Hey Baby!. Angie Bates

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      Look, pop over to Rosie’s with me and I’ll tell you all the really juicy details of our sleepover as we go. (Private joke!) I could do with the company. Don’t tell the others, but I’ve got butterflies in my tummy.

      You see, I promised Rosie I’d tell Mr and Mrs Quormby what really happened, and I can’t let her down, can I? I’m going to be someone’s big sister soon. I’ve got to practise being dead grown-up and sensible before he or she arrives.

      Didn’t I explain about the Quormbys? They’re Rosie’s new neighbours. They’ve got this really cool baby called Morgan. Mr Quormby’s the grim silent type. Mrs Quormby’s OK, but she’s such a fusspot! Can you believe she’d never ever left her precious little Morgan with anyone before? Not even for five minutes!

      Until last Friday that is…

      No one believes us, but the whole thing started out as an incredibly kind deed. Two kind deeds, if you’re counting.

      It began when Rosie’s big sister Tiff and her boyfriend Spud had a quarrel. We could tell Rosie was upset the minute she walked into the classroom. When Rosie’s upset, everyone knows about it. Of course, she won’t actually tell you what’s wrong for hours. Her star sign’s Cancer. Sensitive but secretive, that’s Rosie. She’s such hard work sometimes.

      It took us nearly all lunchtime to drag it out of her. Then instead of just telling us like a normal person, she turned on the waterworks. And once she gets started, that girl could cry for England.

      “Tiff and Spud broke up,” she choked. “I heard her sobbing through the wall. It was awful.”

      “Poor Tiffany,” said Fliss, with that mushy look she gets if anyone even mentions boyfriends.

      Tiff is Rosie’s big sister. She’s fifteen. Personally, I don’t think she’s that special. I mean, the way Rosie goes on you’d think she’s some kind of superstar. But when I pictured little Miss Perfect crying in the dark over some stoopid boy, I felt a bit upset myself. Even though I don’t like her. Weird, eh?

      “What about Adam?” asked Lyndz. “He really likes Spud, doesn’t he?” Lyndz has a soft spot for Adam.

      Rosie nodded miserably. “They talk about computers for hours.”

      I yawned. Computers are cool, but talking about them is incredibly sad. I suppose it’s different for Adam, though. He’s got cerebral palsy and his computer helps him speak and everything.

      “So of course Dad’s invited Adam to stay for the weekend,” Rosie moaned.

      Rosie and Adam are great mates. But that doesn’t stop her getting all churned up about how their dad spends more time with her brother than he does with her. She’s got this huge chip about how everyone in her family leaves her out. She’s always on about it, so now I switch off as soon as she starts.

      I tuned back in just as Rosie said, “So we can’t have the sleepover at my house after all. Mum says it’s not fair to Tiff.”

      Now, nothing and no one interrupts Sleepover business, OK? Especially not Tiffany Cartwright’s love life. I did some quick thinking.

      “Why don’t you tell us exactly what happened, Rosie,” I said cunningly. “Tell us everything. I mean, what did they fight about?”

      Kenny saw how my mind was working.

      “Yeah, Rosie,” she grinned. “We need inside info.”

      Rosie blinked with surprise. We mostly shut her up when she goes on about her family!

      “It’s obvious Tiff and Spud are in lurve,” I explained. “They just need a teensy bit of help. Then they’ll snap back together like… like… fridge magnets!”

      Lyndz, Kenny and Fliss cracked up. Even Rosie gave a feeble grin.

      I beamed. Crisis over. We’d get Tiff and Spud back together, no problem. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. And our sleepover could go ahead like we planned. YIPPEE!

      

      Wait a tick. I’m stopping the story right here. Sto-op!!!

      I’m not telling you another thing until you understand exactly why we hate the M&Ms so much. Because right now, you think we’re mean about them for no reason, don’t you? Admit it!

      It’s not just because they smarm up to the teachers all the time, you know. And get top marks in everything. Even though that’s incredibly icky of them. No, we hate them because they’re spiteful little toads who try to ruin everything for us. Don’t believe me? OK, I’ll prove it to you!

      Remember how I told you about Rosie blurting out that dead private stuff about Spud and Tiffany?

      Can you believe those creepy girls were actually spying on us the whole time, soaking up every word?

      Understand why we hate them now? Coo-ell! Then I’ll tell you the rest.

      It’s really true about them spying. When we went into our classroom, Emma Hughes started dabbing her eyes, pretending to cry. “Oh Emily, isn’t it too sad about Tiffany and Spud?”

      “Oh yes, Emma,” sniffled Emily. “I haven’t cried so much since my Gran’s budgie fell off its perch.”

      “Tiffany’s so-o-o beautiful,” sighed Emma.

      “And darling Spud is so-o-o hunky. Not!”

      They made being-sick noises.

      I thought Rosie was going to bop Emma one. She hasn’t had much practice dealing with the M&Ms and it shows. But don’t worry! Good ole Kenny was already on the case.

      “Frankie,” she said in a chatty voice, “do you think those sad little androids will ever get, you know, a life?”

      Honestly, I nearly kissed her. “I wish, Kenny,” I sighed. “They must be so-o-o bored.”

      “Yeah,” Lyndz joined in. “Why else would they hang around us all the time, earwigging people’s private conversations?”

      Emma Hughes’ mouth opened like a goldfish, but before she got a word out, Fliss started up.

      “I’m sorry for them, aren’t you?” she said in a saintly voice. “They must feel really empty inside.” She put on a tragic face, but we knew she was dying to laugh. We all were.

      Rosie finally caught on. “Do you think those poor girls secretly admire us?” she asked, all wide-eyed.

      “Could be,” Kenny agreed. “They’ll be copying us next. Having sad little sleepovers with Alana Banana.”

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