Googol Boy and the peculiar incident of the Great Quiz Trophy by John Michael (classic books for 13 year olds txt) 📕

“What is it this time Savani?”

“You know very well why I’m here!”

At this point, a sizeable crowd had gathered around us, curious as to what the fuss was about. Towering above the other students, I noticed the resident school bullies, Lazy Lenny, Fergus the Fist and Marsden Post, observing the situation with perverse pleasure and itching to get involved in case there was some prospect of violence. They were leering at me like a bunch of troglodytes eyeing off some easy prey.

I definitely couldn’t afford to let Savani get the better hand here. If it was seen that a pipsqueak like Savani could push me around, then it would be open season on Howard Sootfell for the rest of the year. It was one thing getting the regular bullying treatment but it was on an entirely different scale when you had a bullseye target painted on your face. It didn’t take much to get singled out from the rest of the herd in this place. Take poor ol’ Tommy Kilkenny who ended up doing strength test exercises in Gym Class with Josie-Belle Klein. Of course, during such activities no boy wanted to pair up with a girl. For one thing, your street cred would go down the toilet straight away. The chant of “likes to play with girls” would mean the same thing as having leprosy.

There were, however, other obvious reasons why girls were to be avoided as much as possible: there was that whole ‘sugar and spice’ thing, they weren’t good at klonkers, and of course, as everybody knew, girls had cooties (although, oddly enough, with the cootie thing, the girls said exactly the same thing about the boys). As soon as Mr Perriman told us to find a partner, all the boys quickly scurried to team up with another boy, the girls did the same, but because there were an odd number of boys and girls, Tommy and Josie-Belle missed out. There they were, walking around aimlessly in circles like a couple of discombobulated zombies until it dawned on them that they would have to pair up with each other. They were reluctant to come together at first but Mr Perriman quickly put an end to their hesitancy, in his usual sensitive and caring manner. “You two, it’s game-time! Get your butts on those seats! Now!”

Not only did Tommy and Josie-Belle have to sit across from each other, but because this was an arm wrestle they obviously had to hold hands as well. All the students hooted and chortled and there were numerous silly comments to boot: “Look who’s on a hot date,” “Tommy and Josie sitting in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g!” “Going to the chapel and someone’s gonna get married!” Needless to say, they were both red-faced from embarrassment.

“Pay attention!” yelled Mr Perriman, whose patience was wearing thin. “Keep your eye on the prize! Need to get your game on!” He didn’t like any kind of folly getting in the way of a good Gym lesson − life was all about sports and nothing else mattered, not even awkward teenage stuff.

“Now, are we ready to rumble?” inquired Mr Perriman with a steely gaze. Everybody quickly locked arms, otherwise you would end up locking horns with Corporal Punishment and that would never end well.

“Ready? Set?”

He then turned to Tommy. “And boy... take it easy there on Josie.”

“Yes sir,” he replied timidly.

“Ready. Set. Go!” yelled Mr Perriman.

The thing was that Josie-Belle was such a teeny and slender little whip of a girl that we all called her ‘Tinker Bell.’

And then it happened. Josie-Belle slammed Tommy’s arm with a decisive

Mr Perriman was not amused and accused Tommy of “taking a dive” and then instructed him to take Gym class seriously. “Enough of that tomfoolery Tom!”

All the students stopped what they were doing and turned to Tommy and Josie.

“Okay... do it again. This time no hijinks!”

“Yes sir,” mumbled Tommy.

They got into position again, locked hands.

Tommy lost again.

“Dang Tommy! Seems like you ain’t fooling around after all,” responded the teacher as he scratched his oversized chin. “Looks like you’re gonna have to hit the weights son! You’re about as strong as a pound of chicken liver.”

I felt sorry for Tommy but I must admit that my life was quite sweet during those two months. With Lenny, Fergus and Marsden devoting all their attention to tormenting Tommy, they left the rest of us pretty much alone to live our lives as we pleased − free to roam around the entire school, free to use our lunch money to buy lunch, free to frolic in the playground. But, as it goes, all good things come to an end.

Unluckily for all of us (but I guess luckily for Tommy), his family moved away to the country and things went back to how they used to be − unfree to roam around the entire school, unfree to use our lunch money to buy lunch, unfree to frolic in the playground. However, as I glanced across the crowd of students and saw the sneering faces of the three bullies, I realised that things could even be worse than being ‘unfree.’ As I was getting ready to go into combat with Savani, it suddenly dawned on me that I could become the new Tommy Kilkenny and there was one thing that I knew for sure, I did not want to be poor ol’ Tommy!

Now when it came to ‘street cred’ I was well aware of my situation − I knew that I was scraping the bottom of the barrel but I also knew that this was my moment to shine and try to elevate my status. Say what you want about ‘street cred’ but it was worth having. Everyone knew that street cred got you total respect, it put a swagger in your walk, and it has even been said that it puts hair on