“On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you right now?” I ventured, breaking the silence.
“A billion,” answered my dad immediately.
“A billion and five,” answered my mum after a brief pause.
“That bad huh?” I sighed, biting my lip.
“What did you expect?” yelled my dad angrily, “you destroyed your head masters office.”
“He deserved it for being such a sour puss,” I replied.
“KAYCEE,” screamed my mum, “JUST KEEP QUIET.”
I looked at the floor. This was going to be a long day.
FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER
“Run,” I yelled at Chantelle my best, and only, friend.
“I am,” she yelled back.
We careered around a corner in the hallway.
“Miss Trent, Miss Jonessy, stop running and come into my office NOW,” shouted the head masters voice over the intercom.
We skidded to a stop and burst out laughing. I guess they found the locker full of lumpy custard, Farah’s locker to be precise; the cheerleader with loose knickers elastic. Slowly we made our way to the office and tried, key word tried, to hold in our laughter as we passed Farah. Her blonde hair was coated in slimy custard as well as her uniform. We were sent straight into the head masters office and he was so red he looked like he would self combust any minute. We bit our lips to stop laughing and sat down on the red chairs facing his desk.
“Did you have anything to do with the custard in Miss Hertfield’s locker?” he asked impatiently.
“Yup,” me and Chantelle chorused in union, no point in lying.
“Why?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Cos she is a witch,” answered Chantelle.
“A witch with loose knickers elastic,” I carried on.
“Yeah, and she threw custard at us in the dinner hall,” finished Chantelle.
“So you thought you would FILL HER LOCKER WITH CUSTARD AS REVENGE????” he bellowed.
“Yup,” we chorused again, popping the p.
He stomped out the room with a firm warning to not touch anything.
“Did you see his face?” laughed Chantelle.
“He looked like he was going to self combust,” I laughed.
She stood up and sat on his desk with a smirk. Standing up too I pushed her and she fell across his desk. His papers swirled around the room and his pencils flew at the wall. I laughed maniacally as she stood up, her hair messed up and her face annoyed. She sprung at me and we rolled around the floor. We’re them friends that you see that act like maniacs at all times, trashing things, play fighting, playing pranks yet still getting good grades. Smacking into the cabinet it wobbled precariously before falling over. We stood up and threw the files in it at each other as we ducked and weaved around the desk. I ran out of files, so I opened a drawer in his desk and extracted a heap of paperwork. Yelling I threw them into the air and they came down in a shower. Chantelle laughed and joined me in rummaging through the drawers. I found a stapler and some paper. I threw the paper and let her hurl staples at them. A good five minutes later and everything was either broken, knocked over or crumpled.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” screamed the head master in shock.
Looking up guiltily I saw him stood in the door, his face horrified. I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.
