Whenever I’ve been with Dad at the TV repair workshop, he always chats and puts the radio on, but me and Shark Face work in silence. I don’t want to talk to him and he doesn’t want to talk to me. We’re machines on a car-production line, working side by side without looking at each other or talking. The only time Shark Face stops is when the light flickers each time a bus rumbles over the road above us. But he only stops for a second and then starts to work even quicker. It’s like someone has flipped a switch to make him go into overdrive.
Once we’ve tied all the knots, we go back to the planks and lay them across the top like the potato waffle in Ben’s drawing. Shark Face does the measuring and I hammer the nails in. I start to get hot and out of breath. I can hardly keep up with him. He’s going so fast that I wish I had his gloves because my fingers are getting sore.
We tie the last plank. Where the wood was piled up in the middle there is now an empty space. I walk down the side of Shooting Star, looking at her like my dad does when he buys a car. We’ve done the base in only two hours. I tap the wood. Shooting Star is beginning to look like the raft in the film but she’s going to be even better by the time I’ve finished. I check the strings again and hope I don’t look as happy as I feel. Shark Face is smiling like he’s happy too. But Shooting Star isn’t his.
‘Just because you helped doesn’t mean you get to go on it,’ I say.
The smile drops from his face.
‘And Ben will check everything anyway.’
‘Who’s Ben?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I snap.
‘Is he the one who drew the diagram?’ Shark Face points at the blackboard. ‘Because I think he’s made a mistake. He—’
‘No he hasn’t!’
‘He has.’ Shark Face walks towards Ben’s drawing.
‘He hasn’t made a mistake!’ I run round the back of Shooting Star and block his way. ‘My brother has NOT made a mistake. It’s his drawing, and it’s got nothing to do with you anyway. It’s our raft, not yours.’
‘I know. I was just—’
‘You were just going to shut up!’ I kick a bottle across the floor. Shark Face steps away from me. What does he know about building a raft? Ben took ages to draw it and work it out. He didn’t just make it up. He looked it up on the internet and we calculated the weight of the planks and weighed ourselves on the bathroom scales. He said we had to surf over the top of the waves, not get sunk by them. Everything had to be as light as possible, even us, so he said we’d both have to stop eating crisps and drinking so much Coke. Then he worked out how many bottles and buoys we needed to make Shooting Star float. He hasn’t made a mistake. He spent ages on his computer working it out.
I walk towards the cave entrance. Shark Face is looking at me like he doesn’t know what to say or do. I keep walking. I just want to get away from him.
‘Where are you going?’ he mumbles.
‘Looking for bottles,’ I lie.
‘Shall I come?’
‘No!’ I turn and look at him. ‘I don’t want anyone to see you with me. And don’t you dare say anything about this at school tomorrow. You even say my name and you’re dead!’
Alex: I made a mistake
Mum’s in the kitchen cooking tea as I walk in the back door.
‘Hey,’ she says. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘It was okay,’ I say quietly.
Mum looks at Dad.
‘I’m sure he did, but he just doesn’t want to admit it.’ Dad goes to rub my head. I duck out of the way.
‘Sorry, I forgot.’ Dad shakes his head.
Mum puts her hand on his arm like she’s trying to calm him down.
‘Thanks for picking him up.’ She pauses then smiles. ‘Would you like to stay for tea?’
‘No, that’s okay,’ says Dad. ‘I’ll grab something at work.’
I kick off my shoes, run through the hall and up the stairs.
‘Alex! Come here!’ Lizzie shouts out from the sitting room.
‘I need to go to the loo!’ I shout.
‘Just come here.’
‘I—’
‘Pleeease! Just come—’
She won’t stop asking until I do. I crouch down and peer through the banister into the sitting room. Lizzie’s kneeling on the floor, playing on the PlayStation with a friend.
‘We’re playing Minecraft,’ she says. ‘And this is Chloe.’ She points at a girl with blonde hair and glasses.
She’s got my controller in her hands.
I nod.
‘We’ve built a castle and a moat,’ says Lizzie. ‘And we’re going to collect sheep and put them inside.’
‘That’s good.’ I take a step.
‘Yeah. Do you want to help?’
No, I want to wash my controller.
‘That’s okay.’
‘Why are you so grumpy?’
‘I’m not. I just need to go to the toilet.’
‘You are.’
I am grumpy, but I’m also desperate for the bathroom. I put my hand on the banister and continue up the stairs.
‘That’s my brother,’ Lizzie says. ‘He’s weird, but he plays guitar—’
You dare say it.
‘and thinks he’s Justin—’
‘I don’t!’ I shout.
‘Bieber!’
Lizzie and Chloe giggle as I reach the landing. I go into the bathroom, lock it and then wash my hands ten times so I can finally pee. Then I go to my bedroom.
I lie on my bed. My hands start to tingle. Germs on the planks. Germs on the bottles. They got through my gloves, through a gap in the stitching. Germs on the planks. Germs on the bottles. A gap in the stitching. Don’t put them on my bed. Don’t touch anything. Germs on my bed. They’ll grow overnight and be all over me.
Aaargh!
I jump up and go back to the bathroom and start washing again.
Two hours. Two hours. I was in the cave for two hours on my own after Dan left. It was so quiet that every time a wave crashed on the beach it echoed off the cave walls like I was inside a shell. And then the light flickered, as the buses rumbled, and the whole time I thought the ceiling was going to crack and crumble all over me. I thought of going outside, but I could hear the seagulls screeching and I couldn’t risk it in case they dropped poo on me.
I turn off the tap. My fingers are still tingling and then I spot a speck of dirt under one nail. I turn on the tap and start washing again. This is what happens when I go out. This is why it’s safer to stay in. I quite liked working on Shooting Star though. At least when me and Dan were nailing the planks of wood I was concentrating on that and not my worries. I blocked out the dirty floor. I blocked out the germy bottles. For a while, I even blocked out that everybody is going to die. But I did think at one time Dan was going to nail my hand to the wood and I wouldn’t be able to get it off and I’d have to get in an ambulance with a plank of wood stuck to my hand.
The morning went really quickly and everything was going all right until I said his brother had made a mistake on Shooting Star. Then Dan kicked off like he sometimes does at school.
I wish I hadn’t said anything or even looked at the drawing. But I couldn’t help spotting the mistake. If they fit the buoys underneath it, Shooting Star will flip upside down. It’s the same as when I used to be able to go to the swimming pool. If you try to sit on a float, it flips you up or shoots up out of the water. The buoys need to go at the sides, not in the middle. I was going to keep quiet, but even though Dan is horrible I can’t let him drown.
I wash my hands. This is going to be the last time. Then I catch myself in the mirror. My face is white and my eyes are red like an albino rabbit. I’m tired from being out all day and I bet I’ll be tired tomorrow too; I won’t sleep tonight because I’ll be worried I’ll blurt it out at school that I’ve been working at the cave, and Dan really did look like he meant it when he told me I’d be dead if I said anything. If only it was half-term this week and not next.
&n
bsp; I dry my hands and go back into my bedroom. The smell of sausages and onions is drifting up the stairs. I pick Chewie up off my pillow and lie down on my bed.
‘What am I going to do at school tomorrow, Chewie?’
I can’t think of anything for Chewie to say back. He just stares at me through the fur around his eyes. The tune from Minecraft is coming through my floorboards and I can hear Mum and Dad laughing in the kitchen. My fingers start to tingle.
No! The germs are gone now. You can’t!
I force my eyes closed and take deep breaths. I was in the cave for so long I can still hear the waves sloshing around in my head. I like that my room is safe and doesn’t have germs but for a while I liked being outside, even if I had only swapped my room for a dirty cave. But even that got better when Dan closed the door and blocked out the seagulls.
I’ve only worked on her for two days, but I’d really like it if Shooting Star was mine. I’d only have to get through this week and then I could work on her every day on my own over half-term. When she was ready, I’d drag her out of the cave, across the pebbles and down to the sea. I wouldn’t care about the germs. I’d push her out until the waves reached my chest and then I’d grab a rope and clamber on. The waves would lap around me and Shooting Star would bob on them but I’d pick up a paddle and dig it into the water and I’d go past the pier where the water gets darker and deeper. Then I’d stop paddling and look around. The beach would be gone, the people would disappear and the sea would be calm and clean and there wouldn’t be a single seagull in the sky. All my worries would be gone – no Dan, no Sophie, no Georges, no need to go to school at all. I’d be like a normal person.
I open my eyes. ‘Chewie. What was I thinking? That will never happen.’
I was stupid to even think I could ever go on Shooting Star. Dan only wants my help because his brother isn’t around. I wonder where he is. Maybe they don’t live together. Perhaps his mum and dad have split up like mine and Dan chose to live with his mum and his brother chose to live with his dad. I thought of living with my dad, but I couldn’t because Dad would have had to change his job or I’d have to sleep on my own every night. And I didn’t want to leave Mum and Lizzie by themselves either.
I roll onto my side. For a moment, I was dreaming of floating on Shooting Star, but now all I can think of is Dan’s face and what will happen at school tomorrow. Nothing will have changed.
I hear a knock on my door.
‘Alex.’
‘What?’
‘Can we play—’
‘No!’
Dan: My brother is too busy to write to me
Sunday
Dear Ben
I hoped that I would have a letter from you when I got back from the cave, but I forgot the postman doesn’t deliver on Sundays. Maybe I’ll get one tomorrow. I’ve been working on Shooting Star again today. It’s looking great. I’ve nailed all the base planks together and I’ve tied them too.
This is what she looks like now.
I had to stop because the weird kid I told you about started getting on my nerves. He said there’s something wrong with your drawing of Shooting Star. I told him to shut up because he didn’t know anything about making a raft! He made me really mad, so I left him and went to the pier on my own. I found some money that people left behind in the slot machines. I’ll save it so we can go on the rollercoaster when you come home.
I’ve got some questions about Shooting Star.
Some of your writing has got smudged and I can’t tell if I need 300 or 500 bottles.
Am I supposed to use two tyres for seats or will they be too heavy?
Do I need to make paddles or will we just use our hands?
Do I need to get us life jackets?
I think that’s all I need to know.
Hope I get to see you soon.
Love Dan
PS Dad said Albion were great on Saturday. We’ll be top of the league when you get back.
I haven’t been on the Xbox because I’ve been busy but I hope you are still beating XXXXX at FIFA.
Write soooooooooooooooooon!
Alex: I hate Mondays
When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it’s never good news.
It’s Monday morning and I’m sitting in English, trying to read Stormbreaker. Mrs Shepherd is telling the boys and girls who got to the lesson late to sit down and do ten minutes’ reading time, like the rest of us. I start to read again, but I’ve tried five times and the words still haven’t gone into my head because Emma gave me a message from Sophie.
Hey, Shark Face. We’re going to dunk you in the toilet.
I try to block it out, but it feels like the whole class is staring at me. Especially Dan. He was glaring at me as soon as I walked in, like he was sending me messages, daring me to tell anyone I’d been at the cave with him at the weekend. For a moment, on the way to school, I thought he might not be such a bully. But I was stupid to think that, even just a little bit. He hasn’t changed at all. From the horrible way he looked at me when I sat down, I think he really meant what he said about me being dead if I even say his name. He’s sitting four rows behind me, but as I read I can feel his eyes burning like Cyclops’s into the back of my head.
I look at the page and try to read again.
Alex Rider was woken by the first chime.
We’re going to dunk you in the toilet. We’re going to dunk you in the toilet.
His eyes flickered open but for a moment he stayed completely still in his bed—
We’re going to dunk you in the toilet. We’re going to dunk you in the toilet.
I stare at the page. I want to get out of here. I want to go home and sit in my room, but I’m trapped like a rat. I can’t tell other kids I was with Dan and I can’t tell the teachers about Dan.
When the doorbell rings—
Say my name and you’re dead! Say my name and you’re dead!
I screw my eyes tight. A line of cold sweat trickles down my back. I need to write a Worry List, but Emma is sitting right next to me and I can’t let her see. Out of the corner of my eye I see Harry leaning across his desk, talking to Elliott. I think they’ve become friends because they partner up in drama. Elliott sees me looking at him. I wonder if he can tell I’m upset the same way I always knew when he was. I thought of telling him about Dan in the car this morning, but his dad had the radio on low and he would have heard.
Elliott nods at me, then looks down at his book. He knows something’s wrong, but not how bad it is.
When the doorbell rings.
We’re going to dunk you in the toilet. Say my name and you’re dead!
Dan and Sophie will be waiting for me in the corridor at breaktime. I could pretend I need to see a teacher and stand outside the staffroom and say I’m waiting for a new book. They’d never pick on me there. But I did that last week and Mr Hargreaves told me to move because I was blocking the corridor. It’s useless. They always find me; it’s like they track me with GPS.
When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it’s never good news. Alex Rider was woken by the first chime—
They’ve never threatened me with head flushing before.
I rest my head on my hand. I wish I was Alex Rider. Sometimes I think I was named after him and that my dad is really a spy and not a security guard. And my mum is a secretary for all the MI5 agents and she gets me all the gadgets that the spies use – pens that are scanners, shirt buttons that are cameras and watches that spin round on the wrist and turn into guns. I run through the streets, chasing after bad guys, and when I catch them I handcuff them to car-door handles or lampposts and sit on the wall while I wait for the police to arrive.
But I’m nothing like Alex Rider. Mum gets my pens from Tesco’s and all my watch does is remind me how long I’ve got until they get me at breaktime. I’m nothing like Alex Rider because Alex Rider wouldn’t spend two hours a day washing his hands. The only thing we share is our name. He runs around the streets, saving the
world, while I walk along them, trying to avoid dog poo.
Alex Rider was woken by the first chime …
Emma nudges me again. She’s got another message in her hand.
Shark Face. Don’t forget your handwash and shampoo.
I push the note away and flip to the blank pages at the back of my book. Emma glances over. I make a barrier with my arm so she can’t see what I’m writing.
My Worry List
1. Everybody is going to die.
2. The toilet is filthy and poo will go in my hair.
3. I wish Dan would die.
4. I wish Sophie would get run over by a bus.
5. I’m a terrible person. I deserve to die for thinking that.
6. There’s white stuff on the desk.
7. I really don’t wish Sophie would die.
8. But I think the old man on the crossing is going to die.
9. Everybody is going to die.
Everybody is going to die.
My collar feels tight like a snake is wrapped round my neck and my hands are sweating inside my gloves.
Everybody is going to die. Everybody—
‘Everybody is going to die!’ I shout. ‘Everybody is going to—’ I stop and look around. I’m standing up behind my desk, but I don’t remember standing up. Everyone in the class is staring at me; some of them have their hands over their mouths, trying not to laugh.
‘Alex, is there something wrong?’ asks Mrs Shepherd with a concerned expression on her face.
‘Everybody – is – going – to – die.’
Mrs Shepherd walks towards me.
‘Well, I hope not,’ she says. ‘Or we’ll never find out what happens to Private Peaceful.’ She’s trying to be kind and funny at the same time, but it doesn’t stop the rest of the class from laughing. Mrs Shepherd tells them to shush. I sit back down in my chair and try to loosen my tie. There’s cold sweat running down my back and I can feel my heart thudding against my ribs. Emma is looking at me. Mrs Shepherd is looking at me. The whole class is looking at me just like that dream you have where you go to school with no clothes on.
‘Okay, okay, that’s enough, Year Seven … George, I said enough! … Now just get back to some quiet reading.’
All the Things That Could Go Wrong Page 11
