Screw Loose (33 page)

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Authors: Chris Wheat

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BOOK: Screw Loose
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Why is there a helicopter on the hockey field?' She rushed back into the auditorium, not waiting for answers.

The girls exploded into giggles as soon as she'd left. Joshua stood up. Staring at him was a crowd of St Ethelred's guys in their blue-and-green school uniforms – and a few were in kilts. They moved forward in an orderly and bored shuffle, thrusting their tickets at Heath and proffering their fists for Joshua's stamp.

How was he to stamp the backs of their hands without holding the hand? You grabbed the hand of a St Ethelred's guy – you died.

He stamped a proffered fist without touching it, but he came down too hard.

‘Watch it,' snapped the boy.

He grabbed the next hand without looking at the face and stamped a little less firmly. The boy said nothing. Next hand.

He looked up at the boy. The Ethel was looking away, as if he was about to get an injection. Next hand. He looked up and their eyes met. The Ethel scowled. ‘Come on!' the boy snapped.

Josh stamped fast. They only arced up if you looked at them: it was an Ethel thing. He kept his head determinedly lowered.

Suddenly the male hands stopped. This one was female. He glanced at the girl with relief. He didn't know her, but Khiem Dao was beside her.

‘Josh,' Khiem smiled. ‘Homie. I was supposed to be security but they don't need me. This is Penny. She goes here.'

Penny smiled at him. ‘Hi. You're a rower. We nearly drowned together.' She seemed nice.

‘I'm Josh.'

‘You're doing a great job,' she added.

Khiem winked. Joshua liked Khiem. He was carrying Chelsea's camcorder. The poor guy had been roped into recording Chelsea's life.

Suddenly the foyer exploded into flashes and noise, and there were Angelo and Matilda. A group of Japanese girls burst into the foyer, screaming ‘Machiruda! Machiruda!' and waving rubber bones.

Angelo was holding Matilda's hand. She had lipstick smeared across her cheek and was wearing a childlike jumper with a dog on the front. Angelo looked sullen.

‘How's it going?' he asked Angelo sympathetically.

Angelo shook his head. ‘Man,' he said, holding out his hand, ‘this whole thing sucks. Seen anyone who looks like Cockies management?'

Joshua shook his head. He cradled Angelo's hand very supportively and slowly pressed the stamp down. Chances like this came once in a lifetime.

Heath kicked him under the table. Joshua let go, and Angelo waved without looking at him and followed Matilda through the throng. Lights flashed, the screaming increased, and then they had vanished.

Two dubious-looking guys turned up in their wake, their eyes shifty. They weren't Vistaviewers, they weren't Ethels.

‘Seen Khiem Dao?' one asked. ‘We need to talk to him. It's urgent.'

‘You can't get in without a ticket,' Heath said.

‘We're not staying, we just want to see him,' the other said.

Suddenly they both bolted into the auditorium. Joshua looked at Heath and shrugged, feeling a twinge of concern.

Heath shrugged back. There was no time to deal with shifty gatecrashers.

Next came Zeynep. She leant towards Joshua as he stamped her. ‘I have to leave in the middle with Georgia to hang out the washing. Is that okay? Then we'll come back.'

‘Of course,' he said.

She gave a little shiver. ‘This is so fun.'

‘The suit looks great. You've got guts.'

She put her hand to her face and giggled.

Georgia put out her hand now. ‘Her parents think she's in the laundry doing her homework and the washing.' She rolled her eyes. ‘Josh, this is Tamsin.'

He knew who she was. She was the Magdalene rowing coach. She'd saved Chelsea. And he'd once seen her with her mother on television. She was tall, made taller by a top hat. He smiled, and she returned his smile. ‘I've heard about you. You helped to organise this,' she said. ‘Don't let Chelsea Dean rule your life.'

‘I don't,' he said.

‘Yo,' said Craig and held out his fist. ‘This is crazy. Classy do.'

He blew on his fingernails and polished them, then looked behind him as another commotion broke out.

Chelsea sailed into the foyer. She looked amazing – you'd have to say beautiful – in a long pink dress and small tiara – like a rather compact, buzzy princess. She approached and he lifted his stamp, smiling at her.

She held up her palm: ‘Joshua, I don't need a pass out – it's
my
party,' she said. She leant closer. ‘In fact, it's actually
my
birthday.'

She smiled more broadly and turned to the Channel Ten people, who'd followed her inside

‘I'm, like, so embarrassed!' she said, smiling at the cameras. ‘This was just going to be a small birthday – but
all
my friends have come. Matilda Grey is not my friend, but Angelo Tarano is, and I'm a tolerant person, so she can join in.'

She beamed at the camera and walked slowly to the auditorium door.

He had to admire her.

BIZARRO
CHOICES

A
NGELO
T
ARANO SHOT
furtive looks in all directions as he followed his embarrassing little partner for the night, Matilda Grey, through the Mary Magdalene auditorium; she seemed to be making a beeline for a large milling gang of Magdalene girls.

Paul Vasilevski and Melanie were somewhere among the crowd of girls and guys from the three schools, preparing to set him up for the big media kiss. That was their dream, but they were sick in the head. He'd come with Matilda, betrayed his girlfriend and his mate, lied to the public; wasn't that enough for these freaks? Lately, he'd started thinking about asking to be traded for some guy in another club.

He looked around the auditorium. Joshua's brother's band was tuning up on the stage. They weren't his style: too shabby, a bit too druggy. Josh wasn't like his brother at all. But girls seemed to like guys who didn't shower in the morning. Girls were weird sometimes. When there were great-looking males who looked after themselves, they went for guys who looked like they slept in coffins.

The Magdalene girls were grouped together, a sea of total babes – shiny and wiggly and tweety like gorgeous little canaries. So nice to look at, but nothing compared to Zeynep. They had flocked together on one side of the auditorium and were whispering and peeping at the Vistaviewers. A lot of them were looking over at him, he noticed. Oh well, what could a guy do?

The Vistaviewers, dressed in their best stuff, had clumped in a big pack on the other side of the large room and were doing their own thing, while the St Ethelred's guys were lounging at the back, dressed quite weirdly in their school uniforms, or in kilts, because their school was incredibly strict.

He had to find Zeynep before some Ethel hit on her. She was somewhere in the auditorium, in her brother's suit. She must have worn it for him. That was so sweet. He intended to spend the night dancing with her and maybe, when they found a dark corner away from prying Cocky eyes, teaching her the finer points of the no-holds-barred kiss.

Georgia strode past with her girlfriend, who was dressed like a symphony conductor.
Hot
. Right behind them were two Indian dudes, one in a red-and-gold jacket, the other wearing white. Georgia looked mad.

‘Georgia!' he called out. ‘Have you seen Zey?'

‘Will you disappear!' Georgia snapped at the guys behind her, ignoring Angelo. Her girlfriend gave them the finger. Then Georgia turned to Angelo. ‘I haven't seen Zey,' she answered. ‘I've been too busy trying to get rid of these
lunatics
to do anything else.'

Angelo took in the scene and wanted to thump them. He gave the Indians a major greasy and wondered if they'd seen him on television. Probably. ‘Back off, dudes, she doesn't want to know you,' he said firmly.

The bloke in white moved forward, his hand raised and his eyes round. He was scowling. Probably a bodyguard. Angelo hesitated. They both had swords.

‘She will not be able to resist me,' the bloke in red and gold responded, just as firmly. ‘I have much to offer. Many delightful pleasures! The ride in the helicopter.' He wiggled his eyebrows.

‘I couldn't think of anything more boring,' Georgia countered.

Just then Joshua's brother's band broke into
Teenage Dirtbag
and the Vistaviewers and Magdalene girls went crazy.
Kaboom!

Dancing everywhere. The Magdalene girls looked particularly wild. Several of them were throwing popcorn into the air, and a few threw their shoes.

The Indian bloke's face had lit up. He pulled out a sword and Angelo took a quick step back. Georgia shook her head in disgust as the bloke's hips and arms and legs began to thrash about to the beat. He threw his head back and laughed as he slashed his flashing sword.

‘THE UNCONSTRAINED JOYS OF BOLLYWOOD
!
' he bellowed over the pounding beat as he danced a circle around Georgia. ‘SUCH RHYTHMS! SO SENSUAL
!

'

Georgia's girlfriend emitted a strangled cry, grabbed Georgia by the shoulders, and pushed her into the crowd of dancers.

They vanished. The mad Indian danced furiously after them, followed by his bodyguard.

Angelo looked after them in bewilderment. Who were those jokers? And where was Zeynep? He noticed the Ethel's guys had sent out reconnaissance scouts to check out the girls. Predictable. Others were already starting to mix with the ladies, and one nut in a kilt was actually dancing. This was going to be a pretty wild event.

Just as one of the Magdalene girls lifted the guy's kilt and smacked him on the backside, Angelo found himself flanked by two Wilderness koalas. One rattled its plastic bucket at him; the other looked like it might go in for a hug. Just like in his nightmares! Angelo screamed and bolted.

He headed for the safest place in the auditorium: the dance floor's core. This was densely packed with Magdalene girls – too densely packed for Wilderness koalas. He'd be safe there. He pushed himself through the gyrating, chanting bodies, terror still in his veins.

The girls were all nudging one another and smiling at him. What could a guy do? He smiled back, calming a little: the big
I think you're all gorgeous and I'd like to go out with every one of
you, but hey, I'm only mortal
smile.

‘I'VE GOT TICKETS TO IRON MAIDEN, BABY,' they were singing at the tops of their voices. Their eyes caressed him. Big smile, nod. They loved it. He ran his hand carefully through his hair –
the way you do
. Look a little bit shy and lost. Look down. Look up. A bit of fast blinking. Sends them crazy.
Help
me, I'm drowning in a sea of girls
.

Two cute girls pushed up to him. ‘Hi, Angelo Tarano. I'm Cressie and this is my friend Chloe, and we were wondering if you'd mind kissing us! It's kind of a crazy dare.' Both girls giggled hysterically and presented their cheeks. He wondered what Zeynep would say. She probably wouldn't be all that rapt. But what the heck. Just two quick pecks. Keep the fan base happy.

Suddenly, he found himself pitching forward. He'd been hit! In the back! He crashed into Cressie and Chloe with a terrific thump, the three of them sprawling on the floor among the crushed popcorn.

He'd been tackled – smashed onto the floor – and something freaky was going on. People were piling onto him.
Ump!
Free kick!
What the hell was happening? Some Ethelred's goons? No, it was girls! Girls! He was being buried under a heap of Magdalene girls. Stacks on the mill!
Is this heaven or is
this hell?

It was hell! There were way too many of them for it to be fun. He struggled to budge them – all his footy skills came into play – but he was overwhelmed. They were trying to pin him.

They seemed to be after his clothes! This was not okay. Teachers should come. A girl was planting wet kisses all over his face.

They had pinned his legs. They had pinned his arms, too. This was girl power gone mad!

One girl was undoing his belt – they were after his Cocky jocks! No way was he having those auctioned off on eBay! His shoes were off, too.
Stop!
They were wrecking his hair!

Some guys might think this was a dream come true – but there was no ump, and these Magdalene girls were animals.

He yelled desperately for security, but it was hard when you had a pair of lips all over your mouth.

Then finally there was shouting and he was saved. The girls all started getting off him. Security guards and a lady teacher and Mr Dunn were yelling. The teachers and guards lifted him off the floor. He had popcorn on his suit. Sometimes he wished he wasn't so damned attractive.

‘They got my shoes and my belt,' he panted. ‘I think my face is scratched.'

The frizzy-haired lady teacher was shaking her head and brushing him off. ‘It's the influence of Phoebe Choudbury-Foote,' she said in a screechy voice. ‘She's somewhere in here.

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