Boy Meets Hamster Read online

  I made a face. ‘Yeah, I’ve been talking to Mum for years too. Thanks though.’

  Inside I was wilting a bit. I couldn’t help wondering if he wished I would talk about girls with him. I didn’t want to talk about Kayla, though. I just kept going over how she’d said I didn’t care about her. Of course I did. It wasn’t my fault that her jealousy of me and Jayden-Lee was making her completely unreasonable.

  Not that me and Jayden-Lee was ever going to happen now.

  ‘Anything else you want to talk about?’ Dad nudged me again.

  He just wasn’t going to leave it alone this morning. For a moment I actually thought about telling him everything, the same way I’d nearly spilt it all to Mum yesterday. I could tell him about Nibbles and how he was ruining my life. And about my fight with Kayla and everyone’s massive fight with everyone else last night. Maybe even about Jayden-Lee, and how I’m definitely gay, even though I was Man of the Match six times in one year at school.

  But then I thought about his mates in the pub, and what they’d have said about seeing me up onstage at the karaoke, and I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t the right time.

  We stopped at a set of child-sized traffic lights to let the miniature train that ran around the park chug slowly by. I scuffed a foot into the dirt and shook my head.

  Dad patted me firmly on the shoulder. ‘Well, you know I’m always here if you – ONE SWING LEFT.’

  And the next minute it was just me and Jude, watching Dad sprint through the gates of the playground to bags the last swing. Jude twisted in his chair to look up at me. ‘Kayla’s not really going to be a dog, is she?’

  I just about stopped myself from clapping a palm across my face. ‘No, and you’d better not call her that, unless you’ve lost the will to live.’

  Jude nodded solemnly, looking like a little wise old man with a hamster growing out of his forehead. ‘OK. Let’s get Dad to do it.’

  I laughed. ‘Sure. But first, let’s go kick him off the swings.’

  EIGHTEEN

  As soon as Jude rolled through the playground entrance, two pink and purple blurs threw themselves off the climbing frame and raced towards us. I remembered them from the party a few days ago. Polly and Dolly? No, Minnie and Winnie.

  I could see their mum getting talking to Dad while he was pulling some stunt moves on the swings.

  ‘It is our birthday,’ panted Winnie or Minnie, making it to us first.

  ‘We are a year older,’ breathed Minnie or Winnie, when she caught up.

  ‘And,’ they both said in unison, ‘we gotted pony princess outfits.’

  Which did explain why they were both in ball gowns, with pink and purple fuzzy ears clipped into their hair. I hadn’t said anything for the same reason Mum hadn’t been too fussed about Jude wanting to live in his hat. Four-year-olds are strange.

  Although, I had spent last night karaoke-ing with a hamster and a pack of attack fairies, so maybe it wasn’t just them.

  Jude was looking at the twins curiously, tilting his head as though he was trying to puzzle something out. I thought he might be wondering what kind of ponies came in pink.

  ‘Don’t you like them?’ he asked.

  And then I noticed that the two little girls were frowning identical frowns.

  ‘We love them, but . . .’ The twin princesses turned around to show big rips in the back of each of their dresses, and wailed, ‘TROY TOOKED OUR TAILS.’

  Troy Slater was a menace to society. I didn’t know what he had against hair exactly, but first he ruined Jude’s, and now he was up to no good with a couple of rainbow-coloured pony tails.

  I didn’t know if the police could do much about six-year-olds with antisocial behaviour issues, but as far as I was concerned, that kid should have been clamped. I was going to have to tell Dad and the twins’ mum what had happened to Jude. Maybe if the Dramavan had two sets of angry parents descending on it, Jayden-Lee wouldn’t think my mum was totally bizarre.

  And I could let Dad break the news gently to Mum that her baby boy looked like he should be colouring in Bibles in a monastery.

  I was going to do it. I had to. I marched over to Dad, ready to tell him the bald truth, when a yell from outside the park stopped me in my tracks.

  ‘Oi, Leroy, on yer head!’

  Somewhere just beyond the edge of the play park, a ball flew up into the air and seemed to hover for a split second, then vanished downwards again. It didn’t reappear – Leroy’s head obviously didn’t get to it in time.

  There was a rattle of laughter. Kev, Leroy and Dean must have been having a kickabout. I looked at Dad, who was still trying to swing himself over the top bar, totally unprepared for the news I was about to break. I could use this moment to tell him what had happened to Jude’s hair, or I could tell him I wanted to play football with some new friends. I knew which one he’d be happier about.

  It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get to know Kev and the others better, either. Especially since Kayla had decided yoga was more fun than me. They hadn’t been as impressed by my trick shot as Jayden-Lee was, but I had loads more up my sleeve. I could offer to teach them, and then maybe we could all hang out together. Then they could put in a good word for me with Jayden-Lee, and he’d realize I’d never meant to foam him in the face. He seemed like the understanding type. I was sure that under his tough, bad-boy surface there was a gentle heart just waiting to be allowed to care.

  ‘Troy? Where are you, you little git? What have you done with my phone?’

  If I had a superpower, it must have been the ability to conjure someone up by wishful thinking.

  I knew that voice. I knew it the same way Kayla knew all the words to the Deathsplash Nightmares’ new albums the day after they came out. I knew it because I spent all day listening to it in my head. Remembering the little rasp in it, and the way he clipped off letters he didn’t seem to need.

  ‘Get out ‘ere before I kick in your PlayStation, you runt.’

  It was the most amazing voice I’d ever heard. And it belonged to someone I’d last seen looking disgusted with me through two inches of foam.

  Leroy and Kev were calling over to Jayden-Lee. There was no time to befriend them now. No time to prove I was more than a bad aim with a fire extinguisher. No time for anyone to put in a good word.

  I wasn’t ready.

  Throwing myself over the safety barrier at the only non-walled edge of the play park, I crashed straight into the bushes of the woodland area beyond, just as Jayden-Lee came stomping through the gates.

  The bushes were quite comfy, which was good, as I was seriously considering making them my new home. I couldn’t face the world again, not if Jayden-Lee had seen Dad in his see-through shorts.

  At least, the bushes were comfy until I noticed the thorns. I’d wedged myself firmly into a narrow, V-shaped gap between two branches, and now couldn’t make any sudden movements if I wanted to keep my skin attached. I thought about how long I could stay out here. If I made myself a comfy bed of leaves and lived off the half-empty crisp packets that blew out of the bins, it could be a sustainable thing.

  My stomach made a soft groaning noise at the thought of food – I’d opted out of another helping of beef on toast that morning – but I could still see the very top of Jayden-Lee’s head from where I was sitting. His golden hair caught the light like his own personal halo.

  It wasn’t safe to leave.

  I’d just stay in my bushes until the coast was clear, listening to the birds singing, the branches snapping, the leaves crunching . . .

  The last two didn’t seem quite right. It sounded like an animal was in there with me, but not a small, cute, normal animal like a hedgerow mouse. More of a massive, stompy animal, like a bear. I froze. I’d heard that you shouldn’t run if you happened to encounter a wild animal because it only gave them something to chase.

  There was a zoo not far from the caravan park. They must have had an escapee. The bear must have come down here looking for picnic baskets,
which I always thought was a myth, but maybe all those cartoons were based on fact. Maybe bears only murdered people if they didn’t have a bag full of pork pies and cucumber sandwiches.

  I could see the headlines now: BOY DIES IN BRITAIN’S FIRST BEAR ATTACK: IF ONLY HE’D BROUGHT SOME LUNCH.

  The bear tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, ‘Have you lost something?’

  And, after I’d yelped embarrassingly loudly, I figured out that it probably wasn’t a bear. It was a voice I knew. It was Leo, from the loos.

  NINETEEN

  Leo had jumped back when I cried out, probably not expecting to be taken for a ravenous zoo creature. I couldn’t turn around to look at him without being viciously stabbed by the thorns on the bushes I’d burrowed into, but I heard the leaves crackle as he stepped towards me again, and a hint of amusement in his voice.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just caught a glimpse of your top and climbed in here thinking it might be one of the kids from the playground. We’ve had to get runaways out of the trees before.’

  He was speaking in a slightly hushed tone, probably because hiding in a hedge had finally managed to cement my crazy-person status. As if the headpants hadn’t been bad enough.

  Next time, I’d just dig a pit and bury myself in it instead. ‘No, I’m fine. I mean, I haven’t lost anything. And I haven’t escaped from anywhere.’

  You know, except a straitjacket at the local Victorian asylum. I was almost glad he couldn’t see how flushed my face was.

  ‘So you just like to hang out in hedgerows?’ he asked. I could hear him kneeling down somewhere behind me. ‘Is it a communing-with-nature thing?’

  ‘Yeah. I mean, no. Not really.’ I tried to think of a good reason why I’d be communing with nature. Birdwatching? No – then he might expect me to actually know something about birds, when in fact I had difficulty breaking them into more complex categories than little and hoppy, or big and squawky. Or, worse, he’d just think I was the most boring person on the planet.

  ‘It’s just . . . peaceful, isn’t it?’ I started. ‘So it helps. With my . . . anger-management problem.’

  Mum says liars are always caught out by forgetfulness, but I remembered the lie I’d used before perfectly. Then again, most people’s lies don’t make them sound like they might have rage blackouts in their local branch of Homebase.

  ‘Oh, right. Of course.’

  I could hear a shuffling noise behind me, which I took to be the sound of a hasty retreat. I didn’t turn round to watch him leave. It wasn’t worth getting prickled by a thousand thorny branches just to catch my first glimpse of what Leo’s face looked like – not with the expression I was sure would be on it.

  Then something pressed up against my back. It was his back. He’d sat down and was leaning up against me.

  I was immediately hyper conscious of every little shift of our bodies. If he moved an arm I could feel his shoulder slide with it. He was really warm, like he’d just stepped out of a patch of sunshine. I sort of wished I wasn’t still wearing my hoody – I didn’t feel like being a turtle any more.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘Seeing if it works.’ He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘The peace and quiet. I’ve had a couple of crazy days too.’

  I could feel his back arch like he was reaching for something, before he added, ‘And I was looking for a place to have my lunch, if you don’t mind the company. Chicken?’

  A hand ducked backwards into my space, dangling a little white sandwich triangle. I knew I should probably have turned him down politely, since it was his lunch and everything, but my stomach had started doing backflips of hungry desire. I needed the sustenance.

  And I definitely didn’t mind the company either.

  ‘Um, thanks.’ I stuffed a good half of the sandwich into my mouth in one bite, still grateful that we couldn’t see each other and I didn’t have to worry about my chipmunk cheeks. It was a great sandwich too. A little bit spicy – not like Mum’s version, which tasted mostly of beige. ‘So, what’s been so crazy around here?’

  I could feel his shoulders lock up. It must have been bad. ‘Have you heard of the Park of the Year Award?’

  ‘You mean the one Starcross Sands has won three times? The thing that’s on all the leaflets and printed on a poster by the gates?’ I paused, then shrugged. ‘No, don’t think so.’

  He laughed, and I grinned to myself as a little of the tension in his back released. ‘I wish I’d never heard of it. We’re shortlisted for a fourth time, so there are undercover judges on the site, and the manager’s acting like winning is the kind of historic event that would put walking on the moon in the shade. We’re all being run into the ground with new rules. I got a written warning for helping someone the other day.’

  It was the first time I’d heard the warm, easy tone of his voice falter.

  ‘You got written up? It wasn’t for the . . . chewing gum . . .?’ I’d feel really guilty if something that had started out in my pocket might have got him in trouble, even if it technically happened via Troy.

  But he was already shaking his head. His dreads brushed against my shoulder. ‘No, it was the karaoke last night. According to the rules, the right thing to do would have been to alert security and stay out of the way while people pulped each other on the dance floor. I just couldn’t do that.’

  Oh, no. He was there? If he’d been around for the fight, then he couldn’t have missed my performance. The weird thing was, I’d been looking out for him too, a little bit, but I hadn’t seen a thing.

  ‘The karaoke.’ My voice had gone up in pitch enough that I could probably have hit the high notes I’d avoided last night. I coughed to try to get it back to normal. ‘Yeah, I think that was probably a bad night for everyone.’

  Jayden-Lee and that girl. Me and Kayla. That stupid hamster.

  ‘Even if it was just the part where they had to listen to me.’

  ‘Hey, I thought you were sounding pretty good until that fairy clocked you with the mic stand.’ I could feel his laughter bumping up against my spine. Somehow it didn’t make me feel awful, like Jayden-Lee laughing at me had. It actually made me laugh a bit too.

  ‘Well I’m glad someone enjoyed it. I thought it must have been as painful to listen to as it was to sing.’

  ‘No – it was different, that’s all. And you kept going, didn’t you?’ The aftershocks of Leo’s laughter were still chasing themselves across my skin in little shivers. ‘That’s the main thing. Or, I think so, anyway. Mum wasn’t too delighted when she heard about what happened though.’

  ‘Your mum was there?’ For a moment I was terrified I might have trampled her in the stampede. But Leo shook his head again.

  ‘No, she runs the Pie-O-Ria. She keeps them well behaved in there – just worries about me getting into trouble. If I’m not careful she’ll have me serving up slices with her, just to keep an eye on me. Can’t go too far wrong selling pizza.’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ I leaned back a little, until I could just make out his silhouette against the branches. ‘I think letting people order pineapple as a topping ought to count as a crime.’

  Leo snorted. ‘OK, that’s fair. Although speaking of crimes, I’d better get going. The worst one round here is being late. “You don’t win Park of the Year through tardiness, Leo Smith.”’

  From the high, snippy voice he put on for the last part, I could tell he was doing an impression of something said to him before.

  I almost decided to brave being torn to shreds by the thorny bush and twist round to look at him, then – before he could go, and take away my chance to find out what he looked like with him. Part of me really wanted to know. Well, a lot of me did. But it had been so much easier talking back to back, instead of face to face. So I just nodded, and let the tug of my shoulders answer him. ‘I’ll stay here a bit longer.’

  ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘Just until you’re sure you won’t rage out and karate kick a
bench.’

  I spluttered. How was I going to take that lie back without sounding even weirder? No, I love furniture. I cuddle my sofa every day.

  So I didn’t say anything until I heard him getting to his feet again. Then I tipped my head back until I could almost see him. His shadow was falling over my face. ‘Thanks for the sandwich. I think I might just have been hangry, after all. Now Starcross Sands will be spared my wrath.’

  ‘Remember to mention that on the customer service survey. I might get a bonus.’ He paused, as though he wanted to say more, but then I heard him treading his way carefully back through the branches. He was gone.

  Just in time to miss the sound of some bone-chilling screaming coming from inside the playground.

  TWENTY

  I leapfrogged back over the barrier so fast, I almost crashed face-first into the slide. Stumbling to a stop, I stood there panting and tried to figure out what was going on.

  It didn’t look like anyone was being murdered.

  Dad and the twins’ mum were ignoring the screams completely. They now had a swing each and seemed to be engaged in a very serious competition to be the first over the top bar. Jayden-Lee had vanished as suddenly as he’d arrived.

  Jude and the twins had formed a small circle around a bend in the miniature train tracks, where they ran across one corner of the playground. The noise I could hear seemed to be coming from somewhere in the middle of it.

  My heart had stopped trying to punch its way out through my ribs as soon as I’d seen that Jude was OK, but I dashed over anyway. It sounded like they were sawing somebody in half. Jude had seen a magician do that for his last birthday party, so it was always possible he’d try to recreate the stunt.

  ‘You’re not torturing anyone, are you?’ I asked, putting a hand on his arm.

  ‘Uh-uh.’ He moved back to let me see. ‘We’re playing.’