Cool School (8 page)

o,' you say firmly.

‘Oh, what a rip off,' the kid says, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet on the desk in front of him. ‘You're a jerk.'

‘Give him a detention,' a girl sitting by the window yells out.

Suddenly you realise the power you now have. Yes! You can give detentions!

You can keep people in, kick people out, give them essays to write. You can confiscate a whole pile of good stuff: chewing gum, comics, basketball cards, Walkmans. This is the big time!

‘OK,' you say to the boy with his feet on the desk. ‘You've got an hour's detention tomorrow after school.'

‘Stuff that,' he says. ‘I'm not going.'

‘Don't be rude,' you say. ‘If you're not careful I'll double it.'

‘Double it then,' he says, ‘I still don't give a stuff.'

‘OK,' you say, getting angry. ‘You've got an hour for the next two days now.'

‘No way,' he says. ‘You can shove you head down a dunny.'

‘Right, that's four hours,' you yell.

‘Go suck on superglue.'

‘It's doubled again!'

‘You sound like a parrot farting.'

‘Doubled! And redoubled,' you scream.

‘Is that all you can say? I've heard more sense out of a garden gnome.'

‘Doubled! Doubled! Doubled!'

‘Er, that's 256 hours,' a student in the back row says. She's got a calculator and is reading figures off its screen. You realise you might have gone a bit too far.

‘OK,' you say to the kid. ‘I'll let you off this time. But don't let it happen again.'

‘I'm leaving,' he says. ‘This is a waste of time.'

‘Wait!' you say. ‘Stop! I've got something special for you.'

‘What?' he says pausing.

You think desperately. There has got to be something you can do! He's edging towards the door. You say lamely: ‘I've got a surprise for you.'

he guy comes into the room, crashing the door back so hard it hits the wall. He stalks towards you, his red eyes gleaming. You make the sign of the cross but that doesn't stop him, doesn't even slow him down. You back away as he advances fast on you. When you hit the wall you realise you'll have to do something drastic. So you shout out:

‘Stop! I've got German measles!'

To your astonishment the guy hesitates. You quickly point out a few scattered pimples and freckles on your face.

‘See!' you say, with as much confidence as you can muster. ‘Spots!'

Now he's definitely rattled. He takes a small step backwards. You exhale as hard as you can, straight at him. He goes back three steps, in a hurry. But then a crafty look comes over his face.

‘I've already had German measles,' he says.

‘But these are North German measles,' you say wildly. ‘From Schitzenhaven, a small town near the north coast. Very rare and highly contagious. If you get these . . . well, the effects are terrible. For one thing you become allergic to junk food.'

Now you've definitely shaken him. He's back at the door, looking to right and left, choosing an escape route. The class is watching avidly.

‘Don't get sucked in,' some idiot calls out. ‘That turkey hasn't got measles at all.'

The bully looks at you suspiciously. He's trying to decide, do you or don't you?

ou've got about three seconds to get rid of this guy. One second as he opens the door. One second as he comes through it. And one more second as he comes towards you, flexing his fingers and snorting through his nostrils. And it's in that third second that you try a desperate tactic. You go into your best kung-fu pose, standing on one leg, with the other leg sticking out straight in front of you.

‘Stop right where you are!' you cry dramatically. ‘Stop, or I'll have to hurt you!'

he teacher takes the note from your unwilling hand and slowly reads it. Your face is burning so hotly you're afraid you'll get skin cancer. Where's the fifteen plus?

With a nasty smile, Ms Janzen turns to face the class. ‘Looks like we've got a pair of love-birds in here,' she coos. ‘My, you're quick workers, aren't you? First day and you're into it already. Seems like schoolwork isn't going to be a big priority with you two.'

‘Read it out!' some jerk yells.

‘We don't want to spoil a romance, do we?' the teacher says. ‘But on the other hand it is a good piece of creative writing.' And then suddenly making up her mind she reads it! With all the expression she can muster. Then she says to you: ‘I'd appreciate it if you saved your love affairs for out-of-school time.'

You slink back to your seat like a criminal. ‘But why should you feel like a criminal,' you ask yourself. You haven't done anything wrong.

Sam won't even look at you, which makes it worse.

At recess you finally get to talk. ‘I'm sorry,' you say. ‘But she didn't give me any choice. Mean old cane toad.'

‘Yeah,' Sam agrees. ‘Everyone says she's the worst teacher in the school. How would she like it if we read her mail?'

That gives you an idea. A frightening and exciting idea. You sit up straighter.

‘Hey listen,' you say, ‘I know what we can do!'

As you explain your scheme, a look of horror comes over Sam's face.

‘Gee, I don't know about that . . . do you really think we should?'

our mother always keeps telling you that you should think before you act. Maybe she's right. But this time you don't think at all. You stuff the paper into your mouth and start chewing. Big mistake!

Ms Janzen goes berserk. She tries to pull the note back out of your mouth, but it's all covered with spit and stuff so she has to let it go. You chew and chew while Ms Janzen keeps yelling, but you don't even hear what she's saying. You're too busy trying to digest this horrible lump of paper.

Next thing you know you're in the Principal's office, with Ms Janzen holding your collar. Ms Janzen tells her side of the story, in a voice so loud that it rattles the windows. The Principal asks if you have anything to say. You try to speak, but your mouth is too clogged up with paper and spit, so you just shake your head. Then the Principal and Ms Janzen take it in turns to yell at you: it's like stereo shouters. You wonder if they're sisters.

It seems to last for half an hour, but eventually there's a silence and you realise they've finished. You stagger out into the corridor and lean against the wall with your eyes closed. With one big swallow you get rid of the last of the paper and open your eyes.

And to your surprise Sam is standing there. You're not sure what'll happen but there's a strange look in Sam's eyes.

‘Er, what is it?' you ask.

‘You're a hero,' Sam says.

You close your eyes again as Sam's lips come towards yours. At the first touch of those warm lips on yours you realise you've just discovered perfect happiness. Life is never going to get any better than this!