Narinder Dhami - sleepoverclub.com

“I DON’T RECKON MUCH TO THIS SONG!” Kenny roared. And we all heard that because the song had suddenly finished, and the room was dead quiet. Kenny went as red as a ripe tomato.

“Actually, I don’t reckon much to it either, Kenny.” Tom grinned at us. “I think we’ll drop it, guys. What do you say?”

“Hey, I wrote that song!” said Dan, the drummer, indignantly.

“Tom’s right, man,” said Liam, who’s the lead singer and quite cool (even though I’m not into boys much).

“Nah, I think we should keep it.” That was Jack, the other guitarist.

“Oh, great, Kenny,” Frankie said. “You’ve split the band up before they’ve even done their first gig!”

Kenny shrugged. “Well, that song was rubbish!”

“The lead singer’s quite cute,” Fliss said dreamily.

“Better watch out, Flissy.” Kenny elbowed her in the ribs. “Or Ryan Scott will be getting jealous!”

“So, girls, has Lyndz been telling you how it feels to have a superstar for a brother?” Tom came over to us, still carrying his guitar.

“Who’s that then?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Funny!” Tom slapped me on the back. “Wait till I’m a famous rock star. I won’t give you a ride in my flash car, or on my private jet!”

“Oh, I’m dead upset!” I said, punching him on the shoulder.

Fliss was looking worried. “What if his band does become famous, Lyndz?” she whispered anxiously. “You’d better be nice to him.”

The others started giggling, but Fliss really was serious!

“Yeah, Fliss is right, Lyndz,” Tom said with a grin. “You can start by buying me a really cool present for my birthday – a sports car would be great!”

“What’s up, Lyndz?” Frankie asked, as Tom went back to join the rest of the band. “You’ve suddenly got a face on you like a totally wet weekend.”

“I forgot Tom’s birthday was coming up,” I said, biting my lip. “And I’ve just gone and spent all my money on new riding gear. I haven’t got enough left to buy him a prezzie.”

“I don’t think he really wants a sports car!” Rosie said.

“I can’t even afford to buy him a card with a picture of a sports car,” I sighed. I couldn’t believe I’d been so daft. I’d been saving for ages, and I really needed new jodhpurs and a riding hat. But if I’d remembered Tom’s birthday was coming up, I could’ve waited a bit longer. “I could kick myself.”

“I’ll do it for you, if you like,” Kenny joked, trying to cheer me up.

“Hey, brilliant idea alert!” Frankie whispered suddenly.

“I’m not borrowing any money from you lot,” I said firmly. “It’ll take me ages to pay it back.”

“It’s not that.” Frankie beckoned to us, and we all went into a huddle, like an American football team. “We could design a website for Tom about his band, and put it on the Net as a birthday surprise. What about it, guys?”

“We could do, like, a questionnaire thing for each member of the band,” Kenny suggested eagerly. “You know: what’s your favourite food, what’s your favourite colour, that kind of stuff.”

“That’s a great idea, Kenny,” I said, scribbling it down on my notepad. We’d all rushed off to my bedroom to plan the website, and we were looking at some of my old copies of Popstar magazine, to get some ideas.

“How are we going to ask things like that without them getting suspicious?” Rosie wanted to know.

“We’ll just have to be really clever about it,” I replied. “Anyway, Liam, Jack and Dan have been Tom’s mates for years – I already know quite a bit about them.”

“We ought to find out their star signs too.” Fliss pointed to a page in Popstar magazine, headed Star Horoscopes .

I wrote that down as well. “This is such a cool idea, Frankie,” I said gratefully. “Tom’s going to be well pleased.”

“And best of all, it won’t cost any cash!” Kenny said with a grin. “Hey, shouldn’t we have some photos of the band on there too?”

“Yeah, good idea,” Frankie agreed. “Have you got that camera your dad bought, Lyndz?”

I nodded.

“What about a film?” Fliss asked.

Frankie grinned. “It doesn’t need one,” she said.

Fliss, Kenny and Rosie stared at her.

“Don’t be daft, Francesca,” Kenny said. “You can’t take pictures without a film!”

“You can if it’s a digital camera,” Frankie explained. “My dad’s got one. The camera takes the picture, and then you connect the camera to your computer, and you can see the photo on the computer screen. Simple.”

We were all dead impressed.

“You know, Frankie, you’re in serious danger of turning into a computer nerd!” Kenny said, giving her a shove.

“What, instead of a football nerd like you, you mean?” Frankie retorted, swiping her round the head with a rolled-up copy of Popstar .

“OK, what else?” I asked, looking at my list. But before anyone could say anything, my mum yelled up the stairs that tea was ready.

“Liam, Jack and Dan usually stay for tea when they come round to practise,” I told the others, as we clattered down the stairs. “So we can find out loads of stuff for the website.”

“And remember, we don’t want them to guess what’s going on,” Kenny instructed us. “So play it dead cool. Right— Aaargh! ”

Kenny had jumped down the last few stairs into the hall, and landed on the rug, which skidded on the polished wooden floor. Kenny skidded along with it, and ended up in a tangled heap in the kitchen doorway. The rest of us nearly died laughing.

“Great entrance, Kenny!” Tom called. He and his mates were already sitting at the kitchen table, scoffing Mum’s spaghetti.

“Yeah, that was dead cool, Kenny!” Frankie whispered, hauling her to her feet.

We all crammed in round the kitchen table. It was lucky my oldest brother Stuart was out with his girlfriend, and Dad was still at work, or we’d never have fitted. I noticed that Fliss nearly knocked Frankie and Rosie over so that she could grab the seat next to Liam – she really had it bad!

“I like your shirt, Liam,” Fliss said brightly, as Mum started heaping spaghetti on to our plates. “Is blue your favourite colour?”

Liam looked a bit surprised.

“Well, yeah, I guess so,” he said.

Fliss immediately started pulling faces at me, and raising her eyebrows.

“OK, OK,” I muttered, quickly writing Liam – blue on my notepad. I’d brought it down with me, and had it hidden on my lap.

“What’re you doing, Lyndz?” Mum asked. Why do parents always seem to have eyes in the backs of their heads?

“Nothing,” I said, hiding the notepad under a corner of the tablecloth.

Kenny turned to Tom. “What’s your favourite colour then?” she asked.

“Er – purple,” Tom replied, looking as if he thought Kenny had gone totally mad. OK, maybe they all thought we were a bit strange, but we carried on until we’d found out all their favourite colours!

Then Rosie started off again. “Mm, I love spaghetti,” she said. “It’s my favourite food!” She stared hard at Jack. “What’s your favourite food?”

By the time we’d scoffed Mum’s toffee apple pudding, we’d found out loads of stuff! I think Tom and the others couldn’t wait to get away from us and our endless questions though, because they legged it back into the garage as soon as they’d finished their pud.