Read Sleepover Club 2000 Online
Authors: Angie Bates
Sleepover Club 2000
Have you been invited to all these sleepovers?
Oops – sorry! Didn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t see you coming round the corner.
These snowflakes glue themselves to your eyelashes. They make everything look dead blurred. Also, don’t laugh, but I was kind of pretending I was looking through a veil. You know, a snowy white bride’s veil?
Frankie says I’ve got weddings on the brain, since Mum and Andy announced their engagement. “That’s a joke,” I told her. “Coming from Miss Frankie ‘I’ve-got-a-new-baby-sister’ Thomas!”
It’s true. Ever since her baby sister was born, Frankie hasn’t stopped rabbiting on about her. Mind you, she
is
the cutest thing. Frankie says she coos in her crib just like a sweet little pigeon!
Look, I’m just on my way to meet Frankie and the others in the school playground. Yes, I
do
know it’s Sunday! It’s for a really special occasion. And I can’t wait to tell you all about it.
Why don’t you come with me? That way I can update you on our latest, most radical sleepover yet: Sleepover 2000. (I can’t believe I’m saying that, can you?!)
Seriously, I’m quite chilled about the millennium now. But for the first few days, I was truly spooked. I just couldn’t picture myself actually living in the year 2000. I mean, that’s practically the FUTURE!
Don’t tell the others, OK, but when I went to bed on New Year’s Eve, I was seriously scared I’d wake up and see alien spaceships buzzing over the rooftops.
But next morning, when I looked out of my window, there was good old Cuddington, looking disappointingly average! And gradually my millennium worries died down.
At least, they did until I found out where Sleepover 2000 was going to be held. That’s right. MY house!
I couldn’t
believe
my bad luck. I mean, the first sleepover of the new millennium has got to be truly
awesome.
Everyone’s going to remember it for ever and ever. And that’s a mega responsibility for anyone, right?
Only with a mum like mine, it’s more of a mega
impossibility.
Don’t get me wrong. Mum’s the best. But when she was little, she didn’t really have that many friends. So every time my mates come round, she goes right over the top trying to make them feel at home. She tries so hard, it gets me all churned up inside.
Plus, a nice home means a lot to Mum. So she’s always in a flap in case someone spills their Coke or drops crumbs or whatever.
Unfortunately, at New Year, Mum went just a teeny bit too far. What with the party and her engagement and everything, she was totally stressed out. Then Frankie’s mum went into labour, right in the middle of MY mum’s party!!! The thought of someone having a baby on her nice new carpet practically sent Mum into orbit.
So you can imagine how I felt about hosting the most important sleepover in history, with Mum fluffing around us the whole time.
I worked myself into a major froth. What made it worse was that there was no-one I could talk to. I couldn’t tell the others. They think my mum’s a headcase as it is. And I
definitely
couldn’t tell Mum.
Then Andy, my soon-to-be-proper step-dad, found me having a cry on the stairs. I told him I didn’t feel well. “I think I’m going down with this, like, evil millennium bug everyone’s been on about,” I sniffled.
But Andy is such a star. After he finally winkled the truth out of me, he totally put my mind at rest. “I’ll have a tactful word. Don’t give it a second thought, princess,” he promised. “Sleepover 2000 is sorted, OK!” And he gave me a huge clean tissue, so I could give my nose a proper blow.
Mind you, when the Big Day came, it looked like old Andy had let me down. Because—
Oops! There I go again, rushing ahead of myself. I’m such a butterfly. I almost left out the most important part of the story. Which is what happened on our first day back at school.
Have you noticed how bad things mostly happen when you’re in a great mood? I mean, not only had I finally got over my sleepover jitters, but I was feeling really bubbly and excited. All five of us were.
And then Mrs Weaver had to go and put a total hex on our plans!!!
I know this sounds sad, but I was really relieved when it was time to go back to school. After our decorations come down, the Christmas holidays always seem to run out of steam. Mum and I end up watching daft TV programmes about what to do with those unwanted gifts.
Actually, we could have used some tips on
wanted
gifts. Andy was driving us up the wall with the fancy new digital camcorder Mum got him. Mum complained that she couldn’t sneeze without him recording it on tape! So with one thing and another, I was quite looking forward to getting back to normal school routine.
You’ll never guess what Frankie was talking about when I walked into the classroom. Oh, you guessed!! It turned out her new baby sister still didn’t have a name.
“Isn’t that really bad luck?” I said.
Frankie scowled. “Not nearly such bad luck as those gross names Mum keeps coming up with. I mean,
Angelica
! Perlease!”
“Is your mum a
Rugrats
fan?” giggled Lyndz.
“Well, that’s nothing,” said Frankie dramatically. “Wait till you hear Dad’s top favourite.” She mimed being sick. “EMILY!” she choked.
The five of us went into a collective shudder. Actually, Emily is a really sweet name. Unfortunately, it’s also the name of one of the Sleepover Club’s biggest enemies, Emily Berryman.
She and Emma Hughes go around in this, like,
deadly
duo. For obvious reasons, we call them the M&Ms. They’re always plotting against us.
Just then we had to go into assembly. Every time I looked up, there were the M&Ms, sneaking poisonous little glances at us. They looked exactly like those Siamese cats in
The Lady and the Tramp
!
But after a while I forgot about them. Because 1) Ryan Scott flashed me this really cute smile!! Honestly, he is
such
a dish – and 2) Believe it or not, assembly got really interesting!!!
Mrs Poole had found an old photograph someone had taken of Cuddington villagers at the beginning of the nineteenth century. She’d had a poster-sized blow-up made of it, to show everyone.
Well, OK, if it’s not your village, it probably isn’t that exciting. But there was something dead touching about seeing all those long-ago villagers in some long-ago Leicestershire meadow. I think the photographer must have interrupted them in the middle of a picnic.
You could just make out one of those really old-fashioned jugs, which Mrs Poole said probably held local cider. You could also see part of a checked tablecloth, half a loaf of bread, and a lump of pork pie.
The photographer had arranged everyone in rows. Grown-ups at the back. Kids at the front. All of them had poker-stiff backs and grim expressions. Even the babies looked stern under their little frilly bonnets!
Mrs Poole explained that in those days, hardly anyone owned a camera.
“This is a tremendously big deal for them. It isn’t like some holiday snap you throw away. The photographer is capturing a moment of real history”
I expect you’ve guessed that our headmistress was leading up to a really big announcement. Isn’t it funny how you can tell? It turned out the Parish Council had arranged to have a special millennial photograph taken of today’s Cuddingtonians in our school playground!
“So I hope you’ll all come along on the last Sunday in January to take
your
place in history,” Mrs Poole wound up.
When we got out into the corridor, everyone was buzzing, discussing what we’d wear for the photograph, so future generations would realise how cool we were.
“It’s got to be my Leicester City scarf,” said Kenny promptly.
Lyndz giggled. “Oooh, won’t you be really cold?”
“I’m wearing my silver jacket. No question,” said Frankie. She has this weird thing about silver. I’m surprised she doesn’t wear silver knickers.
