Dance-off! (5 page)

“You’ve got a point,” said Frankie, chewing the end of her purple pen thoughtfully. “But the problem is, ballet’s really complicated. And none of us knows how to do it. Just think of those steps Lorna and Sean did at the demonstration.”

“If we want to win,” said Fliss, “we have to give ourselves the best chance. And anyway, I go to ballet lessons. I could be the swan queen at the front and you lot could be my corps de ballet.”

“Corr de what?” asked Kenny.

“The ones who stand at the back,” explained Fliss.

Kenny grinned. “Ahhh,
now
I see why you want to do a ballet. You want to be the star!”

“No!” Fliss said, turning pink. “I’m just trying to think up a good plan, that’s all.”

“We need to choose something we can all do really well,” I said. I had a big bottle of cola between my knees and I was opening it really slowly –
fzzzzzzz
– so it wouldn’t spurt everywhere like the Goblin’s soda. “Let’s face it, we’re competing against the M&Ms, not Lorna and Sean. And the M&Ms are hardly going to be putting on
Swan Lake
, are they?”

“Rosie’s right,” said Lyndz. “Sorry, Fliss, but I think ballet’s out.”

“OK,” said Fliss brightly. I was surprised she wasn’t huffy, considering we’d all just shouted down her idea. Then straight away she said, “How about I be Gwen Stefani, and you four can be my backing dancers?”

“Nooooo!” the rest of us squealed together.

“But a pop routine’s a really good idea,” said Frankie.

“What’s wrong with Gwen Stefani?” asked Fliss.

“Nothing,” said Lyndz patiently, “but it’d be better if we were all equal, like in the Sugababes or Girls Aloud. Don’t you think?”

“Hey, Sugababes!” I said. “We could be Sleepoverbabes!”

“That’s absolutely brilliant!” grinned Frankie, writing it down. “We’ve got a name, then. That’s a good start.”

“I tell you what we should definitely have,” said Kenny. “Those cool microphone headsets they wear – you know, the ones that wrap round your head, with a tiny microphone sticking out by your mouth.”

“Oh, ace, Kenny,” said Frankie, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going rob a bank to pay for them, or has your mum just won the lottery?”

“Ha,
ha
,” said Kenny. “I didn’t mean real ones. We could make fake ones – out of wire or something. It would look so wicked!”

“It would, too!” said Lyndz. “What could we use? Coathanger wire or something?”

“Wait a sec.” Kenny bounded over to the wardrobe. She pulled out one of Molly’s dresses, slipped it off its hanger and chucked the dress back in the cupboard. Then she took the
coathanger and tried to bend it over her head by pulling the two ends down. “Nnnnrrrgh!” Her face screwed up with the effort. “Ooof! It doesn’t half hurt!”

“Hmm, I think the wire’s too thick,” said Lyndz.

“And the ends are too sharp,” said Fliss. “It’d be dangerous. We could cut our mouths or something.”

“That’s a shame,” said Frankie. “It
was
a cool idea, Kenny.”

“How about garden wire?” I said. “You know – that stuff people use when they want a plant to grow up a cane. It’s quite thin, and it’s covered in plastic, which might make it less scratchy.”

“Perfect!” exclaimed Kenny. “I’ll go and ask Mum if we’ve got any.”

She dashed off, and was back a few minutes later with a whole roll of green-coloured wire. Unlike the coathanger, it was really easy to bend, and you could twist several pieces together if you wanted a thicker strip.

After a few false starts, Frankie was the first to make a really good headband, with a little arm attached that curved down to her mouth.

“You need a blob at the end for the microphone,” I said.

“How about glueing on a Smartie?” suggested Lyndz.

“I’d spend my whole time trying to eat it,” said Frankie, sticking out her tongue as if there was a Smartie just out of reach.

It took us the whole evening making headsets for everyone, but it was worth it. They looked amazing. None of us wanted to take them off, even when we’d changed into our pyjamas and were snuggled inside our sleeping bags.

“Ground control to Major Rosie,” said Lyndz.

“Roger, ground control,” I replied.

“This is Houston…” intoned Kenny. “Astronaut Frankie, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear!” said Frankie. “Guys, we
are so cool! The M&Ms won’t have a hope against us!”

I was sure she was right. Little did we know, though, that the M&Ms were cooking up some major plans of their own. But we would soon find out.

On Monday morning Kenny was the last of the Sleepover Club to arrive at school. As soon as she got through the gate the rest of us leapt on her.

“Ace sleepover, Kenny!” yelled Frankie.

“Taken your headset off yet?” giggled Lyndz.

The best thing had been catching sight of Kenny on Saturday morning. She’d fallen asleep with her headset on, and when she woke up it was squashed into a weird shape,
and she had a bright red stripe on her cheek where she’d been lying on the wire.

Now Kenny growled in mock annoyance and launched herself on to Lyndz’s back. “Right, Collins!” she bawled. “Horseback punishment! Giddy-up, there!”

“The only thing is…” shouted Fliss, above the noise of Lyndz whinnying and galloping round, and Kenny bawling out the Lone Ranger theme tune, “the thing is… we still haven’t got anywhere with the actual routine.”

“Shhh! Keep it down!” hissed Frankie, twitching her head in the direction of the playground railings, where the M&Ms were standing with Alana Palmer. From the way they were all waving their arms about, it looked like they were talking about the competition too.

“I thought of that,” said Kenny, jumping down from Lyndz’s back. “And here’s what we do. It’s a two-pronged attack. One: keep our eyes and ears and everything else peeled for any sign –
anything
– that gives us a clue what
those two snotty saddos are planning. And two: we hold an emergency meeting at break, round by the bins.”

“Top plan, Captain Kenny!” said Frankie and we all did high fives.

At break time Lyndz and I went to the loos. As we were hurriedly washing our hands, not wanting to be late for our emergency meeting, we heard voices coming from behind two of the cubicle doors.

“It’s just going to make our routine so special,” said a gruff voice. “No one will even think of doing the same as us.”

I nudged Lyndz. She mouthed “The Goblin?”, and I nodded and pressed a finger to my lips.

“Of course not,” came the other voice, which belonged to the Queen, sounding really snooty as usual. “We’re leagues ahead of everyone else anyway. There won’t
be
any competition!”

The next moment we heard the sound of
flushing and, quick as a flash, Lyndz and I bolted out of the toilets. We didn’t want the M&Ms coming out and finding that we’d been eavesdropping.

“What d’you reckon it is, this thing that’s going to make their routine so special?” I said, as we dashed round the gym block and headed towards the giant school bins.

Suddenly Lyndz stopped dead in her tracks. I had to run back to her to see what was the matter.

“You know what?” she said, clutching at my sleeve and looking really alarmed. “It sounds like they’ve got some sort of secret weapon!”

“Secret weapon???”

We’d blurted it out as soon as we’d got to the bins, and now Frankie, Kenny and Fliss were looking at us like we’d just told them the world was going to end in five minutes. Lyndz and I were both panting from having run so fast, but the others were breathing through their
mouths too, because the bins smelt so disgusting. Meeting by the bins wasn’t half pongy, but it was brilliant when you wanted to keep something secret, as no one usually liked to hang around there.

“But it’s a dance competition not, like, a fight or anything!” said Fliss.

“Durr! They don’t mean a
weapon
weapon,” said Frankie impatiently. “It must be some mega-amazing idea for their routine.”

“We’re doomed!” said Lyndz.

“Don’t be so wet,” growled Kenny. “We haven’t even started yet. Come on, guys. Don’t let them rattle us.”

“We need to arrange a proper rehearsal,” said Fliss, “so we can make up our routine. Break time isn’t enough.”

“OK, so what about this weekend?” suggested Kenny. “Saturday, for instance? We could spend the whole day on it.”

“Mmm.” I frowned. “I’ve got to go to Safeway’s with my mum in the morning. I can’t
get out of it. She needs a hand, especially since Adam’s decided to come with us this week.”

“And I’ll be at the stables in the morning,” said Lyndz.

“The afternoon, then?” said Frankie. “We need somewhere with lots of space. It’s a shame it’s too cold to rehearse outside.”

“Don’t even think about it,” said Fliss, shivering and hopping about from one foot to the other. I think Fliss must be more delicate than the rest of us. She really suffers, having to be outside at break time in the winter.

“How are you going to manage on holiday, Fliss, being out on the ski slopes all day?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” said Fliss confidently. “On Saturday my mum bought me some
gorgeous
pink salopets.”

“What are salo—… salo—… whatever you said?” spluttered Kenny.

“It’s this dead cool jumpsuit that’s padded, kind of like a sleeping bag,” said Fliss.

Kenny pulled a face. “Sounds
sooo
elegant – not!”

“They are, too!” Fliss insisted.

Suddenly the bell went.

“OK, guys!” said Lyndz quickly, holding up her hands like a referee. “Decision time. This rehearsal. How about we have it at my house on Saturday afternoon? I’ll need to ask permission, but I don’t suppose Mum and Dad’ll mind. We could use the sitting room. It’s pretty big when you push all the furniture back.”

“That’d be perfect,” said Frankie, writing it down.

A few moments later, when we were lining up, ready to troop back into the classroom, I whispered to Lyndz, “I still wish we knew what the M&Ms were up to. I wish we could read their minds.”

Lyndz nodded. Then she said, “Hey, maybe we could! If we all sat round a table and concentrated really hard, and held hands and things…”

“Yeuch!” whispered Frankie. “Can you imagine all the rubbish that’s swilling round in those two saddos’ skulls? Wading through
that stuff would be like going through those stinky bins with our bare hands.”

Lyndz and I giggled. “Gross!”

Have you ever been to Lyndz’s house? It’s a crazy place! Lyndz’s dad is doing it up. He’s even moving whole rooms and staircases and things. Only, he’s been doing it up ever since I’ve been friends with Lyndz, and he never seems nearer to finishing. Whenever I go round to Lyndz’s house, I expect the unexpected. I don’t think I’d be surprised to see the front door half way up the wall!

It was an ace venue for our Sleepoverbabes rehearsal, though, because I knew we’d be able to leap about and Lyndz’s mum and dad wouldn’t mind. There’s always so much building grunge in the house that there’s no way they can be precious and tell you to sit still in case you mess the place up.

When I got there, Lyndz had already lugged the sitting-room furniture to the edges of the
room, with the help of her older brothers, Stuart and Tom.

“They’re not going to stay and watch, are they?” I hissed to Lyndz. I knew I’d feel really shy, rehearsing in front of them.

“No way!” Lyndz hissed back. “A complete Brother Ban will be in force this afternoon.”

Which was a good job, since Lyndz doesn’t have just those two older brothers – she has two younger ones as well!

A few minutes later Fliss made a grand entrance waving a dvd. “Guess what?” she said. “Girls Aloud were on TV this morning and they did a seriously awesome routine. I recorded it.”

“Why don’t we start off watching that, then?” suggested Lyndz. “To see if we can get some ideas.”

Fliss was right, the routine was awesome. But it was one thing to watch it and go “Wow!”, and quite another to work out exactly how to do the steps. It took us ages just to get two or three. We used the pause button so many times, Lyndz
was worried that the dvd player would explode!