Amy Mah - A Bad Hair Day Everyday

Reardon Publishing

PO Box 919, Cheltenham, GL50 9AN, UK, EU.

www.reardon.biz

Copyright © Reardon Publishing

Written by and Copyright © Amy Mah

www.amymahvampire.com

Illustrations by Heby Sim

Layout and Design by Nicholas Reardon

ISBN: 9781873877951

Contents

A Bad Hair Day : Book 2 A Bad Hair Day Everyday Book Two

School and the Art of War

Analysis

The Thrill of a Good Fight

It Started With a Kiss

Bonding and Chocolate

Work and the Sisterhood

Trading Experiences

The Power of Mr. Tan

Dim Sum Sleep Over

Taking Stock

Getting used to each other

Taking Control

Lifes a Test

Exam Blues

A Nice, Peaceful Day

All for One and One for All

A Trap is Sprung

Strings

Morning

Tournament

The future

Book 3

Other Books

Fangs Rule

Vampire

Smoking Hot

A Bad Hair Day : Book One

A Bad Hair Day

Everyday

Book Two

School and the Art of War

The Coach had them all stay late, and Abbey thought that no one could have assembled an odder group of students if they had tried.

First was Sue. She was a large girl, but not in a fat way, as she was an ex-ice-hockey player who apparently had been thrown off the girl’s team for excess violence to other players, including those on her own team. In its infinite wisdom, the school had enrolled her in an anger-management course, which included martial arts training. She could now do things with a quarterstaff that ruled her out of ever being allowed to join a hockey team—or, in fact, any team sport. Abbey expected firearms training would be next on the anger-management list!

Next was Jilly Tan. She was Oriental and was even shorter than Abbey but made up for it by having a massive ego. She must have had a private trainer since she was born, and she was good at everything connected to fighting: not just good, but outstandingly good, and she knew it. If her father hadn’t had plans for her to take over the family business, she could have easily turned professional. Abbey couldn’t help but wonder what type of city finance business they had that required martial arts training.

Third, of course, was Zoe the love of her life, who had only joined to be close to her. But she was getting better all the time, if you could call the love of using fighting batons or anything hard she could hit people with a character-building trait. Zoe looked soft and gentle but was a lot tougher than she looked. Only last week one of the football jocks had found out the hard way not to make fun of her locks of blonde Hair. He was over six feet tall and must have weighed over two hundred pounds. His first mistake was to make fun of Zoe just before her period, and his second was to forget to wear his cup. Abbey blamed Zoe’s mother; if she hadn’t insisted on all the extra biology lessons, she was sure Zoe wouldn’t have been able to bring the footballer to his knees with just one hand slipped gently inside his shorts.

The last in the quartet was, of course, herself, and she was far more of a misfit than any of the others: a freak, monster, or a genetic experiment. She didn’t know or, recently, even care. Zoe’s love helped keep her sane, and apart from worrying about her underwear dissolving whenever Zoe was close or making sure that her psychopathic Hair didn’t try and kill someone while she wasn’t looking, life was good.

Abbey looked again at the other three and thought they were less a “team” and more of a “soap opera!” Just then, the Coach returned. When she heard what he had planned, she mentally changed “soap opera” to “cartoon!” To help with her people skills, he had decided that Jilly Tan was going to spend time training them up before the next inter-school match.

All eyes looked at Jilly, and Abbey gave another amendment to the imaginary piece of paper, underlining cartoon but adding in parentheses “(not the Walt Disney sort)” but instead the Japanese type of cartoon that has a 15-rated warning for violence on it and lets the characters get killed off while there are still ten minutes left until the end. The words “Jilly” and “people skills” so did not go together that she wondered whether perhaps they could kill her while the Coach wasn’t looking if they all worked together?

Jilly stepped forward and produced a clipboard, which apparently had their names and details on it. She read aloud each of their skills and faults, but with greater emphasis on the faults, which was just another one of her aggravating habits. She was also very intelligent, and she knew it, too.

With the Coach still watching, she called them over to her one at a time to use their skills against her. Sue chose the quarterstaff and spun it with such force and speed that Abbey expected Jilly’s head to roll across the hall minus a body. However, the staff did not even reach her body; as it was still moving through the air, Jilly plucked it effortlessly out of Sue’s hands, leaving Sue instantly weaponless and Jilly now armed with a quarterstaff.

“Strength in fighting is a bonus, but without skill, it is useless,” remarked Jilly.

“You next, Zoe.”

Zoe grabbed two fighting batons, which were similar to the old sort of police baton—a format that could give the user two feet of extra reach with each arm. In the hands of someone like Zoe, they could cause the maximum level of pain with little risk retaliation.

Jilly had armed herself with the same weapons, but the force of Zoe’s strikes had driven Jilly into a corner and made her drop one of the batons. Jilly then threw down her remaining baton in a huff and almost looked as if she were going to burst into tears! Zoe had won! Abbey saw a smile on her face as she looked in her direction, so what happened next came as a shock to both Abbey and Zoe.

Jilly stepped forward, grabbed both of Zoe’s baton tips and forced them back with such force that Zoe had to let go before her wrists snapped. Then a foot shot out and tripped Zoe so that she hit the floor hard. Before she could move, a baton was pressed down into her throat, stopping any thoughts of getting up.

“Force in an attack is good, mercy to an opponent can be good, but to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory is crass stupidity!”

Jilly then looked towards Abbey.

“She’s using our best skills back against us,” thought Abbey. “Bursting into tears was just the sort of ploy Zoe would have used to put off an opponent!”

Abbey faced her with her long blonde Hair loose and just her hands as weapons. Jilly undid her own hair, which was jet black, and also let it fall loose. Abbey stood relaxed.

“Okay, Jilly! Just try and duplicate me! This should be interesting, as even I don’t know fully what I can do!” she thought.

As Abbey stood in her relaxed stance, her mind was rushing out commands to various parts of her body. She warned the Hair to be on guard but to also be careful, as they were being watched.

Jilly performed a sudden spin, which forced Abbey out of her normal stance, and also flicked her with her black strands of hair, which had something attached to them. She felt the sting of the flesh being cut on her hands where the hair touched her skin.

Abbey spun herself out of range at the same time as Jilly vanished from her sight, and she lashed backwards with a reverse kick intended to surprise Jilly, who had somehow been able to get behind her. It would have taken out a normal opponent but had somehow missed Jilly and left Abbey slightly unbalanced. She hardened her hands, and with a move as fluid as water corrected her balance and sent in a shower of blows that should have given her something to think about—if only they had connected—but they only found empty air.