Shrunk! Read Online Free Page B

difference, it’s still boiling.
    Mr Bell wants us all to get on with cutting out pumpkin lanterns. He wants us to work as a team. Apparently:
    Together
    Everyone
    Achieves
    More.
    I don’t quite know how more people waiting to use the same knife on a pile of pumpkins can achieve more, but Mr Bell seems very excited about it.
    He hands them out to everybody, but it turns out he’s only bought twenty-nine pumpkins, not thirty. He’s forgotten about me, so I can’t work as a team, I can’t achieve more. Good, I don’t think I could concentrate on cutting one out.
    â€˜Mr Bell, sir, can I go on the computer?’ I ask.
    He says yes, because he’s having a moment with Eric. Eric’s face would be white if it wasn’t covered in snot.
    My back’s to the wall, so no one can see what I’m doing. I get the internet up on the screen and type ‘Jupiter’ into the search engine.
    â€˜But I really don’t feel well, Mr Bell.’ Today, Eric’s face is so white that it’s practically blue. ‘The pumpkins are making me feel sicker.’
    â€˜Sit down by the window, and see how you feel in a bit.’ I can tell that Mr Bell doesn’t like Eric. He peers at Eric as if Eric’s an alien life form.
    Eric sits next to Jacob Devlin, his head hanging between his knees.
    â€˜Go away, Snot Face Four Eyes,’ says Jacob.
    Eric doesn’t move.
    I type, ‘What would happen if Jupiter didn’t exist?’ I get a load of answers that I don’t understand. I’m just typing, ‘What would happen if Jupiter disappeared?’ when Eric leaps to his feet and vomits all over Jacob.
    I don’t get to look up any more on the computer – Jacob Devlin gets to use it, because he’s the headmaster’s son and he was the one that Eric vomited on. Jacob also gets to wear a pink glittery tracksuit and some pink sparkly shoes from the lost property box. The tracksuit bottoms are tight around the wrist, the collar and the waist, so Jacob looks like a giant string of glittering sausages. He tries to hide in the corner of the room, but it’s like trying to hide a zeppelin in a cornflake box. I wish I had a camera.
    I get to sharpen pencils and worry instead. The classroom smells like a cheese factory and the teaching assistant spends the whole time scrubbing the carpet with disinfectant. It’s really hard not to vomit in sympathy. I keep swallowing, like Eric did.
    I look over Jacob’s sparkling shoulder. He’s playing a racing game. One hundred and twenty-seven laps. He’s not going to get off the computer any time soon.
    When the bell goes, I hover inside, hoping to get another go in the empty classroom, but Mr Bell gives me a shove out of the door. ‘Off you go, Tom, have a bit of fresh air. Smells like a vomitorium in here.’
    Jacob Devlin’s out there, giant and pink, handing out sweets to his mates. Only Jacob Devlin could get away with being dressed like a girl without anyone mentioning it. His mum, also giant and pink, thrusts a paper bag with more sweets over the school wall. I’ve got an apple from Grandma. Not just an apple, an enormous cooking-type apple – it might taste good, but I’m not eating it in public.
    I lurk in the corner of the playground, turning my back on everyone else. I click the capsule open.
    Nothing. No movement, no light, just a dull little round thing.
    â€˜Hey! Model Village, what you got there, then?’ It’s Jacob Devlin. He’s right next to me, I can smell the toffees on his fat breath. I click the lid down and stuff the capsule back in my pocket, but I’m not quick enough.
    Jacob’s hand reaches up and knocks it out of my palm and the capsule bounces across the gravel.
    â€˜Here, me,’ shouts one of his henchmen – and the capsule flies through the air, from one to the other, and I’m doing that stupid hopeless thing of running