It was the evening everyone had been waiting for all term – the Bilby Creek Fete. Fairy lights, baubles, bells, tinsel and streamers festooned the place, swinging from tree to tree to fence to pillar to post, creating a glorious rainbow canopy that shone and glittered in the moonlight. Elizabella and Minnie had made some big alterations to the playground that term, but even they would agree that this was pretty amazing. If they were speaking to each other, that is.

At the arm-wrestling table sat Miss Carrol, the undefeated champion, waiting for a new rival. Mr Biffington was in a beautiful purple and golden tent reading people’s fortunes. And in the middle of the playground was a giant inflatable bilby-shaped jumping castle, which Mr Crab stood by, supervising.

Miss Duck, who was wearing a special gold-sequinned apron, had set up a giant feast on a long chequered table. There was pea soup, chicken pies, cucumber sandwiches and sausage rolls. There were Black Forest and Madeira cakes, pikelets and toffee apples, and marshmallows for roasting on a little fire.

Elizabella and Huck entered the fete carrying a big regular bread house. They had had an extremely fun afternoon making it. So much so that Elizabella had forgotten all about Minnie. She had the genius idea of making the house out of Extreme Fairy Bread, which had the natural adhesive of strawberry jam and the natural prettiness of sprinkles. Huck had thought to toast the bread first so that it was firmer and more structurally sound. They’d both decided not to set it on fire because they didn’t want to go to jail. It was hard to deny it – they made a great team.

They saw Ava and Evie when they entered.

“What’s that?” asked Ava, pointing to the strange, edible sculpture.

“It’s a regular bread house!” said Huck, proudly.

“Cool!” said Evie.

Elizabella looked at Huck and smiled.

They saw some commotion at the arm wrestling table, then a big cheer went up. They all ran over to see what had happened.

An announcement blared: “And the winner, who has managed to best our hitherto undefeated champion Miss Carrol . . . is . . .. Minnie!”

Everyone cheered.

“Minnie, you have won this two hundred-piece set of Pickles Pencils!”

Minnie took the prize and did a massive bow. She came over and joined the others. Elizabella braced herself. She was having a good time and hardly in the mood for Minnie.

“Cool, huh?” said Minnie, showing everyone her prize.

Daphne came skipping over to them, chewing on a candy necklace.

“Wow!” she said. “That’s the biggest set of Pickles Pencils I have ever seen!”

Minnie considered it for a minute, then handed it to Daphne. “You can have it,” she said.

Daphne stared at her, her mouth forming an “O” that got wider and wider like a sinkhole opening up the earth, until it looked like her whole face was one gaping wide mouth with some tiny features squished at the top.

“That’s the nicest thing . . . ever!” she spluttered out and gave Minnie a big kiss on the cheek before running away. Elizabella was shocked.

“Wow, Minnie,” said Elizabella. “That was nice.”

“Yeah, well,” said Minnie, who had actually surprised herself.

“I’ll be back in a minute, guys,” said Elizabella. She went over to visit Miss Duck and gave her the bread house to sell.

“What a beautiful regular bread house!” said Miss Duck.

“You’ve heard of them?” asked Elizabella.

“Oh, yes. They’re a delicacy!”

Maybe Mum was a better cook than everyone gave her credit for? Elizabella wondered.

“So, how was the date?” she asked.

“I really tried, truly I did,” said Miss Duck. “But the Slug-quarium?”

“I like the Slug-quarium!” said Elizabella.

“Yes, dear, but would you ever ask somebody to watch a several hours-long slide show of pictures of you at the slug-quarium?”

“No, I would never do that to someone I liked,” said Elizabella, truthfully.

“Though it was fun while it lasted, the Gobblefrump–Duck dalliance has come to an end. And I want you to take this back.” Miss Duck reached into her pocket and pulled out the last poem Elizabella had given her.

“It really is the most beautiful poem that I have ever read,” said Miss Duck. “You should give it to someone special one day.”

Elizabella smiled and stuffed the poem into her pocket. “Thanks, Miss Duck.”

The sound of a big commotion came from the other side of the playground.

Minnie! thought Elizabella. She knew that Minnie must have a big scheme planned for the fete.

Minnie marched up and down the length of the playground. She had assembled twenty kids into two lines. Each line of ten kids had tied their shoelaces together.

“Okay, it’s time for the eleven-legged race!” she said. “Three . . . two . . .”

Mr Gobblefrump appeared.

Oh no! thought Elizabella. Now that Mr Gobblefrump is heartbroken, when he realises what Minnie has done, he’s gonna lose it!

“No, Minnie!” said Elizabella, helplessly from her side of the playground. Even though she and Minnie had their major differences, she didn’t want her to get in trouble.

“. . . One!”

The race began. And as twenty kids awkwardly half-walked, half-ran down the playground tied together, Elizabella closed her eyes and saw the eleven-legged race unfurl in her mind. Firstly, Ava would trip over a stick and sprain her ankle. As she cried out in pain she would knock over Sandy, whose knee would connect with a gum nut and start pouring blood. All the way down the line the kids would fall like dominos, until they fell right onto the other line of kids. Suddenly, everyone would be on the ground. The last kid to go down would be Huck, whose glasses would fall off right onto the jumping castle and the moon would shine through them, creating a laser beam that would burn a hole in the jumping castle and the whole thing would deflate, swallowing everyone inside and then the police would come and arrest everyone who was still alive.

Elizabella waited for the inevitable scream of Mr Gobblefrump.

“And the winner is . . .”

She opened her eyes. Mr Gobblefrump was announcing the winner. And he was . . . smiling? It had gone off without a hitch.

“. . . Unclear!” said Mr Gobblefrump, with a laugh. “Great game, Minnie!”

Elizabella was so confused. Even though no one had died, the eleven-legged race clearly violated at least seventeen Bilby Creek Primary School Rules that she knew of. Surely Mr Gobblefrump would be angrier than ever?

Miss Duck, who had watched the race with Elizabella, saw her confusion at Mr Gobblefrump’s response. “You know, Elizabella, sometimes even Mr Gobblefrump just likes to have fun.”

Elizabella looked at all the kids who had raced trying to untangle themselves from one another and Mr Gobblefrump with them, laughing away.

Elizabella took advantage of not being tied up and headed off to think about what Miss Duck had said.

Huck found Elizabella a little dazed and confused.

“That eleven-legged race was something else, wasn’t it?” he said.

“Yes, ah, something else,” she replied, distractedly.

“There are some kids eating the regular bread house. Cool, huh?”

“Yes . . . umm . . . cool,” she said.

“Hey look, there’s a unicorn over there with bees for eyes and a giant ice cream cone for a horn and because the cone is upside-down, ice cream is dripping all over its face and all over the bees,” said Huck.

“Yes . . . unicorn,” said Elizabella.

Huck stopped walking. “Okay Elizabella, spill.”

“Hmm?”

“Clearly something is on your mind. What is it?”

Elizabella stopped walking too. She turned to her friend. “Oh, Huck . . .”

“Elizabella, I’m your best friend. Tell me, what’s going on?”

And Elizabella just couldn’t hold it in any more. She started to story-vomit – and once she’d started spilling her guts she just couldn’t stop until everything she’d been holding in had come out.

Well . . . almost everything.

Huck was stunned. He sat down. He was trying to take it all in.

“Wow,” he said eventually. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping an epic teacher romance poetry scheme a secret this whole time!”

“Neither can I!” said Elizabella. She sat down next to Huck.

“You know you can always tell me anything,” he said, and put an arm around her shoulder.

“Thanks, Huck.”

Elizabella had a sudden urge. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the poem. “Here,” she said, thrusting it into Huck’s hand.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s nothing,” she said, snatching it back.

Elizabella, what are you doing? Stop! Being! A! Coward!

“Shut up, Brain!” said Elizabella, out loud.

Huck just sat there, a bit confused.

“Just joking, it’s for you,” she said, slowly giving him back the poem. Huck went to open it.

“No! Don’t open it!”

“Well, what should I do with it?” he said.

“Open it!”

Huck went to open it again.

“Not now! Later! When I’m gone!”

Huck put the poem in his pocket.

Then Elizabella ran far, far away.

Once she had disappeared into the distance, Huck pulled the poem out of his pocket, opened it and began to read . . .

I like like your eyes

I like like your hair

I like like your glasses

Through which you stare

I like like that you’re kind and you understand me

And when I feel sad you’re who I want to see

I like like your smile and the hole in your shoe

But most most of all, I like like you

Huck looked up to the sky and smiled as his whole body started to go golden warm from the tips of his toes to his head, like an empty jar filling up with honey.