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  Christie casts a spell over every class we’re in. She hogs the spotlight and makes everybody forget about me. Nobody talks to me unless they really have to. And I don’t talk to anybody unless they talk to me first, so I get on with doing my work. I’m bright but I’m not a genius. I just don’t have anybody distracting me.’ If Christie didn’t waste her time chatting to her friends, she might get her work done too.

  If our class is the solar system, she’s the sun. That makes me Pluto. I feel sorry for Pluto. It used to be a planet but now it can’t hang out with the others. It’s just a rock floating in space. I know how that feels. I’m just a meteorite floating around here at school.

  It’s Monday morning and Mr Clark’s marking the roll. He presses his lips and nods at me. He’s only been my teacher for a month and he doesn’t even say my name anymore, in case Christie Owens turns around and starts yacking. I keep my head down, staring at my blue skinny pencil tin with anime characters. Auntie Mayly bought it for me, when we went shopping for my birthday last year. I still don’t know what I want for my eleventh birthday and it’s next month.

  Mr Clark gives the roll to Sam and Zoe. ‘All right, 6C, does anybody have any news?’

  We always start the day with students sharing any news. I call it the Christie Owens Show.

  Right on cue, Christie stands up. ‘It’s my birthday in two weeks.’ There’s a giggle from Liana and Charlotte, her besties who sit with her in the back corner.

  I sigh. Not only is Christie’s name before mine on the roll, she also beats me with birthdays.

  She goes around the class, handing out dark red envelopes. ‘I’m having a party at my place.’

  ‘Can’t this wait until recess?’ Mr Clark says.

  ‘Sorry, Sir, but this is very, very important news about a special event.’ Christie swerves her way to the front near me. I want to shrink myself and hide under my table. She flicks through a pile of red envelopes and one slips through her hands, landing on my table. Huh? I feel light and fluffy all over, like egg whites being whisked in a bowl. I go to pick it up but Christie Owens swipes the envelope from under my nose.

  ‘Oops.’ She gives it to Mackenzie, beside me. ‘Hope you can make it.’

  She quickly walks past me. My heart shrivels up like a dried fig. It feels like there’s only room for one Christy in my class, my school, maybe the whole solar system. She spreads her sunshine smile across the room. She really is a sun and I’m left out in the cold again.

  The lunchtime bell rings and Christie Owens runs out of class with Liana and Charlotte. They’re all wearing pink glittery bracelets. The only pink things I have are my rosy cheeks. I wish I could dress more like the other girls in my class. When we go clothes shopping, Grandpa heads straight to the boys section. He thinks shorts and shirts look better on me. I think it’s because they’re cheaper, but I like running around in them anyway.

  I think Grandpa always wanted a son. He had Mum and Auntie Mayly. Now he’s got me. Don’t get me wrong, he did a good job of taking care of me in Cambodia, but we had a lot of help from Grandpa’s close friends, Uncle Hung and Auntie Nhi, along with their three kids who became my honorary older cousins. Grandpa tries his best to protect me now, but I wish he would back off a little. I feel like he wraps me in cling wrap, pops me into a ziplock plastic bag and then into another airtight container. He means well but I can’t breathe when he’s around sometimes.

  I walk straight to the Quiet-time Quad with my lunch and my book, looking for an empty bench to sit on. It might be a quiet area but my thoughts are thumping between my ears. Why don’t I have any proper friends? When I first came I was in ESL classes with Mrs Thomas almost every day, learning English. Kids would talk behind my back but I didn’t understand what they were saying anyway. I did find out eventually, and it wasn’t worth the wait. No friends. Nigel. Weird. I did try to make friends in my ESL class but everybody formed groups by themselves, and I just missed the boat, spaceship or whatever you call it.

  There’s a bench out in the sun, but it’s another hot day and I don’t want to melt into my book. I spot Christie, Liana and Charlotte on a bench under the shade of a tree. There’s room for one more on the edge. Should I ask them if I can sit down? They probably won’t notice me anyway.

  I wipe my forehead and walk over to the giggling girls. I clear my throat. ‘Um, hello,’ I squeak. My voice gets lost in the breeze like a leaf. I try again. ‘Hey …’

  Christie looks up at me.

  ‘What is it?’ she says.

  She’s twirling her butterscotch hair with two fingers. I’d love to grow mine past my shoulders like hers, but Grandpa thinks that nits like long hair. I find myself wishing Christie would get nits so she’d be forced to cut her hair, but I push that bad thought aside and take a deep breath.

  ‘Is that spot taken?’ I point to the edge of the bench. ‘I just want to finish my lunch and read my book.’

  Christie and Liana look at each other, letting their eyebrows do the talking.

  Christie turns to me. ‘You can sit there if you want.’

  Liana huffs and holds her arms.

  ‘Thanks.’ I sit down and the girls shuffle a little closer together. It’s the first time Christie’s really noticed me. Maybe I should try talking to her more often. Then she might see that I’m not that weird.

  I open my book and start reading. Teachers tell me that I’ve picked up English really quickly. That’s because I learnt a little English back in Cambodia. Plus I have so much time to read. I’m always asking the librarian, Miss Howlett, for new books.

  I take out some cling wrap and cover my fingers, just like Grandpa taught me, then grab my sandwich and bite into it. The girls start giggling beside me. I try to read and eat, but Christie keeps cracking up between every bite.

  They’re always cracking up about how weird I am. I give them plenty of ammo, like when I clean my table and chair with wet wipes.

  I turn around. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Huh?’ Christie covers her smartphone. ‘We’re just watching some videos.’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ I look around the quad. If a teacher saw them playing on a phone at recess, they would be so busted. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone …’

  ‘Thanks,’ Christie says.

  ‘Stop being a sticky beak,’ Liana snaps. She looks at my cling-wrapped fingers. ‘Ewww, that is disgusting. No wonder you’re a loner.’

  It feels like I’ve been stung by a hive of wasps, because I can feel my face swelling up. I still remember how our Year Four class used to eat our lunch outside, underneath a tree like this, though I would always be off by myself. It started raining and everyone ran back to class. But I didn’t see them and kept eating my lunch in the rain. I had no friends to tell me to go back inside. Our teacher, Mrs Bertolli, had to fetch me and I went inside with her, dripping wet. Christie just cracked up, then everyone else did too.

  I feel like Christie put a curse on me, because I’ve never had a real friend since then. Kids like Mackenzie only ask me for the time or what to do for homework. I’d let them copy my homework if they’d be my friends. I just want someone I can talk to, someone to share jokes and secrets. I was surrounded by my cousins back in Cambodia, but that was different.

  Christie stares at me. ‘Just give her a break, Liana,’ she whispers. ‘It’s not her fault.’ Whoa. Did Christie just stick up for me or is she about to make a joke? I don’t wait around to find out.

  I quickly pack away my things and run to the toilets. I cut through a line of kids who are holding pieces of rubbish and following a teacher around. They’re playing Pick Up Five again. Kids pick up five pieces of rubbish and race back to the teacher. When I first got here, it looked like fun but there’s no way I would ever pick up rubbish.

  Besides, Grandpa would have killed me if I ever played Pick Up Five. He packs my bag with wet wipes, tissues and emergency gloves. I use the wet wipes and tissues, but I’m not bringing out the gloves. That woul
d be too weird, even for me.

  After I wash my hands, I walk around the playground. I need to get my mind off those girls. I try to find the other meteorites, kids who don’t belong in any group. I find Rose hanging out with some girls in her Year One class. It’s nice to see that she has some company today.

  ‘Hi, Rose.’

  ‘Hello.’ She holds up her teddy bear and makes it wave. ‘Ruskin says hello too.’

  I’ve stopped asking why Ruskin has no head. Rose doesn’t seem to care, nor does anybody else. I follow the fence along the oval, and spot Richard from 2B digging holes out the back. He’s playing with a bunch of other dusty boys who play with cars but he’s in his own little world. Sometimes they give him a car if they feel sorry for him.

  ‘Hey, Richard,’ I say.

  ‘Hello, Christy.’ Richard scratches the dirt with his stick and it flicks up on my legs. ‘I’m making a big ramp for the cars.’

  The other boys have their backs turned, having their own adventure. I think Richard will have the ramp all to himself. The dirt here is packed so hard that he’s hardly scratched the surface yet.

  ‘Cool,’ I say. ‘I’m sure it will be brilliant.’ I walk away before I get anymore dirt on me.

  I have just enough time to see Eleanor in the library. She loves to read books by herself, just like me. I flop down into the beanbag beside her. ‘What are you reading, Eleanor?’

  Her eyes are still on the page. ‘The new Fairy Magic book.’

  I listen to Eleanor tell me about the story. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t squeeze Christie out of my head. She keeps creeping back in. I bet I was the only person who didn’t get an invite to her birthday party.

  But then she actually spoke to me today. She let me sit on the bench. Plus she stood up for me.

  What does Christie really think about me? Maybe there’s another Christie nobody knows about.

  Maybe I should talk to Auntie Mayly about it tonight. I always feel better when I’m with her, especially when we’re baking.

  FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IN THE OTHER CHRISTY

  Oliver Phommavanh is a committed writer ambassador for Room to Read, a dynamic global organization transforming the lives of millions of children in low-income communities by focusing on literacy and gender equality in education.

  Founded in 2000 on the belief that World Change Starts with Educated Children®, Room to Read’s innovative model focuses on deep, systemic transformation within schools during the two time periods that are most critical in a child’s schooling: early primary school for literacy acquisition and secondary school for girls’ education.

  Room to Read works in collaboration with local communities, partner organizations and governments to develop literacy skills and a habit of reading among primary school children, and to ensure girls can complete secondary school with the skills necessary to negotiate key life decisions. Room to Read has benefited over 16 million children across more than 30,000 communities in 16 countries.

  As Oliver says, ‘Books can open doors to other worlds and lifelong opportunities. Room to Read helps empower children to reach their potential. As a passionate reader, I’m proud to support a worthy cause that spreads the joy of books. I love how Room to Read supports local authors and illustrators to inspire children in their own language.’

  For more information about Room to Read, visit www.roomtoread.org

  OLIVER PHOMMAVANH is an author, comedian and used to be a teacher. He still has dreams of being a dinosaur someday. He loves inspiring kids to write and be funny like him – all around Australia and Asia.

  Oliver is burger crazy – searching out the best at home and wherever he travels. See them on his Insta, oliverwinfree! He also loves playing Nintendo games like Pokemon and Zelda. His hero is Sonic the Hedgehog and he collects geeky sneakers. His favourite ice cream flavour is bubblegum with Nerds and marshmallows mashed in. Just because.

  Visit Oliver at his website: oliverwriter.com

  Oliver is also a committed ambassador for Room to Read, an innovative global non-profit that seeks to transform the lives of millions of children in ten developing countries through its holistic Literacy and Girls’ Education programs. See more at roomtoread.org

  Books by Oliver Phommavanh

  Thai-riffic!

  Con-nerd

  Punchlines

  Thai-no-mite!

  Ethan (Stuff Happens series)

  A Lot of Stuff Happens (Stuff Happens series)

  The Other Christy

  Super Con-nerd

  Natural Born Loser

  Don’t Follow Vee

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia

  India | New Zealand | South Africa | China

  Penguin Random House Australia is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

  First published by Puffin Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd, in 2019

  Text Copyright © Oliver Phommavanh 2019

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, published, performed in public or communicated to the public in any form or by any means without prior written permission from Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd or its authorised licensees.

  Design by Evi O Studio/Susan Le © Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd Illustrations by Evi O Studio/Susan Le

  Author photograph by Stephen John Walton

  ISBN 9781742538570

  penguin.com.au

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