‘All right. What’s the plan, Max?’ Hugo asks, leaping to his feet.
‘The plan is you need to go home, Hugo,’ I say. I point at Pip. ‘I’ve got a new sidekick now.’
‘But –!’ Hugo protests. ‘If it’s an allergy, it isn’t contagious. She’s not your sidekick! I’m your –’
‘Get a note from your doctor saying it’s an allergy and then we can talk, Hugo.’ I say. Then I point at Abby. ‘And she is not your doctor.’
‘Oh . . . I hate this!’ Hugo says and stomps off. I turn to Pip.
‘Pip, you take Miss Sweet. I’ll take Chaz,’ I say. Pip does not look like she’s into this at all. Come on, bad twin, this is your moment to shine! And there’s no time to waste.
‘I can help!’ says Tyson.
I screw up my face. ‘No, you can’t, Tyson. You’re the good twin, remember. You shouldn’t even be in this conversation!’
Tyson growls and stomps off after Hugo.
‘Max, I don’t even know what “you take Miss Sweet” even means,’ Pip says. ‘Who talks like that?’
‘Come on, Pip. Take an interest. This is how pranksters talk.’
‘We’re pranksters?’ Pip says. Apparently this is news to her. ‘Where did Abby go?’
Now that she points it out, I realise it’s only Pip, Duck and me left standing here.
‘Good question,’ I say. ‘Who cares. Look, Miss Sweet’s going back into school. You follow her. I’m going to get rid of Chaz-man.’
I point back to the carpark. Miss Sweet is walking back the way she came, across the carpark and in the direction of our classroom. Chaz hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting awkwardly on the bonnet of his car, watching her go. Maybe he’s worried that she’ll look over her shoulder and he wants to be ready if she does? Who knows what goes through the mind of this weirdo.
Pip is bouncing up and down nervously and shaking her hands as though they’re wet.
‘But what do I do? I don’t know what to do, Max.’
‘Convince her she needs to change the channel!’ I say.
Pip looks confused. ‘Change the channel?’
‘The Chaz Show!’ I say. ‘She needs to turn it off!’
Pip nods. Shakes her head. Nods again. Then she turns and runs off after Miss Sweet.
Okay. Now I need to work out what I’m going to do with Chaz. Whatever it is, I need to do it fast, before he hops in his car and drives off.
‘Come on, Duck.’ I say. ‘Let’s work it out on the way down there.’
We jog across the carpark towards Chaz. He’s still sitting in the same spot, staring off into space with a slight smile on his face.
The sound of his name snaps him out of his stupor. He turns and sees Duck and me. His smile vanishes.
‘Oh, it’s you, Belly Flop,’ he says, sliding his leg off the bonnet and standing up straight. ‘And you must be the duck.’
Quack.
I’ve got my idea now. I know how to get rid of Chaz. The question is, can I pull it off? Well, there’s only one way to find out.
‘I really should stop pranking you,’ I say. ‘Especially given that you’re . . .’
I let my voice trail off. There’s an awkward silence while he waits for me to finish.
‘That I’m what?’ Chaz asks when he realises I’m not planning on ending that sentence.
‘Well,’ I shrug. ‘You know . . .’
Chaz looks confused. ‘No. I don’t think I do.’
‘It’s okay, Chaz. It’s not a secret,’ I say.
Chaz furrows his brow and puts his hands on his hips. ‘What are you talking about?’
Okay, here goes.
‘It doesn’t have to be weird between us,’ I say. ‘Just because you’re in love with . . . my mum.’
It’s like those last two words echo around the school carpark. My mum . . . my mum . . . my mum . . . my mum . . .
Chaz goes stiff. He stops blinking.
‘What?’ he asks, but I don’t see him move when he says it. Like, not even his mouth. ‘I am not!’
Time to rub this in.
‘Well, she’s certainly in love with you.’ I raise both eyebrows and grin.
‘Your mum?’ Chaz asks. His hands are on his hips again.
‘It’s okay, I’m getting used to the idea.’
‘I’m dating your teacher,’ Chaz says, ‘not your mum!’
I gasp dramatically and put my hand over my mouth.
‘Oh . . .’ I say, pretending to realise. ‘She hasn’t told you.’
‘Hasn’t told me what?’ Now his arms are folded. He’s doing a lot with those arms. I definitely have him squirming. Time to really rock his world.
‘What?’ Chaz gasps. I put on my cutest face.
‘No way . . .’ Chaz trails off, his eyes open wide. I think he might be buying it! Stay with me, Chaz-man.
‘I wonder why she didn’t tell you about me,’ I pretend to ask myself.
Chaz has pulled his keys out of his pocket. He keeps looking at his car as though he would really like to jump in there and drive off. Away from this awkward conversation. Away from the school. Away from Miss Sweet!
Time to really lay it on thick.
‘Maybe . . .’ I say, and then stick my bottom lip out and let it wobble a bit. ‘Maybe she’s embarrassed by me.’
I’m not going to be able to fake-cry for real, but kids don’t need to go that far to really get adults feeling uncomfortable. A little squint here. A little downturned mouth there. That’s all that’s really required.
Chaz sees it.
‘Oh . . .’ he says. Now he is turning his whole body back and forth between the car (where he wants to go) and me (the sad boy he can’t just leave standing in a carpark about to cry). ‘No, I’m sure that’s not it.’
This is working. Keep it going! I take a big sniff.
‘I do tend to get myself in trouble a lot,’ I say. Chaz is sweating. I’m making him sweat. ‘I don’t mean to. It’s just ’cause I’ve grown up without a dad, you know . . .’
‘Yeah . . . Right . . . Well . . .’
‘Until now,’ I mumble.
‘Sorry?’ Chaz asks. ‘What?’
He heard me.
‘Chaz?’ I ask, looking up at him with big puppy dog eyes.
He coughs. ‘Yeah?’
