The Sleepover Club Surfs the Net. Fiona Cummings

that Fliss was probably right.

      

      We were all really subdued as we trooped back into the classroom. We looked pretty funny still dressed in our Viking costumes, but nobody laughed. Even stupid Ryan Scott, who usually has a joke about everything, was silent.

      When Mrs Weaver came in she just sat at her desk for five minutes not saying anything, just staring at us. It was awful. When she finally spoke her voice was very, very quiet, but we knew by the tone of it that she was very, very cross.

      “I have been teaching for a very long time,” she told us. “And I have never been as ashamed of a class as I was of you just now. I do not expect World War Three to break out when we are trying to present an assembly about the Vikings. And I will not tolerate being made to look a laughing stock in front of the whole school.”

      Big red blotches had begun to spread on her cheeks. I looked at Kenny and Rosie who both pulled faces at me. Lyndz had her head down and Fliss looked as though she was about to cry.

      “I want you to take your maths books out and get on with your work quietly,” Mrs Weaver said. “And if I hear one peep out of any of you, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

      Well, that was the worst morning at school ever. It didn’t get any better either. At break time we had to put up with stupid kids pointing and laughing at us. But it was worse at lunchtime when the dreaded M&Ms sidled over to us.

      “I hope you’re happy,” hissed Emma Hughes. “It’s your fault that everything went wrong this morning. If you hadn’t been so la-di-da about the stupid Internet, Mrs Weaver would never have let you take over the assembly. Emily and I would have made a much better job of it.”

      “At least now she knows that you’re not capable of doing anything properly,” said Emily Berryman in her gruff voice. “And she’ll never trust you with anything again!”

      Then they both tossed their blonde hair and stalked away.

      “They are joking, aren’t they?” whispered Fliss. “Mrs Weaver can’t treat us like this for ever, can she?”

      “It’s Ryan Scott she should be cross with, acting like a mad axeman for no reason,” said Lyndz. “Although you did flatten him Kenny, which I don’t suppose looked very good.”

      “He deserved it, he was ruining everything,” explained Kenny. “I should have flattened those stupid M&Ms as well, for turning the stage into a skating rink.”

      “Yes, I really hurt myself when I fell,” moaned Fliss, rubbing her back.

      “None of us came out of it very well, did we?” I asked. “I think we should prove to Mrs Weaver that we do know how to behave properly. Then she just might forget about the assembly.”

      That afternoon we were extra good. We worked in total silence and we tidied up everywhere without being asked. Mrs Weaver was still angry though and it was a relief when the bell rang for home time.

      “Thank goodness that’s over!” sighed Rosie. We were just getting all our stuff together when Kenny cartwheeled past us down the playground.

      “Phew, that’s better!” she said when she was upright again. “I needed that. I’m sure all that keeping quiet isn’t good for you!”

      Lyndz and Fliss were already at the school gates with Fliss’s brother Callum.

      “What a bunch of losers!” he laughed when Kenny, Rosie and I joined them. “That assembly was funnier than the stuff you see on the telly. Only it wasn’t meant to be, was it? Ha, ha!”