Little Darlings by Jacqueline Wilson Page B

I’m dead quiet at school. I don’t even talk to the teachers much.
    I liked my last school more, especially the teacher I had in Year Five, Miss Pendle. She lent me storybooks and gave me a gold star in literacyand said I had a Wonderful Imagination. I didn’t even mind when the other kids teased me for being a teacher’s pet. I
wanted
to be Miss Pendle’s pet. But now I’m in Year Six at Bilefield and I’m still looked on as the new girl. I’m not really anyone’s friend. The Year Six teacher is Mr Roberts. He’s very strict and shouty and is always giving us tests. He smells of tobacco and has a silly beard and gets damp patches under his arms, and no one in the world would want to be
his
pet.
    He doesn’t shout quite so much now because we’ve finished all our tests and half the time we’re mucking around instead of doing proper lessons. Mum’s daft to think I’d be missing out on anything by bunking off school now, but she won’t listen.
    I
don’t listen much when Mr Roberts starts chuntering on about us being the top of the school – we’ll soon be starting a whole new scholastic life at secondary school and isn’t it exciting? Yes, very exciting to be going to Bilefield Secondary, where the big kids stick your head down the toilet and nick your mobile and your money as soon as you start in Year Seven.
    Then he goes on about our Year Six end-of-year entertainment. I can’t get interested. He wants to call it
Bilefield’s Got Talent
– oh, very witty. Everyone groans and moans, especially when MrRoberts says we’ve
all
got to do an act whether we want to or not. Jack Myers says he’s not poncing about on a stage making a fool of himself, but Mr Roberts suggests he might like to get together with some of the other lads and do some kind of street dancing – and that shuts him up.
All
the boys want to street dance. They divide up into Flatboys and Speedos, apart from silly Ritchie and Jeff, who want to dress up in frocks and do a daft ballet dance, and Raymond Wallis, who actually can do ballet properly and wants to do a special acrobatic solo. Most of the girls want to dance too, singing along at the same time. There are two groups of girls who want to do Girls Aloud numbers.
    â€˜Fine, fine, but we could do with a little
variety
,’ says Mr Roberts. ‘Can’t any of you think of an act that’s a little bit different?’
    â€˜Yeah, OK, I’ll do a pole dance, Mr Roberts,’ says Angel Thomas.
    â€˜Well, maybe that’s a little
too
different,’ says Mr Roberts. ‘We’ll put that idea on hold, Angel. Perhaps you can do some kind of exotic dance, but a pole dance would get us both into a lot of trouble.’
    Natalie and Naveen and Saimah and Billie-Jo are whispering together.
    â€˜We want to do a play, Mr Roberts. Can we do our own play?’ asks Natalie.
    â€˜That’s an excellent idea,’ says Mr Roberts. ‘But you’ll need to do it properly, write it out and rehearse it, and it can’t be longer than ten minutes maximum. I’ll help you rehearse, girls. And boys, you need to choreograph your street-dance routine. We’ll see if Mrs Avery can help you get started, choose the right music. I want you all to take this very seriously. We’re going to entertain the whole school
and
your parents, so I want you all to give a cracking performance. We’ll sort out some kind of voting system and give a proper prize to the overall winner, OK? Now, who hasn’t chosen their act yet?’
    â€˜I can’t do nothing, Mr Roberts,’ says Hannah, sighing. ‘I can’t sing and I can’t dance.’
    â€˜Maybe you could join up with Natalie and co. and be in the play.’
    â€˜I can’t act either,’ says Hannah.
    â€˜Can I do magic tricks, Mr Roberts?’ says Fareed. ‘My dad’s shown me how to do heaps of