‘It’s 1 out of 35,’ Randa says. ‘Besides, Mr Humble might want to choose someone popular like Britney or even Ally, so the kids are happy.’
‘How would he know they were popular?’ I say. ‘He’s a principal, he could find out easily.’ Randa plays with her thumbs. ‘If the kids voted, I would be down the bottom for sure.’
‘Nah, you’re the cleverest person here.’
‘And this is Barryjong, where nobody likes a smartypants,’ Randa says. ‘Sometimes I wish I could go to another school.’
‘That’s what my cousin did,’ I say. I don’t mention that she’s happier than ever, in case Randa jumps ship. Our school’s IQ would sink to rock bottom if she went. Plus I would miss having her around.
Mr Humble comes on stage with a piece of paper. ‘When you hear your name, come up on stage to get your badge,’ Mr Humble says. ‘Ally Syn.’
Ally leaps forward out of 6L. All I know about her is that she’s a dancer. She’s in the local schools’ dance spectacular every year. She’s one of our only celebrities. Well, the ones worth celebrating.
‘Next up we have Randa Bashir and Zain Afrani …’
Randa walks up with her head held high. Zain pulls his shirt up above his head and runs down the aisle like a headless chook, scaring a few kindy kids. He beats Randa to the stage. I let my shoulders droop and my backpack drops to the ground with a thud. There are already two kids from 6S so the other boy should be from Ally’s class, 6L. I’m happy for Zain. I mean, there was no way I …
Bilal shoves me out of the line. ‘Come on, Raymond!’
‘Huh?’ I say.
‘Mr Humble called your name.’
I stagger up to the stage, bumping around into other kids like I’m playing human pinball. Mr Humble sticks a shiny badge on my chest. It doesn’t hurt, so maybe this a dream.
Zain screams in my ear. ‘We did it, man!’
Okay, now I’m awake, probably for the next few days straight.
I turn to face the stunned crowd. It’s like I’m looking into a mirror. Our school has never been so quiet before, not even when we’ve had to do a minute of silence for special assemblies.
Then Russell Carney starts booing. His booming voice rises up from the Year Six kids. ‘What a bunch of nobodies,’ he shouts.
Mr Lovett sends him out but it’s too late. The booing’s spread all the way down to the little kids. Mr Humble raises his hand and the booing stops. He launches into a mini lecture about respect and other stuff I can’t remember, because I zoned out. ‘I hope we can do better as a school when these prefects host our weekly Friday assemblies.’ He walks off stage and we follow him.
Ally’s legs go all wobbly. ‘Did we do something wrong?’
‘We haven’t done anything yet,’ Randa says. ‘Carn-age likes making trouble.’
‘We should make him pick up papers,’ Zain says. ‘Or wear a giant paper bag with holes and a sock in his mouth.’
Mr Humble comes over to shake our hands. ‘Congratulations, prefects. Wow, talk about a first impression …’
‘Maybe they’re just not used to having prefects,’ Ally says.
‘We’ll win them over.’ Zain turns to Mr Humble. ‘So, who are the captains, Sir?’
‘Captains?’
‘We usually have two captains and two prefects,’ Zain says.
Mr Humble spreads his arms out wide. ‘You’re all equal.’
‘You can’t have four captains.’ Zain scratches his head. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Sorry, Zain, you’ll be working as a team,’ Mr Humble says. ‘That’s how I normally have it at my schools.’
‘Oh … okay.’ Zain’s shoulders slump. He walks off with Randa and Ally.
‘There are three prefects from one class, Sir,’ I say. ‘Couldn’t you pick another boy in 6L?’
‘You were my first pick.’ Mr Humble rubs his belly. ‘You stood out to me.’
‘Really?’
‘Nobody else told me how they felt about Barryjong,’ he says. ‘I’ve been at many schools with low school morale, and the first step is getting kids to care.’
‘What do you mean?’ I say.
‘Imagine being a supporter for a team that was coming dead last, and didn’t win a game all season,’ Mr Humble says.
‘That would suck,’ I say.
‘Well, ten years ago, that was the Western Wizards. To make matters worse, a small group of rowdy Western Wizards supporters started coming to games, lighting up flares and starting fights. Whenever I wore my jersey around, people would think I was one of those troublemakers.’
I gulp. They sound like grown-up bullymons. ‘So what happened?’
‘The club found out who they were and banned them for life,’ Mr Humble says. ‘So, I won’t let a few rotten apples spoil it for everyone else here.’
‘But I’m not a leader,’ I say.
Mr Humble pulls a sheet of paper from his folder. ‘I want you to read this.’
I stare at the sheet. How to be a natural born leader. ‘It’s the same as the poster in your office.’
Mr Humble nods. ‘Ten points for observation!’
‘How can you learn to be a natural born leader? Isn’t it already too late?’ I say.
‘It’s never too late, Raymond, that’s why I’m giving you a go. I think the other prefects can learn something from you.’
That sounds like a joke but I don’t laugh. I don’t say anything. I tuck the sheet under my arm.
Mr Humble chases the other prefects down and hands them a sheet too. ‘Read this and think about it. I’m also taking you all to a leadership course soon, so we can work up your skills.’
Zain folds his sheet up. ‘Thanks, coach.’
‘Yes, maybe I should get a whistle …’ Mr Humble smiles and walks off, whistling a tune instead.
‘Why is Mr Humble our coach?’ Ally says.
‘Because we’re like a soccer team, you can call us Barryjong United!’ Zain says. ‘And I’m captain … and Randa, you can be vice-captain.’
‘Why am I vice-captain?’ Randa slaps Zain with her sheet.
‘Because I called it first!’ Zain says.
Randa huffs and puffs him away. ‘We need to have a prefects’ meeting at lunchtime today, in the library.’
‘Huh? Who made you captain?’ Zain says.
‘Stop it!’ Randa says. ‘There is no captain. But we need to do some planning. Barryjong isn’t going to fix itself.’
‘I need to roam free on the field at lunch and recess, I’m like a zebra out in the wild,’ Zain says. ‘I can’t stay caged up in the library.’
‘Well, you don’t have to be at our prefects meeting if soccer is more important to you,’ Randa says.
‘Good.’ Zain kicks the air and walks off. ‘You coming, Raymond?’
Zain’s going off like a kettle. He takes out his hacky sack and wraps his fist around it. ‘Randa’s only been a prefect for five minutes and she’s already Miss Bossy Boots. Pfft, who’s going to listen to a nerd?’
‘But she’s full of ideas for this school,’ I say. ‘Randa’s also a tough cookie, the kind that can break your teeth. She could beat me up with her pinkie.’
‘Come on, man.’ Zain presses his fingers into my chest. ‘You’re a prefect now, you have to show that you’re tougher than anyone here.’
‘Even Russell Carney?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, we can’t be pushed around like the last prefects.’ Zain stuffs his hacky sack and the leadership sheet into his pocket. ‘Trust me, you don’t need to learn how to be a natural born leader. You just have to feel it.’
I clutch my sheet. I wish I could be a zebra like Zain. But I’m a meek meerkat. I’m going to need more than feelings and a badge to make it as a prefect at Barryjong.
I’ve been fidgeting with my prefect badge all morning. I’ve never seen our Barryjong school logo so shiny before. It’s almost like I’m at a brand-new school. I stare at our motto, Aim High. We only say those
words when we sing the school song, badly, at Friday assemblies. It’s only ever been helpful for kids who shoot spit balls.
Zain takes off his badge and spins it on the table. ‘It should say our name down the bottom, instead of just prefect.’
‘Maybe it’s so Mr Humble can replace us if we stuff up,’ Randa mutters. ‘Or if we get scared and quit.’
I stop touching my badge. Randa’s got a point. Mr Humble must have a list of reserve prefects longer than my arm, in case we fail.
‘My parents won’t let me quit,’ Zain says. ‘We’ve only lived in Australia for two years and they worked hard to get us here.’
‘Yeah, same,’ I say. ‘My mum and dad are going to flip out when I tell them tonight.’
I can’t wait to see the look on Kayla’s face.
At recess, I walk over to the canteen for a juice. Everyone is staring at me, or maybe they’re eyeing off my badge to swipe it. I hover my hand near my chest as I make my way to the queue. A scrawny kid with a shaved head pops out in front of me.
‘I’m Naveed from 4G. Can you help me with my homework?’
‘Sorry, we don’t do that kind of stuff.’
‘So why are you a prefect then? You’re useless!’ Naveed thumps me on the shoulder like he’s trying to start up a rusty old computer.
I let out a noise that sounds like I’m in need of an overhaul. I run off, bumping into a girl who looks like she’s in Year Three. She’s clutching her shoulder.
‘Hey prefect, can you tell Henry to stop hitting me?’
‘I’m having the same problem.’
The girl blinks at me. ‘Henry’s hitting you too?’
‘No, Naveed … look, you should go tell a teacher.’
She points to my badge. ‘I thought you were one.’
‘I’m a prefect.’
‘Aren’t you like a mini teacher?’ I shake my head as she rubs her shoulder. ‘Thanks for nothing, prefect.’
I dash across the playground. A few kids look at me and their raised eyebrows are yelling, ‘How did you become a prefect?’ I don’t stay in one spot long enough to answer that question. I’m still trying to figure it out myself. I run around the corner and Gina crashes into my legs. She’s with her little crew. Trust her to run her own gang after only two weeks at school.
‘My brother is a perfect!’ she yells.
‘No, I’m a pre-fect.’
One of Gina’s friends tugs my arm. ‘Gina said you can get us free iceblocks.’
I glare at Gina. ‘That’s not true.’
Gina jumps up and down. ‘Well, can you go to the front of the line to buy us some?’
‘Prefects can’t do that …’ I say, though I wonder if Zain’s already tried it.
‘Well, can you do a handstand?’ Gina’s friend says.
‘What’s that got to do with being a prefect?’ I snap.
‘Dunno, I just like acrobats,’ he says.
I turn to Gina. ‘I’ll see you after school.’
‘Can’t you make it home time now?’ Gina yells. ‘I want to go swimming.’
I shake my head and watch them leave. I check my badge to see if it’s flashing red like a siren. I even sniff it, in case it’s letting off some kind of magic smell that attracts crazy kids.
Mini teacher. Problem solver. Leader. What is a prefect supposed to be?
Randa and I walk to the library and we meet up with Ally at the entrance. It’s always packed in summer because it’s the only place with air con at lunchtime. But once you have so many kids crammed in there, it stops becoming cool anyway. We find a quiet space in the corner and Randa opens up her notebook. She flicks through her lists. ‘I don’t know where to start, there’s so much to do.’
I tap her book. ‘Shouldn’t we all work on this together?’
Randa rolls her eyes. ‘Well, I’ve already done the list, there’s nothing else to add.’
Ally holds up her pencil case. It’s nearly as big as a rolled up sleeping bag. ‘You mean, I’ve brought these colours for nothing?’
‘We’re not colouring in anything,’ Randa says.
Ally rolls out her pencil case. ‘I don’t colour. I create.’ There are double rainbows of pencils and textas. ‘I make art, posters and I can do calligraphy.’
Zain turns up, drinking a slushee. ‘Yo, prefects!’
‘You can’t drink that in here,’ Randa snaps.
‘I’m a prefect now.’ Zain slurps loudly. ‘This is a prefect’s perk.’
‘Perk?’
‘Yeah, you know, a cool thing that only prefects can do.’ Zain winks at me. ‘The canteen lady let me go straight to the front of the line too.’
Randa sighs and rolls her eyes. ‘I thought you were a wild zebra,’ she mutters. ‘Or did a lion like Russell chase you here?’
‘Well, I’m here, so don’t complain. What have I missed?’
‘We’ve only just started,’ I say quickly, giving Randa a look. ‘We were brainstorming ways to make our school better.’
He looks over Randa’s notes. ‘How about a new soccer field? Boom!’ He snatches a pen and lunges at her notebook.
Randa tries to pull her notebook back and they have a tug of war. ‘No way, In-Zain Brain.’
‘Why not? So many kids play soccer and we want them to be safe.’ Zain lets go. ‘Poor Felix fell down at recess and scraped his knees in the dirt. Plus we need new sporting equipment. The nets are so worn that a kindy kid can climb through the holes – which they’ve been doing and making them bigger.’
‘There’s a billion things more important than soccer,’ Randa says. ‘And that’s coming from a Western Wizards supporter.’
I cough into my fist. ‘Maybe we can add it to the list.’
‘My list is already full.’ Randa guards her notebook. ‘If we want to be a better school, first we need new books, computers …’
Ally opens her mouth but nothing comes out. I can see her words dancing on her tongue but she doesn’t want to get her feet stepped on. Randa’s shut everyone down. I get that Randa wants the best for the school, but I’ve got to step in.
‘Let’s start again with a new list.’
‘What?’ Randa says.
‘Then we can all share a few of our own ideas, and pick out the best,’ I say.
‘Great idea, Raymond.’ Ally gets up to find some paper. She looks relieved just to escape the death-stare match between Randa and Zain.
‘Hey, Randa Panda,’ Zain says, turning on the charm. ‘Maybe you could ask your dad to give us some butcher’s paper for these meetings?’
‘Just because he’s a butcher, you think he’s got heaps?’ Randa says cautiously.
‘Oh yeah, I bet he’s rolling around in it!’
Randa can’t help it. She breaks into a laugh. ‘You really are In-Zain.’
I shake my head. Randa and Zain are the best of frenemies. I hope they start to get along better now they’re prefects.
Ally comes back with paper for each of us and lets us borrow her pens. Zain takes forever choosing between five shades of green. We all start scribbling our ideas.
I write down: Change the school name.
Randa peeks at my paper. ‘You for real?’
‘I’m sick of people like my cousin who call it Barrywrong,’ I say.
Ally taps her pencil. ‘What should we change it to?’
‘Barryright,’ Zain says. ‘Or FunZoneMania.’
‘Fairyjong,’ Ally adds. ‘That sounds nicer.’
Now we’re all giggling, except for Randa. Her lips are a straight line, but it’s starting to wiggle, like a worm who’s just woken up. ‘Can’t we be serious for one second?’
Zain closes his eyes. ‘Okay, there’s your second.’ He sits up. ‘Come on, if we all want to make this school fun, we need to be a bit crazy,’ he says. ‘Imagine if we got a proper field? Not just for soccer but for other sports too.’
‘Plus we need a better sound system for the school hall,’ Ally says. ‘Whenever we h
ave dance practice, the songs keep skipping over and over.’
‘We need some real goals,’ Randa says. ‘Kids need to learn more things.’
‘They also dance and play sport too,’ Ally huffs. ‘Not everyone can be as smart as you.’
Randa shuts her off by folding her arms and turning to the wall. I get up and meet her eyes.
‘Come on, Randa, we’re all on the same side,’ I say. ‘Nobody’s going to take us seriously if we keep fighting.’
Randa takes a deep breath and slowly turns around. ‘Sorry, Ally. Let’s start again.’
‘Okay,’ Ally says, shaking her hand. ‘Maybe I’m just grumpy because it’s so stuffy in here.’
‘I wish this library had better air con,’ I say.
‘Along with every classroom here,’ Randa says.
Zain writes down, New air conditioners.
‘Now that’s one thing we all agree on, go Barryjong United!’ he yells.
‘Barryjong United?’ Randa says. ‘Not soccer again?’
Zain nods. ‘It sounds better than just the prefects.’ He passes the paper over to Ally and she writes her own suggestion. One by one, we create our own wish list. I’ve already achieved more in this meeting than I ever have out on the soccer field.
‘Can I hold your perfect badge?’ Gina pleads as we walk home from school.
I check out Gina’s hands. There’s a combo of dirt, chalk and jam on her palms. ‘Maybe after you’ve washed your hands at home.’
She’ll need the whole afternoon to scrub her hands with soap before I’ll let her.
‘Is it magic?’ Gina says. ‘Does it give you special powers?’
I laugh, a bit too loudly. ‘You watch too many cartoons.’
If only this badge did have special powers, like making me tough enough to tame bullymons like Russell. A few soccer skills wouldn’t hurt either.
I leave my badge and uniform on until Mum gets home. She opens the door.
‘Hey, Ray …’ Her eyes fall onto the badge and she screams her head off. ‘You’re a legend.’ She tries to lift me up in the air, but ends up tickling my armpits instead.
Gina starts booing.
‘Stop that, Gina!’ Mum says.
‘But that’s what the kids were doing today,’ Gina says.
Natural Born Loser Page 3
