âIâm having first go!â
Kenny charged into the bedroom, elbowing the rest of us out of the way. We all squealed loudly, as she sent us flying in all directions.
âNo, youâre not,â Frankie said firmly, sticking her foot out and tripping Kenny up. âItâs my turn!â
âOw!â Kenny yelled. She fell forward, and collapsed face-down on the bed. âYou little toad, Francesca Thomas!â
âGet her!â Rosie shouted, and we all piled in on top of Kenny, screaming and laughing.
Just another normal sleepover, right? Right! You remember all of us, donât you? The Sleepover Club? Well, if you donât, youâll soon work it out!
âI think we should let Fliss have first go,â Rosie said in a muffled voice. Frankie was sitting on her head. âAfter all, sheâs the only one of us now who hasnât got a computer at home.â
Flissâs stepdad Andy did normally have a computer, but it was away being fixed. Someone (who shall remain nameless) had spilt nail varnish remover all over the keyboard, and it had gone bonkers!
âNah, I reckon we should arm-wrestle each other, and the winner gets to go first!â Kenny argued, trying to push me off the bed. I banged into Fliss, and she slid off the duvet and landed on the floor on her backside with a THWACK.
âNo, I reckon the tallest person should get first go,â Frankie said, rolling off Rosie.
âOh yeah, you would say that, beanpole!â Kenny scoffed.
âHow about the most sensible person?â Rosie suggested, sitting up and looking smug.
âOh, you mean Lyndz!â Kenny grinned.
âThanks a lot,â I said. âIâm not that sensible!â
The reason why we were all fighting over whoâd get first go on the computer was because we now had our very own website on the Internet. Yep, the Sleepover Club was online! I donât know if you remember, but we entered a competition to design a Home Page, and we won one of the runners-up prizes, which was to have our Sleepover Club site on the Net. We had a special section where people could send us messages, which was totally fab, and we were always arguing over whose turn it was to check them. So far weâd got emails from places like Canada, Norway and Germany â oh, and from Maria and our mates in Spain. (We met them when we went on that school trip, remember?)
âRosieâs right,â Frankie agreed. âLet Fliss have first go.â
âSo long as she hasnât got any nail varnish remover in her bag,â I said meaningfully.
Fliss wasnât listening. She was too busy rubbing her bottom, and staring round the room.
âWhy do boysâ bedrooms always smell funny?â she asked, wrinkling up her nose.
My brother Tomâs room was a complete tip. There were clothes all over the bed and on the floor, and the desk was covered with paints and books and CDs.
âItâs all those horrible smelly socks,â Kenny replied. She scooped one off the floor and threw it at Fliss. It hit her smack on the nose.
âKenny! Donât be so disgusting!â Fliss howled, as everyone else collapsed in giggles.
âCome on, Fliss,â I said quickly, before she had a fit. âFrankieâs right. You have first go.â
âWhyâs the computer in here, anyway, Lyndz?â Rosie asked, as Fliss sat down at the desk. âThe Sleepover Club won it, after all.â
Weâd won the computer in a radio competition in the summer, and the others were letting me look after it. But thatâs a whole different story!
âWell, Dadâs converting the loft into a study,â I explained, switching the monitor on, âbut thereâs nowhere else for the computer to go for the moment.â
My dadâs always doing stuff around the house. One minute a wallâs there â the next, it isnât! Itâs like living on a building site.
âItâs not fair,â Fliss grumbled, flicking her hair off her face. âWeâre the only ones who havenât got a computer now.â
âAnd whose fault is that?â Kenny snorted.
Fliss ignored her. âIâm going to ask Mum to buy me and Callum one of our own for Christmas.â
Kenny winked at us. âI thought your mum asked you if you wanted your own computer last Christmas.â
Fliss turned pink. âUm â she did,â she admitted. âBut she said if I got a computer, I couldnât have a whole load of new clothes. Soâ¦â
âYou went for the clothes,â Frankie grinned. âSurprise, surprise!â