked the dictionary at her.

  Coming down was loads better than going up, and when I stepped off the aeroplane, I couldn’t believe that I was actually in Spain. It was dark, so we couldn’t see much, but although the air felt warmer than at home, the airport didn’t look that different from the one we’d just left behind in England.

  We had to wait ages to collect our bags, and Kenny got told off by Mrs Weaver for trying to ride round on the luggage carousel, then at last we all piled out of the airport and onto a minibus. But I felt a bit let down again because there was nothing new to see on the journey, either. Just some roads, and loads of cars.

  “This is no different from Leicester!” I said in a disappointed voice to Fliss.

  “I’ve never seen a palm tree in Leicester!” Fliss pointed out.

  “OK, except for the palm trees.”

  Lyndz and Rosie fell asleep, and the rest of us could hardly keep our eyes open either, but when we arrived at the holiday complex, we all sat up and had a good look.

  It was brilliant. The place was floodlit, so we could see that all round the grounds were blocks of dormitories where we’d be sleeping, and in the middle of them was a huge swimming pool with two water-slides and a chute, which was surrounded by loads of deck chairs. There was also a games hall, tennis courts, a bowling alley and a kind of mini funfair. Our eyes were out on stalks.

  “This is fab!” Kenny gasped, as we all practically fell over each other in our rush to get off the coach. “We’re going to have a brilliant time!”

  We’d pulled up outside one of the dormitory blocks, right next to where another coach was already parked. A load of kids who looked as if they were Spanish were just climbing off and waiting for their suitcases and bags.

  “Right, gather round, please,” Mrs Weaver called, waving her clipboard at us as our driver started to unload the luggage. “I’m going to tell you your room number
s, so listen carefully. Lyndsey Collins, Rosie Cartwright and Felicity Sidebotham – number seven. Francesca Thomas, Laura McKenzie and Alana Palmer – number twelve…”

  “We’re not in the same room!” Rosie gasped, looking worried. “How’re we going to have a sleepover if we’re not all sleeping together?”

  “Kenny and me’ll just have to sneak into your room,” I said.

  “But we’re in with dozy Alana Banana!” Kenny groaned.

  “Don’t worry about Alana, we’ll just ignore her like we usually do—” I began. But Kenny wasn’t listening.

  “Hey, that girl’s nicked my bag!” she yelled. And the next second she was legging it over to one of the Spanish kids who’d been waiting beside the other coach. I followed her. The girl, who was wearing a Real Madrid football shirt, was walking into the dormitory block with four other girls, and she was carrying Kenny’s blue Adidas bag.

  “Kenny! What on earth’s going on?” Mrs Weaver hurried over as Kenny tried to yank the bag out of the girl’s hands.

  “That’s my bag, Miss!” Kenny gasped. She was having a tug-of-war with the Spanish girl, who wouldn’t let go either.

  “No, it is not!” the girl snapped, glaring at Kenny. “This bag is mine!”

  “Give it back!” Kenny pulled even harder.

  “Er – Kenny…” Fliss hurried over to us. She had a blue Adidas bag in her hand. “I think you’ll find this one’s yours. Our coach driver’s just got it out of the boot.”

  “You’d better apologise, Kenny,” Mrs Weaver said tartly, and went off.

  “Sorry,” Kenny muttered to the Spanish girl, who was giving her a dirty look. So were her four friends.

  “It is OK,” she snapped. “Everybody know the English is stupid!” She glanced at Kenny’s Leicester City football shirt. “And the football teams are terrible!”

  “What!” Kenny clenched her fists. The five girls giggled and went into the dormitory block, chattering to each other in Spanish.

  We all glared after them.

  “What a load of stuck-up nerds!” Rosie gasped.

  “Yeah, they’d better keep out of our way in future!” Kenny said furiously

  But d’you know what? I had a feeling we hadn’t seen the last of those girls…

  “Oh, this is ace!” I gasped, as Kenny and I went out onto the balcony and looked across the holiday camp. Although it was still quite early in the morning, the sun was already warm and the sky was blue. We could even see the sea in the distance. At last I was starting to feel that I was actually in Spain.

  “Fabbo,” Kenny agreed, squinting in the bright light. “Hey, did you hear Alana Banana snoring last night? She sounded like a bullfrog!”

  “Don’t be unkind to bullfrogs!” I laughed.

  “Come on, let’s grab our stuff and go to the bathroom before she wakes up.”

  We tiptoed back into our room, which was really small and only just about had enough room for three beds and a wardrobe. Then we collected our towels and toothbrushes and legged it, leaving Alana Banana still snoring. We were at the other end of a long corridor from Fliss, Rosie and Lyndz, so we hurried down to their room and banged on the door. They were just getting out of bed.

  “Come on, lazybones!” Kenny said, sticking her head round the door. “If we get washed and dressed quick, we can go out and explore!”

  “Mrs Weaver said we weren’t to go anywhere before breakfast—” Fliss began, but Kenny grabbed a pillow off Rosie’s bed, and lobbed it at her.

  “Oh, don’t be such a goody-goody, Fliss! Come on!”

  Two minutes later we were all in the bathroom. There was no one else there, so we each got a shower cubicle to ourselves.

  “Does anyone know what we’re doing today?” Kenny called over the noise of the running water.

  “Mrs Weaver said that we’re going to the beach!” Rosie called back.

  “Sounds ace!” I said, grabbing my towel and drying myself off. “I hope we don’t see those snooty Spanish girls again though.”

  “Well, if we do,” Kenny said grimly, “I’m gonna tell them exactly what I think of them!”

  “I thought Mrs Weaver said we were supposed to be making friends with kids from other countries,” Fliss pointed out.

  “Yeah, but not if they’re snooty, stuck-up and a pain in the neck!” Kenny retorted.

  We opened the doors of our showers, and came out. Then we stopped in our tracks. The five Spanish girls were standing there in their pyjamas, holding their towels and toothbrushes, glaring at us.

  Kenny was the first to recover. “Got a problem?” she asked jauntily.

  The girl who’d had the Adidas bag the night before stepped forward, looking furious. “Yes, 1 have. You.”

  “Ten cuidado, Maria,” said the tallest girl, who had long black hair in a ponytail.

  “Careful, Kenny,” I said at almost exactly the same moment.

  Kenny and Maria ignored both of us.

  “Oh yeah?” Kenny moved forward too, staring Maria right in the eye. “Well, that’s just your tough luck, isn’t it?”

  “Cool it, Kenny,” I said firmly, grabbing her arm. “Let’s get out of here.” And between the four of us, we managed to get her outside into the corridor.

  “What did you do that for?” Kenny said crossly. “I was just about to knock her block off!”

  “That’s what we were worried about!” Rosie pointed out. “D’you want Mrs Weaver to go ballistic?”

  Kenny suddenly started grinning from ear to ear. “Hang on a sec,” she whispered, and tiptoed back into the bathroom. The Spanish girls had already gone into the showers, and Kenny moved silently along the row until she saw Maria’s red pyjamas, which were hanging over one of the doors. Kenny reached up, grabbed them and chucked them straight out of the open window.

  “Ay! Mi pijama!“ We heard Maria yell indignantly from inside the cubicle, but we didn’t wait to see what happened. We fled along the corridor back to our rooms, laughing our heads off.

  “That’ll show her!” Kenny giggled, as we skidded to a halt outside Fliss, Rosie and Lyndz’s room. “Serves her right!”

  “I see you’re all up bright and early.” The door of the next room opened and Mrs Weaver came out. “Breakfast in ten minutes, remember.”

  “Hey, that’s a bit of a downer,” I whispered to the others as Mrs W went off. “I didn’t know she was in the room next to you lot. If we have a sleepover, she’ll hear everything!”

  “Yeah, that’s a point,” Kenny agreed. “And we definitely can’t have one in our room because of Alana Banana.”

  “Alana’s so dopey, she might not notice,” Lyndz said hopefully.

  “Yeah, but we’d have to listen to her snoring!” I said. “Nope, we’ll just have to have the sleepover in your room, and hope Mrs Weaver doesn’t catch on.”

  “Come on, let’s get dressed, and go and grab some breakfast.” Kenny headed back down the corridor towards our room. “I’m starving!”

  The canteen was in a large, spacious hall next door to our dormitory block. Most of the kids from our school were already there, sitting at long tables, and so were the teachers. We collected our cereal and toast, and joined them.

  “Where’s Alana, Frankie?” Mrs Weaver asked with a frown.

  “She’s just getting up, Miss,” I replied. “Well, she’d opened her eyes anyway.”

  We sat down and started to attack our food hungrily.

  “Right, everyone, we’ll be meeting at the entrance of our dormitory block in exactly half an hour,” Mrs Weaver said briskly. “We’ve got some very exciting activities planned for you down on the beach this morning, and you’ll have a chance to meet up with some of the other school children who are staying here.”

  Kenny groaned. “Oh, great! Like I really want to spend the morning with those gruesome Spanish girls!”

  “I wonder if Maria got her pyjamas back!” I said with a grin.

  Just at that moment Maria and her friends walked into t
he canteen. They clocked us straightaway, but instead of looking angry, they started giggling and pointing at us.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Fliss asked. “Why’re they laughing at us?”

  “Who knows?” Kenny shrugged. “Just ignore them.”

  We soon found out why Maria and her friends were in hysterics on our way back to the dormitory block. There was a tree just outside the canteen, and there were clothes hanging off some of the branches. There was a football shirt, two T-shirts, a pair of jeans and a pair of pink knickers.

  “That’s my best top!” Lyndz wailed.

  “Those’re my favourite jeans!” I yelled.

  “That’s my Spice Girls T-shirt!” Rosie gasped.

  “And those’re my knickers!” Fliss hissed in a strangled voice.

  “Someone’s chucked our clothes up here!” Furious, Kenny jumped up and tried to grab her football shirt, but she couldn’t reach it. “And I bet I know who!”

  “What I’d like to know is how they knew where to find our stuff in the first place,” I said.

  “They must have watched which rooms we went to when we left the bathroom,” said Lyndz.

  “Hurry up!” Fliss begged, as Kenny shinned quickly up the tree. “Before anyone comes!”

  “You know what?” Kenny said through gritted teeth as she grabbed Fliss’s knickers and chucked them down to her. “This means war!”

  “Look at them!” Kenny whispered in my ear, disgusted. “They’re laughing their stupid heads off!”

  “Yeah, we’ve got to think of a way to get our own back!” I agreed, and Rosie, Fliss and Lyndz nodded.

  We were just getting onto our minibus and the Spanish girls were getting onto their one, which was parked next to it. They were smirking at us smugly through the windows.

  “I’d like to push them into the swimming pool!” Fliss muttered under her breath as we sat down. “I can’t believe they threw my knickers into a tree!”

  “They’re gonna be sorry they messed with us,” Kenny growled. “I ripped my footy shirt while I was getting it down.”

  We all glared at the Spanish girls, and they pulled faces at us.