“But we won’t be practising,” I reassured her. “We’re just going to let off some steam for a bit, you know. Clear our heads so that we’re in a better frame of mind to study. What do you say?”
“Count me in!” Rosie was the first to leap to my side.
“And me,” Frankie joined us. “As long as it’s only for ten minutes.”
“Well I guess I ought to start practising again,” Lyndz admitted.
“OK then.” Fliss got up from the bed. “But we will get back down to some work afterwards, won’t we?”
“’Course,” I agreed.
We pushed the beds to the side of the room as quietly as we could. Then we all started humming Live and Let Die. That made us crack up to start with because it sounded so funny. But once we got used to it, we started putting our moves together.
Fliss looked ace doing her routine and was as light as a feather when she landed. But Lyndz sounded like an elephant when she did her backward roll, even though she did it over her sleeping bag to cushion the sound.
“Mum’s bound to have heard that!” hissed Fliss anxiously. But there was no sound of footsteps rushing upstairs, so we carried on.
The absolute best bit was when we started practising circle rolls as part of our routine all together.
“We’ll go clockwise,” Frankie suggested. But of course that didn’t mean anything to Lyndz, who starts to panic whenever you mention clocks or watches. So there we all were rolling one way – and Lyndz rolled the other. Then Rosie changed directions too and soon we were a massive tangle of arms and legs. I started laughing so much I almost wet myself. And Lyndz got the dreaded hiccups, which just made the rest of us laugh even more. Tears were streaming down our faces and I was clutching my sides. I swear I was aching so much that I never thought I’d be able to perform another gymnastic move ever again.
It was really to stretch myself out that I started to cartwheel around Fliss’s room. And when you’re upside down you kind of lose direction a bit. How was I to know that Callum, Fliss’s stupid brother, had been spying on us and had opened Fliss’s bedroom door? So there I was, cartwheeling right out of the bedroom, across the landing and whoops, right into Mrs Proudlove’s room.
The others were walking behind me chanting excitedly, “…13, 14, 15…”
When there was this almighty explosion.
I crashed to a halt – right in front of Fliss’s mum, who was red in the face and screeching, “JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”
The others all bumped into each other behind me.
“I thought we agreed that there would be no gymnastics until after the SATs!” she continued. “I just knew that you couldn’t be trusted. I should have known better than to agree to this sleepover in the first place. But what I do know is that your parents will agree with me when I tell them how you’ve abused our trust. There is no way now that you can be allowed to enter that competition.”
Fliss virtually broke down in tears there and then and the others looked devastated. I felt kind of responsible, so it was up to me to think fast and save the day.
“Actually, you’ve got it all wrong Mrs P,” I began innocently.
“I beg your pardon!” Fliss’s mum went even redder in the face and looked as though she was going to burst for sure.
“We are revising, you see. We’re looking at the way shadows are falling in front of me as I move.”
“Yes, hic, that’s what we, hic, do in science,” Lyndz picked up my thread pretty quickly. “It means that the sun’s, hic, behind her.”
“And Kenny’s not floating off into space when she cartwheels because of gravity,” Rosie added seriously. “You see, the earth pulls all things towards it because of the object’s weight.”
Fliss’s mum had calmed down, but she still didn’t look too convinced.
“And we’re using Kenny’s display for English revision too,” explained Frankie quickly. “It’s sort of English in motion. ‘Kenny’s cartwheels cause chaos’ – that’s alliteration.”
“And,” Fliss piped up, “if Kenny did fifteen cartwheels and you multiply that by five you get…”
Oh-oh. Fliss wasn’t really good at thinking on her feet. Her mother was looking at her intently.
“Seventy five,” whispered Frankie behind Fliss’s back.
“Seventy five,” Fliss announced confidently.
“Hmm,” Mrs Proudlove sniffed. “We certainly revised things differently in my day, but I suppose if it works it can only be a good thing. Just don’t let me catch you performing your ‘revision in motion’ again, all right?”
We breathed a huge sigh of relief and headed back to Fliss’s room.
“I think it might be an idea if you got ready for bed anyway,” Mrs Proudlove called after us. “You’re going to be needing as much rest as you can get over the next week.”
“Don’t remind me!” I hissed under my breath.
As soon as we were all ready for bed, we emptied our midnight feast on to the floor between us and sat up in our sleeping bags.
“I thought your mum was going to explode, Fliss,” Rosie started laughing. “Did you check out her face?”
“I told you it was a bad idea to do gymnastics,” Fliss replied huffily, but then started chuckling. “It was pretty cool the way we got out of it though, wasn’t it?”
“A Sleepover Club classic!” I agreed.
As we chatted, we steamed into the sweets we’d brought. I’d never seen them disappear so quickly. Mini Mars, ‘Tangfastics’, toffee popcorn – they were all gone before you could flick-flack from one end of the room to the other.
“Your mum certainly doesn’t believe in overfeeding us, does she Fliss?” I asked as I licked the last of the sugary bits from my fingers.
“She doesn’t want me to get overweight, that’s all,” Fliss flashed back.
“Fat chance!” I retorted, which made everybody fall about laughing.
“Do you suppose plants ever get fat?” Rosie asked sleepily.
“Nah,” Frankie replied. “They take all their nutrition through their roots, don’t they? I guess they just take what’s required to make sure the plant develops properly and grows as it should.”
“It must be pretty boring being a plant,” yawned Lyndz. “No pizzas, no sweets, just boring soil, day in, day out.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I mean, here we were on a sleepover and the others were talking about the growth system of plants!
“I’ll tell you something,” I said, snuggling down into my sleeping bag. “I’ll be really glad when these SATs are over. We’re turning into a real load of sad cases!”
By the time Monday morning came I was even more desperate for the tests to be over. As we sat in the classroom waiting for our first science paper, I felt sicker than I’d ever felt in my whole life. I really had worked hard for the SATs, I’d even surprised myself. But it was the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what kind of questions would be on the paper.
As we waited, we all gave each other the thumbs-up sign. Fliss was looking as white as a sheet and had dark rings under her eyes like she hadn’t slept at all since our sleepover. I guess stress can get to you like that.
Mrs Weaver put the test papers face down on each of our desks.
“Now we’ve been through everything you’re going to be asked, so read each question carefully before you answer. You have thirty-five minutes to complete the paper. You may begin.”
I was actually shaking as I turned the paper over, and I had to force myself to concentrate on reading through the instructions. At first all I could see was the illustration for the first question. All the words underneath seemed to swim together. But I took a couple of deep breaths and read the question slowly. It was about identifying materials, which we must have gone over about a million times in class. And once I’d settled down, the questions themselves were pretty straightforward.
Actually the test wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Some of the questio
ns were familiar and some were asked in a different way, so you really had to concentrate to work out what they were asking. The only one I struggled on was one about circuits, because you had to explain what would happen when the switch in the illustration was closed. I find it a bit difficult to write explanations like that down, but I tried my best.
I just had time to go back and check through all my answers before Mrs Weaver said, “Pens down please, your time is up.”
As soon as she’d collected in all the papers we were allowed to go outside to the playground.
“Wasn’t that just awful!” we squealed, collapsing into each other as soon as we got into the fresh air. We were mentally drained but kind of hyper as well. It was weird.
We went over the questions and asked each other what we’d put. I think we’d more or less got the same answers, apart from Fliss who by the sounds of it had done a different paper completely. She got a bit panicky actually, so we decided to give it a rest and run through a few gymnastic moves, just to calm ourselves down before the maths test in the afternoon.
It was well cool actually. I don’t know whether it was because we were all pumped up by the SATs or what, but we all performed really well, even Lyndz.
“That was brilliant, Lyndz. You really nailed that backward roll,” Frankie encouraged her.
Rosie had altered her routine and did a blinding handstand which she seemed to hold forever. Then she made a really smooth transition into a forward roll, finishing by standing tall and straight, just like a pukka Olympic gymnast. We were all amazed.
“That’s brilliant,” I gushed. “I’ve got a really good feeling about this competition now. Everything is going our way. We’re going to win it, I know we are. I can feel it in my water!”
“Urgh Kenny, you’re disgusting!” Fliss shivered.
“Well, can your water tell us what questions we’re going to get in this maths test?” Frankie demanded. “Because I reckon we should do some more revision just in case your water can’t be relied upon.”
“Ha, ha!” I retorted. “But I guess you’re right, as usual, Miss Thomas. It must make your brain hurt, being such a goody-goody all the time.”
Frankie clutched her head dramatically. “It does,” she moaned. “But I try to live with it!”
Giggling, we all ran back to the classroom to get our maths textbooks.
That gymnastics practice really helped to settle us down. So when it was time for the maths paper we were all chilled and totally prepared for it. And because it had worked for us that first day, we followed that pattern for the rest of the week. As soon as we’d finished one of our papers we ran outside and went through our gymnastics routine, then settled back to more revision. It was like a lucky talisman or something. You know, a kind of superstition, like those footballers who always do the same thing before each match because they think it helps them play better.
And do you know something? The SATs were really nothing to be scared about at all. Sure, there were some questions that were really hard, like calculating the perimeter of a star, or describing what happens when you use a forcemeter in science. But the others were just stuff we’d covered in class. The English comprehension paper was dead boring, though. I almost fell asleep in that test. They ought to have more exciting stories just to keep you interested, I reckon.
Anyway, we managed to practise our gymnastic routines every day, which we hadn’t expected at all. And our parents couldn’t accuse us of shirking our studies either, because the practices actually helped us. So by the end of the week, the SATs were all over and we had a full week ahead of us to perfect our skills for the competition.
“We’re going to play a blinder in this gymnastics competition, I just know it,” I told the others confidently. “We’re way ahead of ourselves with our routines. If we rehearse to the max next week, we’ll be international television superstars this time next month, just see if we’re not.”
Have you heard that expression about not counting your chickens before they’re hatched? Well I was about to find out just how true that can be. Like being careful when you think you’re standing on top of the world, because it just might start crumbling beneath you.
We had arranged to meet up at my place on Saturday afternoon to go through our routines, but somehow we’d conveniently forgotten to ask any of our parents if that was all right. Mum chucked a major wobbly as soon as I mentioned it.
“You know it’s Grandpa Littler’s birthday,” she huffed. “And he loves it when we all get together for a party. You’ve got a whole week to practise for your competition, Kenny. I’m sure one day of not seeing your friends won’t kill you.”
The day might not kill me, but I was sure that my friends would. But hey, shows how much I know. Because when I rang Frankie to tell her the bad news, she sounded positively relieved.
“No probs,” she assured me. “Actually, we’ve got someone coming round to discuss some decorating, and Izzy’s just not herself. I don’t know what’s up with her but she’s really grizzly. I sort of promised that I’d keep an eye on her whilst Mum and Dad arrange everything with the decorator guy, so I’m kind of glad you’ve rung up to cancel.”
Charming!
“Just you practise your routine as much as possible, OK?” I warned her.
It was the same story with both Lyndz and Rosie. Not about them having to look after Izzy, obviously. Lyndz’s grandparents were coming over from Holland for a visit, so the whole family was in a mad panic trying to get their house into some kind of order. And you remember Lyndz’s house, don’t you? It’s always in a state, so boy did they have their work cut out! And Rosie was going to Alton Towers with her dad and his new family. He’d planned it as a surprise for her after the SATs. I know that she feels as though she misses out on stuff since he left home, so I kind of felt happy for her.
“You just make sure you come back in one piece, OK?” I teased her. “No falling out of Oblivion, or else there’ll be big trouble.”
“A big mess, you mean!” Rosie joked.
Before I could even get in touch with Fliss, Mrs Proudlove was on the blower herself, panicking as usual. I heard Mum trying to calm her down and promising that Dad would pop round just as soon as he got back from surgery.
“What’s up? It’s not the twins, is it?” I asked when she’d finally got off the phone.
“No, it’s Fliss,” Mum explained. “She has a headache and is very weak and faint. I’m sure it’s nothing serious but your dad will sort her out, don’t worry.”
Sure enough, when Dad came in he said she was overtired and he’d prescribed lots of rest and no excitement for the next few days. No excitement! Didn’t he know we had an appointment with destiny to keep? I mean, the gymnastics competition was about to change our whole lives.
‘OK, OK, stay calm,” I told myself. “This is just one day. We’ve got a whole week to practise. Rosie will be back from Alton Towers, Frankie won’t have to look after Izzy, Fliss will get better… I just hope Lyndz’s family manage to tidy their house.”
But life isn’t that simple, is it? By Monday Fliss was still too ill to come to school and Rosie had been sick all weekend too.
“Mum said it was too many hot dogs and too many fast rides,” she mumbled. I had to admit that she was still looking rather green about the chops. And Frankie was looking none too clever either.
“I’m just so worried about Izzy,” she explained. “She’s been screaming constantly for two days and her temperature’s ever so high. I know Mum and Dad are really worried about her too. I think Mum’s taking her to see your dad today.”
At least Lyndz was OK.
“Anyone fancy doing some gymnastics?” I asked hopefully at breaktime.
Frankie and Rosie both shook their heads, but Lyndz and I went through a few moves. The trouble was that it wasn’t easy practising them on the grass behind the playground. For a start the grass had just been cut, so when Lyndz tried out her backward roll, she got covered in green c
uttings and looked like a mouldy Abominable Snowman! And another thing was that we didn’t want anyone finding out what we were practising for. So whenever anyone came near us, like the dreadful duo, the M&Ms – our deadly rivals Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman – we had to collapse on to the grass and pretend that we were just having a general chat about pop music and stuff.
“Phew, we can’t go through that again,” I gasped, brushing the grass from my skirt. “From now on we’ll have to practise after school at one of our houses. How about tonight?”
“Count me out,” Rosie said. “I’d puke for sure if I had to do a cartwheel.”
“And I want to get straight home to see how Izzy is,” Frankie explained.
“Well what about tomorrow then?” I tried to stay calm. “You do realise that the competition is only four days away, don’t you?”
“Erm Kenny, remember my grandparents are staying with us for a couple of days,” Lyndz told me sheepishly. “And I’ve promised that I’ll be home early for the next few evenings. Sorry.”
“I don’t believe this!” I yelled to the sky. “We’ve got this one chance to change our lives and we’re going to blow it!”
When I got home I was still really mad at the others.
“Fliss rang a few minutes ago,” Mum called out as soon as I’d walked through the door. “She sounded quite anxious, could you give her a ring?”
Phew! At least Fliss was taking this seriously. I mean, she was more desperate to get on TV than the rest of us put together. I knew that she wouldn’t let me down.
“Wassup?” I yelled when she answered the phone.
“Costumes!” she squealed. “What are we going to wear for the competition? We haven’t even thought about that yet, and it’ll be the first thing the judges notice.”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t get your frillies in a fix!” I told her. “I think what we’re going to wear is the least of our worries right now. The rate we’re going we won’t even have a routine to show off, never mind any costumes.”
I explained how the others hadn’t been much use on the gymnastics front.
Sleepover Girls Go Gymtastic! Page 5
