Bella's Backyard Bullies

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Bella's Backyard Bullies Page 6

by Samantha Turnbull


  The anti-princesses band together in defence, just like Grace told us to. We’re like a wall protecting our half of the field. Every time a Vernon tries to get past, an anti-princess blocks him.

  ‘Keep it up, girls!’ Grace calls from the goal. ‘Don’t let them through!’

  The boys are fast and strong, but they’re lacking one key ingredient: teamwork. Everyone is attacking, but they’re too keen to score. No one is passing the ball. They’re ball-hogs.

  ‘Pass it to me, Mark!’ Matt yells.

  Mark keeps the ball and tries to dodge our defence, but we’re sticking to him like glue. We’re like icing on fingers, but we’re not about to get licked.

  The half-time whistle blows and Grace calls us into a huddle. ‘Great work, anti-princesses,’ she says. ‘We’ve followed our game plan and kept the score at nil. They’re making it easy by not cooperating with one another. But now, we need to think about getting the ball to Emily so she can score for us.’

  The second-half whistle blows and we take our positions.

  Emily kicks off and chases the ball. She gets it back after it rebounds off Marlow’s shin.

  Michael sprints towards her and throws out his leg. He trips her. Deliberately.

  Phweeeet. The referee holds up a yellow card.

  Grace calls out from the goal: ‘Don’t let them bully you!’

  The Vernons are getting frustrated. I intercept a pass from Matt to Mark and dribble the ball forward. But before I get a chance to kick to Emily, Marlow crashes into me, sending me face-first into the mud.

  Phweeeet. The referee holds up a red card.

  ‘But sir!’ Marlow says. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

  The referee orders Marlow off the field.

  My knees are bleeding. I sure have lost a lot of skin lately. I grit my teeth and get up.

  Even with Marlow’s absence, I’m scared we won’t be able to get the ball to Emily.

  Suddenly, I hear Grace’s dad from the crowd on the sideline. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he shouts. ‘You’re leaving your end open!’

  Grace has left the goal exposed and is dribbling the ball upfield. She easily weaves in and out of the spaces between the shocked boys.

  Mark and Matt rush towards her, but she delicately chips the ball over their heads.

  Then it happens.

  Emily traps the pass from Grace as the Vernons’ goalie leaves his spot to cut down her angle. Before he gets the chance, Emily lines up her right boot and kicks the ball. It sails into the air, following a perfectly U-shaped curve (Emily says it’s called a parabola) and lands on the grass beneath the crossbar. The ball rolls into the goal.

  ‘We did it!’ I scream.

  Phweeeeeeeeet. It’s the full-time whistle.

  Mission Kick Butt: complete.

  An announcement booms over the school’s loudspeakers.

  ‘Everyone, please make your way to the hall for a special assembly.’

  Ms Bayliss puts down her whiteboard marker and claps her hands. ‘You heard it,’ she says. ‘Everyone up and to the hall.’

  This is weird. The last special assembly I remember was to check our heads for nits. Everyone had to line up and have their scalps examined with fine-tooth combs. They found a couple of the suckers in my hair. I’m still itching just thinking about it.

  ‘What could it be?’ Chloe asks me as we follow the crowds from the neighbouring classrooms to the hall. ‘Do you think we’re in trouble?’

  ‘I hope not,’ I say. ‘Mum and Dad only just got over the bus fight.’

  Everyone arrives at the hall and sits on the floor. Our knees overlap once we all have our legs crossed. This room could really do with a redesign.

  The principal, Mrs O’Neill, takes the stage. ‘Good morning, everyone.’

  ‘Good mooooooorrrrrrrrning, Mrs O’Neill.’

  ‘We have a special guest at school today. Please welcome Professor Jenkins, the chief astronomer at the observatory.’

  Chloe squeals quietly.

  Mrs O’Neill hands over the microphone to the professor.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ says Professor Jenkins, ‘I’m here to tell you about a very important discovery that was made recently right here in Newcastle. Could we have the lights off, please?’

  A hush sweeps over the hall. I grab Chloe’s hand and clench with all my might as the lights dim. Suddenly, a massive photo of Chloe’s comet flashes onto the screen onstage.

  ‘Does anyone know what this is?’ Professor Jenkins asks.

  A hand appears above the crowd in the middle of the hall. It’s a vermin. Michael.

  ‘That’s a comet,’ he says. ‘No doubt about it.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Professor Jenkins shines a laser pointer at the image. ‘And we know it’s a comet because of this tail.’

  The hall lights brighten and Professor Jenkins scans the crowd.

  ‘The most exciting thing about this comet is that the state observatory has confirmed it has never been seen before,’ she says. ‘And the person who discovered it is a student at this school.’

  ‘Oohs’ and ‘aahs’ fill the hall. Kids start looking around, trying to figure out who the star astronomer could be.

  Chloe closes her eyes, savouring the moment.

  ‘Could everyone please put their hands together for Chloe Karalis,’ Professor Jenkins says. ‘Chloe, come on up.’

  Chloe opens her eyes and makes her way through the crowd towards the stage. She’s radiating. Like a star.

  ‘Woooooot, wooooooo!’ I yell. ‘Go, Chloe!’

  Two voices call out from the opposite side of the room.

  ‘Yeah, Chloe!’ Emily screams.

  ‘Hooray for Chloe!’ Grace shouts.

  Professor Jenkins shakes Chloe’s hand and gives her a framed certificate. ‘I hereby announce the discovery of Chloe’s Comet,’ she says. ‘Well done.’

  Applause erupts, but Chloe brings her index finger to her lips, motioning for everyone to shush.

  She takes the microphone from a perplexed Professor Jenkins. ‘With respect, professor, I would prefer not to have the comet named after me.’

  The professor raises one eyebrow. ‘Don’t you want to be credited for this discovery? Naming a comet after the person who discovered it is standard practice, not to mention a great honour.’

  Chloe hands back the certificate. ‘I’d like to name the comet after my grandmother, my yiayia,’ she says. ‘Her name is Eleni.’

  Professor Jenkins takes off her glasses and dabs her eyes with a handkerchief from inside her sleeve. ‘What a lovely gesture. We’ll reprint this certificate right away. Eleni’s Comet it is.’

  Applause erupts again. Louder this time.

  Mission Eleni: complete.

  A black van pulls up at the front of my house. A man’s head pops out the driver’s side window.

  ‘I’m looking for the Singh–MacKenzie residence,’ he asks. ‘This it?’

  Emily, Chloe and Grace surround me. ‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Who’s asking?’

  The man turns off the engine and steps outside. ‘I’m Monte Vernon,’ he says. ‘I’ve got my boys here to help you renovate your treehouse.’

  Another MV. Don’t the vermin realise there are other letters in the alphabet?

  The side door of the van slides open and out hop Mark, Matt, Michael and Marlow.

  They seriously don’t want to be here. Their bottom lips are hanging so far out, I wonder if they’ll stretch to the ground.

  ‘Hang on, I forgot something,’ Marlow says. He jumps back in the van and emerges with a plank of wood.

  ‘Oh, it’s our club sign,’ I say. ‘Um, thanks.’

  The Vernons’ dad shuts the van door. ‘Do what the girls tell you, boys,’ he says. ‘Mum will be back to pick you up tonight.’

  The vermin stare at the ground.

  ‘Well, this is nice and awkward,’ I say. ‘Come into the backyard and we’ll show you the treehouse. Not that you haven’t seen it before.


  The Vernons shuffle through the house to the back deck.

  Mum, Dad and Max helped me dismantle the treehouse roof yesterday. There’s a pile of bamboo rods and sheets of plastic next to the tree.

  ‘So, here’s the deal,’ I say. ‘We’re adding a dome-shaped frame to the second storey. It will be made from bamboo and covered in plastic.’

  Marlow makes a ‘hmmmph’ sound. Something tells me he’s impressed, though he’s trying to act cool. ‘So you want to build a geodesic dome?’ he asks. ‘Like the top of a planetarium?’

  I’m surprised he understands my artistic vision. ‘That’s right, ver— I mean Marlow.’ I unfurl my blueprint and everyone gathers around.

  ‘That’s not bad,’ Marlow says. ‘I mean, it’s going to be pretty lightweight because we’re making it from bamboo, but it should be okay.’

  ‘I think you’ll be surprised by its strength,’ I say. ‘Once the triangles are all pieced together the half sphere will be very sturdy. I could’ve used wood, aluminium or PVC piping, but I would’ve needed a team of professional builders.’

  Marlow rubs his hands together. ‘Well, let’s get started,’ he says. ‘We could even decorate it. A mural on the outside would look awesome.’

  I hadn’t thought of decorating. All I know is that the inside of the dome will be covered in white plastic so we can project images onto it, and the outside will be black.

  I’m tempted to take Marlow back to the house and show him my sketchbooks, but I need to explain the plans to the rest of the group.

  ‘We’re going to need sixty-five pieces of bamboo,’ I say. ‘Thirty-five long pieces, and thirty slightly shorter ones.’

  ‘I’ll start measuring,’ Emily says.

  Mark pulls his own tape measure from his back pocket. ‘You can mark the measurements we need and I’ll saw them into pieces.’

  Emily looks sideways at me.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I tell her. ‘They’re here to help. Marlow, you can help me piece the lengths of bamboo together with eyelet screws and cable ties. Grace and Matt, you two lift the frame, piece by piece, up to the second storey. You’re the strongest ones here.’

  Grace flexes her biceps a little. They’re bigger than Matt’s.

  ‘Oh, I know you’re strong,’ he says. ‘You tackled me in the street, remember? And you were pretty much the best player on the field in the soccer tournament.’

  Grace starts to climb the ladder. ‘Well, you weren’t too bad in the soccer game yourself. It’s just that no one would pass the ball to you at the right moment.’

  ‘Chloe and Michael, you can cut the plastic to size,’ I say. ‘And stretch it over the frame once it’s put together.’

  Before I can say ‘planetarium’, everyone is getting along as if we’d never had an argument.

  Michael looks up at the sky. ‘I wish I could discover a comet. You must be stoked, Chloe.’

  ‘You can have a go of my telescope one day if you want,’ she says. ‘You can spot comets during the day too. Oh, of course you know that.’

  We work right through lunchtime until Mum appears on the deck with a tray. ‘Hey kids, you haven’t eaten,’ she says. ‘Take a break.’

  Marlow frowns at the food on the tray.

  ‘They’re samosas,’ I say. ‘Indian fried pastries filled with potatoes, onions, peas and lentils.’

  He takes a bite. ‘Yum,’ he says. ‘They’re tasty.’

  ‘We all like a lot of the same things, don’t we?’ I ask. ‘Maybe we should be friends.’

  Matt grunts. ‘We can’t,’ he says. ‘We promise not to wreck any more of your stuff. Or steal any more of your stuff. Or send any emails about stuff. But we can’t be friends.’

  I look at Marlow for a response. Surely he has changed his tune after getting to know me.

  ‘Is that what you all think?’ I ask.

  No one answers.

  Emily pegs a pea at the treehouse in disgust. ‘You vermin are so immature,’ she says. ‘Don’t you know boys and girls can get along just fine? What are you, preschoolers?’

  Mark stands up and confronts Emily, eye to eye. ‘Save your speech for the video camera, Emily. You’re the one who brought this on.’

  The other Vernons gather around Mark. They’ve got their angry faces on again.

  The anti-princesses mirror their pose and back up Emily. It’s a gang face-off.

  ‘You’re the one who ruined our mum’s beauty pageant,’ Mark says. ‘That video made her the laughing-stock of our neighbourhood. That’s why we had to move here to your stupid suburb and to your stupid school.’

  The email, the vandalism, the general horridness. It’s all falling into place.

  ‘Don’t you get it?’ Mark asks. ‘We had to make you pay for what you did to our mum.’

  Emily is mortified. She had no idea she had ruined the lives of Fiona ‘Hungry’ Vernon and her entire family.

  ‘Come on, boys,’ Mark says. ‘Let’s get this planetarium built and get out of here.’

  For the next four hours, we all piece together bamboo triangles without another word.

  Marlow and I place the last five pieces of bamboo to meet at a single point in the centre of the dome.

  Chloe and Michael drape the sheet of black plastic over the top of the frame and tack the white piece onto the inside.

  The planetarium is done by the time the Vernons’ black van arrives in the driveway.

  ‘All finished,’ I say. ‘An actual planetarium in our treehouse.’

  Mission Makeover: complete.

  But there’s no jumping up and down and cheering like usual when we complete a mission.

  Mum appears on the back deck with Hungry. ‘Wow, that looks fabulous,’ Mum says. ‘Good job, everyone.’

  They walk across the yard to have a closer look. Hungry takes a snap of us all in front of the tree with her phone. We pull fake, cheesy grins.

  ‘I hope my boys pulled through on their end of the deal,’ she says. ‘Don’t worry, they’re still in trouble at home.’

  For the first time in history, Emily doesn’t know what to say. She’s still wracked with guilt for uprooting the Vernon family.

  ‘Mrs Vernon, we’d like to apologise,’ I say. ‘Your sons were just trying to get back at us because of what we did to you. They wouldn’t have been so mean if we hadn’t ruined your beauty pageant and your life.’

  Hungry’s shiny white teeth almost blind us as she smiles. ‘Oh, don’t be so silly, you didn’t ruin my life,’ she says. ‘That video didn’t only make Emily famous, it made me famous too.’

  The boys shout together: ‘What?!’

  ‘We had to move because of them, Mum!’ Mark says. ‘We had to start a new school and everything.’

  Hungry throws her head back and laughs like a kookaburra. ‘Oh boys, is that what you think? We moved closer to the city so I could pursue my modelling career. I need to capitalise on the fame from that pageant video.’

  The anti-princesses start giggling. I don’t know what’s funnier – the thought of Hungry modelling or the looks on the Vernons’ faces.

  The boys mutter their goodbyes and slink away to the van with their celebrity wannabe mum. Just before they’re out of earshot we hear Hungry’s last words.

  ‘What were you boys thinking, trying to stick up for me like that?’ she asks. ‘Don’t you know I don’t need rescuing?’

  I love climbing up into the new Anti-Princess Club headquarters. I’m so lucky to have a planetarium in my own backyard.

  As I look up at the dome, I think how funny it is that the Vernons helped us build this.

  Now that the saga with the eggs and the emails has ended, we anti-princesses have actually become really good friends with them. We don’t refer to them as vermin anymore – even behind their backs.

  Emily and Mark are always battling against each other in online games. Turns out Mark is quite obsessed with computers too – can’t code a website, though.

  Grace
and Matt meet once a week to practise soccer. Grace’s new goal is for the Anti-Princess Club soccer team to win an entire tournament – not just one round like they did last time.

  Chloe is forever hanging out with Michael on her apartment balcony with their telescopes. He wants to discover a comet just like she did. And Yiayia is super proud to have had a nucleus made up of ice and dust named after her.

  Marlow and I decided to leave the outside of the planetarium black. Any other artwork may have interfered with the projection of images onto the inside of the dome. But we’re working together on a design for a cubby in the Vernons’ backyard. They don’t have any trees, so it has to be on the ground. I’m trying to convince him it should be in the shape of an igloo, but he likes the idea of a pyramid.

  His mum takes great delight in watching us work together after all the drama. ‘Who would’ve thunk it?’ she always says.

  Speaking of Hungry, she eventually did get a foot in the door of the modelling industry. Literally. She’s a foot model. Her left foot featured in a hiking boot ad. All thanks to the Anti-Princess Club making her famous.

  Looking back, it seems the Vernons’ nastiness was all based on one big misunderstanding. It really had nothing to do with us being girls. The boys just wanted to avenge their mum. I guess they thought they were superheroes or something. Yawn.

  Now that we’re buddies, I hope they don’t try to pull any similar stunts to stick up for us.

  Whatever lies ahead, there’s one thing I’m certain of: we won’t need rescuing.

 

 

 


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