Cool School (2 page)

ou throw the door open. It's a bathroom all right: even though the frosted glass in the door is broken, there's no mistaking the aroma.

You rush through. You're standing in the middle of a long smelly bathroom. There are at least a dozen students already there.

They're talking, laughing, telling each other what they did in the holidays. A cloud of blue cigarette smoke is rising from several of the cubicles. But suddenly the students see you. There's a huge silence.

A huge huge huge huge huge silence. You know why. You're in the wrong bathroom. With the glass broken on the door there was no little drawing of a man or woman to tell you which was the right one. You go bright red. You stand there in shock. This is the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you. It's a make it or break it moment.

What are you going to do?

n panic you chuck a sharp turn and crash through the door on your right. The moving mountain doesn't follow you, and for a moment you just stand there, panting hard, hoping you've escaped. Then you look up. You're in a big room with white walls and lots of windows. There's a pool table, a dartboard and about a hectare of bulletin boards. But you hardly notice any of that. What you do notice is the thirty or forty teachers standing there looking at you.

Yes, it's the staff room.

There's not a sound, not a movement. Everyone's just watching you in disbelief. It's obviously the first time in the history of the school that a student's gatecrashed the staff room. You feel your mouth start to open, and it keeps opening. Your chin drops further and further.

Now your mouth's so wide open they could fill it with pool balls and you wouldn't even notice. You're trying to think of words to say but they can't get past your tonsils. Then a woman teacher takes a step forward.

‘What on earth do you mean by charging in here like that?' she demands.

‘Gulp,' you say. Then you blurt out the first thing that comes along.

our nerve cracks. You open your mouth but no voice comes out. You turn, wildly. As they advance on you, you rush to the nearest cubicle.

You run into it and slam the door, locking it. The students are beating on the door, yelling and screaming. You sit on the loo to get your breath back. This is a nightmare. How could things go so wrong so quickly? These kids are about to lynch you. But luckily, the door's too low for them to get under and too high for them to get over.

You're safe for a couple of minutes.

Gradually the noise dies down. You can hear them though. They're trying to work out how to get you out of the cubicle. They've got no hope. You'll sit there for a week if you have to.

Suddenly a bell rings. There's a stampede outside. You hear one last set of footsteps, then complete silence. You begin to relax a little, get your breath back. You decide you'll wait ten minutes before you come out, just to be on the safe side.

To pass the time you look around at the walls of the cubicle. The graffiti is very interesting. You always wondered what kind of things they wrote on their toilet walls. Now you know. Some of the comments are very rude. On the back of the door you see one that looks fresh. It might have been done that morning even. You read it and sit back in shock. That's your own name! You can hardly believe it! But it's there all right. In the middle of a big heart, drawn in blue texta.

It says ‘Sam J. loves . . .' And it's your name that follows.

Amazing! You're so amazed you break out in a sweat and have to tear off a sheet of loo paper to wipe your face. This school sure is full of surprises. You think hard, really hard. Who do you know with the name Sam J.? There were two kids called Sam at your old school who are also at your new school: Sam Jensen and Sam Jarre. Sam Jensen is great looking but has the reputation of being a bit of a snob. Sam Jarre has a more interesting face but seems a bit weird sometimes. Which one could it be?

ou clear your throat and pull a piece of paper out of your pocket.

‘Right, I want your complete attention,' you announce. ‘I've been sent here by the Principal to take the details of any students smoking in these toilets. So, those of you indulging in this disgusting pastime kindly line up at once and give me your names.'

Within three seconds the bathroom is cleared. Panic-stricken students have fled, leaving you standing there alone. You smile to yourself and put your pen and paper away, then walk out into the corridor. You turn left and stroll along, congratulating yourself on a skilful escape from a situation that could have been embarrassing. But you've forgotten one thing: the Incredible Hulk who chased you into the bathroom in the first place. Suddenly darkness falls across the corridor. You get a shock. Has there been an eclipse of the sun? Has there been an electrical black-out? You look up. And there is the Hulk again, standing twenty metres in front of you, arms folded. He looks like a tow truck that's lost its wheels. You stop dead in your tracks. For a full minute the two of you stare at each other. Then he unfolds his arms and takes a step forwards. His arms are reaching for your throat when you hear a noise behind you. Who's there? You look around.

'm looking for my aunt,' you say.

‘And who's your aunt?' the woman asks, suspiciously.

‘She's the Principal,' you say helplessly.

Immediately the woman's whole attitude changes.

‘Oh! Well isn't that nice? I believe Mrs Riollo did say something about a relative. Well, it's very nice for you to have your aunt here.'

‘Um, yes,' you say.

‘Come and sit down dear,' the woman says. ‘Let me get you a glass of cordial and a biscuit.' She leads you past a group of teachers, one of whom mutters something at her. It sounds remarkably like ‘brownnoser'. But the woman takes no notice, so you don't either.

You sit there for a couple of minutes drinking your lime cordial and eating an Iced Vo-Vo. You're waiting for a chance to get out of the room. But before you can make your move the door opens and two women walk in. One's tall and tough: she wears glasses, shoulder pads, and has a hairstyle that looks like the top of a Scotch thistle. The other's older, grey-haired, carries a tabby cat in one hand, a ball of knitting in the other, and wears an old fawn cardigan with a little teddy bear in her buttonhole.

The lady who gave you the Iced Vo-Vo stands up. ‘Here you are dear,' she says, ‘here's your Aunt Crystal.'

You stand up, too, and look at them both in dismay. Which one is meant to be your aunt?