Fliss was so excited when we accepted her invitations it made us all feel pretty mean. She must have asked fifty times what kind of food we liked to eat and did two of us mind sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor. “Because I’ve only got two beds, but Mum’s bought these cool new duvet covers. They’re the most fantastic colour…”
I could see Kenny rolling her eyes and mouthing, “Pink!”
I thought it would be a bit of a miracle if we actually got Kenny there on the Friday, but in the end we all made it.
As my mum and dad dropped us off they said, “Have a great time.”
“And try to get some sleep,” Mum added.
I told her, “That’s why it’s called a sleepover, Mum, because that’s what you do!”
“If only it worked like that,” Mum sighed, which just goes to show that sometimes mums know more than you think!
From the moment Nicky opened the door and we got our first glimpse of Fliss’s house, we all started to worry.
If Fliss is a pink person, her mum, Nicky, is pale cream. Don’t get me wrong, Nicky’s great, we love her to bits – now we know her. But when she asked us to take off our shoes before we came in and check our bags were clean before we put them down on the carpet we knew we’d have to be on our best behaviour.
She led us straight through to her shiny cream kitchen where she’d set out this tea party. The table was covered with little cakes and jellies and miniature sandwiches and rolls, and there were balloons and streamers and candles, like it was this full-on birthday party or something, just for the four of us! Fliss’s younger brother, Callum, was there, of course, staring at us like we were three aliens who’d come to tea. But Kenny did that cross-eyed thing she does which soon stopped him.
You could see Nicky was feeling pretty nervous and it was making all of us nervous too. We’re not exactly clumsy types but we kept nudging each other as we reached for the same sandwich.
“Ooops, sorry,” Lyndz said.
“No, my fault,” I insisted.
Then Kenny knocked her drink over! It was like it was in slow motion: the juice flew up in the air but Kenny followed it with her cup and did this brilliant save, managing to catch every drop. It was such a great party trick we all felt like cheering. But Nicky clearly didn’t realise how fast Kenny’s reflexes are, because she looked like she might faint with the tension.
Then Lyndz slurped her drink, which she often does. But the room was so quiet the slurp sounded like it was on loudspeaker. We couldn’t wait to finish tea and escape upstairs to Fliss’s bedroom. But when we finally did – can you believe it – Nicky came with us!
She sat on Fliss’s bed, smiling. “Why don’t you show your friends round a bit,” she suggested. So Fliss gave us a guided tour of her wardrobes – yes, she has two! Then her drawers with all her clothes colour coordinated
“These are my second best tops and T-shirts,” she said, “but these…” she added, opening another cupboard, “are my very best. For special occasions only.” They were neatly folded like they have them in the shops. Some were still in plastic covers to keep them perfectly clean.
We all knew Fliss was mad about clothes, but until then we hadn’t realised it was like a religion with her. I could see Kenny looking for the nearest exit and when Nicky suggested to Fliss we might want to play some games next, I thought I might join her.
I had a horrible feeling Nicky might have made us a Pin the Tail on the Donkey and we’d spend the whole night pretending to have a really, spiffing, jolly time. Even Fliss was feeling embarrassed by now.
“Actually, Mum,” she said, “I think we might just sit and… talk for a bit.”
“OK,” Nicky said, brightly, but just went on sitting there!
Fliss screwed her face up and said, “Mu-u um…” until Nicky finally got the hint.
“I’ll just leave you to it then, shall I?” she said, closing the door.
We’d all just let out our breath for the first time since we arrived when she was suddenly back. “But let me know if there’s anything you need. I could bring you a drink in half an hour when you’re ready for bed.”
Half an hour! She had to be joking.
“We’ll let you know, Mum,” Fliss said between gritted teeth, firmly closing the door behind her.
Even after we heard Nicky’s footsteps going downstairs we went on sitting there, feeling really awkward. And then a terrible thing happened: Fliss burst into tears.
“Oh, it’s been horrible, hasn’t it?” she sobbed. “You’ve all hated it. You’ll never come again. You won’t be my friends any more. I don’t blame you; nobody likes me!”
This was far worse than anything that had happened so far. Kenny and I didn’t know what to do. But good old Lyndz went and sat beside Fliss and put her arm round her.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “It’s been… lovely. We don’t know each other very well yet; it’s bound to be a bit awkward the first time.”
Kenny and I tried not to look like we were thinking: you can say that again.
And then Lyndz’s next suggestion had us both ready to bolt.
“I know a little game we could play,” she said.
“What kind of game?” Kenny asked suspiciously.
“We’ll need a pen and a sheet of paper each. We fold the paper into a fan and we put our name on it,” Lyndz told us.
“Then what?” I asked, equally suspiciously.
“We pass the fan round and everyone has to write something nice on it, something they like about us. They’re called friendship fans…” Lyndz trailed off. She was looking at me, sort of appealingly.
In the end I just shrugged and said, “OK, why not?”
I didn’t look at Kenny. I knew she’d have plenty of reasons why not if I gave her half a chance. But afterwards even Kenny had to admit it was actually a fun thing to do, because everyone had something nice or funny or surprising written about them.
Everyone told Lyndz what a good laugh and a great person she was and how we even loved her smiley knees, which she has a thing about – and her hiccups, which she gets all the time!
I’m not being bigheaded, but I got lots of comments about being a good leader and having all the best ideas and being the person everyone would want with them if they were ever stranded on a desert island – you know the kind of stuff.
But most surprising were the things Fliss and Kenny wrote about each other.
Kenny said she thought Fliss was a bit of a genius when it came to colours and clothes and things. And while she didn’t give a stuff about them most of the time herself it would probably be good to have Fliss’s talent – in case you ever needed it.
And Fliss wrote how Kenny was her all-time hero. She said she thought Kenny was the bravest, most fearless person she’d ever met and she really wanted to be more like her, instead of being scared of everything. She said she couldn’t believe someone like Kenny would want to be friends with someone like her.
When Kenny heard that she went very…pink and did what she always does when she’s embarrassed: started pulling ridiculous faces and behaving like an idiot until she had us all rolling around on the floor in hysterics.
That completely broke the ice. Then things just got better and better and the sleepover really got going.
Can you remember your first sleepover? It’s always special, isn’t it? Sort of the best. Well, this one started off the worst – but then it was the best. A lot of the things that we do now whenever we have our sleepovers, we thought up that first night.
International Gladiators was Kenny’s idea and, because it was Kenny’s idea, Fliss was determined to give it a go. She wanted to prove she wasn’t a wimp and could be pretty fearless too.
The first event Kenny came up with was called Barging Contests. We have to get into pairs, one on the other’s back, like we’re horse riding. The two riders have to try to knock each other off using only their elbows, or sometimes a squishy pooh. A squishy pooh can be a sleeping bag, or a pillow case filled with clothes or cushions, that you swing at your opponent trying to knock her off. It can be pretty wild, especially when Kenny’s on the other end of the squishy pooh.
Having seen Fliss’s bedroom, I never thought she’d go for it in a gazillion years. She has enough ornaments and toys around to open a shop. But in minutes she’d cleared everything breakable out of the way and was on Lyndz’s back ready to do battle.
“Let’s go, go, go!” she squealed, hanging on to Lyndz for dear life and whirling her squishy pooh around her head.
“Prepare to meet the floor!” Kenny warned her.
“You wish,” Fliss replied.
I’ve probably made Fliss sound a bit of a fuss-pot (which she can be) and a bit of a cry baby (which she used to be), but Fliss is lots of other things too. She can be fierce when it’s a competition; she loves to win as much as Kenny does, and she really gave her a run for her money.
“Bulls eye!” Fliss shrieked every time she caught Kenny off guard. If Kenny wasn’t so tough Fliss would have had her off loads of times. I knew how hard Kenny was trying by the way she was digging her heels into me. Kenny’s such a brilliant aim, she hardly ever misses, but Fliss was brilliant too – at ducking. Several times Kenny missed her completely and nearly fell off herself.
In fact Fliss was doing so well she started getting cocky. Big mistake.
“So who’s got a date with the floor?” Fliss asked grinning, and forgetting to duck.
Wham! Kenny caught her full in the face. She fell backwards on to the bed carrying her horse with her. The pair of them landed so heavily the whole house seemed to shake.
In moments Nicky burst into the room expecting to find one of us fatally injured. Instead she found Fliss and Lyndz lying on the bed with their legs in the air, screaming with laughter.
“It’s OK, Mum, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Fliss told her. “Nobody broke anything.”
“I think you won,” Fliss told Kenny afterwards.
But Kenny admitted, “It was a close thing.”
After our mad half hour we thought we’d perhaps better quieten down a bit and at least start getting ready for bed. Then we all suddenly got a bit shy around each other again, so Fliss said we could get undressed in the bathroom. But Lyndz said, “No need,” and she taught us all this brilliant technique she called Sleeping Bag Striptease.
“This is what you do,” she said, wriggling down inside her sleeping bag until only her head was poking out, and started flinging her clothes out around the room and finally pulling on her PJs. Then she sat up looking a bit hot and bothered, but grinning from ear to ear.
When we timed ourselves, Kenny was the fastest, even though it was the first time she’d ever done it. But Fliss was almost as fast.
That twenty seconds record that Kenny set has been beaten lots of times since. Not by me, I might add, because I’m too tall. There’s never as much room in my sleeping bag and I often end up with both legs down the same trouser leg. It’s not easy being a beanpole, you know.
Once we were all ready for bed came the best part: the midnight feast. We’d all brought secret supplies and, after we were quite sure Nicky wasn’t coming back in, we turned off all the lights and sat round in a circle with our torches on. Kenny said we should put all the food together in a bowl that we’d made Fliss sneak down to the kitchen to borrow.
“You can’t possibly mix smoky bacon crisps with Skittles and fruit jellies,” Fliss said, horrified.
“Watch me,” Kenny said, busy tearing packets open.
Then we passed the bowl round and all tucked in. It was a bit like a lucky dip, not knowing what you’d pull out. Afterwards the crumbs and stuff left in the bottom did look a bit of a mess: “Like Nappy’s brain,” I said.
There’s a really annoying boy who lives next door to me, called Nathan, but I call him Nappyhead. If he had a brain, which I doubt, it would probably look just like that bowl of mangled leftovers.
“Somebody should eat it,” Kenny said, grinning. “I dare Lyndz.”
But before Lyndz had chance to say anything, Fliss said, “I’ll do it,” and stuffed her mouth full to bursting, while the rest of us made being sick noises.
“Whoa! Way to go, Fliss,” Lyndz said and we all cheered. There was definitely more to Fliss than we’d realised.
Although it was getting really late by now no one wanted to get into bed and go to sleep.
“Tell us a story, Frankie,” Kenny said.
“What kind of story?”
“Scary,” said Lyndz, grinning, “at least a bit scary.”
“Yeah, full of blood and guts,” Kenny said, drawing her top lip back and baring her teeth so she looked like a vampire.
But being scared half to death in her own bedroom was not one of the things Fliss was up for. “I don’t do scary,” she said firmly. “I’ll have nightmares.”
“Not with us here, you won’t,” Kenny promised. Famous last words.
While the other two sat right beside her with their arms round her shoulders, I made up this story about a bloodsucking vampire called Vladimir that lives at the top of the Clock Tower in the middle of Leicester.
“He can make himself invisible so he can slip into your bags and follow you home when you’ve been shopping,” I told them.
“Don’t say that,” Fliss begged. “I’m always round there shopping with my mum. I’ll never dare go again,” she wailed.
“For goodness sake, it’s a story,” Kenny said. “Get on with it, Frankie.”
“One day he slipped into the shopping bag of a girl called F-f-f…
“Oh, don’t make it Fliss,” she begged.
“Fiona,” I said. “When she got home Fiona opened her shopping to show her sister and little did she realise that the vampire had slipped out unseen into her bedroom, waiting for his moment to re-materialise.”
While I was telling the story I shone my torch under my chin and grinned, which Fliss said made me look really spooky and a bit like a vampire.
“Later,” I went on, “when the girl was lying in bed, all on her own, Vladimir slid over and sank his long vampire’s teeth into her soft white neck…”
When I looked over at Fliss she was holding on to her own neck as if she thought the vampire was in the room with us. By the time I’d finished even Lyndz was looking a bit sick. Kenny, of course, was grinning from ear to ear. She loves talking about blood so much I sometimes think she might have been a vampire herself in a previous life.