Mega Sleepover 1. Rose Impey

we get a big salad bowl and mix all the leftovers together, hot dogs, crisps, jelly, the lot, and stir it up until it looks like a dog’s dinner. We call it Nappy’s Brains. We call it that because there’s a boy called Nathan, who lives next door to me, who we call Nappyhead, because he’s really stupid. But don’t let me get started on that subject or I’ll never finish this story.

      Usually we dare someone to eat it. I looked round and chose Kenny.

      “I dare you,” I said to her.

      “I double dare you,” she said to me.

      “I triple dare you,” I said to her.

      “Oh, that’s not fair,” said Lyndz. “It’s always Kenny has to do it.”

      “All right, I dare Rosie,” I said.

      Everyone went quiet because they thought it was mean to dare Rosie when she was still new. But I don’t see what difference that makes. Anyway she picked up the spoon and ate two heaped spoonfuls. We all collapsed on the floor gagging and pretending to be sick, but she just rolled her eyes and looked at us as if we were really weird. So that was another test she’d passed.

      After that it was time to go to bed. I’ve got quite a big bedroom with a bed and a set of bunks in it. And we’ve got a camp bed. So, when the sleepover’s at mine, all four of us can fit in.

      You see, I’m an only child, which is a very sore point in my house. I’ve just about given up trying to persuade my parents to have another baby, but I still don’t like it. They don’t seem to realise what a disadvantage it is to grow up an only child. So I think the least they can do is make it up to me by letting me have my friends round to stay whenever I want, which they usually do. So that’s pretty coo-el.

      But there wasn’t a bed for Rosie, so Kenny and I had to share my bed. This seemed like a great idea until she got the giggles and the fidgets, which always happens with Kenny. She also has the most freezing feet in the world!

      Because Rosie is new, she doesn’t have a sleepover kit like the rest of us, so Felicity showed her what she needed to get. We all have a bag and in it is:

      1. Sleeping bag

      2. Pillow

      3. Pyjamas or a nightdress, but

      they’re draughty and fly up and

      show your bottom when you do

      gymnastics

      4. Slippers

      5. Toothbrush, toothpaste, soap etc

      6. Towel

      7. Teddy

      8. A creepy story

      9. Food for a midnight feast:

      chocolate, crisps, sweeties,

      biscuits and any other yummy

      foods you can bring.

      10. A torch

      11. Hairbrush

      12. Hair things like a bobble or hairband, if you need them

      13. Clean knickers and socks. And a smelly bag for old ones!

      14. Sleepover diary

      For the wedding:

      15. Wedding clothes

      16. Camera

      17. Confetti

      We all keep a diary. Sometimes we read each other bits out of them, but they are absolutely private, on pain of death! We would never look in each other’s without permission. We write all our secret secrets in them. If you haven’t got any secrets, you can make them up. At least, that’s what I do.

      I wrote in mine: When I grow up I don’t want to be a pop star any more. I want to drive a taxi.

      I went in a taxi for the first time last week when we went to London. It was class.

      Kenny was writing loads in hers, all about what she’d learned about how babies are made. She read it out to us. Kenny’s going to be a doctor, like her dad, when she grows up. She says you have to be really tough to be a doctor. She loves anything with blood in it. And she knows all about babies and things. She wrote: I’m not going to have a baby, though. And I’m not getting married. I shall be far too busy saving lives.

      Felicity started to giggle. “I am,” she said. “I’m going to marry Ryan Scott and have lots of children and run a playgroup.”

      Ryan Scott is a boy in our class. Kenny made a being-sick noise.

      I said, “He’s the saddest thing on earth.”

      “Boys smell,” said Lyndz, wrinkling her nose. And Lyndz has four brothers, so she should know.

      “How do you like boys?” I asked Rosie.

      “In a sandwich,” she said, “with tomato ketchup and chips on the side.”

      “Yeah! good one,” I said.

      Suddenly thinking about chips made us all feel hungry. It wasn’t midnight yet, but we decided to have our midnight feast. I sneaked downstairs to get a big bowl and we put everything in it. There was fizzy rock, Black Jacks, Fruit Salads, chewy dinosaurs, jelly babies, a Snickers bar, and a bag of cheese and onion crisps. We passed it round and started talking about Brownies.

      “It’s no fun any more,” said Kenny.

      It’s true. It used to be supercool, but it’s boring these days.

      “Brown Owl’s always in a razz.”

      “She used to be really nice,” said Lyndz.

      “It’s because she’s fallen out with her boyfriend,” said Fliss. “Auntie Jill told me.” Fliss’s Auntie Jill is Snowy Owl, that’s how she knows so much. “She told my mum Brown Owl might give up running Brownies because she just doesn’t feel interested in anything any more.”

      “That’s a shame,” said Lyndsey. “I feel—”

      “Really sorry for her!” we all chimed in.

      “Well, I do! It’s horrid when somebody gets dumped.”

      “You should see my mum,” said Rosie. “Since my dad left, she looks much happier.”

      But you could tell by the way she said it that Rosie wasn’t happy. We knew she was missing her dad, but we didn’t know what to say to cheer her up.

      It was half past twelve and there was nothing left to eat. We were lying in the dark with our torches on, starting to get dozy. We were trying hard to stay awake. After all, the whole idea of sleepover is not to go to sleep.

      Lyndz is always the first to drop off. We could hear her sucking her thumb. Then Fliss started sniffing, which she always does, so Kenny and I played pass the sniff. We do it at school in silent reading, it drives Mrs Weaver mad. Then Rosie joined in, which made me and Kenny giggle. Suddenly Kenny sat up in bed. She’d had this idea.

      “Why don’t we find her a new boyfriend?” she said.

      “Who?” said Rosie.

      “Brown Owl, of course.”

      “How would we do that?” I said. I meant, where would you look? There isn’t exactly a shop to go to.

      “Well, there must be someone out there,” said Kenny.

      “Mmm,” Rosie agreed.

      I was just dropping off, which is the time when I get most of my brilliant ideas. “What about Dishy Dave?” I said, yawning.

      “Who’s Dishy Dave?” said Rosie.

      But I was too tired to explain. “Tell you … in the… morn… ing,” I said, and fell asleep.