Spurt (7 page)

‘I don’t know,’ Philo whispered back. ‘What’s a merkin?’

Jack took Philo aside and shook the wiry thatch at him. ‘It’s this!’ he hissed, keeping his voice low so no-one else would hear. ‘It’s what
this
is.
This
is a merkin. This
pube wig
is a merkin!’

In Year 7, Jack had mistyped the word ‘Merlin’ in an English essay and became curious when the spellchecker didn’t pick it up. One image search later, and a whole new world of pubic fashion had been laid bare – or not – before him.

‘Oh,’ said Philo, looking annoyed. ‘I didn’t realise that was already a thing.’

‘You mean … you came up with the idea of a merkin
by yourself
?’

‘Yeah, I guess so. Wow, now I feel stupid. I could’ve just bought one on the internet or something. Anyway, it’s just so you don’t have to feel so out of place in the changing room.’

‘No, this wouldn’t make me look out of place
at all
,’ Jack said, rolling his eyes. Then he stopped. ‘Wait, if you didn’t
buy
this …’

‘I made it.’

‘You
made
it?’

‘With Mother’s sewing kit. It took me all night.’

Jack turned the material over in his hands. Gross and creepy though it was, he had to admit Philo had put a lot of effort into it. ‘You know, it’s actually pretty solid work … What did you use for the – ?’ Then his eyes widened. ‘Wait … Oh my god, it’s not
your
hair, is it?’

Philo went suddenly shifty-eyed. ‘What?’

Jack held the homemade merkin as far away as possible without attracting attention from the rest of 8C. ‘Have you just given me a handful of
your own pubes
?’ he hissed.

‘Would that be bad?’

‘Yes, that would be bad!’

‘Even if they’d been shampooed first?’

Jack’s eyes widened even further. ‘So they
are
your pubes!’

Philo paused. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Whose are they, then?’

‘Whose are what?’

‘Whose
pubes
are they? What else would I be talking about when I’m
holding a bunch of pubes
? What were you expecting me to
do
with this thing, anyway?’ Jack whispered. ‘
Wear
it?’

‘Just until …’ Philo lowered his hands and made wafting motions upwards in an apparent attempt to mime the growth of pubic hair.

‘I don’t believe this!’

‘You’d be more like Oliver Sampson,’ said Philo.

‘Why? Does he have someone else’s pubes stuffed down his jocks as well?’

‘Sampson? I don’t know. You could ask him!’

‘Ask me what?’

Jack turned to see Sampson standing behind him. And standing next to Sampson was homeroom no-show and recent non-replier-to-texts, Vivi Dink-Dawson.

‘Hey, cuz,’ she said to Philo. ‘Hey, Jack.’ She tried to see what Jack was holding. ‘Oh my god, what is that?’

‘Nothing,’ said Jack, stuffing the merkin into his pocket. ‘And Philo was just leaving. Weren’t you, Philo?’

‘I sure was!’ said Philo. ‘If I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late for school!’

Sampson frowned. ‘You’re … at school already?’

Philo blinked. ‘Okay, that was pretty stupid, even for me. I guess I shouldn’t have stayed up so late making Jack that merk–’

‘Merkel!’ blurted Jack. ‘That … sculpture of Angela Merkel. You know. The German prime minister or whatever. Oh man, she’s definitely my favourite world leader who’s a lady.’

Philo now looked even more confused than normal. Jack gave him a little shove to send him on his way, then turned back to Vivi.

Sampson was still hovering next to her. It was almost as though Vivi had temporarily forgotten what a massive brainless jerk he was.

‘I thought you must have been sick or something,’ said Jack, doing his best to ignore Sampson. ‘I mean, that Mayor for a Week thing is on today, right? I didn’t think you’d want to miss that.’

‘I think you’ll find Angela Merkel is the German
chancellor
,’ said Sampson, ‘not prime minister.’

‘Oh,’ said Jack. ‘Really?’

Really?
he thought.
Sampson knows a three-syllable word?

‘That’s why we’re late,’ said Vivi. ‘We bumped into each other at the bus stop and just got fully into this conversation about whether I should apply or not. Oliver’s coming to the information session too.’

‘We got talking yesterday after PE,’ Sampson explained. He glanced down at Vivi. ‘You know, comparing notes on the soccer match. One captain to another!’

‘A meeting of equals!’ joked Vivi.

Jack looked from Vivi to Sampson and back again. What the hell was going on? ‘I … thought we’d already agreed you should definitely go for it?’ he said.

Vivi frowned. ‘I don’t think we had. Anyway, I figured it couldn’t hurt to get another opinion. Mix things up a little.’

Jack couldn’t help thinking things seemed plenty mixed up already.

‘Oliver’s going to meet me outside the student centre, before the information session.’ Vivi caught Jack’s eye. ‘I thought you’d probably want to tag along too?’

‘Yeah,’ said Jack. ‘Sure.’ What could he do: say no? Risk getting Vivi offside? It wasn’t an option. Not with Sampson looking very much
on
-side. ‘Tag along. That sounds like my kind of thing …’

Vivi brightened. ‘Awesome! I already have some ideas about what I’d like to do as Mayor for a Week –’

(This came as no surprise to Jack.)

‘– but I was thinking you guys could help me out, maybe workshop some stuff, kick some other ideas around?’

‘Totally,’ said Jack. ‘I’m actually pretty good with that sort of thing.’ He glanced up at Sampson, suddenly feeling as though he was on surer ground. ‘You know, from being on
Bigwigs
. When you think about it, it’s pretty similar. Kids doing adult jobs. And
Bigwigs
was a competition, Mayor for a Week’s a competition … So, yeah – I’m
totally
qualified to help.’

‘
Bigwigs
,’ Sampson snorted. ‘Like anyone watches that show anymore. Just because it’s moved to Network Twelve and it’s running in prime time and has brand-new corporate sponsors and bigger prizes and …’ He stopped, seeming to notice the way Vivi and Jack were looking at him. ‘I mean, I don’t really keep up with it. That’s just what I heard. All I’m saying is, it’s still a stupid kids show.’

The bell rang for first period.

‘So we’ll see you later, yeah?’ said Vivi, looking at Sampson.

‘Totes,’ said Sampson. He flashed a dark look at Jack, which went unnoticed by Vivi, then walked off down the corridor.

‘What are you doing getting
him
involved in this?’ hissed Jack.

‘In what?’ said Vivi.

‘In this! In …
us
.’

‘I … don’t think there
is
an “us”, Jack.’

‘Not
us
us. I mean all of us. Me and you and Reese and Darylyn.’ Again, Jack wondered if Vivi knew about Reese and Darylyn’s secret pairing. If she did, she didn’t show it.

‘Look, Jack,’ said Vivi, ‘things aren’t always going to stay the same …’

(Jack wanted to mention that he had three terms’ worth of looking down his pyjama bottoms that suggested otherwise.)

‘… and anyway, Oliver actually seems like an okay guy when you get to know him. Plus the only reason we got talking yesterday after PE was because you disappeared on me.’

Disappeared
, thought Jack. That’s exactly what he felt was happening. He wondered how long it would be before nobody saw him at all.

The tables in the student centre had been cleared to one side. Jack counted about twenty Year 7s and 8s sitting in two half-circle rows of chairs facing the guest speaker from Upland City Council. Jack deliberately sat in the row behind Vivi and Sampson, so he could eavesdrop on them without drawing attention to himself.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear. Some accidental confession? Some careless hint confirming his suspicion that they’d become an oddly matched romantic couple overnight? (
King Kong and the lady from
King Kong, thought Jack.)

All that actually happened was that for the whole first ten minutes of the session, Jack kept having to lean from side to side to see past Sampson’s ox-like shoulders.

The other kids in the room were junior school’s best and brightest: the high achievers, the popular kids, the all-rounders, the online petition-makers and rally-marchers. For a moment Jack was reminded of the cast meetings for
Bigwigs
, when the contestants would all be crammed into a dingy production office and briefed on their workplace challenge for the week. An office like the one where Jack had been told the real reason he wouldn’t be making it any further in the finals.

‘We’re looking for someone with the maturity to represent their school in the community,’ the woman from the mayor’s office was saying, ‘but also someone who can learn from having the town’s top job for a week. If you think that person is you, I’d encourage you to find someone to nominate you and choose one of the essay topics listed on the application form. And I think that’s all I need to tell you, except to say: good luck!’

Jack and Vivi’s home room teacher, Mr Jacobs, led the assembled students in applause.

Vivi turn to Sampson. ‘Essay topics?’ Jack heard her say. She looked confused, as though she couldn’t work out whether to be annoyed or not. ‘They must have changed the rules. I guess it’s not just a popularity contest after all.’

Meanwhile, the junior school deputy head Ms Liaw had stepped off into one of the offices adjoining the student centre to fetch the next speaker. It hadn’t even occurred to Jack who it would be, but suddenly there she was: Natsumi ‘Nats’ Distagio.

There were murmurings of disapproval from some of the Year 7s and 8s. Jack half expected Vivi to turn around and make another joke about him marrying into the Distagio family. He almost wished she would. Any attention would be better than no attention at all.

Nats glanced quickly down at the index cards in her hand, cleared her throat, then straightened her back and lifted her chin. ‘Imagine being able to walk a week in someone else’s shoes. To see the big picture.’ She gazed earnestly at the assembled Year 7s and 8s. ‘Imagine being given the opportunity to bring people together. To make a difference. That’s what it felt like the week I was Mayor for a Week for a week. It’s an experience I’ll always remember – even in five years’ time when I’ve got my dream job as a prime-time TV presenter.’

More murmurings.

Nats moved to the next card, and glanced up again. ‘I can see many familiar faces here today –’

Jack felt a hot prickling sensation creep up his neck. It suddenly occurred to him: maybe Nats had watched
Bigwigs
. Maybe she recognised him from TV. Maybe she knew who he was.

‘– and I’m sure every one of you would be a great ambassador for the school. Of course, it’s not just what’s underneath that counts. The Mayor for a Week is the public face of Upland. For a week. That face is somewhere in this room. That face could be your face. For a week.’

Nats was moving on to her next card when Jack’s phone buzzed and beeped in his pocket.

Crap
, he thought. He’d stupidly forgotten to switch it back to silent from before, when he’d been waiting for Vivi to text him back.

Worse, it wasn’t just a message. Someone was trying to call him.

He plunged his hand into his pocket to silence the phone – and frowned. He didn’t remember packing a hankie in his pocket. And also, why was it covered in hairs?

His eyes widened. Philo’s little homework project. Jack had jammed it into his pocket to hide it from Vivi and Sampson. It had been there ever since. A ticking time bomb of Philo Dawson’s pubes.

And he’d just put his hand right onto it.

Ms Liaw’s gaze swept around the student centre. ‘Whose phone is that?’

People started shifting in their chairs and craning their necks.

‘Turn it off
now
unless you want it confiscated.’

Jack’s phone was ringing properly now. Loudly. He reached further into his pocket, doing his best to avoid any contact with the merkin.

‘Come on,’ said Mr Jacobs. ‘Natsumi has taken time out from her classes to speak to you all. Show some respect.’