Don't Kiss Girls and Other Silly Stories (5 page)

Once I do, I'm dead to the world before I can count to ten degrees.

*

‘Ready. And … begin!' says Mr Relf, pressing a button on his stopwatch.

You'd think he was talking about the start of a race, not the start of a stupid test. Although this time the test isn't as stupid as usual because I actually understand it. If you know the right formulas, maths suddenly becomes a lot easier. Especially when all the formulas are written on the tops of your legs.

I hardly have to look at my legs, though, 'cause I remember most of them. It must be because I slept on top of the textbook. Question one asks me to find the area of a triangle and, by using B
×
H
÷
2, I do it easily.

In fact, I find the whole test pretty easy-peasy, except
for the challenge question. I have no idea what
it's on about, but luckily Brains is sitting diagonally
in front of me. I cup my hands against my
forehead, making it seem like I'm full-on concentrating. Which I am.
I'm concentrating on seeing what Brains has written. He's
pretty good at covering up his work so I'm not
sure if I cheat perfectly, but I do my
best. That's all I can ask of myself, really
.

Gavin's beside me and he's getting nearly everything wrong, the dummy. He's written that similar triangles have the same father but a different mother. I start to laugh.

‘Ross!' says Mr Relf. ‘Stop copying off Fox or I'll rip your test in two.'

The bell rings and Relfy collects our tests. Right before he does, I have this sudden urge to write my own name on the top. But then I think of Ashleigh.

Gavin and I hang back after class.

‘Well, this is something new,' says Mr Relf. ‘What do you boys want, some extra homework?'

‘We were wondering if you could mark my … umm, Gavin's test now,' I say.

‘I'll do it on the weekend.'

‘It's just that we've got this bet, sir. Gavin thinks he'll get an A.'

Mr Relf laughs. ‘Well, it won't take long to settle that.' He takes the test out. ‘Hmm,' he says, as he ticks question one. ‘Hmmm.' He gives another tick. And a few minutes later: ‘Hmmmmm. This is incredible, Fox!'

‘You mean he's got an A?' I ask.

‘I'm as amazed as you are, Ross. He's got everything right except for the challenge question. If he'd got that one he would've got an A plus.'

Now I'm glad I mucked up the cheating. An A plus would've looked way too suspicious.

‘Let's see if miracles happen in pairs, shall we?' Mr Relf takes out the test with my name on it.

‘Leave mine till later, sir,' I say. ‘I don't want you working too hard.'

He holds up his hand, signalling for us to wait.

‘Errrr,' he says, putting a cross beside question one. ‘Errrrrr.' He crosses question two.

A minute later he looks up. ‘Funny, but
I thought if one of you were to spring a
surprise it'd be you, Ross. But I guess I was wrong.'
He holds up my mark: D minus.

‘He'll just have to study as hard as me next time, won't he, sir?' says Gavin.

I throw Gavin a dirty look but he doesn't seem to notice; he's high as a kite when we get outside.

‘Did you see that? I got an A!'

‘No,
I
got an A. You got a D minus.'

He ignores me. ‘I'm gonna be rich!'

I start to wonder if I've done the right thing, but then Cathy skips up. I squeeze Gavin's bicep. ‘Remember,' I say.

‘Hey, Gavin. Hey, nosy,' she says.

‘Hey.'

‘Ashleigh really needs to know right now if you like her,' she says to Gavin.

Gavin looks into Cathy's eyes. ‘Tell her I was just trying to make someone jealous. Someone I
really
like.'

‘Who is it?' asks Cathy.

‘Are you sure you wanna know?'

She nods.

He takes her hand and writes ‘ME' on the back of her wrist.

Cathy looks at it, confused. ‘You really like … yourself?' Then she starts blushing. ‘Oh, I get it. I really like me, I mean, you, too. Oh, I'm so embarrassed!'

She runs off.

‘Hey!' I yell.

Cathy turns around.

‘Tell Ashleigh that the other guy is still available. And that he likes her heaps. He'll be at the handball court if she wants to talk to him.'

She gives me a smile. ‘She'll be there. I promise.'

*

Pretty soon I'll be going out with the coolest girl in school. All the suffering – the D minus, being called nosy – is going to be worth it. And there's one person I want to tell. The one person who beats me at everything, and always rubs it in.

Kane.

He's in the King square, as usual, and I'm the Queen. We're not playing chess, though. We're playing a much harder game: handball.

‘Guess what?' I say to Kane. ‘I've got a girlfriend.'

He smacks a backhander. ‘When's she gettin' outta jail?'

I see Cathy and my new girlfriend walking towards me. Well, she will be my new girlfriend. I just need to make it official.

‘She's coming my way right now,' I say. ‘Try not to get jealous.'

He takes a look. ‘Savage?'

‘No. Ashleigh.'

‘You're going out with Ashleigh Simpkin?'

‘Yep.'

‘She likes
you
?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Geez. She's not half bad.'

This is the moment I've been waiting for my whole life. The moment when Kane Steele finally realises I'm as good as him, maybe even better.

‘You sure?' he asks.

‘Sure as I am that the angles of a triangle add up to 180 degrees.'

‘Gee. You've changed.' He looks at me and, for the first time ever, I see respect.

‘Hey, Tony. Hey, Kane,' says Cathy.

Notice how she didn't call me nosy? That has to be a good sign.

‘Ashleigh's got something to tell you, don't you?' Cathy gives Ashleigh a nudge.

Ashleigh brushes her beautiful brown hair out of her eyes and gives us a nervous smile. ‘I want to say thanks, Tony, for telling Cathy what you did.'

‘No worries.' I throw Kane an ‘I told you so' look.

Then Ashleigh turns to Kane. ‘A bunch of us are seeing a movie tonight, at the plaza. I was kinda hoping you might …'

‘What?' he says.

‘What?' I say.

‘Shhh,' says Cath
y. ‘Let her finish.'

‘I was hoping you might wanna,
umm, go with … me?'

‘What?' I say.

‘Shhh,' says Cathy. ‘Let Kane answer.'

Kane gives me a little smirk, and then says to Ashleigh, ‘That'd be wicked.'

It's quiet for a moment. I still don't know exactly what's going on.

‘Go on!' Cathy nudges Ashleigh.

She steps forward and gives Kane a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘See you tonight, then.'

‘Can't wait,' he says.

I pinch myself, hoping I'll wake up.

‘Hey, nosy,' Cathy says to me. ‘Get your chin off your chest. Haven't you seen anyone kiss before?'

She and Ashleigh giggle, and then they're gone.

‘Gee, Rossy,' says Kane. ‘Your girlfriend really likes me.' He starts cracking up.

After chucking the ball at his head – and missing – I take off. I have to tell Gavin that he owes me 50 bucks. I need to start saving up. Nose jobs aren't cheap, you know.

I'm surprised to find him talking to Mr Relf. Or should I say, Mr Relf is talking to Gavin.

‘And then when I cross-checked your test with Kevin McMahon's, I noticed that you both had exactly the same answers. You even made the same mistake on the challenge question. This leads me to believe there is a high probability that one of you cheated.'

‘Why would Brains cheat?'
asks Gavin. ‘He's smart.'

Mr Relf raises an eyebrow.

‘You don't mean …' Gavin puts his hands on his hips. ‘I
so
did not cheat off Brains! I swear to God.'

‘Okay then,' says Mr Relf. ‘Tell me the formula for the area of a triangle?'

Gavin looks confused. ‘Umm … PS4 times Xbox?'

I slink
off. Probably best if Gavin and Relfy sort out
this little misunderstanding between themselves
, I reckon.

For a while I wander aimlessly around the school, but then I find myself outside the library and I think, why not? If I'm just as smart as Brains at triangles, maybe I can even beat him at chess?

At least we can complain about girls together.

How to Write a Love Letter

Ashleigh's single again.

Kane dumped her because … well, he's Kane. This is my big chance to ask her out, but even though I'm desperate, I don't want to talk to Ashleigh face-to-face.

You see, I'm not good at speaking, especially under pressure. Yesterday in my SOSE oral I called Captain Cook ‘Captain Hook'.

Miss Mason said that if Captain Hook discovered Australia the convicts would've eaten a lot more fish.

I hate it when teachers try to be funny.

When I'm at home, in front of the mirror, I can talk real smooth. But when I get near girls my brain turns to mush. If I had a flip-top scalp you could suck it out with a straw. A brain shake.

I just need a way of making Ashleigh see what I'm really like. Well, not what I'm really like, but what I'm like sometimes. Well, occasionally.

I lie on my bed, trying to think up a plan for how I'm going to get through to her. I grab my pillow and pretend it's Ashleigh, squeezing her to my rock-hard chest before pulling her close to my face.

Yuck! Ashleigh smells like methane gas.

Simon!

My little bro is always doing annoying things like stinking up my pillow, and I'm always getting him back. Although, we've done so many bad things to each other it's hard to know who's getting who back, and for what. Last week I put shaving cream on his hand while he was sleeping and then scratched his nose with a feather. It was hilarious. I don't remember what he did to deserve it, but I'm sure he did something.

This time I've got the evidence in my hands. And it stinks.

He's playing Xbox, so I sneak up behind him and wrap the pillow around his face.

‘You think I like sleeping on that? Do ya? Huh. Do ya?'

He can't really answer because I've got the pillow stuffed against his mouth. Eventually, he frees himself.

‘It wasn't me!' He smacks me in the stomach with the controller. It doesn't hurt. Well, maybe a bit. ‘Smell it properly!'

I'd rather not, but I have a quick whiff to see if he's telling the truth.

‘It's girl gas, you moron,' he says.

I have another whiff, to make sure. I hate to admit it but he's right.

I punch him in the shoulder. ‘Don't call me a moron, moron.'

‘I'll get you for this,' he says as I walk away.

On my way to the study, I wonder what I did to Belinda to make her want to get me back. My big sis doesn't normally resort to low tricks unless I've done something really bad, like the time I stole her diary and put some of it up on the internet.

She's reading the computer screen, an email titled ‘How to Write a Love Letter'. Belinda and her friends are always sending each other junk like that.

‘Why'd you do it?' I say, taking the firm approach.

She doesn't look up. ‘Do what?'

‘Stink up my pillow.'

‘What are you talking about? I'm not a barbarian like my brothers.'

A barbarian, hey? I don't know what it means but it sounds cool. I thrust the pillow near her face, testing her. I figure if she
did
do it she won't react. People don't mind the smell of themselves, no matter what part of the body it comes from.

She shrieks and slaps me across the chest. It doesn't hurt. Well, maybe a bit. Actually, a lot. My rock-hard chest feels like it's been whacked with a cricket bat.

‘That's disgusting!' she says.

Either she's an excellent actor, or she didn't do it.

‘That smells like … No, it couldn't be.'

‘Couldn't be what?' I say.

‘Nothing. Look, it wasn't me, okay? Now go away. I'm busy.'

I suddenly get a brilliant idea. ‘I'll leave on one condition.'

‘What?'

‘Print me a copy.' I nod at the screen.

She crosses her arms. ‘You shouldn't be reading my personal emails!'

‘Don't get your knickers in a knot. I just want that bit,' I say, pointing.

‘Why?'

‘Just … because.'

She looks at me, smiling. ‘You want to write a love letter, don't you? To that Ashleigh girl.'

I don't answer.

She continues, more
enthusiastic-like. ‘You should let me help you, T
one. I'm really good at that sort of thing.'

I hesitate for a second, only 'cause she's right. Belinda's had more boyfriends than I've had underpants.

‘Nah,' I decide. ‘You
don't know Ashleigh like I do. Besides, you'll do it
like a girl. It'll sound nothing like me.'

She raises a waxed eyebrow. ‘And that's a bad thing?'

I hold the pillow close to her face. ‘Just print it out.'

She does.

In the hallway, Mum bails me up. ‘Have you cleaned your room yet?'

‘Umm. I've started. See?' I hold up the pillow as evidence.

‘What did I say would happen if you didn't clean your room?'

I think for a bit. ‘Something bad?'

‘No, that was two weeks ago. Last week I said something
very
bad would happen, and this week you're up to something
very
, very
bad.'

She's standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. Those hips have given birth to three kids, and the only way past is to tell her what she wants to hear.

‘No worries,' I say. ‘I'm going there right now.'

‘I mean it, Tony.'

‘So do I. My room's gonna sparkle like the top of Dad's head. I promise.'

She steps out of the way.

I don't know why Mum bugs me so much about cleaning my room. I like it messy because I know exactly where everything is. Dirty T-shirts: floor. Dirty underwear: floor. Pet cockroaches: everywhere.

Besides, I've got more important things to do than clean. Like lie on my bed and dream of Ashleigh opening a love letter that
I've
written. I'm gonna be in like Flynn, I reckon. Especially if I chuck in the photo that Dad took last summer when we were at the beach. It's me without my shirt on. And without my head on, too. Dad's a really bad photographer.

Not that there's anything wrong with my head, but I don't want Ashleigh to know who I am yet. I want to be anony-ross.

I pull my spare pillow to my lips and pretend it's Ashleigh. It smells a lot better than the other Ashleigh pillow. After lots of hugs and kisses, I'm ready to write the best love letter of my life.

Although that's not so hard, as it'll be the first love letter of my life.

But how tricky can it be? Especially when I've got step-by-step instructions …

HOW TO WRITE A LOVE
LETTER

RULE 1: Spell the person's name
right

Darn! Why don't I like a girl with an easy name, like … Sue. I decide to play it safe.

Dear Ashlee/Ashlea/Ashleigh(Please cross out the wrong ones.)

R
ULE 2: Make her feel special

Okay, this should be easy.

I've never done this before
but this is different. You are different.

Yeah, that's good.

I've been noticing you for a long
time. I'm not a weirdo or anything but.

I put that in just in case she thinks I'm a weirdo.

RULE 3: Tell the
person how you feel about them

When I see you at
school I feel good. That time you accidentally ran into
me during PE I felt great. If we ever kissed
I think I'd feel totally sick.

RULE 4: Suggest a plan of action that'
s mysterious and romantic

If you want to find out who
I am, meet me in front of the tuckshop at
lunchtime. I will be holding a chocolate milk. (I'll let
you have a sip.)

RULE 5: Finish with lots
of kisses and hugs

LoveYour secret admirerer

I hold the letter up, pleased as spiked punch. Ashleigh will soon be mine, ay? I slip the letter into my favourite hiding place – my underwear drawer.

Mum walks in.

‘I'm afraid your time's up,' she says.

‘What?'

‘I told you there'd be consequences if you didn't clean your room, didn't I?'

‘I can't remember.' My rule is: When in trouble, get amnesia.

She sits on my bed, right on top of my spare pillow.

I smile, thinking that it's weird that my mum is sitting on Ashleigh.

Her face screws up. ‘Very … serious—' And then her expression changes all of a sudden; she looks almost relaxed. ‘—consequences … ahhh.'

No! It couldn't be! I bend down and take a whiff.

‘MUM! THAT'S GROSS!'

She smiles. ‘Just trying to talk to my son in a language he understands.'

‘Aww, that's disgusting!'

‘There'll be itching powder in your undies next. I suggest you start cleaning.'

*

After dumping a mountain of clothes in the washing machine, not to mention two pillowcases, I go for a walk. I need some fresh air.

I also
need to get psyched up for tomorrow. It'
s one thing to write a good letter, it's another to know
what to say when Ashleigh finds out I'm her secr
et admirerer. Even though we've had our shar
e of run-ins, I decide I'd better visit Kane. He knows a lot
more about girls than me.

He's in his driveway, washing his dad's Holden. I'm more of a Ford man m'self.

‘Rossy.'

‘Kane.'

‘Give me a hand, will ya?'

Normally, I'd give him the fake hand I carry around in my pocket, but this time I'd better help out. I need to get in his good books.

‘I'll spray, you scrub,' he says.

‘Why can't I spray and you scrub?'

‘This hose has a sensitive nozzle. Only I can control it.'

Kane reckons he's even good at hosing.

I start scrubbing the back window. ‘You know how you went out with Ashleigh for a bit?' I say, trying to sound all casual.

‘Which one: Taylor, Smith or Simpkin? I've dated three Ashleighs this year. Not as bad as Lauren, though. I've been out with four of those …'

‘Simpkin,' I say, getting the conversation back on track. ‘What sort of stuff does she like to talk about?'

‘We didn't talk much.'

‘Why not?'

He twists the nozzle and the water stops.

‘You want some advice on girls?'

I stop scrubbing. ‘Yeah.'

‘First, promise you'll help me clean both cars.'

‘
Both
cars?' I look in the garage and spot their four-wheel drive. It's covered in mud. I sigh. ‘All right.'

‘Now listen carefully. It took me ages to learn this.'

I lean forward.

‘Every word you say to a girl is a weapon of your own destruction,' he says.

‘What do ya mean?'

‘Well, let's say you and her are talking. Just shooting the breeze like we are, right?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Well, she'll
actually
listen
to you. Then she'll go home at night and
think about what you said. And then she'll call her friends and tell them about it,
and pretty soon your words will mean something completely diffe
rent from what you thought.'

‘I still don't get it.'

He points the hose at me for emphasis. ‘Let's say you tell her, “Those jeans are nice.” Well, she'll end up thinking what you really mean is that you hate all her skirts, because they make her legs look fat.'

‘But Ashleigh's legs are hot,' I say.

‘It doesn't matter what you
mean
. It's what you
say
.'

‘So what are you supposed to do, then?'

‘You say nothing.'

‘Nothing?'

‘Nuthin. Let her do the talking. Or else one day you'll say something wrong, without even knowing it, and the pressure will build up inside her until …'

Suddenly, water bursts out of the hose, soaking my best T-shirt.

‘Kane!'

He laughs.

*

After fifteen minutes of SOSE I start hassling
Miss Mason.

‘Can I go to the toilet, Miss?'

‘No.'

‘But Miss, I'm busting!'

‘You should've gone before school.'

‘I was in a hurry to get to class. SOSE is my favourite subject.'

I show her a page full of notes. Actually, they're not mine. I borrowed Kevin ‘Brains' McMahon's notes when he wasn't looking.