Missing! (4 page)

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Authors: Bali Rai

BOOK: Missing!
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‘You fool!' shouted Abs. ‘She can't really fly . . . can you . . . er . . . Wendy?'

‘Only when I really have to, people,' Wendy replied.

‘So what's Mr Turner's name?' I asked.

‘Steve,' Wendy told us.

‘That's so cool,' said Abs. ‘Now it won't be like being at school when we play . . .'

Wendy and Ian gave him a funny look.

‘I guess that'll be the lack of maths lessons,' suggested Ian.

Abs shrugged. Whatever,' he said.

Wendy told us to go and get changed, but Ian stopped her.

‘We nearly forgot,' he said, pulling some of the paper off his clipboard. ‘As our next game against Rockwell Rangers isn't for two weeks, we've arranged a special team-building exercise this Saturday . . .'

I looked at Dal and Chris. Chris's face was beaming with a big, broad grin.

‘Like a trip?' he asked excitedly.

‘Exactly that,' added Wendy. ‘So we've got some notes for your parents. You will need their permission to come along and we'll also need at least two parents to come too.'

‘So can you check with them when you get in later?' continued Ian. ‘And let us know by Thursday. Your parents have our phone numbers.'

Dal's face fell a bit. ‘What if none of our parents can make it?' he asked.

‘Then it may be difficult to arrange but we'll see . . .' replied Ian.

‘Why – where are we going?' asked Lily.

‘To the moon,' joked Abs.

‘Ahh!' replied Parvy, defending her friend. ‘Look at that – the little boy tried to make a joke.'

The rest of the squad burst into laughter
and Abs scowled, but not for long. I think he was getting used to having the girls around after the weekend. Especially after Lily's brilliant goal. Not that he'd admit it.

‘OK, OK,' said Wendy. ‘Cool it! We were going to take you on a tour of Wembley but that fell through . . .'

‘OHHHH!!!!!' we all said together.

‘But,' she added, holding up her hand to stop us moaning, ‘we will be doing that later in the season – as a reward – if you do well . . .'

‘YEAAHHHHHHHHHHH!'

Shut it!' shouted Ian.

As we calmed down, I asked where we were going instead.

‘Paintballing,' replied Ian. ‘A game of strategy and team—'

Only we didn't let him finish. Instead we all went crazy with excitement. It took ages for us to calm down. When we had, Wendy told us to go and get changed.

‘Are we dancing again, miss?' asked Abs.

‘Call me Wendy,' she said with a smile.

‘And no, we're not dancing, although I could arrange it just for you if you'd like?'

‘No thanks,' replied Abs.

‘Didn't think so,' she added.

Dal's dad gave me, Abs and Chris a lift home too after training and we were all really excited about going paintballing.

‘I'm gonna splat you all!' boasted Abs.

‘Not if we're on the same team,' I told him.

‘Oh yeah,' he said.

‘What's this?' asked Dal's dad.

Paintballing,' Dal told him. The coaches are taking us at the weekend. I've got a form for you to sign because we're too young or something . . .'

‘Oh-OK,' replied his dad.

‘And they need some parents to come too, Mr Singh,' I added. ‘Will you do it?'

This weekend, Jason?' asked Dal's dad.

For a second I was disappointed. When my mum doesn't want to do something I ask her to, she always replies like Mr Singh did. But then he surprised us.

‘Yes – I don't see why not,' he said.

‘Nice one, Dad!' beamed Dal.

‘I've not been paintballing for years . . .'

‘My dad'll do it!' added Chris.

And mine!' said Abs. I'm sure he will want to.'

Dal's dad looked in his rear-view mirror at me. ‘Ask your mum too, Jason,' he said to me. I'm sure she'd love to join us.'

I hadn't thought about asking my mum. I had just assumed that she wouldn't want to come along.

‘I'll ask her when I get in,' I said. ‘But she might be working.'

My mum works in an office and she does long hours sometimes. And I wasn't sure that I wanted her to come either. She'd probably want to wear high heels or something. She was great, but sometimes she could be a bit embarrassing too.

‘We could have girls versus boys!' said Abs excitedly.

‘You just fancy them,' joked Chris. ‘That's why you're always having a go at Lily.' ‘No!' complained Abs. ‘And anyway, she' Dal's girlfriend.'

‘No, she isn't,' moaned Dal.

‘Oh, really?' asked Mr Singh. ‘Is there something I should know, Dal?'

Dal's face dropped. No, Dad. Honest!'

Mr Singh winked at me in the mirror. ‘Oh, chill out, kid – I was only joking,' he replied.

This time Dal looked embarrassed.

‘Dad – can you please not use words like that?' he asked.

I smiled. Maybe my mum wasn't the only embarrassing parent in the world after all.

Saturday

WE GOT TO
paintballing at midday. Steve Turner had driven some of us in a minibus which he'd borrowed from a friend. The rest of the squad came with parents. Everyone in the squad turned up, along with about ten parents, including my mum. She was busy talking to Lily's mum, who had also come along. They were talking about nails and other girl things and I was glad to get away. I was standing with Dal and Abs, waiting to get started. But Wendy and Ian were still on
their way and we had a bit of time to kill.

‘We're gonna stuff Bolton,' said Abs, talking about Man United.

Dal shook his head. ‘No you're not,' he replied. ‘They're too good for you lot . . .'

‘Rubbish,' said Abs.

‘Yeah – just like your team,' added Dal.

I stayed out of the conversation because my team, Chelsea, weren't playing until Sunday. Instead, I was looking around. The paintballing place was huge. We were standing in a gravel car park, at the entrance to some woods. In front of us was a club-house-type place where we had registered. It was built of wood and had small windows. Next to it was a shop which sold things like paintball guns and other stuff, and next to that a small café, where most of the parents had gone straight away. Behind the buildings were the woods, with big old trees that looked dark and spooky. The course itself
was in there and I noticed that there were a few maps pinned to posts which were dug into the ground by the club-house.

‘I'm going to look at the maps,' I said, pointing to one.

Abs and Dal just grunted at me and went on arguing about Liverpool and Man U. I shook my head and walked over to one of the maps. It showed a narrow pathway which ran in a
random pattern all around the course. There were two bases marked on it too, either side of a stream which had only four bridges shown across it. The bases were coloured red and blue. Also marked were an assault course area and five sets of sniper huts. These seemed to be directly opposite each other, which meant that they were going to be difficult to get past without getting hit. There
were also thickets of trees marked all along the pathway, and beyond them, areas marked out of bounds. It looked great!

‘I
love
paintballing,' I heard someone say.

I turned to see Penny, Gem and Emma standing behind me, smiling. It was Penny who had spoken. I didn't know what to say so I smiled and asked a stupid question.

‘Have you been before?' I said. ‘I thought Mr Turner said we were too young normally, so this was a day arranged just for us.'

Penny smiled at me. ‘Well, they must do it for special groups, ‘cause I went to a centre just like this one last year and I loved it! So yeah, I have been before – that's why I
like
it,' she replied.

‘Oh, OK,' I said.

‘I hope it's girls versus boys,' said Emma. ‘We'll beat you easily . . .'

I shrugged. ‘That's what Abs keeps saying – about boys v girls,' I explained.

‘He doesn't like us, does he?' said Gem.

I shrugged again. ‘He's just a bit funny about you playing for the team,' I replied. ‘We didn't know that there'd be girls playing when we joined up so it was like a shock . . .'

Gem nodded and smiled at me. ‘We don't like Abs,' she said, like she was talking for all of the girls.

‘He's OK,' I said. I didn't want them to not like my mate. Abs could be silly sometimes, but he was a great friend.

‘He's always having a go at us,' added Penny. ‘Even after Lily scored that brilliant goal in the last game.'

Just then Byron, Ben and Leon turned up.

‘What you doing, Jason?' asked Leon.

‘Nothing,' I replied. ‘Just looking at a map of the course.'

‘It's going to be wicked!' said Byron with a huge grin.

‘Yeah!' added Emma. ‘Especially if it's boys versus girls . . .'

Ben shook his head. ‘I asked Steve Turner and he said it won't be. They've already decided on the teams.'

‘Have they?' I asked.

Ben nodded. ‘All the defenders and the goalkeepers on one side and the midfielders on the other. The strikers are going to draw straws and the parents are going to join in too,' he told us.

Straight away I wondered if my mum would be on my side. I hoped not. That would so lame. But then I thought about how the teams would be split and I realized that I'd be on a different team from Dal.

‘I can't wait,' said Gem. ‘Let's go and see if we can get ready . . .'

Ready for what?' I asked.

Gem smiled at me, but it was a nice smile. She wasn't teasing me. ‘Mr Turner told us all
about it on our way here,' she said. ‘You get given overalls to wear and safety goggles and hats and things.'

I'd come with Dal in his dad's car with my mum so I didn't know anything about it.

‘Oh,' I replied.

‘That way we won't get paint in our eyes,' Gem explained.

‘Or our hair,' added Emma. ‘That would just be soooo horrible.'

I heard cars pull into the car park and saw Chris and his dad get out of one and Ian and Wendy get out of another.

‘That's everyone then,' said Byron. ‘Let's have some fun!'

We were split into two teams: Red and Blue. I was on the Red team and thankfully my mum wasn't, although I would have to shoot at her now. Instead I had Corky, Lily, Byron and Chris with me as well as Ant, Penny an
Emma. The adult Reds included Lily's mum and Dal's dad. After we'd been given our clothing and safety equipment we were taken off by one of the instructors, who showed us how to use the paint guns correctly. Once that was done we were led to the starting area, and I wondered what my mum would do if I got her with a paint ball. Knowing her she'd probably moan about having her hair out of place!

When we got there the Blue team had already gone. The lead instructor, who was called Gavin, told us why.

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