If you were given three minutes to raid the canteen, what would you take first? Lollies? Cake? Then again, you could just take the cash register. Then you could afford lollies and cake for life.

At 7.12 pm, the students were sent to the canteen and told to select one item for dinner.

The Year Twelves took all the pies.

The Year Elevens ate all the chips.

The Year Tens scoffed all the ice-cream.

The Year Nines cleaned out the chocolate bars.

The Year Eights polished off the soft drink, the muffins and the carrot cake.

By the time the Year Sevens were allowed in, the canteen resembled a wartime rations office. They picked through mouldy fruit and muesli bars, glumly searching for anything that looked edible. At one point James Clarke found a Caramello Koala, but he foolishly announced his discovery aloud, causing a frenzy of Year Sevens to pounce on him like rabid dogs.

Justin managed to salvage three sultanas.

He followed Eliza outside and they perched together on a bench overlooking the quadrangle. Though the sun was setting, the air still felt warm. Around them, other kids were playing tiggy and doing cartwheels. All in all, it was quite a pleasant atmosphere.

‘There’s certainly a bit of frisson to it, don’t you think?’ said Eliza, munching her bruised apple.

‘What’s that?’ asked Justin.

‘Frisson is a feeling of excitement. Like when things happen that are out of the ordinary.’

‘Well then, this is definitely frisson,’ said Justin. He glanced up at the bell tower, still frozen at quarter past three. He thought of his lucky pawn, wedged in the machinery. It wouldn’t take a clock specialist long to find it. And it wouldn’t take Featherstone long to trace it back to Justin. He wondered what his punishment would be. Ten detentions? Expulsion? Perhaps they’d bring back the cane?

There was nothing for it but to enjoy it while it lasted.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Miss Granger smiled as she sat down. ‘Here – don’t tell anyone, but I found this in the kitchen.’ She handed Justin a brown paper bag. He looked inside to see a steaming hot sausage roll, drenched in tomato sauce. It looked delicious.

‘Thank you,’ he said, then offered some to Eliza. ‘Do you want to share?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m vegetarian.’

This suited Justin fine. He took a bite; it tasted as good as it looked.

‘Justin,’ said Miss Granger, ‘I’m sorry for arguing in class. You were right, of course. Rules are rules.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Justin between bites. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was.

‘The thing is,’ said Miss Granger, ‘I’m under a bit of pressure this year. Wade Turner is – how can I put this – not the easiest student to have in my class.’

‘You’re telling me,’ said Justin, swallowing another chunk of sausage roll.

The sun sank lower in the sky. Above them, fruit bats descended en masse from the mountain to begin their night of foraging, fossicking, and spreading infectious diseases.

‘Anyway,’ continued Miss Granger, ‘I just wanted to remind you – my class is your sanctuary.’

Justin nodded. Miss Granger’s reassurance, combined with the last delicious mouthful of sausage roll, had given birth to a strange and unexpected emotion.

Justin felt happy.

Not just a little bit happy. Not just warm-sausage-roll-in-the-tummy happy.

He felt the sort of happiness that only comes with turning your life around.

In fact, he thought, glancing at Eliza, so far this was shaping up to be the perfect night.

He looked across the quadrangle, where the other kids had united to play a game of cartwheel-tiggy.

Justin watched as they happily tumbled, slipped, and collided with each other. Laughter filled the air. As far as Justin could tell, they were all having a pretty perfect night, too.

Everyone, that is, except the curly-haired boy with glasses, who was approaching Miss Granger.

‘Excuse me, Miss,’ he said. ‘It’s my mum’s birthday today, and we had plans to go for pizza.’ His bottom lip quivered as he spoke. ‘Is there any chance I could be excused?’

Miss Granger sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Peter, but the principal has made it very clear. Everyone has to stay on the school grounds.’

Peter looked like he was close to tears. Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘But what will we do all night?’ Peter asked nervously.

It was a valid question. As if on cue, the school PA system crackled to life.

‘Attention,’ boomed Dr Featherstone’s disembodied voice. ‘You’re probably wondering what you’ll be doing all night. In light of current circumstances, I am pleased to announce that extracurricular activities have been brought forward, starting immediately. Tennis will take place in the Old Art Room. Basketball will be held in the Old Drama Theatre. Soccer will be played in the Old Music Department.’

Eliza’s eyes widened. ‘Where’s the Music Department?’

Justin had never seen her so excited before.

‘Behind the gym,’ said Miss Granger.

Eliza’s voice filled with hope. ‘So they still teach music here?’

‘I’m afraid not. It’s the Old Music Department. There’s nothing there but a broken piano.’

Eliza’s excitement evaporated. ‘Why don’t they still use it?’

‘You’d have to ask the principal.’

Eliza slumped back in dismay. ‘This school’s weird,’ she mumbled, taking another bite of her apple.

‘A little bit, yes,’ said Miss Granger. ‘But everyone finds their place eventually. Which reminds me – Justin, I need to give you directions to the Athletic Muscle Bus.’

Justin’s sausage roll did a backflip in his stomach.

‘And Eliza,’ Miss Granger continued, ‘I think it would be a good activity for you, too – if you’d like to join Justin?’

But Eliza was nowhere to be seen.

Justin scanned the quadrangle, to no avail. His perfect night was quickly turning into quite an average night.

The PA system blared once more.

‘Attention staff. It has been brought to my attention that Rule 135 of the Mount Willow Handbook forbids teachers from working overnight. Sadly, I remain legally obliged to keep you all on site until the bell goes. Therefore, I have established a makeshift dormitory in the staffroom. Would all teachers please make your way there immediately to commence a staff sleepover.’

Miss Granger looked confused. So did the fruit bats.

‘But who’s going to look after us?’ came a frightened voice from the quadrangle.

‘You’re probably wondering who’s going to look after you,’ continued Featherstone. ‘I’m pleased to report that the Year Ten army cadets have agreed to patrol the grounds over the course of the night, to ensure that every student is attending their correct activity.’

In the distance, Justin heard the sound of boots marching on asphalt. His night was rapidly going from average to creepy.

Featherstone crackled on.

‘Of course, every army needs a captain, so it is my pleasure to announce that Wade Turner of Class 7G will be in charge of our Night Patrol. Wade has had an exemplary first day, including successfully overseeing a mass nose-inspection during PE, and I appreciate his willingness to take on this leadership role.’

Justin froze.

Miss Granger froze.

The entire quadrangle froze.

The thumping footsteps got closer and closer until, finally, Wade Turner marched into view.

Something about him looked different. Maybe it was the light. Maybe it was the swagger. Or maybe it was the full-scale military-grade army outfit he was wearing.

His smirk threatened to knock him off balance.

Behind Wade, a motley group of Year Tens marched in formation. They reached the middle of the quad, turned to face Wade, and saluted him.

An eerie hush fell over the school as the last bit of sunlight slipped behind Mount Willow.

Justin wished he could disappear as well.

With horror, he realised he had put Wade Turner in charge of the entire school.

And Wade was wasting no time in exercising his authority.

‘YOU HEARD THE PRINCIPAL!’ Wade’s voice echoed around the quadrangle. ‘TEACHERS TO THE STAFFROOM! KIDS TO YOUR ACTIVITIES! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!’

In an instant, seven hundred terrified jumbo jets took flight, ducking and weaving in the dusk.

Above them, two fruit bats collided in midair.

Justin climbed onto the bench, frantically scanning the crowd for Eliza.

‘Justin,’ Miss Granger said urgently, ‘you need to get to the Muscle Bus. Now.’

‘I don’t know where it is!’ cried Justin over the din. Around them, the Night Patrol were blowing whistles and shouting ‘MOVE IT ALONG!’, even to the kids who were already moving along.

‘Head across North Field—’ began Miss Granger, but she was interrupted by The Smirk, who had spotted Justin standing on the bench.

‘Hey, loser! MOVE IT!’ said Wade. He reached up and grabbed Justin’s tie, yanking him down from the bench. ‘Get to your activity – or do I have to put you in custody?’

‘What’s custody?’

‘It’s like detention,’ said one of the army brutes. ‘But without toilet breaks.’

Justin didn’t feel that either choice was ideal, but he was very much out of options.

So he turned and ran.

He ran as quickly as his decidedly non-running legs would carry him, and he didn’t stop running for three whole minutes, completely unsure of where he was going or where, indeed, he should go. As it happened, that decision was made for him when the ground unexpectedly turned into water, and he felt his entire body plunge deep beneath the surface.