I was surprised to see Luci Rankin on the bus the following morning. She was the only girl.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’ yawned Fisk to her as he passed her seat.

She looked away.

There were only seven of us on the bus. Two boys who I’d noticed were good surfers, as well as Jack, Fisk, Jordie, Luci and me. I found out pretty quickly why Jordie was on the bus.

‘Mitchell,’ he whispered urgently to me. ‘You know the email? I think we’ve been sprung. I heard Fisk talking to Mr Spears. About how Bryce has a computer and–’

I didn’t wait a second. The bus had started to move, but I jumped up and shouted to Mr Spears that I’d forgotten my towel, at the same time shoving it across to Jack, who stashed it under the seat.

‘Well, maybe you don’t deserve to have it with you then.’

‘Actually Mr Spears, I could go to the toilet quickly while he gets it,’ came an urgent voice from just behind me.

‘Luci Rankin, Mitchell Grady, you’ve got sixty seconds, both of you, then this bus goes!’ Mr Spears said.

Luci and I scrambled off the bus.

I raced into our dorm.

‘Bryce, where’s your laptop?’ I shouted. ‘Quick!’

‘In my bag, under the bunk. Why?’

I didn’t bother answering. I raced over and tore the bag open. I knew straight away it wasn’t there – the bag was too light.

‘Bryce, listen. Somehow, we’ve been caught out. I don’t know how. But someone’s got your computer and I reckon it could be Fisk. Put your thinking cap on. I’ll be back in an hour.’

I sprinted for the door, then turned round. Bryce hadn’t moved. He was staring at something that looked like a book of puzzles.

‘Bryce, did you hear me?’

‘Say what?’ Bryce was on another planet.

‘Don’t worry, Mitchell, I’ll tell him. You go.’ Bubba to the rescue.

‘Okay, Bubba, thanks,’ I called, sprinting back to the bus.

Luci was already back on, sitting in the seat behind Jack.

‘Everything okay?’ she asked.

‘Um, yeah, I think so.’

‘Good. Well, if I get cold, can I use your spare towel?’ She was smiling.

‘Oh no,’ I said. I’d forgotten to bring back a towel. ‘I couldn’t find it anywhere, Mr Spears,’ I called out lamely, noticing Mr Spears looking at me oddly.

Matty, the camp instructor, had agreed to meet us at the beach, which, except for an old guy with a long stick and a couple of dogs tearing about the shallows, was deserted.

‘I know some of you are quite good surfers and this will give you the opportunity to really hone your skills. I’m around to offer any advice you want. I’ll blow the whistle at seven o’clock. I want everyone out then, okay?’ said Matty.

‘Okay, Grady, let’s surf. Just you and me. None of your little friends to keep you in the shallows.’ Fisk had sidled up to me as the group broke up.

That was fine by me. Sure, Fisk could surf, but he didn’t seem that agile on a board. Once again, we paddled out beyond the break. The weather was cool and misty and there was a good swell with plenty of waves coming through. The breeze was offshore. These were ideal surfing conditions. In fact, the surf was pumping.

‘You want to ride the same waves or what?’ I asked him.

‘Yep, my call first.’ He looked behind him. Good waves passed underneath us. We drifted. Suddenly he yelled, ‘This one!’

We both started paddling. After a few strokes, the wave was on us. Fisk was on his knees leaning his board towards me. He had a mean look on his face. I realised what he was up to. I broke left, but too late. His board rammed me in the side and knocked me clear off mine. My board flew over my head and dragged me along while the wave broke and crashed on top of me. I came up, my ribs aching. Fisk was gliding into the shallows.

I flopped onto my board and felt to see that each rib was still intact. Maybe the idea about the surfing competition was backfiring. Fisk seemed fired up enough to kill me. He was paddling back out.

‘So Grady, you still keen on surfing with me?’

‘Fisk, you’re a thug. You’ve just convinced me to work my guts out to beat you in every sporting event they put in front of us this year, starting with the ironman and surfing.’

My side was aching.

‘My turn to choose a wave,’ I said, trying not to grimace.

I turned on my board and paddled further out. This time, I would be on the attack.

A huge set was building out the back.

‘Third one,’ I said and turned my board slightly away from his. I let Fisk get slightly ahead then paddled like crazy to catch the roll of the wave. Fisk was trying to get to his feet. The wave was a beauty. A big lazy monster. As it broke, I veered towards him, totally in control, pushing my front foot down on the wave. At the last moment, I cut back away from him. But Fisk was totally fooled. Thinking I would ram him, he jumped off his board and tumbled into the water. I cut back again myself and went over the top of the wave.

‘Unlike you, Fisk, I can get you off your board without having to touch you.’

He was treading water, fuming. Maybe I was going to regret this. Still, that moment was worth it, even if my ribs were screaming at me to go and lie down somewhere for a week – or a year.