Friday Barnes 2 by R. A. Spratt Page B

denial because neither of them is terribly in touch with their emotions.’
    â€˜Melanie,’ said Friday.
    â€˜Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,’ said Christopher with a wink.
    â€˜I’m not marrying anyone,’ protested Friday.
    â€˜Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ said Melanie. ‘Sure,  you are a trifle odd, but you’re quite pretty when you’re not wearing your green hat and brown cardigan. Ian won’t be able to resist you forever.’
    Mercifully, thoughts of romance were soon forgotten when the students found themselves standing in the middle of a cold damp field, waiting for their turn to fire their rockets. Mr Davies had lined them up in a row and was personally supervising each launch. It was actually not quite as exciting as you mightimagine because there is a lot that can go wrong with a rocket: electrical faults, design failures, damp in the connectors. The first two rockets didn’t fire at all, which made the girls who built them giggle. They’d only joined the science club because word had got out that Christopher, the dreamy new boy, had put his name down.
    The third rocket did fire but then it spun in tight circles, never making it more than two metres off the ground before embedding itself nose-first in the cricket pitch.
    â€˜Oh dear, Mr Pilcher isn’t going to be happy about that,’ worried Mr  Davies. ‘He’s already got enough holes to deal with.’
    Then it was Ian’s turn. Friday and Melanie took a couple of steps back, just in case Ian had packed his rocket with chocolate pudding or some other prank. Ian nonchalantly held the launch button in his hand.
    â€˜When you’re ready, Mr  Wainscott,’ said Mr Davies.
    Ian smiled his smug smile, which made the girls giggle again. ‘Can I have a countdown, ladies?’ he asked.
    The girls giggled some more. Friday rolled her eyes. ‘This will be interesting. I wonder if they can count backwards from ten.’
    Evidently the girls did not like to stretch themselves, because they started from five. ‘Five … four … three … two … one … Blast off!’
    Ian pressed the launch button and … nothing happened. His face fell. He started to walk towards the rocket to see what the problem was.
    Friday instinctively did the same. Ian might be her nemesis but she never enjoyed seeing an experiment fail. They both arrived at the rocket at the same moment when suddenly WHOOOSH!, the rocket shot up in the air. Friday stumbled backwards and landed on her bottom. She looked up to see the rocket high in the sky.
    â€˜Eighty metres, eighty-five, ninety!’ came a crackly voice over Mr  Davies’ walkie-talkie. There was an observer standing on the roof of the administration building.
    â€˜Well done, Wainscott!’ said Mr  Davies, applauding enthusiastically.
    Ian smiled down at Friday. ‘Do you think you can beat that?’
    â€˜We’ll see,’ said Friday.
    â€˜Mr Gianos, you’re up next,’ said Mr Davies.
    Christopher stepped forward, made a couple of last-minute adjustments to his rocket, then stood back. He looked a little nervous.
    â€˜Would you like us to count down for you too?’ tittered Mirabella.
    â€˜No, thank you, I prefer to create dramatic tension in my own way,’ said Christopher. He turned and looked at Ian. ‘By saying kiss … my …’
    WHOOOSH!
    Christopher’s rocket took off. Straight away it was evident his rocket was going at a greater speed than Ian’s.
    â€˜Seventy metres … eighty metres …’ said the voice over the walkie-talkie.
    â€˜Well done, Gianos!’ exclaimed Mr Davies. ‘Ninety metres … one hundred!’ continued the voice on the radio.
    Christopher smiled and cocked his head at Ian, who glowered. The rocket was still going.
    â€˜One