Screw Loose (35 page)

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Authors: Chris Wheat

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BOOK: Screw Loose
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Fraser shook his head in admiration. ‘I really like girls with gumption.'

‘I just find I have to do things for others,' she said, still staring at her hands, which suggested just the right degree of humility, she hoped.

‘You're the one!' he announced.

Just as she was about to say
One what?
and smack him lightly on the back of the hand, someone awful appeared over the horizon – Priscilla Marginson. Priscilla was the school captain of Mary Magdalene, and she was bearing down on them in a pair of cut-price jeans and an awful green T-shirt.

‘Chels, you're such an utter duper super star,' she cried. ‘Well done! I thought, oh dear, Chelsea Dean is trying to arrange a formal with other schools. It's sure to be such a catast. But no! And you look scrumptious – pink is so tomorrow. Hello, Fraser. Your kilt looks scrumptious, too. Very.' Priscilla winked at him.

School captains were often drawn to one another, and Priscilla was drawn to Fraser like a mutton bird to its burrow.

Fortune favoured the brave. Chelsea grabbed Fraser's hand. ‘Oh, these things come naturally to me,' she yelled above the noise. ‘Come on, Fraser, I need your help.' She dragged him away.

Now, in the midst of her creation, and with Fraser in tow, something wonderful bubbled within her; this was going to be the most unforgettable birthday party ever.

‘I'm just mingling and supervising,' she yelled. ‘Perhaps you can support me.'

‘Sure,' he yelled back. ‘I love supervising.'

She resisted the urge to explain that it was her party, therefore she was the supervisor – and he the assistant supervisor. He would learn through observation.

She smiled to herself as they made their way through the dancers. She could see Heath and Josh making themselves useful; they had ceased training for Circus Oz and were just finishing setting up the projector for the end-of-festivities screening of
Mysterious Girl One
. Khiem had put that together. He was shadowing her right now, recording significant moments, like, she hoped, Fraser's very significant congratulatory kiss.

They bumped into Zeynep and Angelo, who were dancing together. Zeynep was wearing an awful pinstripe suit and looked very happy.

‘Hi, Chels. I'm having soo much fun! Angelo and Tamsin and Georgia and I will be going back to my place soon to peg out my washing. Everyone's going to help me! Do I look like a guy?'

Chelsea smiled generously. She knew Fraser would be intrigued by this little gem. She had such radical friends.

‘Fraser, these are two Vistaview students. This is Zeynep Yarkan, and her boyfriend Angelo Tarano, the Cockatoo. We're very close. Zeynep's parents grounded her for five years, so she goes out dressed like a guy.'

‘Ex-Cockatoo,' Angelo said.

Fraser and Angelo shook hands in a very manly way. But Fraser was looking a little perplexed. Just how she wanted him. Some Magdalene girls were moving closer to Angelo and giggling. Chelsea knew what was going on. She needed security – and security would need pepper spray.

‘Come on.' Chelsea grabbed Fraser's hand tightly and pulled him along. She caught the eye of a federal policeman and nodded curtly in Angelo's direction. He saluted and headed off to do his duty. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Fraser taking all of this in. His presence was driving her to new heights of managerial efficiency.

Detective Inspector O'Neill had turned up too, she was pleased to see. He was chatting with his daughter. She and Penny had known one another since Year 7, when Chelsea had decorated Penny's locker door with a glitter-stick as an act of friendship, and Penny had been ordered to clean all the locker rooms in the school as a punishment. That was Mary Magdalene for you: acts of friendship rewarded with time-consuming punishments.

When she'd first rung Detective Inspector O'Neill to ask for help with security, Chelsea had reassured him that although his daughter was consorting with a known criminal, the criminal was now in a rehabilitation program – hers. Penny's father had seemed impressed. She wondered idly how he and Khiem were going to get on.

‘Hey, Chelsea.' Fraser leant closer. ‘What are those guys doing?'

She peered through her wildly dancing guests to the back of the auditorium and frowned. Heath and Joshua had disobeyed her; they were doing cartwheels again. She kept her head close to Fraser, so he could hear her, and moderated her frown. ‘Oh, Fraser, they're just a couple of gay guys. We have gay students at Vistaview; it's a very diverse community. They're trying to attract the same sex.'

He nodded. ‘We don't have gay guys at St Ethelred's,' he said confidently.

She rolled her eyes and moved on, because Joshua's brother's completely inappropriate band appeared to have finished their set. They had ended with
Eat the Rich
– not the sort of sentiment she could ever embrace. She had ignored it. Now Magdalene girls were mobbing the band members while they were trying to pack up. Joshua's brother was in a tug of war over his guitar, and the drummer was providing piggybacks. It was disgraceful. Both Magdalene and Vistaview teachers were struggling to restore order.

‘Is your DJ ready?' she asked Fraser, hoping for a smooth transition.

‘Sure thing,' he answered. ‘We've lined up all the great dance favourites: The
Time Warp, Hokey-Pokey, Bus Stop, Nutbush
. I can't wait.'

She stopped and looked up at his handsome face.
Smile, look
all bubbly and winning
. ‘Fraser,' she said sweetly, ‘those songs are now passé. I banned them.'

‘We used St Ethel's funding to buy a mobile disco,' he said simply. ‘The St Ethelred's boys have been practising dance moves all week.'

She smiled warmly again and looked into his eyes. A
mobile
disco
? This would require quite advanced negotiation skills. If he thought he was in control at this early stage in their relationship, he would be running rampant within two weeks.

‘It's my party, remember,' she giggled and squeezed his hand.

‘It's my mobile disco,' he laughed, and returned the squeeze – a little more firmly.

Nothing came easily. She had just met the most impressive boy at the formal, only to discover that he was on a power trip.

Well, he would have to learn that you couldn't always have things your own way.

A GREAT
MOMENT

C
RAIG
R
YAN HAD
been looking for Chelsea for hours. He wanted to give her some amazing news – news his old man had passed on just before Craig left for the formal. But there were so many people milling about in the auditorium, and so many of them wanted to gawk at Matilda, in the end he'd just given up.

Right now, he was leaning against a fire extinguisher watching his mad girlfriend dance. He shook his head. She was as happy as he'd ever seen her – bounding high into the air to the beat of the St Ethelred's mobile disco, her tongue flopping out and her Inspector Rex jumper bouncing up and down. But he knew what she was trying to do: attract a pack of girls to chase bikes with her.

Recently, Matilda had become a big problem at the bike racks at school. In fact, since returning from her ‘holiday' by the river, she appeared to have regressed quite a bit. He couldn't help feeling partly responsible; almost as soon as he'd left her alone with Arnold in her little hide-out, he'd felt guilty. He'd returned the following day with a big salami and tried to coax her and Arnold to come home, but she wouldn't budge. It had taken him over a week of secret visits to convince her that it was for the best.

Since then, she'd upset her Biol teacher by curling up on the floor in a patch of sunshine; pinched a cricket stump in the middle of a game and run around the oval with it in her mouth; and started regularly pulling food out of the school bins.

‘You hopeless binscab!' he'd yelled at her one recess. ‘You make me embarrassed, Matty. Supermarkets are where you get food.'

‘I'm a mangy, mongrel, mad dog!' she had boasted loudly.

‘Well, if you keep embarrassing me I'll be finding a real girl,' he'd threatened.

She had rolled on the asphalt and laughed in her croaky way. Deep down, they both knew that he was bluffing – she was a pain, but he wouldn't leave her. She was too cute. ‘Like a girl that wears thongs and pinkity tops?' she'd said. ‘You can't track prey if you wear thongs!'

Now some of the Magdalene girls were starting to imitate Matilda's dance. That was bad news.

Craig finally saw Chelsea in the middle of the room, headed his way. She was dressed to the nines, all sparkly and pink, and she was with some big St Ethelred's dude.

He smiled to himself. Things were a little bit better between him and Chelsea at the moment. When Matilda had vanished, Chelsea had seemed to feel some sympathy for him. She'd told him if Matilda ever returned they could use the pool room. To show his gratitude, he and his dad had spent an afternoon down in the garage, panelbeating the wok and the fridge door. The wok still looked pretty ordinary, but his old man had done a great job with the fridge.

Craig's smile faded as he noticed Khiem: he and his girlfriend were trailing Chelsea, filming, and Khiem's two crim mates were right behind them. Craig hated those guys. What were they doing here?

Chelsea reached Craig, towing the big lanky guy behind her. He was wearing a kilt. Total freakoid.

She pointed angrily at Matilda. ‘She's lowering the tone, Craig. Take her outside for a walk.'

A song had just ended, and Chelsea's voice had reverberated around the auditorium. Matilda was panting, very loudly. The Magdalene girls closed in around her; they were all eyeing Chelsea. Not good.

Matilda pulled a bin-liner out from under her jumper.

‘Matty, no!' Craig yelled. He stepped forward.

‘Control her, mate. She looks vicious,' the kiltman ordered.

‘I have things under control, Fraser,' Chelsea retorted. She glanced at Khiem, who held the camera. ‘Turn it off,' she ordered. ‘Get her out, Craig! See, I told you, Fraser. She's a blot on the landscape.'

Matilda growled. The TV cameras were focused on them all. The music hadn't started back up again, either, and by now the whole formal was watching the showdown.

Chelsea may be a pain, but he had to protect her – the Magdalene girls were closing in like a pack of wolves. There was only one way of dealing with this.

He grabbed the fire extinguisher.

‘Back off!' he yelled at the girls. ‘Matty, get out of the way!' He took aim. This was the sort of thing that got you instantly expelled.

Matilda was shaking out the bin-liner, undeterred.

‘Matty, don't do this! I know she's just a stuck-up poodle, but she's not worth getting wet over.'

‘What?' Chelsea shrieked. ‘Fraser. Did you hear that? Fraser, remove her!'

The big dude started moving in on Matilda.

‘You back off too, mate!' Craig warned, pointing the hose at the Ethel. ‘Unless you want a squirt up your kilt!'

That stopped him.

All eyes were focused on Matilda when Khiem suddenly hit the deck at Chelsea's feet, jumped by his crim mates! Penny screamed. Chelsea gasped in fright. At first it looked like some kind of joke – but Khiem was hurt.

Craig looked from Matilda's pack to the crims. What to do?
Spray them all!
He took aim and fired.

Khiem's attackers reeled back under a stream of foam. Chelsea and the kilt guy got caught in friendly fire, and Chelsea went down screaming.

The guys were still after Khiem. He was having trouble getting up; they'd smashed him hard.

‘Watch out, Matty!' Craig yelled as he foamed the Magdalene girls. They retreated in a shrieking pack of bouncing ponytails, sliding into one another and dragging Matilda with them. She was laughing and jumping into the air – and was foam-free, thanks to his almost perfect aim.

Then Craig swivelled to face Khiem's attackers again – just as Joshua Yeatman cartwheeled into them and they both went down.

‘Security!' Chelsea spluttered, her arms spinning and her body shimmying as she tried to get rid of the foam. ‘Detective Inspector O'Neill, Mr Dunn. Assault! Duty of care, Mr Dunn!

The Magdalene girls were slinking away. There was foam all over the floor. A cop had turned up – Penny's old man, judging by the way he hugged her. Khiem had said he was a copper.

The cop took a moment to help Khiem to his feet. Khiem said something, and the cop patted him on the back. Then he grabbed the punks by their necks, and he and some security guys marched them away.

Around Craig, a few remaining Magdalene girls were yelling abuse and shaking the foam off their clothes. The music started back up.

He was stuffed now. You got major fines for fooling around with fire extinguishers. Penny's dad would be back.

‘And he lives with you?' he heard the Ethel ask Chelsea.

‘Not for long,' she snapped as she brushed her dress off.

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