Party Time

by Fiona Cummings

  “I think what you mean, Ryan, is that yes, we do have television now. But there wasn’t a broadcasting service at all until 1936.”

  “Imagine life without Match of the Day!” moaned Danny McCloud. “Bummer!”

  “That’s exactly what I want you to do, Danny! Imagine what life would be like,” Mrs Weaver went on. “I want you to think of all the things you take for granted now, and find out when they were invented and how they have developed. Work in your groups, but I don’t want any noise. Understood?”

  We all nodded, and started chattering away.

  “I love doing this kind of thing,” I told the others. “You learn about stuff without even realising it.”

  But Kenny wasn’t listening. She was propped up on the desk, eyeballing the M&Ms. “Open your bags,” she was muttering under her breath. “Come on!”

  “There’s almost too much to think about,” Lyndz said, doodling on her notebook. “I mean, loads of stuff must have happened since 1900.”

  “Yeah, but what’s the most important?” I asked. I looked around the classroom. “I mean, look at computers. They haven’t been around for that long, have they? And now everyone’s got them.”

  “And they use them in supermarkets and banks and stuff where you can’t even see them,” added Rosie.

  “My gran thinks supermarkets are really new!” laughed Lyndz. “She says that she used to have to queue up at loads of different shops for her shopping. Imagine that – it would take ages!”

  Fliss didn’t seem to be listening to the rest of us either. She was doing loads of little drawings. Typical Fliss.

  “Come on Fliss, we’re supposed to be working!” I told her.

  “I am working!” she snapped, showing me her drawings of fashion designs. “Clothes have changed loads since 1900. Women still wore long dresses then. And Mum said that when girls started wearing mini-skirts in the 1960s, it caused a real stir. There must have been loads of changes in between.”

  Fliss did have a point.

  “Drawing dollies, are we?” Emma Hughes sidled across and peered over Fliss’s shoulder.

  “No I’m not!” snapped Fliss, and covered her work with her arm.

  “What are you doing, Thomas? The development of experiments using dolls?” asked Emily Berryman.

  They both giggled in that stupid way they have.

  “And what are you doing? The history of not doing any work, as usual,” Kenny sneered. “You haven’t even got anything out of your bags yet.”

  “We’re just going to look at some books!” Emma ‘the Queen’ Hughes said crossly, and they both stalked past us to the book corner.

  We settled down again and made loads of lists. Nearly everything we could think of that was important in our lives had been invented since 1900. We looked things up in books and on the computer, and the time flashed past. We even talked about the work over break too, which is very unusual for us. Well, the rest of us talked about it – Kenny didn’t. She kept trying to see whether the M&Ms had their bags with them. They didn’t.

  When we got back into the classroom after break, Mrs Weaver said that she wanted some idea of what we would all be contributing to our play. I could see the M&Ms huddled together with their cronies. They kept flashing looks over to our table, then whispering and giggling together.

  “Well, what are we going to do?” I asked the others. “Any ideas?”

  “Fashion!” Fliss piped up. “Please let’s! It’d be dead cool.”

  “I don’t want to get involved in a stupid fashion show!” grumbled Kenny.

  “It won’t be a fashion show, it’s history. Please, pretty please!” Fliss pleaded.

  The rest of us looked at each other.

  “Oh all right!” we agreed, but Kenny looked pretty disgusted.

  “Right then, who’s going to start?” asked Mrs Weaver.

  Emma Hughes stuck up her hand and started waving it about. She always has to get noticed. And with Mrs Weaver, it usually works.

  “Yes, Emma, what have you got planned?”

  “Well, we thought we’d trace the history of fashion since 1900,” she said, ever so sweetly.

  “But that’s what we were going to do!” squealed Fliss. “That’s not fair, she’s copied us!”

  Poor Fliss was quite red in the face and angry.

  “Now, Felicity, there are lots of exciting ideas to cover,” soothed Mrs Weaver. “I’ll give your group a few more minutes to think of another topic. Well done, Emma, that’s a splendid idea.”

  I thought Fliss was going to cry, I really did. Especially when we turned round and saw the stupid M&Ms and their awful cronies grinning at us.

  “We’ll get you!” Kenny mouthed to them menacingly.

  “What should we do?” I whispered to the others.

  “What about television and radio – stuff like that?” suggested Rosie.

  But just then Ryan Scott announced that they were covering television.

  “I don’t believe it!” grumbled Rosie.

  “What about computers, then?” I suggested.

  “OK!” the others agreed, but you could tell that they weren’t very enthusiastic.

  “We’re going to look at the way computers have altered our lives,” piped up Kevin Green, who’s a real swot.

  We all groaned. Mrs Weaver thought that we were being rude about Kevin Green and turned to us crossly.

  “Well, Francesca, what is your group going to entertain us with?”

  My mind went blank. I couldn’t think of a thing.

  But then Kenny piped up, cool as you like, “We’re going to look at medical developments since 1900.”

  “What?” shrieked Fliss. Blood and gore are just not her thing at all.

  “It’ll be cool, Fliss, trust me!” Kenny grinned.

  “Excellent!” smiled Mrs Weaver, clapping her hands. “Books out everyone, it’s time to do some maths!”

  Kenny nudged me. “Watch this!” she hissed.

  Everyone bent down into their bags…and a few seconds later, there was this terrifying scream! Emma Hughes ran for the door with awful slime dripping from her hands. Her friend wasn’t far behind.

  We immediately turned to Kenny.

  “Wicked, isn’t it? I made up some of our sleepover slime last night,” she whispered, grinning madly. “And it was great because it felt just like snot. But the best bit is, I added some of Merlin’s droppings as well!”

  Fliss shuddered. She hates even the thought of Kenny’s pet rat.

  “That’s gross!”

  “And you poured it into the M&Ms’ bags?” squeaked Lyndz. “Fab!”

  Mrs Weaver had gone to investigate. When she came back into the classroom, she was mega mad. And so were the M&Ms, who were following behind her.

  “I hope that no one in here is responsible for that ridiculous prank,” Mrs Weaver barked.

  We all looked suitably shocked.

  “Because I warn you, I’m going to come down like a ton of bricks if I find anybody engaged in such childish behaviour.”

  I swear that she looked right at Kenny as she said that. But Kenny just nodded in a really serious way, like she was agreeing with everything Mrs Weaver said. She’s got a nerve, that girl!

  When we were finally getting on with our work, Rosie whispered:

  “We haven’t had a slime-fest like that at our sleepovers for ages. We ought to do it at our next one!”

  And then I remembered. We hadn’t actually planned our next sleepover. And it was going to be the BIG ONE – our New Year’s Eve sleepover! I couldn’t believe that those stupid M&Ms had made us forget about it! I felt all excited at the thought. But of course, I didn’t know then just how exciting it was going to turn out to be!

  The others went into mega-planning mode when I reminded them about the New Year sleepover.

  “I can’t believe we actually forgot about it!” sguealed Lyndz. “We’ve never forgotten about a sleepover before.”

  Kenny narrowed her
eyes and looked menacingly across the playground. “Those M&Ms have a lot to answer for!”

  “Chill out, for goodness’ sake!” said Rosie, leaping on Kenny’s back. “Our sleepover’s more important than them. Where are we going to have it? And what are we going to do? We’ve got to make it really special. Hey, Kenny! Stop! Put me down, NOW!”

  Kenny had gone racing across the grass outside our classroom with Rosie clinging furiously to her back. The rest of us creased up – they looked hilarious. Only Rosie didn’t seem to think so when Kenny finally came back and dumped her on the ground next to us.

  “You really are a nutcase!” she fumed. “You could have killed me!”

  Rosie can still be a bit too serious sometimes, so there was nothing for it but to tickle her until she begged for mercy.

  “But what are we going to do for the sleepover?” asked Fliss at last. “Can’t we do something a bit, I don’t know – grown-up? I mean, it is kind of special seeing in a new year.”

  We all agreed that we should do something different, but I knew that we wouldn’t be able to agree on anything more than that.

  “Look, let’s ask our parents if we can have a sleepover on New Year’s Eve first,” I suggested. “Then once we know where we’re going, we can decide what we’re going to do.”

  Even as I was saying that, I knew that we wouldn’t be having it at my place. I didn’t think Mum would mind. But Dad’s something else. I mean, ever since he knew that Mum was pregnant, he’s been clucking round like a mother hen. He used to be all cool and laid back, then suddenly he went into fusspot overdrive. To hear him talk, you’d think my friends and I were a pack of wild animals out to destroy our house, and scare Mum into the bargain. And he’s just got worse and worse. Whenever he starts fussing, Mum just raises her eyes behind his back, and we have a good giggle about it together when he’s gone.

  Still, I thought I should mention our plan. So that night when I was washing the dishes, I said:

  “I don’t suppose I could have a sleepover here on New Year’s Eve, could I?”

  “On New Year’s Eve?” Dad plopped a few cups into the soapy water. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure my nerves could stand seeing in the new year with all your crazy friends.”

  But he was smiling as he said it. “Sorry champ!” He ruffled my hair. “Maybe next year. We’ll see.”

  “Yes, sorry Frankie,” Mum smiled at me sympathetically. “But I think your dad’s probably right.”

  I wasn’t really disappointed, because that’s exactly what I’d expected him to say. I just hoped that my friends were having better luck.

  When the phone rang a bit later, I knew it’d be for me.

  “I’ll get it!” I yelled.

  “Hi Frankie, it’s me, Lyndz.” She sounded fed up.

  “Don’t tell me,” I said. “You can’t have the sleepover at your place.”

  “How did you know?”

  “It didn’t exactly take Sherlock Holmes to suss that one out,” I sighed. “You sound really cheesed off What’s up? Why won’t they let you have one?”

  “Apparently Mum’s promised Stuart and Tom that they can have a few of their mates round. I said that was cool because we’d just join in. But Stuart and Tom both said ‘No way and Mum and Dad seemed to agree. Their friends are all stupid morons anyway. I wouldn’t want to have a party with them.”

  Still, poor Lyndz sounded really upset.

  “I’ve had no joy either, because of Mum,” I told her. “But don’t worry, I’m sure one of the others is having better luck than we are.”

  “I hope so. See you tomorrow.”

  I decided to give Kenny a ring to see how she was getting on. Bad move! She was in the middle of a huge row with Molly and her older sister Emma about using the phone. And every time she started to speak to me, the other two started yelling at her.

  “I’ll ring you back Frankie,” she shouted. Then – silence. The line had gone dead.

  “I hope they haven’t murdered her,” I said, shivering really dramatically when I told Mum and Dad what had happened.

  “Her father’s probably pulled the phone out of the socket, more like!” Dad laughed. “You do realise that in a few years we’ll have two people to fight with for the phone?”

  He smiled at Mum and patted her stomach and they went all soppy-eyed. They’ve been doing that a lot lately. I thought I might heave, so I went to my room.

  To be honest with you, I didn’t give the sleepover much thought that night. I was sure that someone had sorted something out. I kind of hoped that it wasn’t Fliss though. She’d make us play stupid games and her mum would make us eat silly little sandwiches. And we wouldn’t be able to let our hair down in case we made a mess of her clean and tidy house. I know that sounds awful, but girls just want to have fun sometimes. You know what I mean?

  Anyway, as it turned out I needn’t have bothered about Fliss, because the next morning she told us that her mum was organising her own party.

  “And I don’t think she can cope with one of our sleepovers as well,” Fliss explained.

  Lyndz and I rolled our eyes at each other. I don’t think Fliss’s mum copes with our sleepovers at the best of times.

  “Actually” muttered Fliss in her quietest voice, “I thought I might like to stay at home and join in with Mum’s party myself. You wouldn’t mind, would you? I mean, not having a sleepover on New Year’s Eve after all?”

  Rosie had joined Lyndz and me by that time, and we all stared at Fliss open-mouthed.

  “Of course we’d mind!” I screeched. “You were as excited as any of us about it! And now that something better has come along, you expect us to drop the idea altogether. Well maybe the rest of us will have our sleepover without you!”

  I didn’t really mean it, but Fliss winds me up sometimes. She always expects us to alter our plans just to suit her. But it looked like our plans were altering anyway. Rosie hadn’t had any joy in persuading her mum to let us have the sleepover at her place either.

  “She says she’ll see,” Rosie told us glumly. “And that usually means she’ll pretend to think about it for a fortnight and then tell me the answer’s ‘no’ anyway.”

  I tried to sound positive. “Let’s hope McKenzie comes up with the goods. She usually does.”

  Typical Kenny. The one morning we were all desperate for her to be early (apart from Fliss, who’d gone off by herself to sulk) was the one morning she was very late. She was so late that Mrs Weaver was about to mark her absent in the register. And Kenny didn’t look happy. She didn’t look happy at all. In fact, if I didn’t know her better, I’d swear that she’d been crying.

  We knew by the way that she slammed all her pens on the desk that she was in a bad mood. We were supposed to be finding out about medical developments in the twentieth century for our bit in the play. But Kenny just made loads of doodles in her notebook. And they were all doodles of really gory things, like blood spurting out of hearts and severed legs and stuff. Awful!

  When break came, I couldn’t bear it any longer. As soon as we got outside I tackled her.

  “What on earth’s the matter with you? Don’t tell me – your dad’s forbidden you from using the phone ever again?”

  “Worse than that. Although he was so angry with us all last night that he did pull the phone out of its socket,” Kenny admitted.

  I just laughed. “Dad said that’s what would have happened.”

  “Why the long face then?” asked Lyndz.

  “I’m not going to be here on New Year’s Eve,” Kenny blurted out. “We’re going up to Scotland to spend it with my grandparents.”

  What? I just never thought that one of us wouldn’t actually be around.

  “Well that’s it, then. We can’t have a New Year sleepover now, can we?” I couldn’t bear to see Kenny so miserable.

  “Hang on a minute!” It was Fliss. “When I said that I couldn’t come, you said you’d have the sleepover without me. When she,” she pointed
at Kenny, “says she can’t come, you say that you can’t have a sleepover. That’s not fair! You like her better than me, don’t you?”

  Typical Fliss, only bothered about herself.

  “Don’t be silly, Fliss. It’s different because Kenny really wanted to come and she can’t. You told us that you’d rather go to your mum’s party,” I pointed out “Besides, we probably wouldn’t have had a sleepover without you either.”

  Fliss smiled weakly.

  “I was really looking forward to that sleepover,” Kenny mumbled. “I’m sorry that I’ve let you down.”

  “Don’t be daft. We’ll just have to arrange something special for when we’re all around.” I tried to sound bright, but I was really disappointed too. I’d been convinced that our New Year sleepover was going to be the best yet.

  “Still, there is a plus side to all this.” Kenny started to grin. “We’ve got more time to plan our revenge on the M&Ms. I’ve had a few ideas already …”

  We went into a huddle and Kenny outlined her plans to us. And when I say that they were wicked, I mean that in every sense of the word. Fliss looked quite pale when she’d heard them.

  “I’m not sure about this,” she kept whimpering. “I think we might be taking things too far this time. What if we get into trouble?”

  Fliss hates the thought of anyone telling her off.

  “Look, it’s almost the end of term. By the time we put this into practice, there’ll only be a couple of days to go. What can anyone do to us then?” reasoned Kenny. “Besides Fliss, they did steal your idea for the play. Don’t you think that deserves a little revenge?”

  Fliss thought for a bit.

  “Well I guess so,” she admitted slowly. “But I don’t want to do any of the risky stuff, OK? And I certainly don’t want to get messy.”

  So I guess you want to know what we did to the M&Ms then? It was mega, MEGA, MEGA brilliant. But Fliss was right to be worried. It did get a bit out of hand.

  Now as you know, the M&Ms are the yukkiest things on the planet at the best of times. Well, multiply that by a billion and you’ll guess how awful they were as we prepared for our end-of-term play They got up our noses big time. They swanked about in their costumes, telling everyone how wonderful they were. And what made it worse was that the clothes they were going to wear were really fab. They had spangly dresses with fringes on them, and dresses with sticky-out skirts.