Harriet Castor - Hit the Beach!

Harriet Castor

Cover

Title Page Harriet Castor

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Top Sleepover TIPS

Have You Been Invited to all these Sleepovers?

The Sleepover Kit List

Acknowledgement

Copyright

About the Publisher

Hey, wave warrior! How’s it going, dude? Why don’t you cruise on over here and hang out with your old buddy Kenny, huh?

No, it’s OK, I haven’t got sunstroke. It’s just my beach speak – I’ve been practising it ever since we got back from our awesome trip. What’s that? You haven’t heard about it yet? I can’t believe one of the others hasn’t filled you in – it’s all we’ve been yakking about for ages.

But that’s brilliant, cos now I get to tell you! We’ve been having the coolest summer – you’re going to be so wowed when you hear about it, I swear. Quick, let’s sit over here in the shade so we don’t fry. If I get any more sun, I’ll be peeling for weeks.

OK, so you remember us all, right? The five super-cool members of the Sleepover Club? First there’s me, Kenny. On my birth certificate it says my name’s Laura McKenzie, but no one calls me that unless they’re narked with me – or they’re a teacher. (And the teachers are usually narked with me anyway.)

Next there’s Frankie – look, she’s over there, flinging a frisbee at Lyndz. Frankie and I have known each other for ever , and she’s a complete laugh. I think you can blame most of the craziest Sleepover Club ideas on her – life just ain’t quiet with Frankie around!

As for Lyndz, she’s as mad on ponies as I am on Leicester City Football Club (and that is seriously mad). In fact, it’s a wonder she’s with us right now – usually every spare minute she’s got she’s off to the stables to shovel horse poo, or whatever it is they make you do down there. (Yeuch!)

Then there’s Fliss – Felicity Sidebotham if you’re being formal. Yep, that’s her, lounging on a towel in her new hot-pink bikini. Summer just has to be her favourite time of year, judging by the number of new outfits she always seems to get. I don’t know how she makes it out of the house in the morning. With that many to choose from I’d be dithering till bedtime.

And last – but so not least – there’s Rosie. Fliss is trying to compare tans with her, but she doesn’t look that interested, does she? You might think Rosie’s the quietest of the gang. Don’t bet on it though, cos sometimes she surprises you. Talk about hidden talents! You won’t believe it when I tell you what she’s been up to.

But I’ve got to start at the beginning, haven’t I? Kenny, get your brain in gear, girl! OK, so here goes.

I know it sounds weird, but the coolest, most glamorous Sleepover adventure yet actually started at Cuddington Primary. Yep, our familiar old school. And it started with those familiar old slime bags, the M&Ms (that’s Emily ‘the Goblin’ Berryman and Emma ‘the Queen’ Hughes). I’m sure you haven’t forgotten about them – they’re the most stuck-up, snotty girls in our class, and they’ve been the number one enemies of the Sleepover Club since… well, forever.

It was a Tuesday morning and we were doing Art. Our teacher Mrs Weaver had brought in a packet of balloons, and we were making papier-mâché animals. Sounds weird? I know – but actually it was quite cool. You had to blow up your balloon and then stick your papier-mâché all over it, adding extra bits for legs and ears and whatever.

Frankie and I were doing quite well – even though we’d spent half the lesson flicking bits of gluey paper at each other.

“Mine’s not an animal, it’s a space rocket,” said Frankie, dragging a lump of gunge out of her hair. She had another bit stuck to her forehead, but I wasn’t going to let on. It looked hilarious. She peered at my paper-covered balloon. “What’s yours?”

“A squashed football?” suggested Fliss.

“Mr Potato Head?” said Rosie.

“Wrong and wrong again,” I said. I’d just cut up an egg box and I picked up one of the bits. “Look, this one’s the snout,” I said. “And these are the little stubby legs. And this one I’ll cut in half for the ears. Oink, oink! Any guesses?”

Frankie grinned. “It’s Emma Hughes!”

Ha, ha! That made us all fall about.

“I heard my name. Are you talking about me?” said a snooty voice behind us. I spun round and there were the M&Ms – trust them to be listening in! Honestly, it just shows how pathetic they are that they don’t have anything else to do but annoy us.

“Yeuch, no,” I said, turning back. “That’d be the most boring conversation in the universe.”

Then Emily Berryman sniggered. “Did you know you’ve got paper stuck to your forehead, Frankie?” she said. “You look so stupid.”

“Yeah, right ,” said Frankie, thinking the Goblin was playing a trick on her. This sent the M&Ms into fits of snorting giggles. Then Frankie put her hand to her forehead and turned bright pink.

Instantly, I was seized with guilt – and the M&Ms’ smug faces made my blood boil. “Push off!” I yelled. “Or I’ll sit on your stupid balloons and squash them flat!”

The Goblin yelled right back: “You could squash an elephant with your big bum!” (See what I mean – brainless or what?)

All the shouting got Mrs Weaver’s attention. “What’s going on there?” she barked. “Emma and Emily! Get back to your table this instant.”

The M&Ms muttered something and shot me a withering look as they stomped back to their places. They’re such teacher’s pets; they can’t stand getting told off for anything. I should’ve figured they’d start plotting revenge straight away, but I really got into the sticking and gluing after that, so I forgot all about them.

My pig was looking excellent. “When it’s dry,” I said, holding it up to show the others, “I’m going to paint it blue and yellow.” (Leicester City’s colours, of course!) “Then I’m going to cut a slot in the top so it’s a money box and use it to save up for match tickets and footie mags and stuff. How brilliant is that?”

Nobody got a chance to tell me what a genius I was, though, because right then Mrs Weaver said, “Ten minutes to the bell, everyone. Start clearing up.”

Rosie and Lyndz leapt over to the sink to wash up our paint brushes and glue pots. Frankie, Fliss and I picked up all the stray bits of sticky paper. Then we carefully lined up our balloons alongside everyone else’s on the shelf above the sink.

Outside at break there was a massive grey cloud hanging over the playground. Soon spits and spots of rain started falling.

“It’s supposed to be summer!” said Fliss, scowling up at the sky. “How will I ever get a tan when it’s like this?”

“Brrr! I’m going to get my cardie,” said Rosie, and she dashed back towards the classroom.

“I think we should go on a summer holiday,” said Lyndz. “Sleepover summer camp – wouldn’t it be ace? Somewhere hot…”

“We could have midnight feasts under the stars every night,” said Frankie.

“Dream on, guys,” I said. “Whose parents are going to take all five of us on holiday?”

Just then Rosie came charging towards us, panting and flapping her hands. “Kenny!” she gasped. “Your pig! It’s floating in the sink. It’s gone all mushy!”