Dare Game (19 page)

‘Oh dear, have I spoilt your school jersey?’ said Football. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Alexander, old chum.’

Alexander chose to take him seriously. ‘That’s quite all right, Football,’ he said. He got up cautiously as if there was every chance he might be knocked down again. ‘What happened with your dad, Football?’

I held my breath.

‘You shut up, useless,’ said Football, but he simply bounced his ball on Alexander’s head.

‘Didn’t your dad take you to the match on Saturday?’ I asked.

Football suddenly sat back down himself,
his
back against the wall. He looked down at the bare floorboards. He didn’t even bounce his ball. ‘I waited. And waited. And waited,’ he mumbled. ‘But he never turned up.’

Football thought there was something wrong, like his dad was ill or in trouble, so he went round to his place, only there was no-one there. He sat on the steps outside his flat and waited for ages. Then when his dad eventually turned up he had his girlfriend with him, and he was slobbering all over her like she was an ice lolly. Football looked like he was going to be sick when he told us. And it got worse.

It turned out his dad had taken the girlfriend to the match instead of Football because she’d got this thing about the goalie’s
legs
. They both laughed like it was really cute and funny and had no idea what they were doing to Football. He made out he didn’t care. He said he was getting a bit sick of their football Saturdays anyway. And his dad got shirty then and said, Right, if that’s your attitude . . .

So Football pushed off and then when he
got
back home his mum saw he was upset but it just made her mad and she slagged off his dad all over again.

‘So I called her all these names and said it was no wonder Dad left home because she’s such a whining misery. Then she clumped me and cried and now she’s not talking to me. So they both hate me, my mum and my dad. So they’re rubbish, right? All mums and dads are rubbish.’

He stopped. We seemed to have stopped too. The house was very quiet. It was chilly with the window broken. I shivered.

‘It doesn’t necessarily follow that
all
mums and dads are rubbish,’ said Alexander.

There are some silences that shouldn’t be broken. Football bounced his ball at Alexander’s head again. Hard.

‘I don’t really like it when you do that, Football,’ Alexander said, blinking.

‘Good,’ said Football. He bounced his ball again. It was unfortunate for Alexander that Football has deadly accurate aim.

‘Tracy?’ Alexander said, a tear rolling down his cheek.

I felt like there were two Tracys.
One
wanted to put her arm round him and wipe his eyes and yell at Football to go and pick on someone his own size. And the other wanted to bounce a ball on his brainy little bonce too.

The Tracy twins argued it out. Guess which one won.

‘You’re such a wimp, Alexander. Why can’t you stick up for yourself? You daren’t do anything.’

Alexander drooped. ‘I
did
do that dare,’ he said. ‘Even though it meant the whole school called me names.’

‘What dare?’ said Football, still bouncing.

‘I’m Tracy Beaker, the Great Inventor of Extremely Outrageous Dares,’ I said proudly.

‘Like?’ said Football, catching the ball.

‘Like anything,’ I said.

‘So dare me,’ said Football, swaggering.

I let half a dozen ideas flicker in my head. None of them seemed quite suitable for Football. I squeezed my brain hard. I needed something suitably scary, rude and revolting.

Alexander seemed to think I needed help. ‘Tracy dared wave her knickers in the air!’ he announced.

‘Shut
up
, Alexander!’ I hissed.

Football grinned. ‘OK, Tracy, I dare you wave your knickers. Go on!’

‘Get lost,’ I said. ‘And anyway, you can’t copy my dare.’

‘All right. I’ll think of a better one.’ Football was grinning from ear to ear now. ‘I dare you take your knickers off and hang them on the fir tree like a Christmas decoration!’

I stared at him. It wasn’t fair. It was a
BRILLIANT
dare. Definitely Tracy Beaker standard. Oh how I wanted to zip his grin up!

‘You can’t ask Tracy to do that!’ said Alexander. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’

‘
I
climbed out into the tree,’ said Football.

‘Yes, but you’re bigger and stronger than Tracy,’ said Alexander. ‘And madder,’ he added softly.

‘There isn’t anyone madder than me,’ I said. ‘OK, I’ll do your stupid old dare, Football, easy-peasy.’

‘Tracy!’ said Alexander. He looked at me, he looked at Football. ‘Is this just a game?’

‘It’s
my
game, my Dare Game,’ I said. ‘Only it’s way too daring for you, Little Gherkin.’

‘Gherkin?’ said Football. ‘One of them
little
wizened pickled things?’

‘Alexander gets called Gherkin because everyone’s seen what he looks like in the showers!’

Football cracked up laughing. ‘Gherkin! That’s a good one!
Gherkin!
’

Alexander looked at me, his eyes huge in his pinched face. ‘Why are you being so mean to me today, Tracy?’

‘
You’re
mean to me, trying to stop me living happily ever after with my mum, when it’s what I’ve always wanted more than anything in the whole world,’ I said, and I marched to the window, kicking the broken glass out the way, and hitched myself up onto the window ledge.

‘Tracy! Don’t! What if you fall?’ Alexander shrieked.

I hooked one leg out.

‘Tracy! I wasn’t serious. You’re too little,’ Football shouted.

‘I’m not little! I’m Tracy the Great and I always win every single dare,’ I yelled, getting the other leg out and standing up straight. Straightish. My legs were a bit wobbly.

I looked down – and then wished I hadn’t.

‘Come back, Tracy!’ said Alexander.

But I couldn’t go back. I had to go forward. ‘This is the Dare Game, and I’m going to win it, just you wait and see.’

I looked at the tree – and jumped. One second I was in the air and there were screams – some mine – and then I had twigs up my nose and scratching my face and I was clinging there, in the tree, hands hanging onto branches, feet curled against the trunk.

I’d made it! I hadn’t fallen! I had managed a thrilling death-defying l-e-a-p! Football gave his Tarzan cry behind me and I joined in too, long and loud.

‘Now come back in, Tracy,’ Alexander pleaded.

‘I haven’t started yet!’ I said. ‘Shut your eyes. And you, Football.’

They both blinked at me like they’d forgotten the whole point of the dare.

‘I’ve got to take my knickers off now, so
no
peeping,’ I commanded.

They shut their eyes obediently. Well, one of them did.

‘Football! Think I’m daft? Stop squinting at me!’ I yelled.

Football’s eyes shut properly this time. I gingerly let go of the branch and started fidgeting under my skirt. It was a lot more scary only holding on with one hand. It would have been much more sensible to take my knickers off
before
I was in the tree, but it was too late now. I got them around my knees, and then reached down. The garden wavered way down below me and I felt sick.

‘Don’t, Tracy! You’ll fall!’ Football shouted.

‘Shut your ******* eyes!’ I was so peeved he was peering right up my short skirt I forgot to be frightened, eased my knickers over my foot and then straightened up in a flash.

‘They’re off!’ I yelled, waving them like a flag.

Football cheered. ‘Shove them on a branch for a second and then get back in,’ he shouted. ‘You’ve won the bet, Trace. Good for you.’

‘Yes, come back
now
, Tracy,’ said Alexander.

I didn’t want to come back right that instant.
I
was starting to get used to it in the tree. I looked up instead of down. It was a great feeling to be up so high. I reached for the next branch and the next and the next.

The boys yelled at me but I took no notice. I’d turned into Monkey Girl, leaping about the treetops without a worry in the world.

The tree swayed a little more as I got nearer the top, but I didn’t mind a bit. It felt soothing, not scary. If I was Monkey Girl I could swing in my tree all day long and at night I could fashion myself a leafy hammock and rock myself to sleep.