The Bravest Kid I've Ever Known and Other Naughty Stories for Good Boys and Girls (3 page)

And then it came to him! A way of going to the dance, a way of making people laugh, and yet not having to invite anybody!

It was a trick, in a way.

A perfect trick.

Jimmy kept his idea a complete secret, until at last the big night came.

The dance was held in the local hall, which was lucky because Jimmy lived right next door. It helped his trick. As Jimmy kissed his mum goodbye, she asked who he’d invited.

‘Oh, just someone,’ said Jimmy. ‘I’m meeting her there.’

‘Have a good time,’ said his mum. ‘And be home by nine.’

‘OK,’ said Jimmy.

By the look on Jimmy’s face, his mum could tell he was up to something.

Jimmy sneaked around the back of the hall and peeked through the window. The hall was crowded already, which was just what he wanted.

Mrs Cleary was there, bossing everyone around. She’d worn one of those dresses ladies wear to dances where you can see some of their boobies. And Mrs Cleary had big boobies.
Jimmy thought he might throw up.

The music was going, too, but no-one was dancing. Everyone was too nervous. Boys stood in groups saying how ugly all the girls were, and girls stood in groups saying what a bunch of nerds the boys were.

And suddenly there was someone on the dance floor. Someone with a most unusual-looking girl. A skinny girl whose legs were so thin they seemed to dangle in the air. And a stupid smile that never changed.

But she danced well enough, because every move the boy made, she went with him, in perfect time. Who was it? Who were these first people on the dance floor? People crowded closer.

It couldn’t be!
It was!

Jimmy Jones was out there, dancing as if he could never remember having such fun.
With a life-size doll.

‘My, you dance well,’ shouted Jimmy above the music.

‘Thank you,’ said the doll.

Jimmy had been secretly practising how to speak without his lips moving.

‘Knock, knock,’ said the doll.

‘Who’s there?’ said Jimmy.

‘Owen!’

‘Owen who?’

‘Oh, when are you going to kiss me?’ said the doll.

‘Not now,’ said Jimmy. ‘There are people watching.’

‘That’s not the reason,’ said the doll. ‘You think I’m ugly, don’t you? I heard you the other day. You said you’d seen better heads on a hammer.’

‘Yeah, but I’ve seen a lot of hammers,’ said Jimmy.

‘Oh, I hate you!’ yelled the doll. And with that, Jimmy made it look as though the doll was trying to punch his lights out.

Whack, bang, thump!

So, Jimmy grabbed the doll in a headlock, wrestled her from side to side and dragged her screaming out of the room.

Well, the crowd loved it. They clapped and cheered and yelled for more. But Jimmy didn’t come back with the doll. His dad had always taught him to quit while he was ahead.

As well as being funny, Jimmy’s little act had made everyone relax. And suddenly, the music sounded good, the chatter started and people began to dance.

Soon someone came back on to the floor to dance. Jimmy. With Alice Stephens, the best-looking girl in school. She had gone looking for Jimmy straight after his act and insisted he dance with her.

She just loved his show, she said. She’d always wanted to know an actor and now she’d met a real live one. It was only a matter of time, thought Alice, before Jimmy would be a movie star.

Jimmy couldn’t believe it. Talking to Alice Stephens was so cool, and she was being nice! He realised he did like girls after all.

Jimmy had never really thought about being an actor before. Sure, he liked to muck around, but not seriously. But if Alice Stephens said he was good, then he must be.

So, Jimmy started acting lessons two nights a week.

These days, Jimmy’s quite a good little actor. He does stuff all the time with the local theatre group, and he’s even done a couple of bits in TV commercials. For money. And girls follow him everywhere.

If that’s unlucky, I want my share.

Tracy was a nasty girl. A very nasty girl. Everyone hated her. Which just made her worse, of course.

Don’t think the other kids hadn’t tried being nice to her. They had. Like the time Alice Johnson asked Tracy if she wanted to join in a game of lunchtime netball.

‘With you idiots?’ said Tracy. ‘Rather play with razor blades.’

The next day, Alice saw Tracy hanging around by herself again, so she thought,
I’ll try just one more time.

‘Want to play?’ Alice asked.

‘Yeah, OK,’ said Tracy. She walked over, picked up the netball and kicked it over the school fence and onto the freeway.

‘Let’s play my game,’ said Tracy. ‘It’s called “get the ball without being hit by a truck”.’

Some of the bigger kids had thought about giving Tracy a Chinese burn, or perhaps a wedgie. But Tracy was tough. And she fought dirty. So, for the time being, everyone decided just to wait and hope she got better.

But she didn’t.

Two weeks later was Alice’s birthday and she decided to have a party. She asked her best friends, Sally and Jasmine, but after that she couldn’t decide what to do — whether to ask just a few more girls, or the whole class.

Deciding who to ask to a party is always hard. Especially if there’s a couple of girls who are halfway between being friends and jerks. Trouble was, if Alice asked the whole class, that meant inviting stinking Tracy. Alice was too nice to exclude anyone, even her. In the end, she decided to ask everybody.

When I say everybody, I mean just the girls, of course. The boys were a pack of bogans.

Everyone said yes, except guess who?

‘You can stick your stupid party up your jumper,’ said Tracy. ‘Hope you all choke on the cake.’

And that wasn’t all Tracy said. As the day got closer, kids started to get excited. The party seemed to be the only thing they talked about. And that made Tracy angry. So, one afternoon, Tracy went over to Sally and Jasmine and said she was surprised they were still going to the party — especially after what Alice had said.

‘What do you mean?’ they asked.

‘Well,’ said Tracy, ‘I heard Alice whispering to some girls the other day that the only reason she asked the whole class is because her friends were so boring. “Imagine a party with just Sally and Jasmine,” she said. “Rather watch grass grow.”’

Sally and Jasmine couldn’t believe it. Surely Alice would never say something like that? They decided to check.

The trouble was, Tracy had already told Alice that Sally and Jasmine were complaining that it would be a real losers’ party, because the whole class was going.

So, when Sally and Jasmine asked Alice why she’d asked everybody, things got really messed up and they had a terrible argument. All because of Tracy’s lies.

In fact, Tracy had told some sort of lie to just about every kid in the school.

Things got so bad that it eventually became the party that never was. Alice called the whole thing off with only a day to go. I can’t remember how long Alice cried for. Days. Tracy laughed for even longer.

And so it was. For a whole year. Tracy became even nastier and Alice felt as if she didn’t have a single friend in the whole world. Ever since the messed-up party, she’d decided it was safer to keep to herself.

Until one night, when Alice was walking home alone, and she saw three girls coming towards her.

Oh, no!
thought Alice.
The Three Stooges.

The Three Stooges were the Blacker Triplets — the toughest girls Alice had ever known. They all went to Oakmoor School, and the one thing Oakmoor kids loved to do was bash up kids from Alice’s school, Chadstone.

And here was Alice
all by herself!

‘Oh, cool,’ said one of the Stooges. ‘A Chadstone suck. Let’s bash her.’

‘A Chadstone what?’ said a voice from behind. Alice turned and there, coming around the corner looking as nasty as she’d ever looked in her life, was Tracy.

‘I said a Chadstone suck,’ repeated one of the Stooges. ‘Make that two Chadstone sucks.’

‘Rather be a Chadstone suck than an Oakmoor jerk,’ said Tracy. ‘Look at you. Like three monkeys. Make that monkeys’ bums.’

Oh, no!
thought Alice.

Well, the Blackers weren’t quite sure what to do. No-one had ever spoken to them like that before! They didn’t know whether to bash Tracy first, or last, or bash them both together.

‘I hate you Blackers,’ said Tracy, ‘and I’ve been busting for a chance to thump the lot of you. But I’ll take you in order. Toughest first. Come on!’

The Blackers looked at each other. Never in their lives had anyone actually asked them for a fight, and certainly no-one had asked for the toughest. Who was the toughest?

While they decided, Tracy danced around practising karate kicks and cracking her knuckles.

And all of a sudden it seemed the Blackers were having trouble deciding who should fight Tracy.

Perhaps no-one was the toughest.

‘Boo!’ shouted Tracy, moving towards them.

‘Aaah!’ screamed the Blackers. And whoosh, they were gone. Off down the street like frightened rabbits.

‘Oh, Tracy,’ said Alice. ‘How can I ever thank you?’