Jack waited at the school gate, checking his watch. He felt like a bit of a dork, turning up to school almost a whole hour before the bell. He might as well have brought an apple for Mr Jacobs.
Finally Delilah and her crew pulled up in their rented minivan. Delilah was in the front passenger seat, talking on the phone. She waved at Jack when she noticed him waiting by the gate, ended her call, and climbed out of the van while Brett and Todd unloaded their gear.
‘Sorry about the early start,’ she said. ‘We want to get as much vision as possible before you head in to class.’ She took a sip from the takeaway coffee she’d obviously bought on the way from her motel, then brought up some notes on her phone. ‘So you said you’d be meeting some of your friends first, right?’
Jack nodded, but he worried he was being slightly optimistic. He hadn’t seen the others all weekend. Not that not seeing his friends was anything new. But things had been even weirder between them since Jack had told everyone he was going back on Bigwigs.
‘Do we have those releases ready?’ Delilah called to Brett. He slid a blue folder halfway out of his camera bag, which seemed to satisfy her. ‘Our agreement with your principal covers any filming inside the school grounds, but your friends will have to get these signed by their parents if they’re going to appear with you on camera.’
Jack was still uneasy about being filmed at school. There were too many variables beyond his control. Variables like the shouting out of not-very-subtle references to his incident in the student centre by passing Year 10s. Variables like Oliver Sampson. Variables like Natsumi Distagio. He didn’t like having to think about variables. Even very sexy ones.
‘Well, most of the really exciting stuff I do happens outside of school hours,’ he said. Like purchasing – and failing to cook – a large quantity of sausages, he thought to himself.
‘We need to get coverage on every part of your life,’ said Delilah. ‘You know how it is – we have to find the story. Take these two, for instance.’
Jack looked across the road to where Delilah was pointing.
‘I can tell right away there’s something going on between them,’ said Delilah. ‘A spark. An energy. But there’s some-thing else. They’re not totally at ease with each other. Like they’ve been forced to hide something, or –’
‘Hey, Reese,’ said Jack. ‘Hey, Darylyn.’
Reese and Darylyn crossed the road and warily approached Jack and the Bigwigs crew. Reese took one look at Todd’s heavy metal t-shirt and retreated into his earbuds, starstruck.
No sooner had Reese and Darylyn arrived than Jack saw the school bus pull up further down the street.
The first two students to get out were Vivi Dink-Dawson and Oliver Sampson.
Sampson fist-bumped Reese and Darylyn. ‘Hey, it’s Research and Development!’
Jack looked at Sampson blankly.
‘R&D?’ said Sampson. ‘Reese and Darylyn?’
‘You’re such a dork, Oliver,’ said Vivi.
Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nobody was allowed to be a jock and a dork.
‘This is Vivi,’ Jack said, introducing her to Delilah. ‘We’ve been friends since the start of high school.’ He inserted himself between Sampson and Vivi. ‘All four of us: me, Vivi, Reese, Darylyn. “The gang”.’
‘Hi, folks,’ Delilah said. Then she glanced at Sampson. ‘We meet again!’
Jack barrelled on before Sampson had a chance to reply. ‘The cool thing about Vivi is that she’s applying to be Upland’s Mayor for a Week this year. Pretty amazing. Almost like a Bigwigs challenge!’
Vivi looked confused. ‘What do you mean, “again”?’ she asked Delilah.
‘We were filming a little segment of Jack “out and about” yesterday,’ said Delilah. ‘We’d already got some great vision of Jack’s famous bachelor pad, but –’
‘Bachelor pad?’ said Vivi and Darylyn. Reese and Sampson cast sceptical looks at each other.
Jack looked at them as though they were crazy.
‘You know. My bachelor pad. The one I’ve been … doing all my bachelor business in.’ His voice sounded regrettably high.
He cleared his throat and glanced nervously at the camera, checking that the red light was off.
‘You can’t be a bachelor,’ Darylyn said. ‘Technically a bachelor’s someone who’s old enough to get married but deliberately chooses not to.’
‘Whatever,’ said Jack. ‘The point is, it’s mine.’
‘I don’t get it,’ said Vivi. ‘How can you even afford that? I thought you’d spent all your – oh. Wait. I get it. This “bachelor pad”: it wouldn’t be situated a few metres from the back door of your house, by any chance?’
‘Maybe,’ said Jack.
‘So we’re talking less “bachelor pad” and more … “granny flat”?’
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Sampson shaking his head in pity.
Delilah checked her watch. ‘So, what I’d really like to do is get some shots of Jack hanging out with his friends before school starts. All five of you.’
‘Four,’ said Jack.
Delilah looked confused. Reese nudged Jack, nodding towards Sampson. ‘Dude.’
‘Okay,’ Jack sighed. ‘Whatever. Five.’
‘Great,’ said Delilah. ‘Maybe you could talk a little about what it’s like to hang out with a Bigwig, what’s happening at school today, that kind of thing.’
Darylyn fixed Delilah with a serious stare. ‘That sounds completely stilted and unnatural,’ she said. And then, after a micro-pause, ‘Fortunately, that is one hundred per cent my bag.’
‘Great,’ said Delilah, looking slightly unsure. She moved Brett into place and Todd positioned his mike above them, out of shot.
A crowd was starting to gather along the fence, inside the school grounds. Jack spied the Year 7 girls kneeling down at the front, hands gripping the wire, rigid with excitement.
When nobody seemed willing to start talking, Delilah turned to Jack. ‘Okay. Here’s an ice-breaker. How does a typical school day compare to a typical day on Bigwigs? What’s on the timetable for Monday?’
Sampson butted in before Jack could answer. ‘We have PE in the afternoon. Don’t we, Jack?’
‘Do we? I can’t remember,’ Jack countered with a shrug. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. You know, with all this Bigwigs reunion show stuff happening.’
Sampson put on a look of mock concern and turned to Delilah.
‘You’re not taking the camera into the changing rooms, I hope.’
Delilah blanched. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘That would be totally inappropriate.’
‘Good,’ said Sampson. ‘It’s just that some of the guys are … well, not all the way to becoming actual guys, if you know what I mean. Could be a bit embarrassing for them. But we’re playing soccer again this afternoon. You could film that! Jack might even save a goal this time.’
Jack shrugged. ‘Film it if you want.’ (He definitely did not want them to film it.) ‘But I’m not really into games. I mean, that sort of thing’s fine if you’re in Grade 6 or whatever.’ He cleared his throat in what he hoped was a manful way. ‘Obviously I pursue more mature interests these days.’
‘Oh?’ said Delilah. ‘Such as?’
Vivi pretended to be intrigued. ‘Yes, Jack. Tell us about all these manly pursuits. Are they the kinds of things that would keep you holed up in your bedroom – sorry, bachelor pad – for two whole weeks?’
Darylyn leant towards Delilah. ‘Jack has been “exploring himself”.’
Reese nudged Darylyn. ‘Dude! Ix-nay on the asturbating-may!’ he whispered out the side of his mouth. He looked like he was struggling to suppress a grin.
‘What are you even talking about?’ said Jack. ‘Yes, I’ve been exploring myself. No, not in that way. More like … getting in touch with my inner animal.’
‘Yeah,’ said Sampson. ‘The chipmunk.’
‘It’s not a chipmunk,’ said Jack, scowling. ‘It’s a man animal. An inner man-animal.’
Delilah’s searchlight stare flicked from Jack to Vivi to Sampson and back to Jack again.
‘So tell us more,’ she said. ‘What kind of manly things are we talking about here?’
‘Well …’ said Jack, delaying for a moment as he struggled to think of something plausible. He thought about the Lionheart Tigerwolf thing Mr Trench had told him about. At the time he thought it sounded ridiculous; now he was desperate enough to reach for it like a lifeline. Jack set his jaw firm and did his best to look grim and serious. ‘Well, obviously there’s my hunting.’
Sampson made a ‘pfft’ noise. Vivi rolled her eyes.
‘I mean, not hunting hunting, like, with spears or anything. But, you know. Shooting. Firing guns at things.’
Reese and Darylyn looked at each other, frowning.
‘Yeah, I’ve been spending quite a lot of time down the rifle range with the guys. The old shootin’ gang. Fishing I like, also,’ said Jack. ‘Love catching a fish. Gutting a fish. Skinning a fish. And then there’s my boxing, of course.’
Dammit, he thought. Why had he said boxing? It was wrestling that Mr Trench had mentioned, he remembered. A combat sport that involved considerably less chance of having your face punched in.
‘When I say boxing, I mean boxing-themed gym workout,’ he added, quickly saving himself. ‘I work out with a punching bag.’ He did a couple of swift jabs for the camera, then immediately stopped when he realised how ridiculous he looked. ‘So, yeah. Fishing. Shooting. Fish … shooting.’
‘Fish punching?’ suggested Vivi innocently.
Jack nodded, looking serious, as though weighed down by some enormous duty. ‘If it comes to it.’
‘We love you Jack!’ shouted the Year 7 girls.
Delilah glanced over towards where the girls had gathered, under the birch tree near the fence. They seemed to have pinged Delilah’s radar – but before she could quiz Jack for information, the bell rang.
‘Okay, we might wrap there for now,’ she said. ‘I think you’re right, Jack. It sounds like we’ll get more interesting material outside of school hours.’
‘Really?’ said Jack. ‘That’s it?’ He tried not to sound too relieved.
Delilah nodded and turned to Brett, who handed her the blue folder from his bag. She handed release forms to Vivi, Reese and Darylyn, then spoke to Jack again. ‘I’m going to extend our shoot. So we can get some vision of you doing all those things you were just talking about.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Jack. ‘Good plan.’
On the one hand, the less filming at school, the better. On the other hand, all of the interesting things he’d just talked about were one hundred per cent bogus. He’d never fired a gun, he’d never caught a fish, and he’d never thrown a punch.
How the hell was he going to fake that?
