“It’s tight at the top,” Winston declared, as the screen flickered and refreshed. “But thanks to a storming performance in that last round, St Jude’s have caught up and are tied with Royal Windsor for first place!”
I couldn’t help it; I let out a loud SQUEAK of EXCITEMENT. It was all down to the final round – literature. A sudden wave of anxiety sloshed away my earlier euphoria at our perfect score; Royal Windsor looked like a bunch of bookworms. They were bound to do well in this round. The question was, could we keep up?
We were doing well up to the last question. Then the thing I’d been dreading happened; a difference of opinion between me and Rebecca.
“Question ten: In the correct order, list the full name of Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School.” Winston peered around the room, a serious expression on his face. “And as the scores are so close, we will need the order to be exactly right to award the point.”
Without a word, Rebecca bent her head and began to scribble down the answer.
“Hang on,” I protested. “Aren’t you going to ask us?”
She didn’t look up. “No, I know the answer.”
I craned my head, trying to read what she was writing. “So do I. And you’ve got it wrong – it’s Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. You’ve put Brian in the wrong place.”
Rebecca lowered her pen. “No, Professor Dumbledore’s full name is Albus Percival Brian Wulfric, in that order.”
Folding my arms, I met her stare. “Want to bet?”
Nathan looked from Rebecca to me. “They’re collecting the answers in. We need to decide now.”
“I promise you, I’m right,” I insisted, willing him to trust me.
He hesitated. “Okay, let’s put it to the vote. Who thinks it’s Percival Brian?”
Predictably, Bilal and Rebecca raised their hands.
“Which means me and Cassie think Wulfric comes after Percival.” Nathan thought for a moment, then closed his eyes. “I hope you’re right, Cassie. Put Albus Percival Wulfric Brian.”
I thought for a second Rebecca was going to refuse but then she picked up her pen and changed it. Before any of us could speak, the paper was snatched from the table and taken to the markers.
Instantly, my stomach started to roll. What if I was wrong? Had I just lost us the quiz? One look at the faces of my team-mates told me they were wondering the same thing.
It felt like FOR EVER until all the scores had been updated. The screen didn’t change, though. Instead, Winston stood up and held his hands out for quiet.
“Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for – the results! It’s been a real nail-biter but in third place, we have Riverside Secondary School with eighty-eight points!”
Applause broke out and Riverside let out a volley of loud whoops.
Winston waited for the noise to die down. “In second place, with a brilliant ninety-one points, is…” He paused in a way that made me think he’d been watching way too much X FACTOR and gazed around. “Royal Windsor Preparatory School!”
We’d done it – WE’D WON! All four of us leaped to our feet, yelling and cheering. I glanced over at Royal Windsor to see them politely clapping. They looked like they’d lost a winning lottery ticket.
“And the winners of today’s regional heat, with an amazing ninety-two points out of one hundred, is St Jude’s Secondary School!” Winston finished. “Congratulations, Team SJ!”
Mr Bearman headed our way, smiling proudly. Rebecca looked like she was going to cry and Bilal had the biggest smile plastered across his face.
“You know what this means?” Nathan said, grinning at me. “We got full marks in that last round. You were right.”
“Never doubted it,” I lied.
Then he leaned towards me and I thought for one heart-stopping second he was going to hug me. But he let his arms drop at the last moment. “See? I knew you were going to be our secret weapon.”
What can I say? I might not be the brightest student in our year but I’d come through when it mattered. And believe me, it felt good. Really, really good.
Chapter Seventeen
The thing about doing something amazing, like winning the regional heat of the Kids’ Quiz for the first time in the history of your school for example, is that news travels pretty fast. Especially when the Headteacher speeds things along by getting all emotional about it in assembly. So for a whole week after Team SJ had brought home the glory, the four of us were heroes. Okay, so the older year groups were less impressed, and some of them thought we were TOTAL GEEKS, but the rest of Year Seven thought we were AWESOME. I wondered what would happen if we won the national quiz next term – we’d be total legends. Well, Rebecca, Bilal and me would be. Nathan already is. Did I mention how much I LIKE him?
But then the buzz about winning the quiz faded and ST JUDE’S HAS GOT TALENT fever took hold. Seriously, it’s like Willy Wonka has released another batch of Golden Tickets and you can only get one by embarrassing yourself in front of the judges. People I’d never have suspected of wanting their fifteen minutes of fame have suddenly come out with dubious talents of all descriptions and the entire playground seems to have turned into a rehearsal space. Is ARMPIT FARTING the national anthem really a skill? Anyway, I am starting to have more respect for Liam and the other members of WOLF BRETHREN; next to some of the acts, they do look like rock gods.
The auditions are going on all this week, with the finalists being announced on 28th November. That means I have another seven more days of Liam’s strops to put up with – seriously, he is dealing with the stress of waiting by competing with Mum in the moodiness stakes. And it will only get worse if WOLF BRETHREN reach the finals. I may start going with Dad to his Elvis gigs just to get away from the atmosphere at home, and if that doesn’t paint you a picture of how DESPERATE I am, nothing will.
It feels to me like Mum has been pregnant for ever. Her bump is so large that it is in danger of altering the sun’s gravitational field and I fully expect NASA to announce that all the planets have mysteriously begun to orbit the Earth. She’s really struggling to move around now and it won’t be long before she can’t fit behind the wheel of the car any more. I feel bad watching her waddle around and am trying not to let her grumpiness get to me; if my stomach was the size of an over-inflated SPACE HOPPER, I might be stroppy too. She’s got this thing called carpal tunnel syndrome in her hands as well, which means she can’t open the jars of pickled onions to have with her bananas. Overall, I think that’s probably a good thing, though. I hope the twins appreciate what she is going through for them; I’m sure I was never this much trouble.
I still haven’t had a chance to make up with Molly. Shenice agrees that she did a nice thing in talking me up to Nathan, and that she must have done it on the quiet before we fell out, but she hasn’t got a clue about how to fix our broken friendship. It doesn’t help that Molly is still WOLF BRETHREN’s number one groupie. Maybe things will get easier once SJHGT is over and we can all be friends again. I hope so. Shen’s great but it’s not the same without Molly. We’re like SNAP and CRACKLE without POP.
The list of finalists is up on the school website and – OMG TO THE MAX – Molly’s name is there! So is WOLF BRETHREN’S but I kind of expected that. I know I go on about Liam being rubbish at guitar but I suppose they are pretty good at their own kind of THRASH-TASTIC rock, if you like that sort of thing.
I can’t believe Molly is going to have to sing in front of the whole school. She talked about auditioning but I wasn’t sure she’d really go through with it. Nathan says she admitted to him that she’s really nervous about performing in front of everybody, which made me wonder if she’s talked to him about why we fell out – probably not. It would have made stuff really awkward for him. Anyway, it didn’t surprise me to hear she’s worried about her performance but, knowing Molly, I reckon she’ll be desperate to show everyone what she’s made of, too. I wish I could tell her how pleased I am for her. I have settled for as
king the universe to help her to win.
I’m so glad that the ARMPIT FARTER didn’t make the final cut. Tickets are only two pounds fifty but there are some things I’d pay NOT to see. There are three dance acts, four singers, Liam’s band and something else called REPERCUSSION – whatever that is. Oh, and someone’s dog has made it into the final – I’m not even kidding. I might have thought about entering with Rolo if I’d known dogs were allowed on the premises. Although thinking about it, probably not. He’d try to eat everyone’s lunch or something.
With only a week until the final, the hype around school is unbelievable. Seriously, Simon Cowell could learn a thing or two from St Jude’s about whipping people into a FRENZY. Everyone is talking about who their favourite act is and rivalries are breaking out between fans. Even Molly has stopped handing out WOLF BRETHREN flyers at lunchtime. I know who I’ll be voting for. Blood might be thicker than water but you can’t just ignore seven years of friendship, even though we’ve hit a bump right now. She’s been there for me in the past; the least I can do now is support her, whether she wants me to or not.
I am really glad I decided not to enter SJHGT. Liam is so tired from all the extra rehearsals WOLF BRETHREN have been putting in that he can hardly string a sentence together. Some people (i.e. me) might say that’s a good thing but I think Dad is worried Liam is going to PASS OUT onstage during the final today. He tried to give him a pep talk over breakfast this morning – Liam just grunted like a ZOMBIE and crunched his toast. At least it’s the weekend tomorrow and the contest will be over – I suppose he can sleep all day if he wants to, and we can all chill out a bit. Except for Mum, who can’t get comfy anywhere and looks like she is about to pop.
The school theatre has been off limits for the last two days so that it can be decorated. There are rumours that the drama department has built three gigantic light-up Xs above the judges’ seats and that our Deputy Head, Mrs Pitt-Rivers, will be TWERKING while the votes are being counted. I have no idea whether either of these rumours is true but I’m pretty sure no one wants to see Mrs Pitt-Rivers SHAKE HER THANG.
The excitement in the air was almost at fever pitch by the time we all filed into the theatre and sat down. There was a massive ST JUDE’S HAS GOT TALENT banner above the stage, surrounded by red, white and blue balloons, and there were two giant screens on either side of it. On each seat, there was a ballot sheet. I exchanged an excited look with Shenice; at some point in the next ninety minutes, Molly might be taking home the ST JUDE’S HAS GOT TALENT trophy. She’d be the nearest thing the school had to a celeb!
Mrs Pitt-Rivers climbed up the steps to the stage and waited for the chatter to die down. Muffled giggling broke out and I guessed people were wondering if the rumours were true. I doubted it – surely she couldn’t be planning to DANCE in that long tweed skirt and bobbly cardigan?
“Welcome to the first ever ST JUDE’S HAS GOT TALENT!” she said, and there was a screech of feedback from the microphone. “We have some amazing acts lined up for you this afternoon but first, please welcome our judges!”
We clapped as the music from THE APPRENTICE boomed out of the speakers and the three judges – the Head of Year Ten, Mr Bearman and the Headteacher – took their seats in front of the stage.
Mrs Pitt-Rivers raised her microphone again. “Here’s how the contest will work. Each act will perform once. You will get the chance to vote for your favourite. Then the judges will choose the overall winner out of the three most popular acts.”
The white screens to either side of the stage burst into life and the names of the acts appeared in what I supposed was the running order. I nudged Shenice; Molly was on fourth, after POM-POM THE PERFORMING POODLE. WOLF BRETHREN were on second to last, after TRUE STREET CREW but before REPERCUSSION.
“And now, please welcome our first performers – TWO 2 TANGO!”
Leading the applause, Mrs Pitt-Rivers backed off stage and a boy and a girl I vaguely recognized from Year Ten came on. The girl wore a slinky black and red dress, split all the way up her thigh, and her partner had a matching red shirt and black trousers. I knew they were going to be good before they’d even danced a step.
And they were; they looked like they’d fit right in with the pros on STRICTLY COME DANCING. The next act was a Year-Eight boy, who sang “BABY” by Justin Bieber – he wasn’t half-bad either. Both of the acts so far had been great and I started to feel really nervous for Molly. It had been a while since I’d heard her sing – was she good enough to beat all these brilliant performers? The standard was so high. Then POM-POM THE POODLE and her owner took to the stage and things went a bit wrong. I won’t go into detail but let’s just say they quite literally put the poo into “poodle”.
It took several long minutes to clear up after Pom-Pom and my quivering nerves got worse. Beside me, I could see Shenice nibbling at her nails as Molly walked onstage. We needn’t have worried, though – she was unbelievably AWESOME. She stood there like she was born to perform and sang “You Raise Me Up”, by some American guy called Josh Groban. Her voice was note-perfect and beautiful and the whole theatre was transfixed. I swear I even saw Mrs Pitt-Rivers wiping away a tear at the end and the applause was thundering.
Next up was another dance act, followed by a girl singer who was nowhere near as good as Molly and a boy who forgot his words. Then TRUE STREET CREW came on and their routine was packed with sharp moves. I recognized a couple of Year-Seven kids in the squad – on another day, they might have got my vote.
About halfway through their performance, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Liam. Meet me in the corridor. NOW.
I frowned at the screen. What was he doing texting me? Wasn’t he about to go onstage?
Why? I replied, trying not to let any teachers see me do it. The last thing I needed was to have my phone confiscated on a Friday afternoon.
Less than ten seconds went by before my phone vibrated again. Just do it!
Scowling, I looked along my row of seats. I’d have to get everyone to stand up to let me pass; people would complain. Whatever Liam wanted, it would have to wait.
My pocket buzzed insistently. Hurry up! It’s important.
I let out a sigh and leaned towards Shenice. “I’ve got to go. BRB.”
Puzzled, she half stood and I squeezed past her. Tuts and muttering broke out as I made my way along the row of seats. Then I was in the aisle and heading for the exit.
One of the teachers stopped me. “Where are you going?”
“Toilet, sir,” I whispered. Seeing he was about to send me back to my seat, I improvised a bit more. “I think I might have that tummy bug that’s been going around. The really sicky one.”
I’ve never seen anyone back off so fast and I guessed he had plans for the weekend.
“Come straight back here when you’ve finished,” he said, not quite managing to stop his hand from covering his mouth. “Be as quick as you can.”
I nodded and slipped out into the corridor. The door to the theatre closed behind me, muting TRUE STREET CREW’s music and I looked around for Liam. He was hovering at the end of the corridor, by the doors to the dressing rooms. I frowned; was he really dressed as a werewolf?
“Liam!” I stage-whispered. “What do you want?”
He turned and saw me. As he hurried forwards, I realized his expression wasn’t that of a nervous performer; he was worried.
“I’ve just had a text from Dad,” he said, his voice tight. “Mum’s been rushed to hospital. We need to go, right now.”
Chapter Eighteen
My stomach twisted at Liam’s words and suddenly the SICK FEELING I’d invented to get out of the theatre seemed all too real. The babies weren’t due until Boxing Day – if they were on their way now, they’d be more than three weeks early. That couldn’t be a good thing.
“What happened?” I demanded. “Is something wrong with them?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Dad said Mum’s wate
rs broke and the hospital told them to get there as fast as they could. Auntie Jane is coming to pick us up.”
I stared at his white face and forced myself to breathe slowly. “So he didn’t say there was a problem? Just that they shouldn’t waste any time going to the hospital?”
Liam checked his phone. “Yeah. I’ve told the lads I can’t go onstage with them. They understand.”
I leaned forwards and read the text message from Dad. There was no mention of any real danger and it actually sounded as though everything was under control. My stomach muscles started to unclench and I began to relax. The hospital was probably being cautious; surely they tell every pregnant woman to go in once her waters break, let alone the ones having twins. It would probably be ages yet. Like I said, I’ve seen ONE BORN EVERY MINUTE and sometimes it takes days. Then Liam’s final comment filtered through to my brain. “You’re not going onstage? Why not?”
He ran an agitated hand through his over-waxed hair. “I can’t. We need to get to the hospital.”
Applause broke out in the theatre; TRUE STREET CREW must have finished their performance.
I shook my head at Liam. “You should go on with the band,” I told him, amazed at how much calmer than him I was. “It’ll take Auntie Jane a while to get here from across town and ten more minutes isn’t going to make any difference.”
He threw a longing backwards glance at the stage door. “You think so? Mum and Dad won’t mind?”
“I think they’ll have other things on their plates right now,” I said, pulling a face. “They’ve probably forgotten we even exist. In fact, we should get used to that.”
He still hesitated and I shooed him towards the stage doors.
“Look, I’ll text Dad and make sure everything is okay. Now go, or you’ll miss your big moment.”
Completely Cassidy – Accidental Genius (Completely Cassidy #1) Page 7