5

TUNA IS FISH

We are doing a spelling lesson with Mr Barwick. As we write, he sits at his desk and taps away on his laptop.

Spelling is my favourite subject, but today I can’t concentrate. All I can think about are the clowns. They knew my name. They were following Justice to get to me! But why? I stare into the bowl of our class mascot, Sonny-Bill Goldfish, and wonder why those freaky clowns might want me.

It’s lunchtime and Justice pulls out a tuna and cheese sandwich.

‘Poo — this sandwich smells like fish, man,’ he says, screwing up his nose.

‘That’s because it is,’ I say.

‘Is what?’ he asks.

‘Fish,’ I reply.

‘Nah, it’s tuna.’

‘Tuna is fish,’ I explain.

Justice looks at me, confused. I don’t feel like explaining, so I change the subject. ‘I’m thinking about telling Mum the truth.’

Justice stops sniffing his sandwich. ‘About tuna?’ he says.

‘No, about how I’ve used my powers to play for the Broncos.’

Jared Knutz and his mate Ethan walk past. I wait for them to get a safe distance before I start talking again. ‘I need to come clean with Mum.’

‘Maybe you should,’ says Justice. ‘We’re dealing with some pretty crazy stuff at the moment.’

I peel a banana and think about what Justice has said.

‘Wonder if she’ll go off her head?’ he says.

‘Only one way to find out,’ I shrug. As I peel my banana, it breaks off and falls on the ground. ‘Ten second rule!’ I yell, picking it up and eating it.

‘Gross!’ a voice yells out from across the playground. ‘Dylan Conlan eats food off the ground!’ laughs Jared Knutz.

His mates point and laugh, but I don’t care. I’m thinking about how I’ll tell Mum the truth. Tonight.

I ride home the long way and keep an eye out for the orange van and the creepy clowns. There is no sign of them. In my head, I go over what I’ll say to Mum. I’ll need to break it to her gently — maybe something like this:

‘Mum, you know how you think I’m a ball boy for the Broncos? Well, I’ve actually been using my special powers to play footy and that good-looking Deadly D fella is me! Also, did you know that they’ve been paying me heaps of money, which I’ve been banking so that we can buy a house? How solid is that?’

I ride past the shops and call out to Mr Stavros, who is helping an old lady into his taxi.

‘Patja!’ I yell.

‘Kalispera!’ Mr Stavros waves back.

I turn into my street and realise that this is it. It’s time for me to be honest with Mum and tell her everything. I see the red Toyota Camry parked in the driveway. She’s home. I dump my bike in the yard and go to get the door key out of my bag, but there’s no need. Mum’s standing at the front door. Her arms are crossed and there’s a frown on her face.

‘Get inside. Now,’ she growls.

This isn’t good.