Dare Game (11 page)

‘You won’t get a chance, matey,’ I said, putting my own fists up. I gave him one little gentle punch. Then another. He didn’t react, apart from blinking rapidly.

‘Come on! Try to hit me back.’

Alexander lunged at me feebly. His fist could have been cotton wool.

‘Harder!’

He had one more go. I stepped sideways and he punched thin air, stumbled, and very nearly fell over.

‘Oh well. I see what you mean,’ I said,
realizing
he was a totally hopeless case.

‘I’m useless,’ said Alexander, drooping all over.

‘Only at fighting,’ I said. I pondered. I looked at his funny little feet in their highly polished Clarks lace-ups. It didn’t look like he’d be much of a kicker. His tiny teeth only seemed capable of a hamster nibble, not a vicious vampire bite. Other tactics might be required. I tried to think what I did those rare times when I was up against some huge gorilla guy who could jump up and down all over me. Easy. I got lippy (and then ran).

‘See this,’ I said to Alexander, and I stuck out my tongue. It is a very long pink tongue and I can waggle it till I almost touch my ears. Alexander backed away nervously. I replaced my tongue with pride. ‘It’s more cutting than the sharpest knife.’

Alexander nodded in agreement. I wondered if he got what I meant.

‘You want to say something really cutting to those boys at your school.’

‘Oh
sure
,’ said Alexander. I detected a surprising spot of sarcasm. ‘Then they’d beat me up even more.’

Maybe he had a point.

‘So why don’t you say something to make them laugh? Like when you’re in the showers?’

‘They laugh at me already.’

‘Make them laugh
more
.’ I thought hard, trying to imagine myself into the situation. I got the giggles. ‘I know!’ I snorted. ‘You tell them they might all have zonking great cucumbers but you’re very happy with your own little gherkin.’

Alexander blinked at me. ‘I can’t say that!’

‘Yes you can.’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

‘Yes you would.
I
dare you. There. Now you’ve got to say it. If you want to be my friend.’

Alexander looked puzzled. ‘Are we friends?’

The cheek of it!

‘Don’t you want to be friends?’ I demanded.

Alexander nodded. Wisely.

‘Right. So we’re friends. And we’ll meet up again tomorrow?’ I said.

Same time. Same place. He’d better be there. I hope he organizes some more refreshments.

Football’s Home

IT WAS A
little bit dodgy getting away. Cam came over all stroppy about school and the fact that I’ve been bunking off. Not that I
told
her. I’m not into that True Confession lark. But the head phoned her up to tell her little Tracy was conspicuously absent and Cam got seriously fussed.

She started giving me a l-o-n-g lecture and I just happened to give the teeniest little yawn. Cam caught hold of me by the shoulders so I had to look at her. ‘Tracy, this is serious.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘I mean it.’ Her silly short hair was sticking up all over the place. I can’t see why she can’t grow her hair into a decent style. She’d look so much better if she wore make-up too. I don’t know why she doesn’t want to make
herself
look pretty. Like my mum.

I didn’t really want to look at her. I blinked so that my eyes went blurry and I just mumbled ‘Mmm.’ Then I wriggled. ‘You’re digging into my shoulders, Cam.’

She looked like she really wanted to dig straight through my skin but she just nodded and let me go. ‘It
is
serious, Trace. You keep on and you’ll be excluded.’

‘Wow! Really?’

That Football guy is excluded. It only happens to the really tough nuts. I rather fancy being the Toughest Nutter of all.

‘Don’t sound so hopeful!’

‘It’s mad – you bunk off school because you hate it and they get narked and threaten you with this huge punishment, No School At All, which is
precisely
what you want most in the world!’

‘You don’t really
hate
school, do you?’

‘Oh per-lease!’

‘I know you don’t get on very well with Mrs Bagley.’

‘Understatement of the century!’

‘But you won’t be stuck in her class for ever. You’re bright; if you’d only give it a chance you could do really well, pass all your exams—’

‘I don’t need to pass exams to be an actress.’

‘I thought you wanted to be a writer.’

‘I’ve changed my mind. I’d much sooner be an actress.’

‘Like your mum?’

‘Yep.’

I went off into a little dream, thinking about Mum and how it was going to be. Maybe I could get into acting straight away and we could be in films together, a real mother and daughter act: Mum could play my mum – not as a Mumsie type, naturally, more sexy and sassy – and I could be this cute kid with a sharp line in wisecracks. I could just see it.

‘Tracy –’ Cam’s voice interfered with my imaginary reception. ‘I know you love your mum very much. It’s great you’ve been able to see her again. But maybe – maybe it might be better not to pin all your hopes on your mum.’

I knew what she was getting at. I didn’t want to listen. I’ve got so many hopes pinned on my mum she’s like a human pin-cushion.

It’s going to be all right. We’re going to be OK, Mum and me. We are we are we are. I’m going to stay with her next weekend and I can’t
wait
.

Do you know something? Cam still doesn’t seem to mind a bit. ‘If it’s what you want, Tracy,’ she said.

‘Of course it’s what I want. But what do
you
want?’

‘What I want is for you to stop playing truant. I want you to promise you won’t bunk off school tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. Ever again. Promise, Tracy.’

I promised. With my fingers crossed behind my back. It doesn’t matter. Cam doesn’t keep promises herself. I mean, she was all set for it to be me and her together for ever. And yet now my mum’s come back on the scene Cam acts like she can’t wait to be rid of me. Well, see if I care.