KANGAROOS SUCK

If you don’t mind, I’ll skip over the rest of my time in Shark’s Bay as quickly as possible.

Long story short, it wasn’t pleasant.

Mom postponed any punishment over my possible involvement in the Great Surf Club Zombie Bunyip Disaster until we were home.

The Coogans treated us well enough for the remainder of our stay—by which I mean they treated us like we were basically radioactive. The weather may have been hot outside, but the temperature at 22 Sunspot Crescent was arctic. It was official: the cultural exchange experiment between Hills Village and Shark’s Bay had been a total disaster.

I didn’t even see Bradley or Belinda again before we left, which was just fine by me. I could happily spend the rest of my life never seeing either of the twins ever again, and they must have felt exactly the same. In that way, and that way alone, we had something in common.

After having time to think about it, I decided that it had been worth it. No one had been badly injured (unless you counted Bradley having his privates nibbled by a possum), no real damage had been done (other than one exploded row of temporary toilets), and I had gotten my revenge for being publicly humiliated (three times!). Not to mention, the Surf Gorillas finally got punished for wrecking Revenge of the Teenage Zombie Bunyip from Mars.

All in all, I reflected, they deserved what they’d gotten.

And as for Ellie and the Outsiders, Ellie and I talked until late that night. I won’t tell you what we said or how we left it. That’s just for me and Ellie. Meeting her and the Outsiders had been the highlight of my trip. I wouldn’t forget them or regret a single thing about coming to Australia.

Except not seeing a kangaroo. I hadn’t seen a single one of those overgrown hopping rats.

Now, that sucked.