Natural Born Loser Page 9

  Gina runs over for a hug. ‘Look at our lazy straw.’

  It’s longer than their class line. Zain whistles. ‘You could sip a slurpee from the other side of the school.’

  ‘Don’t give her any ideas,’ I say.

  Gina’s teacher, Mrs Pascoe lets Zain take a photo of the straw with Gina.

  Class 4G is out on the play equipment. They’re all crowded around Naveed who is staring at the monkey bars. He’s dressed like a ninja, decked out in a black marital arts uniform.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Ally says.

  ‘We’re playing ninja playground warrior,’ Naveed says. ‘Whoever can get through the playground quickest is the champion.’

  ‘Are you ready?’ Mrs Gould is holding her stopwatch. ‘Go!’

  We watch Naveed swing through the monkey bars, climb up the ladder and dash onto the wooden bridge. He tries to run up the slippery slide but slides down.

  Naveed’s class is cheering for him.

  Naveed rubs his sweaty hands behind him and goes for another run. This time he reaches the top. He holds his hands up in the air. ‘Yahhhhh!’

  Our school has become a Dareathon circus. There are kids who have been dared to moo like a cow for the whole day, finish a whole jar of green olives in two minutes, and one class was blowing bubbles, trying to fill up the room with them.

  Teachers are in on the craziness too. Mrs Huynh is singing her lessons in opera, wearing a thick furry coat and looking very red in the face. We finally get to Mr Lovett’s class but they’re out on the oval, standing in a circle. Russell Carney is in the middle of the circle with a footy in his hands.

  ‘Come on, Russell, we haven’t got all day,’ Mr Lovett says.

  Russell kicks the ball towards a skip bin on the other side of the oval. The ball hovers in the air for what seems like forever before it lands in the bin with a clang.

  The whole class roars. ‘Ru-ssell, Ru-ssell, Ru-ssell.’ Russell uppercuts in the air.

  I walk up to him. ‘Wow, was that your dare?’

  ‘Yep, Howard sponsored me to do it,’ he says.

  ‘How much did you raise?’ Randa says.

  ‘Five cents,’ Russell snarls.

  Randa slaps her forehead. ‘What a waste of time.’

  ‘Exactly, I just wanted to muck around.’ Russell laughs. ‘Thanks for the excuse.’

  ‘I’ll sponsor you.’ I dig into my pocket for two bucks and hand it to him.

  ‘Huh?’ Zain says. ‘Are you crazy, Raymond?’

  Russell shrugs. ‘Cool. I’ll just use it to buy something at the canteen, Nobody.’

  ‘I don’t think you will,’ I say. ‘Not in front of your whole class.’

  The kids in 6L call out ‘Ooooo’.

  Russell smiles. ‘I guess you’re smarter than you look, Nobody.’

  Mr Lovett walks over to us. ‘What’s going on?’

  Randa jumps in. ‘Just getting a photo, Sir.’

  Russell poses with his football.

  We walk back to class. ‘You’ve got guts, Raymond,’ Randa says.

  ‘Well, it was good to see him do a dare,’ I say.

  Zain stops in front of me and I bump into him. ‘But he thought it was a joke.’

  ‘Yeah, but at least he didn’t try to wreck our plans this time,’ I say. ‘If we can get Russell on our side, his friends and probably all the other bullymons will follow him.’

  ‘He’s the enemy, remember?’ Zain snaps. ‘His bullymon level is over 9000!’

  ‘But he’s also part of Barryjong and we represent him as well.’

  ‘All this walking backwards has got you thinking backwards too.’ Zain storms off to get a drink.

  He needs more than a drink. He needs a bucket of water over his head to cool down. I’m only trying to help out here.

  At lunchtime, Ally and a few of her friends are doing the Dareathon danceathon. They’re all dressed in neon pink costumes and have set up a round stage in the middle of the shelter. Ally presses play on her stereo system and some pop tunes blast out of the speakers. Ally moves around the circle like she’s the announcer at a concert. ‘Feel free to join us, everyone!’

  A few little kids dance around the edges to the music, but they tire out after five minutes. The half-time bell rings and Ally’s sweating like crazy. She grabs a water bottle, drinking it in between some high kicks. Her friends are too tired to keep going. It’s all on Ally now.

  I leap into the circle and face the opposite way to Ally, swerving my shoulders left to right. It’s the best I can do when my shirt is backwards. I start tapping my feet along with the beat.

  ‘I can’t help it,’ I say to the crowd. ‘I’ve come down with disco fever.’

  It’s something Dad’s suffered from for years.

  Randa jumps in too, trying hard to copy Ally’s moves. ‘I might as well get a free dance lesson,’ Randa says. ‘A future prime minister needs to learn how to bust a few moves.’

  Zain suddenly joins Ally on the other side of the stage. He raises his hands in the air, wooing a crowd. ‘Come on, everyone, make some noise for the dancing queen, Ally Syn!’

  We get a few kids clapping.

  Zain jumps up and down. ‘I can’t hear you, Barryjong, let’s start an earthquake here. Stomp your feet, clap your hands, cheer for your lives!’ He’s busting out a few dance moves too.

  Suddenly, we’re caught inside the middle of a tornado of clapping and screaming. The bell rings and Ally finishes off with a somersault.

  ‘I’m not doing that,’ Randa says. ‘My back is hurting from just watching it.’

  Ally glugs down a full water bottle. ‘Thanks for being my backup dancers.’

  ‘For a minute there, I thought we were going to be your prop-up dancers,’ I say.

  ‘Nah, this was nothing. My mum runs dance classes that go for two hours non-stop,’ Ally says.

  Randa laughs. ‘Now there’s some more ideas for the next one.’

  ‘Yeah, we want another Dareathon,’ Naveed yells from the crowd. There are more kids nodding around him. It’s great to see everyone having fun together and wanting to do more fundraising. I think we might have finally tapped into Barryjong Primary’s new school spirit. We may be crazy, but we’re all united in our craziness.

  The next day, Mr Humble is still wearing his rainbow wig during morning assembly.

  ‘The Dareathon was so much fun, Mrs Huynh and the other teachers double-dared me to wear this all week.’ He wiggles his head. ‘But I want to thank Raymond and the prefects who came up with this idea.’

  ‘Go, Raymond!’ Gina shrieks from the front.

  ‘Ray-mond … Ray-mond …’ A chant rises up and everyone’s saying my name again. It’s just like my dream where I’m playing for the Wizards. I wave at the kids and the kids clap even louder.

  ‘Don’t forget, you have a week to collect the money from your sponsors,’ Mr Humble says.

  We walk back to class, and everyone I see wants to give me a high five. I slap all their hands. I don’t care about how many germs I catch. One girl from Year Three grabs my arm.

  ‘You should be captain,’ she says. ‘I would vote for you.’

  ‘Um, thanks, but we don’t have any captains.’

  The others around her start to cheer and chant again, but Zain cuts them off. ‘Just because this Dareathon was your idea, doesn’t mean you get to be the captain …’

  ‘I didn’t say anything,’ I say.

  ‘Is that why you’re so friendly with Russell now?’ Zain says. ‘Think you can win him over so he can support you being captain?’

  I flick his shirt. ‘Hey, you’re the guy who’s always on about wanting to be captain. We’re all just prefects!’

  Zain walks up until he’s right in my face, snarling at me. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s so close, he could bite my nose off. ‘Don’t forget, I was the one who told you to try out for prefect. You would be nothing without me!’

  ‘I would have tried out an
yway,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, right, you were just a … nobody,’ Zain says.

  I clutch my stomach. It hurts enough when Russell says it, but Zain’s words are like a soccer ball to the guts. ‘At least I want Barryjong to be better. All you care about is soccer.’

  ‘I thought you did too.’ Zain kicks an empty water bottle into the wall. ‘I thought you’d have supported me to fundraise for a new soccer field.’

  ‘I’m not a soccer superstar like you,’ I say. ‘Sometimes I wonder why we’re even friends …’

  Zain flicks my prefect badge. ‘Same here. You’ve changed, man.’

  He storms off. I don’t follow him this time.

  I’m trying to do my homework in my room but I can’t think straight. Not in this heat. Not when I have Zain on my brain.

  Dad arrives home with a page full of sponsors for Gina and me. ‘Every mechanic at the repair centre got right behind it. Quite a few of them went to Barryjong too.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ I say, grabbing my soccer ball. ‘Can we have a quick game?’ I say.

  ‘Sure thing, buddy.’

  A bit of soccer should clear my head. I pass the ball around with Dad but it feels like I’m kicking a bowling ball.

  Dad has his hands on hips. ‘Something up, Raymond?’

  I turn away from him. ‘Yeah, I had a fight with Zain. He’s still crazy about wanting to be a captain, even though Mr Humble just wants us all as prefects.’

  ‘Have you asked him why he wants to be one so badly?’ Dad says.

  I scratch my head. ‘Um, no.’

  Should I dare myself to ask him? Nah, it would be a waste of time. He could easily find a better soccer buddy, like Bilal.

  Dad beats me 5–2, and I reckon he was going easy on me too. I must have left my soccer skills back at school. After our game, we come back inside to wash up. Dad heads straight to the shower, but not before he throws another pair of undies in the freezer.

  Mum’s in the hallway, holding a small bucket.

  ‘Hey, Raymond.’ She jiggles the bucket. ‘I had my own Dareathon at work today.’

  ‘What did you do?’ I say.

  ‘I didn’t do anything. I dared Mr Monk to wear a bright pink tie with cupcakes and strawberries on it,’ Mum says.

  I yawn. ‘Sounds a bit lame.’

  ‘Not when you’re the boss of a company who tailors executive business suits,’ Mum says. ‘He lasted the whole day without taking it off, despite a few very strange looks.’

  I stagger to the living room and sit down on the couch.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I say. ‘Every little bit counts.’

  She sits next to me, tilting her head. ‘Tough day at school?’

  ‘Yeah, kinda,’ I mutter.

  ‘Is there a troublemaker on your back?’ Mum stares at me. ‘Blink twice for yes, once for no.’

  I twitch my nose and turn away. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

  ‘Well, I’m here if you need me.’ Mum touches my shoulder. ‘I may be a PP, but it’s you and Gina first and Barryjong second.’

  ‘PP?’ I say.

  ‘Prefect Parent,’ Mum says. ‘I’m just following you, Raymond.’

  Mum grabs her bucket and walks off. I can still hear her jiggling the bucket down the hallway.

  It’s funny how Mum puts Gina and me first, before our school. I look up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what’s really important to me.

  The next morning, I find Zain on the soccer field. He hasn’t started a game yet. He’s kicking the ball around with the little kids. Felix lobs the ball over Zain’s head.

  Zain fetches the ball. ‘Nice try, man.’

  ‘I want to be a star like you,’ he says.

  I know how Felix, Lucas and all the other kids feel. Zain’s always been a legend to me too.

  He doesn’t stop to say hi but walks past me without looking me in the eye. ‘Why don’t you just go play touch footy with Russell?’

  ‘I didn’t bring my helmet and body armour,’ I say. ‘Getting tackled by Russell is like getting hit by a cement truck.’ I point to the kids. ‘Want to start a game?’

  ‘No. I’m teaching the little kids some skills,’ Zain says. ‘It’s time for me to raise up the future soccer stars here, before I leave Barryjong.’

  ‘I thought all you cared about was yourself,’ I say.

  ‘Well, you and Randa got into my head,’ Zain says. ‘You’re both full of such clever ideas. Even Ally’s really good with creative stuff. And me? Take me out of the soccer field and I’m like a fish on dry land.’

  ‘Come on, Zain, you’re more like a shark on rocket skates,’ I say. ‘You have more energy than all of us combined.’

  I take out my sheet of leadership tips from my pocket.

  ‘Remember this? The last tip is to learn something new about people.’ I clear my throat. ‘So, why do you want to be a captain so much?’

  Zain turns to the kids and passes the ball to them. He takes out a worn woolly hacky sack from his pocket and starts kicking it in the air. ‘You know my big brother?’

  ‘Yes, well, not really.’ I look down. ‘I don’t know anything about him, not even his name.’

  ‘His name is Okine,’ Zain says. ‘He’s a better soccer player than me.’

  ‘I bet he taught you everything you know about soccer,’ I say.

  ‘Well, when I was living in Ghana, I used to play with his friends.’ Zain uses his knees to keep the hacky sack in the air. ‘He was the school captain at his high school.’

  ‘Wow, I had no idea.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s why he decided to stay back in Ghana, with my uncle and aunty. And he has a shot to become the captain of the under 20s national soccer team. He could be playing in the World Cup one day!’ He kicks the hacky sack over to me. ‘He gave me this on the day I left Ghana. I still remember what he said to me. He told me “Zain, you will be Ghana’s giant in Australia, make me proud.”’

  Zain’s eyes are like kites that could be swept up into the sky. ‘That’s why I wanted to follow him and become a great leader too.’

  I had no idea Zain was being a follower, like me. I pick up the hacky sack and kick it back to him.

  Zain taps the hacky sack skilfully from one ankle to the other. ‘Out of all the schools in Australia, I had to be stuck in one without leaders. But then Mr Humble came along and I thought I had my chance.’

  ‘You’re still a prefect,’ I say.

  ‘I told Okine that when I skyped him, but he told me to try to convince Mr Humble to make me captain.’ Zain passes the hacky sack to me. ‘I was desperate to go for a new soccer field and equipment to show off to Okine.’

  ‘Well, I guess the fundraising I pushed for was for my family too.’ I smile. ‘I wanted air con at least for the infants so my little sister doesn’t melt next year.’

  ‘I would have done the same thing, man.’ Zain pats my back. ‘You’re not like the other loudmouths and bullymons here, that’s why I like you.’

  ‘Even if I won’t ever be the second best soccer player here?’ I say.

  ‘I don’t care if you’re the second worst, which you’re not, by the way,’ Zain says. ‘We’ll always be dare buddies.’

  We both run back to join the other kids in the soccer game. ‘We can still call this field, the Zain Oval.’

  Zain jumps on my back. ‘We’ll name it the RayZain Oval, that has a much better ring to it.’

  ‘Then we can rename the hall, the Ally Syn Theatre,’ I say.

  ‘And you can’t forget the Randa Panda Library,’ Zain adds.

  We crack up until our lungs get sore.

  We’re back in the office, taking turns to paint up to the latest level we’ve reached on our target meter. Randa makes the finishing touches at the six thousand dollar mark.

  ‘We’ve still got a fair way to go,’ Zain says. ‘When’s our next fun-raiser?’

  ‘How about a massive end-of-term party?’ Ally says.

  ‘A Footy Fan Day
!’ Zain says.

  ‘Yeah, but all we get is a gold coin donation from people wearing their favourite jersey to school,’ I say. ‘We need something else to raise more money.’

  ‘Time to put our crazy hats on,’ Ally says.

  We huddle together like we’re a soccer team before a penalty shootout.

  ‘Imagine if we got some Western Wizards players here,’ Zain says. ‘The school would go nuts.’

  ‘How about we email them?’ Randa says. ‘They do plenty of community stuff, we always see them at the local festivals and street markets.’

  Zain grins. ‘Killer idea, Randa Panda.’

  ‘Let’s come up with some more ideas at our next meeting,’ Randa says.

  ‘We have to stop using that word, meetings.’ Ally groans. ‘We’re not politicians or boring business people. I say we call them hangouts.’

  ‘Hey, that sounds cooler,’ Zain says.

  I nod. ‘And it’s what friends do.’

  Randa smiles. ‘Okay, call them whatever you want, but we’ve still got a lot of planning to do. We’ve got to make this the best Footy Fan Day ever if we’re going to blast through our target.’

  On my way to the canteen at recess, I spot Megan from my class, reading a book out loud under the shade of a tree. A few kids are gathered around her listening.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I say.

  ‘I’m book busking.’ Megan points to her school hat filled with coins. ‘If anyone likes my reading, then they can donate.’

  Another kid, Jordan Yu from Year Five, is leaning against the tree with another book under his arm. ‘All the library monitors wanted to help you guys reach that air conditioning target,’ Jordan says.

  I throw in the money I was going to use for my iceblock. ‘That sounds awesome.’

  ‘You inspired us, Raymond,’ Megan says. ‘You were the main reason we wanted to help.’

  ‘Really?’ I wish I had a book to hide my red face. I never dreamt that kids would be following me.

  After school, Mum drives Gina and me to the shops. She takes a surprise turn-off at the lights to head away from the big mall and towards our local Barryjong Shopping Centre. It’s a shopping strip with just a bakery, butcher, hairdresser and a few other smaller shops.