âLavinia â I mean, Mrs Trundle! What can I do foryou?â He hurried over to join her and they were soon deep in conversation.
âPhew!â Davey stretched out his legs in front of him.
Davey still had sore muscles from a weekend of cricket. His foot kicked his backpack, which was on the floor in front of him. Davey knew that sticking out of his bag was his cricket bat, Kaboom. It was his lucky bat and had been signed by two of his heroes, Ricky Ponting and Shane Warne. The signatures were important to Davey â if he was in a tight spot on the field, he would think of his heroes and it would help him find his focus.
Daveyâs hands itched to touch the willow. He glanced at Mudge. Davey could have sworn he saw him blush, although it was hard to tell, because the teacherâs ears had changed back from shocking pink to just pink.
Mudge was still laughing and talking to Mrs Trundle. Davey could hear snatches of conversation about, yawn, lawn bowls and, double yawn, class grading.
Davey pulled out his bat and held it in his hands.
âHi, Kaboom,â Davey said quietly.
Kaboom was made from beautifully balanced English willow. Davey had put on his own grip and he oiled the bat carefully at the start of the season, giving the face and edges extra care and attention. It was well worn in now, especially since it had so many dents and cherries from hitting sixes out of the park.
The call to play was bigger than Davey, and he just couldnât help himself. He slipped out of his seat and adopted a stance at the crease,demonstrating one of his favourite shots, the square cut.
He looked around at his friends Sunil, George and Kevin, who were each sitting in different corners of the room, specifically so they couldnât talk about cricket all day. âThis is how Ricky would deal with a short ball outside the off stump,â Davey whispered rather loudly.
Sunil scrunched up a piece of paper into a tight ball and pitched it across the room to Davey.
Every other student in 6M watched in silent awe as the paper ball flew high into the air. It seemed to move in slow motion as it bounced off the top of Mudgeâs balding head and landed on the floor beside him.
Davey sucked in a breath. Uh-oh!
âNow youâve done it,â said Bella Ferosi, the school captain who sat next to Davey. Her brown ponytail flicked back and forth as she looked from Mudge to the soon-to-be-shark-bait Warner.
âWarrr-nerrr!â If Mudge had been blushing before, he now looked set to blow a fuse. His ears had gone purple, and crimson red blotches had appeared all over his face.
âYouâre dead meat, Shorty.â Mo Clouter sat on Daveyâs other side and was perhaps Daveyâs least-favourite person.
Mrs Trundleâs eye twitched. Davey knew that meant she was about to lose it. Clearly unimpressed, she quickly took her leave, but not before throwing Mudge a look that could have killed a cat.
Mudge turned on Davey. âWhen I get my hands on you, Warr-nerrr . . .â he spluttered and tiny sparks shot out of his ears.
Davey held Kaboom out in front of him in mock defence.
âGive it here.â Mudge reached a hand out for the bat.
âAh, this is my lucky charm, Sir,â Davey said. âI canât play cricket without it.â
âGIVE IT TO ME!â Mudge spat out the words with such force that little bobbles of spit flew from his mouth and landed on Daveyâs shirt.
âPlease, Sir! Iâll do detention, anything . . .â Davey pleaded.
âThe bat!â Mudge grabbed hold of Kaboom and pulled.
But Davey couldnât let go. It wasnât that he was a show-off, but Kaboom was his most prized possession. Together, Davey and his bat had plans. Theyâd made a pact to not only win the season but to show the selectors the art of batting and that they had a place on the rep side.
Mr Mudge didnât see it quite the same way.
âPhew!â Davey stretched out his legs in front of him.
Davey still had sore muscles from a weekend of cricket. His foot kicked his backpack, which was on the floor in front of him. Davey knew that sticking out of his bag was his cricket bat, Kaboom. It was his lucky bat and had been signed by two of his heroes, Ricky Ponting and Shane Warne. The signatures were important to Davey â if he was in a tight spot on the field, he would think of his heroes and it would help him find his focus.
Daveyâs hands itched to touch the willow. He glanced at Mudge. Davey could have sworn he saw him blush, although it was hard to tell, because the teacherâs ears had changed back from shocking pink to just pink.
Mudge was still laughing and talking to Mrs Trundle. Davey could hear snatches of conversation about, yawn, lawn bowls and, double yawn, class grading.
Davey pulled out his bat and held it in his hands.
âHi, Kaboom,â Davey said quietly.
Kaboom was made from beautifully balanced English willow. Davey had put on his own grip and he oiled the bat carefully at the start of the season, giving the face and edges extra care and attention. It was well worn in now, especially since it had so many dents and cherries from hitting sixes out of the park.
The call to play was bigger than Davey, and he just couldnât help himself. He slipped out of his seat and adopted a stance at the crease,demonstrating one of his favourite shots, the square cut.
He looked around at his friends Sunil, George and Kevin, who were each sitting in different corners of the room, specifically so they couldnât talk about cricket all day. âThis is how Ricky would deal with a short ball outside the off stump,â Davey whispered rather loudly.
Sunil scrunched up a piece of paper into a tight ball and pitched it across the room to Davey.
Every other student in 6M watched in silent awe as the paper ball flew high into the air. It seemed to move in slow motion as it bounced off the top of Mudgeâs balding head and landed on the floor beside him.
Davey sucked in a breath. Uh-oh!
âNow youâve done it,â said Bella Ferosi, the school captain who sat next to Davey. Her brown ponytail flicked back and forth as she looked from Mudge to the soon-to-be-shark-bait Warner.
âWarrr-nerrr!â If Mudge had been blushing before, he now looked set to blow a fuse. His ears had gone purple, and crimson red blotches had appeared all over his face.
âYouâre dead meat, Shorty.â Mo Clouter sat on Daveyâs other side and was perhaps Daveyâs least-favourite person.
Mrs Trundleâs eye twitched. Davey knew that meant she was about to lose it. Clearly unimpressed, she quickly took her leave, but not before throwing Mudge a look that could have killed a cat.
Mudge turned on Davey. âWhen I get my hands on you, Warr-nerrr . . .â he spluttered and tiny sparks shot out of his ears.
Davey held Kaboom out in front of him in mock defence.
âGive it here.â Mudge reached a hand out for the bat.
âAh, this is my lucky charm, Sir,â Davey said. âI canât play cricket without it.â
âGIVE IT TO ME!â Mudge spat out the words with such force that little bobbles of spit flew from his mouth and landed on Daveyâs shirt.
âPlease, Sir! Iâll do detention, anything . . .â Davey pleaded.
âThe bat!â Mudge grabbed hold of Kaboom and pulled.
But Davey couldnât let go. It wasnât that he was a show-off, but Kaboom was his most prized possession. Together, Davey and his bat had plans. Theyâd made a pact to not only win the season but to show the selectors the art of batting and that they had a place on the rep side.
Mr Mudge didnât see it quite the same way.
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