Natural Born Loser

by Oliver Phommavanh

  I can’t help but chuckle. ‘You know the rules, we can only go on weekends during the school term.’

  ‘Fine, I’m getting in the bathtub.’ Gina stomps her way to the bathroom.

  ‘Remember not to put your unicorn plushies in there, like last time,’ I say. ‘They don’t float.’

  At dinnertime, Gina comes to the table, wearing a toilet paper roll on her nose, held there with a couple of bandaids.

  She stabs me in the arm with her horn. ‘I’m a unicorn.’

  I rub my arm. ‘Yeah, an angry unicorn.’

  ‘Please take off your horn before you eat,’ Mum says.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Mum, unicorns can’t do that.’ Gina grabs a spoon. ‘Plus unicorns are supposed to eat ice cream and sprinkles for dinner.’

  I pretend to stick my spoon on my nose for a horn. ‘Now I want to be a unicorn too.’

  Mum scoops some rice into Gina’s bowl. ‘So, Raymond, now that you’re a pro at washing cars, could you wash mine?’

  ‘If you pay me twenty bucks,’ I say. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll go towards our school fund.’

  ‘Deal.’ Mum holds out her hand.

  My mouth drops. I should have asked for more. ‘How about you, Dad? Want me to wash your car?’ I ask.

  Dad laughs. ‘You know my car is cursed. Then again, it hasn’t rained here for a while, my plants could use the water.’

  ‘So what’s your next fundraiser?’ Mum says.

  I shrug. ‘We want to do something that everyone will go nuts for.’

  ‘Dress up like a unicorn day!’ Gina touches her horn. ‘I can make you a horn to wear on your head.’

  ‘How about you, Mum?’ I say. ‘I dare you to wear a horn to work too. I’d pay ten bucks for that!’

  ‘Make it twenty and you’re on,’ Mum says.

  I rub my chin. ‘Mmmm, that’s not a bad idea.’

  ‘Really?’ Mum’s mouth drops.

  ‘You can’t back out of a dare,’ Dad says.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum, I was just kidding.’ I dig into my rice. ‘But it’s given me an idea. We can dare kids at school to do things and get their friends or parents to sponsor them.’

  It’s time to shake things up a little. It’s time to make a fun-raiser.

  After our disastrous time at the leadership course, I thought we wouldn’t have a prefects meeting this week, but I turn up to the library at lunchtime, just in case. Randa and Ally are already sitting down around a table, trading coloured sticky notes. ‘I think some neon pink would make your diary look more colourful,’ Ally says.

  ‘I’m not a pink person,’ Randa says. ‘Could I have your green ones instead?’

  ‘Of course,’ Ally says. ‘I need to be more organised like you.’

  ‘Then get a paper diary,’ Randa says. ‘My mum never leaves home without one.’

  I pull out a chair and Zain comes rushing over. ‘Thanks, RayBee,’ he says, sitting down on the chair. ‘Now I’m not the last one here.’

  Randa flips to a fresh page in her diary. ‘Okay, should we choose another fundraiser from our first list, or does anyone have another suggestion?’

  Zain puts his hand up. ‘A tower-building comp?’ he says, with a smirk.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ Randa says.

  ‘How about a dareathon?’ I quickly say, before another fight breaks out.

  ‘A dareathon?’ Ally says. ‘Is that like a walkathon?’

  ‘Yeah, except people sponsor you to do a dare,’ I say. ‘Zain and I do it all the time.’

  Zain leaps up. ‘RayBee, can you dare me to kick a goal from the other side of the field?’

  ‘Nah, man, it has to be a challenge,’ I say.

  Zain slaps my back. ‘Okay, how about I try to land it in the park across the road?’

  I grin back at him. ‘That’s better.’ It’s nice to have the old Zain back. When he’s at Barryjong, he’s just a normal kid. Well, as normal as someone can be with his wild hair and hypo-energy levels.

  Randa rolls her eyes at Zain and jots down ‘Dareathon’ in her diary. ‘Thanks, Raymond, that’s actually an awesome idea. But let’s go check with Mr Humble first.’

  We all follow Randa out to find Mr Humble. He’s out in the playground, surrounded by little kids.

  ‘Hello, prefects, are you here to rescue me?’

  I stare at the kids and their grubby, snotty hands. ‘You’re on your own, Sir.’

  We tell him about the dareathon and Mr Humble taps his chin.

  ‘In all my years of being at schools, I’ve never heard of anything like this …’

  ‘Is it too crazy?’ Ally asks.

  ‘No, this is amazing!’ Mr Humble says. ‘Sign me up for any dares.’

  Randa nods enthusiastically. ‘Raymond, why don’t you announce it in our prefects spotlight at this Friday’s assembly? It was your idea.’

  ‘It’s our idea now,’ I say.

  The bell rings and we wade through the heat of the day back to our classroom. When we walk in, Miss Saxena is holding her spray bottle. ‘Who wants some water mist?’

  We all raise our hands. She walks around like she’s watering the garden. When she sprays the mist into my face, it feels cool for a few seconds before the water mixes in with the sweat.

  ‘We should dare Miss to use a super soaker on us,’ Zain says.

  ‘What?’ Miss Saxena says.

  I tell Miss Saxena about the dareathon and she rubs her hands together. ‘Oh, I can dare Zain to keep his mouth shut for a whole morning.’

  ‘That sounds terrible,’ Zain snaps.

  ‘No, it’ll sound like pure peace and quiet.’

  Randa puts her hand up. ‘I’ll chip in five bucks to hear that sweet noise.’

  Zain pulls his chair back, kicking the table. ‘That’s so lame.’

  ‘Come on, Zain, it’ll be for a good cause,’ I say.

  Zain folds his arms. ‘Okay, okay. It better be worth it.’

  By the time Friday swings around, I’m itching to tell the whole school our idea. I grab the microphone for our prefects spotlight. ‘Our next fun-raiser is our very first Dareathon Day in two weeks’ time. Come up with a dare for someone or do it yourself, and get people to sponsor you.’

  ‘Like Randa’s dared me to dance for the whole of lunch, non-stop,’ Ally says.

  ‘Ally’s dared me to wear my shirt back to front and walk backwards all day,’ I say.

  ‘You’ll all get a sponsorship form next week,’ Randa says. ‘So start thinking of some awesome i-dares.’

  We hop off stage and Mr Humble pats us on the back. ‘I think you prefects are onto a winner with this one.’

  ‘Thanks, coach,’ Zain says.

  ‘This school is crazy, so why not tap into it?’ Ally adds. ‘I’ll make some posters with my friends.’

  ‘Do you need any help?’ Randa asks. ‘I’m not as good as you, but …’

  ‘Yeah, for sure,’ Ally says. ‘Any reason to hang out more, right?’

  ‘Hey, I like that fundraising tally in the office,’ Randa says. ‘I’ve seen kids checking it out when they get to school in the morning.’

  Ally smiles. ‘Thanks, Randa Panda … I can call you that, right?’

  Randa laughs. ‘Sure, it’s a prefect’s perk.’

  It’s good to see Randa getting along with Ally. I wish I could say the same for her and Zain. Or even with Zain and me. I mean, we’re still friends, but I just don’t want to follow him like a zombie any more. Besides, I’m getting the hang of throwing out my own ideas and making them work.

  At home that night, Gina’s overflowing with dares and won’t stop bugging me.

  ‘I dare you to eat worms. Or brush your teeth with tomato sauce. Or hold your breath for five minutes,’ she says.

  ‘How about you do that now?’ I say.

  ‘Raymond!’ Mum frowns. ‘How about you write some of those dares down, Gina?’

  ‘Good idea!’ Gina scrambles to her room for her pencils.

&
nbsp; ‘This is officially the craziest thing to happen to Barryjong,’ Mum says. ‘And it’s all because of my son.’

  ‘Can you get your friends to sponsor us?’ I say.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pass it around and grab you plenty of sponsors.’ Mum squeezes my shoulder. ‘You prefects are already making a difference to Barryjong.’

  I laugh. ‘We’ll only truly make a difference if we can get the air con.’

  Otherwise, we’ll be remembered for all the wrong reasons.

  We hand around the sponsorship forms at school on Monday, and that night Gina and I are keen to get some sponsors. After dinner, we walk around the neighbourhood, knocking on doors for the Dareathon. ‘Let’s try Mr Wee,’ Gina says.

  ‘Okay, just promise me you won’t call him by that name,’ I say.

  We knock on the screen door and Mr Lee’s little Jack Russell starts yapping wildly. Mr Lee opens the door. ‘Hello, Raymond and Gina.’

  ‘Hello, Mr Wee,’ Gina says, bursting into giggles. ‘Oopsie, I mean Mr Lee.’

  I stand in front of her, catching my reflection in Mr Lee’s bald head. ‘We’re raising money for our school fundraiser …’ I begin.

  ‘Oh, my wife tells me I can’t buy any more chocolates.’ Mr Lee puts his hand over his stomach. ‘I need to look after myself.’

  ‘No, we’d like you to sponsor us in a Dareathon,’ I say.

  ‘What will I be sponsoring you to do?’

  ‘I’m going to dress up like a unicorn in a tutu and make the world’s longest lazy straw,’ Gina says. ‘And Raymond’s wearing his shirt the wrong way around and walking backwards all day.’

  Mr Lee’s glasses slide down his nose. ‘What?’

  ‘We’re doing crazy challenges and dares next week at school,’ I say. ‘It will all help us raise money for some new air con for our classrooms.’

  ‘Well, that’s much better for my waistline.’ He fills in our sponsorship forms. ‘I’ll give you the money when you’ve completed your dares.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Lee,’ Gina says. ‘I’ll bring you some photos of my dare.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to that,’ says Mr Lee, raising his eyebrows at me.

  Gina skips through his gate. ‘Yay, that’s another five dollars for me.

  ‘Don’t forget, it’s not your money,’ I say. ‘It’s for the school, so you can stay cool when you’re in Year One next year.’

  ‘Will you still be prefect then too?’ Gina says.

  ‘I’ll be in high school,’ I say.

  Gina pulls away from me. ‘You won’t be with me any more, big bruh …’

  I give her a cuddle. ‘That’s why I really want to do this for you, Gina.’

  Sometimes I forget how wide the age gap is between Gina and me. Most kids get to spend a few years with their brothers and sisters at the same school.

  Gina turns around and taps my prefect badge. ‘Can I have this next year?’

  ‘Um, you can’t wear it at school, unless you become a prefect,’ I say.

  ‘I’ll just keep it in my pencil case.’ She puffs up her cheeks. ‘It’ll be like you’re here with me.’

  I nod. ‘Sure, you can have it.’

  Gina slips her little hand into my palm. ‘I’m lucky to be a perfect’s sister.’

  I don’t feel like correcting her. I’m going to miss doing school stuff with Gina. I’ve got to make my final year at Barryjong count, so everyone knows that Gina had a prefect big brother, who made a difference at school.

  I walk out of the house on the day of the Dareathon and almost lose my dare in a few steps. I soon find out how hard it is to walk backwards, let alone with your shirt on back-to-front. I’m using Gina as my eyes, but so far, she’s had me bump into street poles, bins and a few stray cats.

  ‘You’re nearly at the school,’ Gina says. She’s dancing around in her tutu, which could be why she’s not the best guide. But I can’t stay mad at her when she’s making such a big effort. Her schoolbag is overflowing with straws.

  ‘Miss is going to let the whole class help me make my giant straw,’ she says excitedly.

  ‘Cool, we’ll visit your class and take some photos later,’ I say, bumping into the school gate on my way in. ‘That’s if I can make it there.’

  Mr Humble is roaming the playground, dressed like a clown.

  ‘I thought you only had to wear a rainbow wig,’ I say.

  ‘A few office ladies triple-dared me to wear the clown outfit as well,’ Mr Humble says. ‘No skin off my red nose!’

  ‘Thanks for getting behind our Dareathon,’ I say, laughing. ‘We’ve never had a principal who wanted to help us like you do.’

  Mr Humble honks his red nose at me. ‘That’s what any normal principal is supposed to do.’

  I laugh. ‘Normal would be the last word I’d use to describe you.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Mr Humble says as he sets off to honk his red nose at another group of kids in the playground.

  Randa arrives at school in her sports uniform, even though it’s not our sports day. Zain’s dared her to score a goal at recess. ‘I’ve watched plenty of videos on YouTube of Michael Kola from the Western Wizards,’ she says. ‘It can’t be that hard.’

  I spot Ally doing some stretches in front of the hall, preparing for her danceathon at lunch. ‘I’ve been practising a forty-minute routine,’ she says. ‘I’ve had heaps of sponsors from my dance academy.’

  At morning assembly, Mr Humble rides on stage on a bike, honking his red nose. Kids laugh and clap, except for half the kindy kids who burst into tears. I guess clowns are still pretty scary, especially one as tubby as Mr Humble.

  ‘I want to thank Raymond and the other prefects for this day,’ he says, ‘where we celebrate what Barryjong kids are good at.’

  ‘Doing crazy stuff,’ Randa mutters.

  After Mr Humble sends us all off to class, Zain nudges me. ‘Why did he just say your name?’

  ‘Cos it was his idea, duh!’ Randa says.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I say. ‘We’re a team, Barryjong United!’

  Zain gives me a weird look and doesn’t say anything back. Maybe he’s practising for this morning’s dare.

  In class, Miss Saxena passes Zain a notepad. ‘If you want to ask a question, you can write it down here.’

  Zain sits down to do his spelling work. Randa claps in front of him. ‘Hey, Zain, guess who’s the best soccer player at school? It’s Bilal!’ She clicks her fingers. ‘I bet you’ll last five minutes.’

  ‘Randa!’ Miss Saxena says. ‘Has Zain taken over your body or something?’

  Randa puts her head down, working on the first Maths question we’ve been given. ‘Psst, Zain, what’s the answer for question one … Zain …’

  Zain scribbles something on his notepad. It’s a comic strip of Randa trying to kick a soccer ball. She misses and falls on her bottom. Randa gulps and gets back to work. Zain grins. A comic strip really does say three thousand words.

  Time goes by pretty slowly without chatting to Zain. He spends the whole two hours just doing his work. The recess bell rings and he bursts into song. ‘Yes, I did it!’

  Miss Saxena walks over. ‘Well done, Zain, now if only you did that every day – or even just half of it.’

  ‘Keep dreaming, Miss.’ Zain grabs his hat. ‘See you out on the oval, Randa Panda.’

  At recess, Randa puffs down to the soccer field. It takes me ages to get there, walking backwards.

  Randa is doing some strange things to warm up, like star jumps where her arms and legs go in all different directions. It’s like she’s trying to wiggle out of a sleeping bag. ‘So I just need to score a goal, like in a penalty shootout?’

  Zan nods. ‘Yep, and you’re going against the best goalie at school, Tim.’

  Everybody crowds around Randa. ‘How many chances do I get?’

  Zain holds up three fingers.

  Randa plops the ball in the middle and goes for a run up. She aims for
the ball and does a complete air swing. Zain clutches his stomach, howling with laughter.

  ‘That doesn’t count because I didn’t touch the ball,’ she says.

  ‘Okay, just remember we only have twenty minutes for recess,’ Zain says.

  Randa gives him a look, then goes back to her starting point and runs at the ball again. She kicks it hard but it drifts off to the left. Tim could have gone to the canteen for a slushee and still come back to stop the ball.

  She kicks the ball again to the left and Tim gobbles it up.

  ‘Come on, Randa Panda,’ Ally says. ‘You can do it!’

  Randa runs over and grabs her notebook. She takes ages, scribbling and drawing, then finally nods with satisfaction and marches back to the ball. This time she doesn’t do a run up but stands just behind the ball. She looks to the left corner, and goes to kick the ball with her left leg. Tim’s legs spring towards the left side, but then Randa quickly shoots the ball with her other leg. Tim goes for a dive, but his fingertips can only skim the ball as it passes through.

  Randa leaps in the air. ‘Goooooooooalllllll!’

  She dances around with Ally who does a few cartwheels.

  Zain walks up to Randa. ‘That was a fluke. But it was a clever shot.’

  ‘It’s a victory for Maths. I calculated the angle to shoot the ball and the time I had before Tim could reach it,’ Randa says.

  ‘How did you figure out his timing?’ I say.

  ‘I just guessed,’ Randa says. ‘Okay, so it was a tiny fluke.’

  Zain holds out his hand to her. ‘Didn’t think I’d ever see you on a soccer field, let alone scoring a goal. Good work, Randa Panda.’

  ‘Same to you, In-Zain Brain. I thought your head was going to explode in class, being so quiet,’ Randa says.

  ‘I couldn’t let down Barryjong United,’ Zain says with a grin.

  I wish I had a camera to take a photo of Zain and Randa being nice to each other.

  After recess, Mr Humble lets the prefect team visit each classroom to check out how their dares are going. He gives Zain his camera. ‘Take lots of photos.’

  ‘Yes, coach,’ Zain says.

  I find Gina’s kindergarten class out on their verandah.