Bella's Backyard Bullies Page 3

  Chloe helps Yiayia to a winged chair while the rest of us sit on a couch shaped like a space shuttle.

  ‘I’m so excited,’ Chloe says. ‘I can’t wait to have my sighting officially confirmed.’ She takes a USB stick from her backpack and waves it like a winning lottery ticket.

  ‘What do you think they’ll name the comet?’ I ask. ‘You know, I was with you at the time, so Bella could be a great name.’

  I’m joking. Kind of.

  Chloe grins at Yiayia. ‘Well, the official name will be a combination of letters and numbers,’ she says. ‘But I’d like to call the comet Eleni.’

  ‘Oh, paidi mou.’ Yiayia’s voice wobbles.

  Yiayia’s real name is Eleni. It makes complete sense that Chloe would want to name the comet in her honour. Yiayia’s her favourite person in the solar system. Or the galaxy. No, the universe.

  A woman in pink-framed glasses arrives in the foyer. She actually looks like how I imagine Chloe will look in about thirty years.

  ‘Hello there, I’m Professor Jenkins, the chief astronomer here. You must be Chloe Karalis.’ She extends her hand to Yiayia.

  Chloe steps up and takes the professor’s hand. ‘I’m Chloe,’ she says. ‘Thank you for seeing me.’

  Professor Jenkins stares at Chloe, then eventually smiles. ‘Sorry, I didn’t expect a child, but, looking back, I was constantly gazing through my telescope at your age. I never discovered a comet, mind you.’

  Chloe giggles nervously as Professor Jenkins guides us along a corridor lined with framed photographs of constellations and planets. She waves for us to enter a room with a huge round table and about a dozen empty seats. A computer and projector are in the middle of the table and a white screen hangs on the wall.

  ‘Chloe, I’ll see the images before I invite my colleagues in,’ Professor Jenkins says. ‘Just so I can be sure that what we’re looking at is a comet and that I’m not wasting anyone else’s time.’

  Chloe inserts the USB stick into the computer. An icon named ‘Bella’s first Christmas’ pops onto the screen.

  Chloe glares at me. ‘That’s odd,’ she says through clenched teeth. ‘I created a folder of photos called “Comet Discovery”.’

  A queasy feeling takes over my tummy. This makes no sense whatsoever.

  Professor Jenkins smiles politely. ‘Why don’t we open that file and see what’s inside? There may have been a mix-up with the labelling.’

  Chloe inhales deeply. Her hand shakes as she clicks the mouse.

  ‘Oh no,’ I whisper.

  The screen is filled with a giant photo of me in a nappy and crown, holding a sparkly sceptre.

  ‘My first Christmas,’ I say. ‘And my first spew-worthy princess presents.’

  Chloe tips her bag upside down and scatters pens and papers across the table. ‘There obviously has been a mix-up,’ she says. ‘The right USB stick must still be in your lounge room, Bella, or at the treehouse.’

  Professor Jenkins raises an eyebrow. ‘The treehouse?’

  Chloe ran through her presentation with the anti-princesses at my place yesterday. Somehow, she’s picked up the stick with my baby photos instead of her comet pics.

  ‘I’ll call home,’ I say. ‘Mum should be there. She might be able to bring it to us. My house is just a few minutes away.’

  Professor Jenkins taps her foot. ‘Does anyone have a mobile?’

  Yiayia smiles sheepishly. ‘I can’t use those things. The screens are too tiny for my old eyes.’

  The only anti-princess who owns a phone is Emily, but she shakes her head. ‘I’m so sorry, guys, it’s out of credit.’

  The professor glances at her watch. ‘You can use the phone at reception, but you will need to be quick. I have another appointment to get to.’

  I tear back to the foyer and ask the receptionist to dial my home number. She passes me the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’ It’s Mum.

  ‘Mum, it’s Bella.’

  ‘You are in trouble, young lady. The bus driver just called me…’

  ‘Mum, Mum, please, I need you to have a look for…’

  ‘Bella, you’re grounded.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘No buts.’

  Beep. Beep. Beep. She’s hung up. This is a disaster.

  I run back along the corridor and pass Professor Jenkins on the way.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, ‘I need to go. I’m very busy and don’t have time for this nonsense.’

  I get to the boardroom and find Chloe sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Yiayia is stroking her hair.

  ‘Don’t worry, Chloe,’ I say. ‘We’ll find the right stick, and the professor will meet with us again. You’ll see. ’

  Emily grabs a piece of paper from Chloe’s pile and scrawls a note in red pen.

  I hug Chloe, Yiayia and Emily goodbye outside the observatory. No one says a word. Sometimes silence is best when you’re upset.

  I decide to go with Grace to her house. If I’m grounded I may as well make the most of my last afternoon of freedom.

  Grace sits on my handlebars and I double her along the four blocks to her street. We’re coming up to her driveway when Grace screams, ‘Watch out, Bella!’

  I squeeze the brakes and the bike screeeeeeeeches to a halt. My back tyre leaves a long black skid mark on the footpath.

  As I catch my breath, it takes me a minute to figure out what’s wrong.

  Not one, not two, but five soccer balls are rolling across the path. Another one appears. And another.

  ‘Where are they coming from?’ I ask.

  Grace leaps off the handlebars. ‘There!’

  We spot a figure as it darts behind a jacaranda tree a few metres away.

  Grace sprints to the tree. Three boys jump out from behind a row of bins and start running down the street. Big mistake.

  Grace sets off at a phenomenal pace and easily catches up to them. She throws her arms around one of the boy’s legs, tackling him to the ground. He tries to wriggle away, but Grace is too strong.

  I ride closer and realise who it is that she has squished to the ground. Rat Vermin.

  ‘You could’ve caused an accident,’ I say.

  Rat just writhes like a slippery fish trying to escape Grace’s clutches.

  The other vermin Vernons have come to a stop up ahead.

  ‘Come on, Matt!’ Mop Hair calls.

  Rat sighs and stops struggling. ‘I can’t move, Mark!’ he calls back. ‘She’s got me!’

  The brothers trudge back towards us, admitting defeat. Grace releases Rat and he jumps up. His knees are grazed.

  ‘You okay?’ Grace asks him.

  Mop Head Mark pushes his injured brother aside. ‘Get the balls and take Michael and Marlow home.’ He glares at Grace. ‘You think you’re a boy or something? You’re too rough to be a girl.’

  Grace folds her arms. ‘What’s your problem with us?

  Mark ignores the question and points at her backpack. ‘You’ve got my ball in there,’ he says. ‘I want it back.’

  Grace clutches it tightly. ‘This is not your ball, it’s mine. Yours is still at the treehouse.’

  ‘Don’t lie. Why would you have a soccer ball in your bag?’ Mark lunges for the backpack and Grace quickly steps aside out of his reach.

  ‘It’s mine,’ she repeats. ‘Leave me alone.’

  Mark clenches his jaw. I’m not sure if he cares more about the ball or about Grace outmanoeuvring him.

  I climb off my bike and morph into Bodyguard Bella. I stand between Mark and Grace. ‘Look, vermin Vernon, Grace coaches a soccer team, okay? Of course she owns a soccer ball.’

  Mark cackles nastily, like a cat coughing up a fur ball. ‘Yeah, right,’ he says. ‘Well, if that’s true, I guess we’ll be playing against you in your dad’s tournament.’

  Grace holds her hand out for him to shake. ‘May the best team win.’

  Mark ignores Grace’s hand. He gives up on the ball and runs off to his brothers.


  Grace turns to me. ‘Dad hasn’t mentioned any tournament. What have I got myself into?’

  I pat her on the back. ‘Whatever it is, we can handle it,’ I say. ‘You’ll just need to call some extra training sessions, super coach!’

  Our driveway is empty, which means Mum and Dad have left for work. That’s a good thing. It’s been a wild day and I’m not ready for a scolding about the bus fight.

  Our babysitter, Louis, is watching TV with Max. I try to sneak past.

  ‘You’re a bit late, Bella,’ Louis calls. ‘Do you know what time it is?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I think my watch must be broken.’

  Louis’s eyes return to the cartoons on the TV. He won’t tell my parents. He’s cool like that.

  I decide to check my emails before I begin the search for Chloe’s USB stick of comet photos. A new message pops onto my screen.

  Another email pings in my inbox.

  I should’ve seen Grace’s mission coming.

  I’m sure the Anti-Princess Club soccer team is up to the challenge, but right now my mind is preoccupied with Mission Eleni.

  I run to the lounge room and start rifling through magazines on the coffee table.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Louis asks.

  ‘I’m looking for a USB stick, have you seen one?’ I ask.

  ‘Haven’t seen anything like that here today.’

  Max stretches his neck to try to see the TV behind me. ‘Me neither,’ he says.

  ‘Maybe it’s in the treehouse,’ I say, running to the kitchen to grab the torch from under the sink.

  Outside, my breath makes a fog in front of my face and a few twigs snap under my boots. The backyard seems kind of eerie tonight. It almost feels as though I’m being watched.

  I shine the torch around the yard. ‘Hello?’

  I think I hear footsteps near the treehouse. I point the light towards the ladder. ‘Who’s there?’

  I keep the light on the ladder and pick up the pace. I don’t run. The ground is too uneven and I don’t want to trip in the dark.

  ‘Is someone there?’ I call again.

  I sense movement on the other side of the yard and point the torch at the fence. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see a figure just outside of the light cast by my torch.

  ‘You’re trespassing!’ I yell.

  Louis and Max come running out onto the back deck.

  ‘Are you okay, Bella?’ Max calls.

  I shine the torch towards the back fence just in time to see the top of the trespasser’s head as he or she jumps over and runs away.

  ‘There was someone here!’ I call back. ‘I think they were in the treehouse.’

  Max and Louis follow me to the ladder.

  ‘I’m not letting you into the treehouse alone,’ Louis says. ‘Not now.’

  The three of us climb up and I shine the torch around the first floor. The cushions that I stacked earlier are scattered. Half a dozen chocolate wrappers are strewn on the floor. My comics have obviously been rifled through.

  ‘Someone’s definitely been here,’ Max says. ‘I think I heard some strange noises down here last night as well.’

  I climb to the second floor and drop to my knees.

  ‘What is it, Bella?’ Louis asks.

  I point my torch at the wall.

  They didn’t get to finish. The spray paint is so fresh it’s dripping.

  Emily wants to declare war on the Vernons. Her dad is serving overseas in the Army, and he has taught her a thing or two about combat.

  ‘I think one, or all, of the vermin Vernons must be Angry,’ I say. ‘But how do we prove it?’

  Emily paces around the picnic table, scratching her chin. ‘There are four of them,’ she says. ‘And there are four of us.

  ‘Our strategy is simple: isolate and interrogate. Without their brothers as reinforcements they’ll be easier targets.

  ‘Tell your assigned vermin his brothers have confessed if you need to. Don’t be afraid to lie – it’s called propaganda.

  ‘As soon as we can rule one brother out, we move to the next one. It will be a simple process of elimination.

  ‘Rest assured, we will find out if the vermin Vernons and Angry are one and the same – and when we do, we’ll report them to the police for cyberbullying, trespassing and theft.’

  ‘HUA!’ I yell. That’s an acronym for ‘heard, understood, acknowledged’ – Emily’s dad says it all the time.

  ‘I’ll take Mop Head,’ Emily says.

  Grace sticks her foot up on the table for a stretch. ‘I’ll take Rat – I mean, Matt. He won’t want to mess with me twice.’

  I turn to Chloe. ‘Any preference for Michael or Marlow?’

  ‘I guess I’ll watch Michael,’ Chloe says. ‘So you’ve got Marlow, Bella.’

  If only this plan were as simple as putting a piece of cheese in a trap. A giant, human-sized trap. Now that would be fun to build.

  ‘We need to follow them home from school today,’ Emily says. ‘Don’t let them out of your sights.’

  I groan. ‘I’m grounded, Emily. I really should head home straight after the bell.’

  The anti-princesses nod politely, but I can tell they’re disappointed that I won’t be able to track the vermin with them.

  ‘Well…I guess Louis won’t dob if I’m just a little late,’ I say. ‘But I can’t stay out after dark.’

  The vermin Vernons are kicking stones around at the school gate.

  Mark stops kicking and stares at us. He isn’t used to seeing all four of us here together. He notices we’re staring back and turns away as if he doesn’t care.

  When the bus pulls up, we don’t waste time. Chloe runs to Michael, I stand by Marlow, Grace blocks Matt’s path and Emily grabs Mark’s hand.

  ‘Get out of my way,’ Michael says to Chloe. ‘I’m sitting with my brothers.’

  Chloe won’t move. She follows him all the way to the back of the bus until he’s stuck.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he asks.

  Chloe corners him against the window and braces her foot against the seat in front, blocking his way out.

  Grace, Emily and I follow Chloe’s lead, each taking a seat next to our assigned vermin.

  ‘You and your friends are lucky you’re girls,’ Marlow says to me. ‘If you were boys we would’ve punched you by now.’

  ‘Oh, thank you so much for not hurting us poor, weak girls,’ I say. ‘Personally, I don’t hit anyone. Even though I’m highly skilled in ninjutsu.’

  So, that’s a white lie. I’m still figuring out how to use my nunchucks and ninja stars.

  The vermin try to ignore us by staring out the windows, but we’re determined to annoy them into reacting.

  I start to put the pressure on Marlow. ‘You use computers much, Marlow?’

  He fiddles with his sneakers.

  ‘Come on, you must have an email address,’ I say. ‘What is it? I’d love to email you sometime.’

  Marlow stares straight ahead. He won’t make eye contact.

  ‘You know, I’m not much of a computer guru, but my friend Emily is,’ Chloe says to Michael. ‘I’m more of a scientist.’

  Michael’s left eye twitches. Something Chloe said has caught his interest.

  ‘What about you, Michael?’ she asks. ‘What are you good at? Sending emails?’

  ‘Science,’ he blurts out. ‘I like science too.’

  Chloe is stumped. She didn’t expect to have anything in common with the vermin. How could someone so despicable share her passion?

  ‘Why are you so nasty?’ she manages to ask.

  Michael twiddles his thumbs. ‘Well…’

  Mark leans across Emily to get Michael’s attention. ‘Don’t say anything,’ he tells his little brother. ‘She’s trying to trick you.’

  The bus comes to a stop and Mark grabs his backpack. ‘Let’s get off, boys,’ he says. ‘It’s a stop early, but it stinks a bit in here.’

 
The anti-princesses get up too. ‘We’re coming with you,’ Emily says. ‘Maybe you should try wearing a little deodorant if you don’t like the smell.’

  Mark guffaws and walks up the aisle with the other vermin. The anti-princesses follow them down the steps and onto the street, where we power-walk two steps behind them. We refuse to get off their ratty tails.

  ‘Come on, vermin,’ I say. ‘Which one of you was it?’

  We follow them all the way to their front lawn and watch them march into their house. We don’t want to get arrested for trespassing, so we park our bums by their mailbox.

  ‘We’re not going anywhere!’ Grace calls out. ‘You can’t hide forever!’

  There’s movement inside. Someone pulls apart the window blinds. A woman peers out.

  Then the front door opens and the woman steps outside. She shields her eyes from the late-afternoon sun and squints towards us. ‘Emily Martin, is that you?’

  The woman’s white-blonde hair and spindly arms are unmistakable. It’s the director of the beauty pageant! Her name is Fiona, but Emily nicknamed her Hungry because she’s the thinnest adult we’ve ever seen.

  ‘Are you here to play with my boys?’ Hungry asks. ‘They just arrived home. How lovely to have some little girls in the house! Let me set up a tea party for you all!’

  Her boys?

  Emily’s eyes are as wide as my circular saw. Chloe gently elbows her.

  ‘Ah, no, thank you,’ Emily says. ‘We have to go.’

  We all take off around the corner in the direction of Grace’s house.

  ‘Hungry is the mother of the vermin Vernons!’ I yell. ‘I smell a rat – or four.’

  Grace’s dad is leaning over the engine of her family’s minivan. He wipes a dipstick on his overalls and slides it back into place.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ Grace says. ‘The girls and I are just going inside for a while. They won’t be staying too long.’

  Mr Bennett slams the bonnet closed. He clenches his teeth and mutters something under his breath.

  Grace backpedals. ‘What’s up? Is there something wrong with the minivan?’