We all stared at her with our mouths open.
“Are you saying our sleepovers are no fun any more?” Fliss gasped, outraged.
“Nah, ’course not!” Kenny reached for a paper towel. “Sleepovers are still cool! It’d just be even cooler if we did something different sometimes.”
“Like what?” I asked. “And don’t say we could play football.”
“Well, why not?” Kenny said, and the rest of us groaned loudly. “OK, but what about having a sleepover somewhere else? We only ever go to each other’s houses.”
“What’s wrong with coming to my house tonight?” Rosie began indignantly.
“Nothing, Rosie-posie!” Kenny interrupted, flicking some water at her. It was a great shot. It hit Rosie right in the eye, and she squealed. “But don’t you remember what a brilliant time we had when we slept over at the museum?”
We had to admit, she had a point.
“Well, what did you have in mind?” I asked. “A sleepover in Sainsbury’s, or what?”
“Ha ha, very funny, Francesca,” Kenny began, trying to annoy me by using my full name, but right at that moment Mrs Weaver yelled over the noise: “Everyone in their seats now, please! I’ve got something very important to tell you.”
We all scuttled back to our seats in silence. Kenny’s remark had kind of thrown everyone, including me. Did we always do the same things at our sleepovers? Well, maybe we did, but we still had a great time. At least, I thought we did… No, I knew we did. If Kenny found them boring, it was her problem.
Mrs Weaver was waiting impatiently, glaring at Ryan Scott and Danny McCloud who were still chucking bits of clay at each other.
“Right, I want to tell you about a rather exciting trip that the school has arranged for this year group,” she said, picking up a pile of papers from her desk. “And I have a letter for you to take home to your parents explaining all about it.”
Nobody looked very thrilled. Have you ever noticed that what teachers think is exciting and what we think is exciting are never the same thing?
“The trip will be to the Costa Brava in Spain for one week,” Mrs Weaver went on.
There was a moment’s breathless silence, and then the whole classroom erupted.
“A trip to Spain!” Fliss squealed. “That’ll be brilliant!”
“I’m going!” Kenny said in a determined voice. “I don’t care what I have to do to get my parents to say yes. I’ll even be nice to Molly the Monster, sister from Hell, if I have to!”
“I reckon my mum’ll let me go.” Lyndz beamed all over her face. “Are you up for it, Frankie?”
“Are you kidding?” I gasped. My mum and dad are really boring when it comes to holidays. All we ever do is go to Scotland, or visit my gran in Nottingham or my grandad in Wales. Really interesting and exotic – not! “I’ve never been abroad before, and I really want to go!”
Suddenly Kenny bounced out of her seat with excitement. “Hey, we’ll be able to have a sleepover in Spain! That’ll be even more cool than the sleepover at the museum!”
Well, that just about did it. We were almost wetting ourselves with excitement. Well, not quite all of us. Rosie wasn’t looking very thrilled. In fact, she’d turned a funny pea-green colour.
“What’s biting you, Rosie?” I asked.
“Kenny, will you sit down, please!” Mrs Weaver called. “And be quiet, everyone, so I can give you some more information about the trip before the home bell.”
We all stared hard at Rosie, but we didn’t get a chance to find out what the problem was because Mrs Weaver was giving us one of her looks.
“We’re lucky because we’ve managed to book places at a very special holiday complex,” she continued. “It has a swimming pool, all the usual activities, and it’s right on the Costa Brava coast near the beach. But what makes this place different is that it’s also an exchange centre where school children can come from all over Europe to meet each other…”
Mrs Weaver went droning on about how this was a great chance for us to make friends with kids from other European countries and learn all about each other’s cultures and languages etc, etc, but nobody was listening. We were all too busy grinning at each other and making thumbs-up signs. It sounded totally brilliant. Spain, sun, sea, sand and the Sleepover Club! It was an ace combination. So I just couldn’t understand why Rosie looked like someone was forcing her to spend a wet weekend in Birmingham with the M&Ms.
“Unfortunately, places are strictly limited, and only fifteen of you will be able to go.” Mrs Weaver added, handing round the letters as the bell rang. “So if you’re interested, you’d better bring your consent forms and the deposit to me first thing on Monday morning. Have a good weekend.”
“What about you, Rosie?” Fliss asked anxiously as we picked up our bags. “You are going to come, aren’t you?”
“’Course she is!” Kenny interrupted, flinging her arm round Rosie’s shoulders. “We can’t have a sleepover in Spain unless we’re all there, can we?”
Rosie looked even more miserable. “I don’t think I’ll be able to. There’s no way my mum can afford it.”
We glanced at each other in horror. It just wouldn’t be the same if we didn’t all go.
“Well, what about your dad?” Kenny suggested. “You’re always moaning about how he keeps going off on holiday with his girlfriend, even though he’s promised to take you. I bet he’d be willing to pay for it.”
“I don’t want to ask him,” Rosie muttered, and she turned and hurried out of the classroom before any of us could stop her.
“Well, that’s going to ruin everything,” I said angrily. Of course, the rest of us could still go, but we wouldn’t be able to have a proper sleepover without Rosie, would we?
“Maybe we can talk her into asking her dad at the sleepover tonight,” Lyndz suggested, and we all nodded. We had to do something, and fast, otherwise our dream of a sleepover in Spain would be over before it had even started.
“Mum!” I yelled as soon as I got home. “Can I go to Spain?”
My mum was working on the computer in her study, and she raised her eyebrows as I charged in, waving the letter.
“Did you say Spain, Frankie?”
“Yeah, there’s a school trip to the Costa Brava!” I gave her the letter, and hopped impatiently from one foot to the other while she read it. “So, can I go?”
“Well, it does look quite interesting,” my mum said thoughtfully. “It says here you’ll get the chance to meet other kids from all over Europe, and learn about each other’s cultures.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I muttered. Bor-ing! That wasn’t what I was interested in. “What d’you reckon then, Mum? Can I go?”
My mum looked at me over the top of her glasses. “I suppose so, if your dad agrees.”
“Yes!” I gave her a big hug. “Thanks, Mum!”
“What about the