Читать книгу Best Friends! - Rose Impey - Страница 6

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Can you remember your first sleepover? It’s always special, isn’t it? Sort of the best. Well, this one started off the worst – but then it was the best. A lot of the things that we do now whenever we have our sleepovers, we thought up that first night.

International Gladiators was Kenny’s idea and, because it was Kenny’s idea, Fliss was determined to give it a go. She wanted to prove she wasn’t a wimp and could be pretty fearless too.

The first event Kenny came up with was called Barging Contests. We have to get into pairs, one on the other’s back, like we’re horse riding. The two riders have to try to knock each other off using only their elbows, or sometimes a squishy pooh. A squishy pooh can be a sleeping bag, or a pillow case filled with clothes or cushions, that you swing at your opponent trying to knock her off. It can be pretty wild, especially when Kenny’s on the other end of the squishy pooh.

Having seen Fliss’s bedroom, I never thought she’d go for it in a gazillion years. She has enough ornaments and toys around to open a shop. But in minutes she’d cleared everything breakable out of the way and was on Lyndz’s back ready to do battle.

“Let’s go, go, go!” she squealed, hanging on to Lyndz for dear life and whirling her squishy pooh around her head.

“Prepare to meet the floor!” Kenny warned her.

“You wish,” Fliss replied.

I’ve probably made Fliss sound a bit of a fuss-pot (which she can be) and a bit of a cry baby (which she used to be), but Fliss is lots of other things too. She can be fierce when it’s a competition; she loves to win as much as Kenny does, and she really gave her a run for her money.

“Bulls eye!” Fliss shrieked every time she caught Kenny off guard. If Kenny wasn’t so tough Fliss would have had her off loads of times. I knew how hard Kenny was trying by the way she was digging her heels into me. Kenny’s such a brilliant aim, she hardly ever misses, but Fliss was brilliant too – at ducking. Several times Kenny missed her completely and nearly fell off herself.

In fact Fliss was doing so well she started getting cocky. Big mistake.

“So who’s got a date with the floor?” Fliss asked grinning, and forgetting to duck.

Wham! Kenny caught her full in the face. She fell backwards on to the bed carrying her horse with her. The pair of them landed so heavily the whole house seemed to shake.

In moments Nicky burst into the room expecting to find one of us fatally injured. Instead she found Fliss and Lyndz lying on the bed with their legs in the air, screaming with laughter.

“It’s OK, Mum, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Fliss told her. “Nobody broke anything.”

“I think you won,” Fliss told Kenny afterwards.

But Kenny admitted, “It was a close thing.”

After our mad half hour we thought we’d perhaps better quieten down a bit and at least start getting ready for bed. Then we all suddenly got a bit shy around each other again, so Fliss said we could get undressed in the bathroom. But Lyndz said, “No need,” and she taught us all this brilliant technique she called Sleeping Bag Striptease.

“This is what you do,” she said, wriggling down inside her sleeping bag until only her head was poking out, and started flinging her clothes out around the room and finally pulling on her PJs. Then she sat up looking a bit hot and bothered, but grinning from ear to ear.

When we timed ourselves, Kenny was the fastest, even though it was the first time she’d ever done it. But Fliss was almost as fast.

That twenty seconds record that Kenny set has been beaten lots of times since. Not by me, I might add, because I’m too tall. There’s never as much room in my sleeping bag and I often end up with both legs down the same trouser leg. It’s not easy being a beanpole, you know.

Once we were all ready for bed came the best part: the midnight feast. We’d all brought secret supplies and, after we were quite sure Nicky wasn’t coming back in, we turned off all the lights and sat round in a circle with our torches on. Kenny said we should put all the food together in a bowl that we’d made Fliss sneak down to the kitchen to borrow.

“You can’t possibly mix smoky bacon crisps with Skittles and fruit jellies,” Fliss said, horrified.

“Watch me,” Kenny said, busy tearing packets open.

Then we passed the bowl round and all tucked in. It was a bit like a lucky dip, not knowing what you’d pull out. Afterwards the crumbs and stuff left in the bottom did look a bit of a mess: “Like Nappy’s brain,” I said.

There’s a really annoying boy who lives next door to me, called Nathan, but I call him Nappyhead. If he had a brain, which I doubt, it would probably look just like that bowl of mangled leftovers.

“Somebody should eat it,” Kenny said, grinning. “I dare Lyndz.”

But before Lyndz had chance to say anything, Fliss said, “I’ll do it,” and stuffed her mouth full to bursting, while the rest of us made being sick noises.

“Whoa! Way to go, Fliss,” Lyndz said and we all cheered. There was definitely more to Fliss than we’d realised.

Although it was getting really late by now no one wanted to get into bed and go to sleep.

“Tell us a story, Frankie,” Kenny said.

“What kind of story?”

“Scary,” said Lyndz, grinning, “at least a bit scary.”

“Yeah, full of blood and guts,” Kenny said, drawing her top lip back and baring her teeth so she looked like a vampire.

But being scared half to death in her own bedroom was not one of the things Fliss was up for. “I don’t do scary,” she said firmly. “I’ll have nightmares.”

“Not with us here, you won’t,” Kenny promised. Famous last words.

While the other two sat right beside her with their arms round her shoulders, I made up this story about a bloodsucking vampire called Vladimir that lives at the top of the Clock Tower in the middle of Leicester.

“He can make himself invisible so he can slip into your bags and follow you home when you’ve been shopping,” I told them.

“Don’t say that,” Fliss begged. “I’m always round there shopping with my mum. I’ll never dare go again,” she wailed.

“For goodness sake, it’s a story,” Kenny said. “Get on with it, Frankie.”

“One day he slipped into the shopping bag of a girl called F-f-f…

“Oh, don’t make it Fliss,” she begged.

“Fiona,” I said. “When she got home Fiona opened her shopping to show her sister and little did she realise that the vampire had slipped out unseen into her bedroom, waiting for his moment to re-materialise.”

While I was telling the story I shone my torch under my chin and grinned, which Fliss said made me look really spooky and a bit like a vampire.

“Later,” I went on, “when the girl was lying in bed, all on her own, Vladimir slid over and sank his long vampire’s teeth into her soft white neck…”

When I looked over at Fliss she was holding on to her own neck as if she thought the vampire was in the room with us. By the time I’d finished even Lyndz was looking a bit sick. Kenny, of course, was grinning from ear to ear. She loves talking about blood so much I sometimes think she might have been a vampire herself in a previous life.