Pizza Cake Read online

  Little kids noticed things like that.

  It had been the same for Corey when he was small and the world had been dinosaur mad. For a few weeks when he was five, Corey had seriously suspected there were dinosaurs trapped in the ice under the frozen peas in Coles.

  Corey made Will sit next to him on the bed.

  ‘Vampires are just stories,’ he said to Will.

  His little brother shook his head. He jumped up onto Corey’s lap. Corey could smell something weird on Will’s breath.

  ‘Vampires live among us,’ muttered Will darkly. ‘Shelley told me.’

  Thanks Shelley, thought Corey. I hope I’m that thoughtful and considerate when I’m fifteen.

  ‘Why does your breath pong?’ he said as he lifted Will down.

  ‘It’s garlic butter,’ said Will. ‘I went downstairs and had some. To stop Jarrod Bennet biting me.’

  Corey looked at the clock.

  Ten past ten. Mum and Dad probably wouldn’t be back from book club till eleven.

  Corey needed sleep now. Desperately.

  But he knew there was only one way he was going to get it.

  ‘OK,’ he said to Will. ‘Come on. I’ll prove to you that vampires are just stories.’

  Shelley’s room was full of vampires.

  But, as Corey carefully pointed out to Will, none of them were real.

  Shelley had about a hundred vampire romance story books and DVDs on her shelves. Plus posters of hunky heart-throb teenage vampire guys, and plastic models of them, and a Twilight bedcover.

  ‘See,’ said Corey. ‘Vampires are just pretend.’

  ‘Mum’s got heaps of gardening books,’ said Will, ‘and gardening’s real.’

  Corey took a deep breath.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘even if there was such a thing as vampires, which there isn’t, Shelley wouldn’t go out with one. She can be a bit bossy at times, but she’s not stupid.’

  ‘She would so go out with one,’ said Will. ‘She told me. She likes vampire boyfriends. All her friends do.’

  Corey stared at the Twilight bedcover.

  It’s all that movie’s fault, he thought bitterly. I wish I had the phone numbers of the people who made up that movie and all those books. I’d make them come round and stay up half the night arguing with Will, so I could get some sleep.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Will, ‘Draclia makes you be his girlfriend. I saw it on a cartoon.’

  Corey opened his mouth to remind Will that (a) information from cartoons isn’t that reliable and (b) the word is Dracula.

  Before he could, Shelley burst into the room.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ she said, glaring at them.

  ‘Um,’ said Corey. ‘We couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘Out,’ said Shelley.

  ‘We’ve come to save you,’ said Will. ‘From Draclia.’

  Shelley rolled her eyes angrily and gave Corey a ‘grow up’ look. Which Corey felt was very unfair as he was grown up, almost. Will was the little kid with the dopey ideas.

  ‘I was just trying to explain something to Will,’ said Corey. ‘He’s got some dopey idea about Jarrod. Of course it’s completely –’

  Corey didn’t finish. Shelley grabbed the front of his pyjama top and twisted it so tight he could hardly breathe.

  ‘Stay away from Jarrod,’ she hissed, eyes blazing. ‘If you do anything to upset him, you’re dead meat, both of you.’

  Even though his brain was struggling for oxygen, and he was concerned about Will who looked close to tears, Corey was still able to work out almost instantly why Shelley was being so emotional.

  It was her height.

  Teenage boys didn’t like teenage girls who were taller than them, not as girlfriends. Shelley had said that tearfully to Mum a million times.

  But now, at last, she’d found one who didn’t mind. So of course she didn’t want him driven away by a loony five-year-old vampire hunter and a not-very-good-babysitter brother.

  Corey could understand that.

  The thing he couldn’t understand, now Shelley had pulled him even closer for a glare and he could see her skin in more detail, was why she had blood smeared on her neck.

  ‘Corey, wake up. Corey, wake up. Wake up, Corey.’

  Corey woke up.

  Will’s face was touching his. It was sticky. Corey could smell milk and cornflakes and truck plastic and just a hint of garlic.

  ‘Draclia’s in the kitchen,’ whispered Will urgently.

  Corey closed his eyes. The early morning sunlight was hurting his head. So was Will’s voice. For a moment he wondered if Will was a vampire. A sleep vampire who took all your sleep.

  ‘In our kitchen,’ said Will, even more urgently.

  ‘Go and keep him busy,’ mumbled Corey. ‘Show him your truck. Don’t let him leave. And don’t say anything about vampires. I’ll be down soon.’

  ‘OK,’ said Will, and hurried off.

  Corey was tempted to go back to sleep. But he didn’t. He had to fix this once and for all. Put Will’s mind at rest. So life could go back to normal.

  In the shower Corey made a list in his mind of all the things he knew about vampires.

  1. They hate sunlight.

  2. They hate having wooden stakes stuck in them.

  3. They hate garlic.

  4. Sometimes they can turn into bats.

  Right, thought Corey as he went down to the kitchen. I must be able to use at least one of these to prove to Will that Jarrod Bennet is not a vampire.

  Mum and Dad and Will were at the kitchen table.

  Nobody else was.

  ‘Where’s Shelley?’ asked Corey casually. ‘And, um, Jarrod?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Dad. ‘They were here a moment ago, then they just sort of vanished.’

  ‘Shelley wouldn’t let me show Draclia my truck,’ said Will bitterly.

  Corey sighed. Will was glaring at the chair Jarrod must have been sitting in. Which was empty now except for a cricket bat.

  A cricket bat?

  Corey stared at the bat, mind racing.

  Could vampires turn into that sort of bat?

  He shook the thought away and told himself to stop being silly. This wasn’t helping anyone.

  ‘I think they’ve gone to the mall,’ said Mum.

  ‘Strange one, that Jarrod,’ said Dad. ‘I asked him if he wanted to watch me play in the over-forties cricket, but he wasn’t interested.’

  ‘Yes he was, love,’ said Mum. ‘But he’s got very sensitive skin. He doesn’t like being in the sun.’

  Corey told his imagination to calm down. Lots of people had sensitive skin. Babies, for example.

  Could babies be vampires?

  Corey took a deep breath. This sort of wild thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere. Next he’d be wondering if goldfish could be vampires.

  What I have to do, thought Corey, is be more scientific.

  ‘Got any plans today, Corey?’ said Mum.

  ‘Um,’ said Corey. ‘I’m going to Brianna Bennet’s house to do a scientific experiment. I can take Will if you like. I think he’ll be interested.’

  ‘Yes,’ shrieked Will. ‘I love scientific speriments. I’m a vampire for scientific speriments.’

  ‘The Bennets live next to the cemetery, right?’ said Dad.

  Corey nodded.

  ‘Go the long way round the block,’ said Mum. ‘So you don’t have to cross any roads.’

  Corey nodded again.

  He was only half listening.

  Mostly he was wondering if Mum had any garlic butter left.

  ‘Why don’t we just ring the bell?’ said Will.

  Corey dragged Will back down into the bushes.

  ‘Because,’ whispered Corey, ‘we can’t just stand at the front door and say, hello Mrs Bennet, we’ve come to hide a lump of garlic butter in Jarrod’s bed to prove he’s not a vampire, and, by the way, could you let us know if he starts foaming at the mouth or writhing around on the floor or no
t being able to concentrate on his homework.’

  ‘Why can’t we?’ said Will.

  Corey took a deep breath.

  He decided to keep it simple.

  ‘Because,’ he said, ‘it’s more fun to climb in through Jarrod’s bedroom window.’

  ‘Yes,’ shrieked Will, or would have done if he hadn’t been muffled by the hand Corey slapped over his mouth.

  Luckily the Bennets’ house was single storey, and Jarrod’s room was easy to spot. Shelley had been telling everyone for days that Jarrod had black curtains.

  What Shelley hadn’t told anyone, Corey discovered, was that Jarrod also had a really sharp flyscreen that cut your finger when you pulled it off the window.

  ‘Ow,’ said Corey, sucking his finger.

  ‘Don’t let it bleed,’ said Will. ‘If Jarrod smells your blood he’ll go into a frenzy and want to marry you.’

  Corey didn’t think there was a huge chance of that happening.

  He concentrated on sliding Jarrod’s window open as quietly as he could, then helping Will climb through. It took a while because Will had his school backpack on, which got wedged in the window.

  Corey muttered some cross things very quietly and pushed as hard as he could. Suddenly Will and the backpack tumbled forward onto Jarrod’s bed. Corey climbed through after him.

  ‘Why did you bring your backpack?’ he whispered, helping Will off the bed. ‘You don’t need your truck for vampire hunting.’

  ‘It’s not my truck,’ said Will indignantly. ‘It’s a stake.’

  Corey stared at him.

  ‘A stake for vampire hunting,’ said Will. ‘If you jab a stake into a vampire, they –’

  ‘I know,’ said Corey hurriedly.

  He was shocked that Will even knew about this, let alone was planning to do it. And where had he got the stake anyway?

  Corey slid the backpack off Will’s back.

  Best if I look after it, he thought. That’s all we need now, a five-year-old running riot with a piece of sharp wood.

  Then Corey saw something and froze.

  Blood was dripping from the bottom of the backpack onto Jarrod’s floor.

  Corey stared, horrified.

  Had the stake already been used?

  Frantically he fumbled with the backpack zip, jerked it open and pulled out what was inside.

  A torn plastic bag with raw meat in it.

  ‘I told you,’ said Will. ‘It’s a steak. I got it from the fridge at home. If you jab a steak into a vampire it distracts them and –’

  ‘Not a steak,’ said Corey weakly. ‘A stake.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Will. ‘A steak.’

  ‘Jarrod, is that you?’ called a grown-up voice outside the door.

  Corey froze again. He gave Will a pleading look to make him stay still. He tried to stay completely still himself. Which wasn’t easy because he had blood trickling along his arm.

  The door opened.

  Mrs Bennet put her head in and stared, surprised.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ said Corey weakly.

  Mrs Bennet stared at him some more.

  ‘You’re Shelley’s brother, right?’ she said.

  Corey nodded. He could see she was looking at the dripping steak in his hand.

  He tried to work out how he was going to explain to Mrs Bennet (1) why he and Will were in her son’s bedroom doing a vampire hunt, and (2) why they were doing it in such a stupid way.

  ‘Oh, silly me,’ said Mrs Bennet, suddenly smiling. ‘Of course. Jarrod must have invited you over for a bite.’

  Will gave a terrified squeak.

  Corey swallowed nervously.

  ‘Your mum needn’t have bothered with this,’ said Mrs Bennet warmly, taking the meat from Corey. ‘My husband always gets too much steak for our barbecues. Come on through, lunch is nearly ready. Brianna and the others will be pleased to see you.’

  Dazed, Corey grabbed Will’s hand as Mrs Bennet steered them out to the back patio.

  ‘Look who’s here,’ said Mrs Bennet to the people sitting around the table.

  Everyone turned and stared at Corey and Will.

  Mr Bennet and Brianna looked surprised, but pleased as well.

  Jarrod just looked surprised.

  Shelley looked cross.

  ‘They even brought their own meat,’ said Mrs Bennet.

  Nobody else said anything. They were all looking a bit puzzled and lost for words.

  Corey decided he should say something.

  ‘And our own garlic butter,’ he said.

  At first it was quite a tense barbecue.

  Particularly for Will. Corey could see he was extremely tense, glancing nervously at Jarrod. Shelley looked very tense too, glancing nervously at Corey and Will.

  Corey decided to help everyone relax.

  ‘Vampires,’ he said. ‘You can’t get away from them these days, can you?’

  Everyone looked a bit startled at first.

  Corey had to hold Will’s hand tight under the table to keep him there.

  But soon everyone was talking about their favourite vampire movies and TV shows and books. Even Shelley started to relax.

  Corey chose his moment.

  ‘Sorry we broke into your room, Jarrod,’ he said.

  ‘My room?’ said Jarrod, looking surprised again.

  ‘Will wanted to get to know you better,’ said Corey. ‘Now you’re one of the family. Lucky your bed was there to break our fall. And lucky it’s a strong bed. With strong bedsprings. In your bed.’

  He hoped he’d said it enough for Will to get the message.

  ‘That bed needs to be strong,’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘The number of hours Jarrod sleeps.’

  Thank you, said Corey silently.

  ‘Twelve hours a night, if they let him,’ said Brianna.

  Thank you as well, said Corey silently again.

  ‘Easy to see Jarrod’s not a vampire,’ he said out loud.

  Everyone looked at Corey.

  Corey realised he hadn’t explained enough.

  ‘Vampires don’t need beds,’ he said. ‘They don’t sleep. Not ever. Not even on long trips in the back of cars.’

  Everyone laughed. Including Shelley. And when Corey glanced across at Will, he was grinning too.

  Corey felt light-headed with relief.

  Problem solved. Except for one little nagging thing. The blood he’d seen on Shelley’s neck. If Jarrod wasn’t a vampire, how did it get there?

  Corey wondered if Shelley had cooked dinner yesterday evening and maybe had tucked the meat under her chin so she’d have both hands free to chop onions.

  It was possible, except last night they’d had fish and chips.

  ‘OK, time to eat,’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘Jarrod, get rid of that revolting gum, please.’

  Jarrod stuck something on the edge of his plate.

  Red bubblegum.

  Corey stared at it.

  Of course. The red smears on Shelley’s neck. It wasn’t blood, it was bubble-gum juice.

  Corey felt happier than he had for ages. Happy that Shelley had managed to find a boyfriend at last. Happy that Jarrod’s family were so nice and friendly and mortal. Happy that with a bit of luck Will would stop carrying on like an insomniac Transylvanian innkeeper and let him get some sleep.

  Then Mr Bennet brought the steaks over from the barbecue.

  Corey stared.

  They were barely cooked. The outsides were sort of scorched, but the insides were still red.

  ‘We always have our steak rare,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘Hope you like it that way.’

  Mrs Bennet plonked a steak on Corey’s plate.

  ‘There you go,’ she said. ‘Folk who climb in through windows have to keep their strength up.’

  Corey felt faint.

  He hadn’t even cut his steak yet, and a puddle of blood was trickling out of it. What could he do? Everyone thought he and Will had come to lunch. You couldn’t come
to lunch and not eat the lunch.

  Corey cut off a small piece of steak. He tried not to look at the blood. He put the piece of steak into his mouth and hoped he wouldn’t throw up.

  He didn’t.

  The steak was delicious.

  He had another piece.

  This was incredible. It looked revolting but tasted fantastic. The mixture of crisp burnt outside and tender juicy inside was the best thing he’d ever tasted that wasn’t in the shape of a footy stadium.

  Corey had more.

  Then he remembered Will. He turned to his brother.

  Will was eating even faster than Corey. His eyes were shining as he chewed. He grinned at Corey, lips red and gleaming.

  Corey grinned back.

  He looked around the table. Everyone was eating as enthusiastically as Will.

  ‘Good, eh?’ said Mr Bennet.

  Everyone nodded, mouths full.

  Corey put another big tender dripping chunk of meat into his mouth and chewed happily.

  Then he had another little nagging thought and stopped.

  Was this how it all began? The taste for blood. Centuries ago. Before anyone had ever bitten anyone else in the neck. Was the first vampire just someone who’d been to a really good barbecue?

  Corey smiled to himself.

  Don’t be silly.

  But he hesitated.

  Then he reached over to the garlic butter and cut off a dollop and smeared it over the rest of his steak before he put the next big chunk into his mouth.

  Just in case.

  Tickled Onions

  I hate doing this, but every morning I have to. The other kids call it Clyde Craddock’s mental moment.

  As soon as I arrive at school, I hurry over to the garbage bins behind the canteen. First I check the bins for leftover bread from yesterday, because by 8.45 in the morning I’m always starving.

  There’s usually a slice or two. I wipe off the soggy lettuce or coffee powder or pencil sharpenings and gobble it down.

  Then, meal finished, I get busy with the other thing I have to do.

  I pull the plastic bag out of my pocket, careful not to spill what’s inside it. Cold porridge, maybe, with stewed apple and sun-dried tomatoes. Or a sour plum and choko yoghurt pancake. Or goat sausages with pig-liver marmalade. Or whatever else we had for breakfast at our place.