Don't Kiss Girls and Other Silly Stories by Pat Flynn Page A

me?’
    â€˜Probably.’ Kane brushes back his hair like his idol, Steve Smith. ‘I’m the king at getting girls to like me for a second time. They never trust me again, but trust is overrated, anyway.’
    â€˜Well, how do you do it?’
    â€˜Why should I tell you? What can you do for me?’
    I think. ‘Umm.’
    A brainwave hits me. ‘I can get you and Megan free food. Anything you want.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜No worries. I’m tight with the manager. We’re like this.’
    I hold up crossed fingers.
    â€˜Promise?’ he says.
    â€˜Yep.’
    â€˜All right. Listen up, then.’ His voice is serious and I lean forward to catch every word. ‘To win Ashleigh back, you gotta compete.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜You’ve got to fight for her. Show her that you’re a better man than Devo by beating him at something.’
    â€˜That’s it?’
    â€˜Sure. Deep down, girls are just damsels in distress, and we’re the knights. They want us to fight each other to the death.’
    Hmm. I gotta figu re out how I can beat Devo and get Ash back. But firs t I need to get out of the toilet.
    Kane opens the door.
    â€˜Where are you going?’ I say, but it’s too late. He’s already walked out. He’s always leaving me when things get tough.
    If only I could fl y, or walk on walls. Or both. Super Spiderman.
    While I’m coming up with a plan involving tightrope toilet paper, the door opens. A plastic food tray slides towards me and stops a few metres away.
    â€˜You didn’t think I’d leave you here, did you?’ Kane says.
    â€˜Thanks,’ I say. Maybe he’s a better mate than I thought.
    He continues. ‘Not when you’re going to get us free food.’
    Yeah. Thanks.
    He nods at the tray. ‘Surf’s up.’
    I look at it for a moment, smile, then jump back and kick off the wall for extra height and power. In mid-air I extend my arms for balance, which is just as well because when I land on the tray with my feet slightly apart, it skims across the wet floor like a hovercraft. I nearly fall backwards, but years of skating down wet grass on cardboard is now coming in very handy.
    I’m flying across the toilet floor and thinking that this is the coolest job a bloke could ask for, when I realise that I need to stop. Now. And a plastic tray doesn’t have brakes. I’m about to hit the door so I do the only thing I can. I close my eyes.
    Bang!
    Kane must have kicked the door open because I go sliding through into the restaurant on my tray skateboard. I swerve past a little kid and scare an old lady, who drops her walking stick and yells at me as I fly past. I try to stop myself by grabbing onto the condiment stand, but all I do is knock down a tub full of straws.
    I come to a stop by running into the back of Sherie, who falls onto the front counter and into a tray of food. When she turns to face me, I can see that her white top is covered in chocolate topping. It looks delicious.
    â€˜Get out!’ she hisses.
    â€˜Aww, c’mon, Sherie—’
    â€˜Out!’
    â€˜All right. All right. But can I have my lunch first? You promised.’
    Her teeth clench together like a werewolf’s. She turns around and slides the tray of food towards her.
    â€˜Here’s your lunch.’
    But instead of handing me the tray, she takes a fry and spears it like a dart at my chest!
    â€˜Well done!’ says the old lady. ‘A good belting is the only thing young hoons of today understand.’
    I reach down to the floor and pick up the chip. Then I throw it at the old lady. ‘That’s for calling me a young hoon.’
    â€˜How dare you!’ she screams, tossing her Senior Burger like a frisbee at my head.
    I catch it. Sucked in, old lady.
    Then I get dunked from behind with a full cup of freezing soft