Mega Sleepover 2. Narinder Dhami

so were all the others. And the trouble was three of us have dogs. We started arguing straight away, as soon as Brown Owl had finished.

      “Buster’s so smart he’s bound to win,” said Lyndz. She’s got this weird little Jack Russell terrier, he’s absolutely mad. You should see him.

      “Dream on,” I said. “He’s not that smart and he won’t beat Pepsi. She’s so cute.”

      “Well,” said Rosie, “Jenny’s smart and she’s cute.”

      Which is true. Jenny’s a mongrel, but she’s got a lot of sheepdog in her. Her coat’s really shiny, black and white and she’s got a wonderful big tail. And she’s clever, too. So that made me mad. But Fliss made me even madder.

      “Well, you can’t all win,” she said, smiling.

      “Oh, very good,” I said. “Now tell us something we don’t know.”

      “I might win,” said Kenny.

      Kenny doesn’t have a dog, although she’d love one, but she’s had loads of other pets. She had a hamster once, and a rabbit, but they both died. And a cat called Tinkerbell, which ran away, and a bird called Bobby which flew out of the window, and a goldfish, which the cat ate before she ran away. She’s not had much luck so far.

      Now she’s got a big white rat called Merlin. She says he’s mega-intelligent and she’s training him, but he doesn’t seem to have learnt much! There’s something about the way Kenny lets him sit on her shoulder that gives me the heebie-jeebies.

      Kenny’s sister, Molly the Monster, shares a bedroom with Kenny and she hates rats, so Merlin has to live in the garage. I know Kenny’s my best friend and everything but, to be honest, I agree with Molly; I wouldn’t want to sleep in a room with a rat either.

      The Pet Show wasn’t only for dogs, of course, you could take other pets. On the poster it said there were prizes in each different class: hamsters, rabbits, cats, and lots of others, but there was no mention of rats!

      “It’s not fair,” said Kenny. “What about Merlin?”

      “Don’t worry, Laura,” said Brown Owl. “I’ll find out if rats are allowed.”

      So that just left Fliss, who was a real problem, because Fliss doesn’t have a pet at all, apart from her goldfish, Bubbles. And you can’t do much with a goldfish, can you?

      “It’s just not fair,” she said. “My mum’s so mean.”

      Fliss’s mum is not mean, she’s just mega house-proud.

      “You have loads of things we don’t have,” I reminded her. “You’ve got more clothes than Princess Di for a start.”

      “And toys…” said Lyndz.

      “And CDs…” said Kenny.

      “OK, OK, but I haven’t got a pet to take to the Pet Show and you lot have.”

      Which was true and we couldn’t seem to think of a way round it. Anyway, there was no point in us arguing about which one of us was going to win because we already knew who would. You didn’t have to be a genius to work that out.

      

      “The dreaded M&Ms,” said Kenny. We all made being-sick noises.

      It was lunchtime and we were sitting on the steps in the studio at school with just the spotlights on. We were supposed to be working on a dance routine for assembly but we were having a rest.

      “Why would they win?” said Rosie. She’s new to our school, so she doesn’t know all about the M&Ms yet.

      “Because they win everything,” said Fliss.

      Have I told you about the M&Ms? They’re in our class at school and, as if that isn’t bad enough, they go to Brownies as well. Their real names are Emma Hughes and Emily Berryman, but we call them the M&Ms. Or sometimes The Queen and The Goblin. I’ll tell you why:

      Emma Hughes is tall and soppy and really annoying, but she’s everybody’s favourite: our teacher’s, the headteacher’s, the dinner ladies’, Brown Owl’s, Snowy Owl’s…And all the boys like her. She always gets the best marks and gold stars and wins competitions like the Brownie Cook’s Challenge and gets picked to be milk monitor and take the register. She is so stuck up. That’s why we call her The Queen.

      Emily Berryman’s nearly as bad. She’s dead small, with big eyes and a deep, gruff voice, so we call her The Goblin. She always gets good marks and wins things too. We don’t know how they do it. We think it’s because they cheat, but we haven’t been able to prove it. Not yet, anyway.

      The worst thing about them is the way they whisper and giggle. They are seriously gruesome. The moment Brown Owl told us about the Pet Show they started giggling and behaving as if they’d already won.

      And the annoying thing is they probably will win. Emma Hughes has this dog that she’s always bragging about and Emily Berryman has a cat. We’ve never seen them, but we’ve heard plenty about them.

      The M&Ms are our worst enemies and the thing we hate most in the whole world, the whole universe in fact, is being beaten by them.

      “We’ve got to think of a way to stop them,” I said.

      “How?” said Lyndz. “I don’t think Pepsi and Buster stand much of a chance against Duchess of Drumshaw The Third and Sabrina Sprightly Dancing.”

      Can you believe those names? I didn’t make them up. I don’t suppose that’s what they call them everyday, when they take them out for walks or call them for their food. That would be too stupid, even for them. But those are their pedigree names and when they’re showing off that’s what they call them.

      “Pepsi’s a pedigree spaniel,” I said, “but she doesn’t have a stupid name like that.” She’s the best dog in the world and I love her to bits. She’s got a black curly coat and long ears that trail on the ground and the saddest eyes in the world. Sometimes she looks at me as if I’ve just eaten the last Rolo.

      I tell Pepsi everything and she tells me all her secrets. That’s how I know she wants puppies! But when I tried to tell Mum that, she said, “Francesca, for the last time, I have told you, the answer is NO! Pepsi is getting too old to have puppies.”

      “Yeah, even her ears are going grey,” said Kenny.

      “So?” I said.

      “Well, grey ears might stop her winning the Pet Show,” said Lyndz.

      “Hmm,” I said. “I can’t see High-Jumping Dog winning either.” That’s what we sometimes call Lyndz’s dog, Buster.

      He’s got these stumpy little legs, but he can jump up and reach a Smacko even when Lyndz holds it high over her head. It’s as if he’s got spring-loaded feet. And when he walks he looks like a little clockwork toy.

      “I suppose he is a bit wild,” Lyndz giggled.

      “Jenny’s our best hope of winning,” said Kenny. “Even though she’s a mongrel.”

      Rosie didn’t like Kenny calling Jenny a mongrel. “She’s mostly sheepdog,” she said. “She can do all sorts of tricks and she’s brilliant with Adam.”

      Adam is Rosie’s brother, he’s in a wheelchair.

      For ages Rosie wouldn’t let us go to her house and, like idiots, we thought it was because she felt embarrassed about Adam. Then we found out it was nothing to do with Adam, she was embarrassed because her house was such a tip. Actually, it’s not really a tip; it just needs decorating. Now she lets us go round all the time.

      Adam