The Secret Circle of Imaginary Friends by Mike Jeavons

Author:Mike Jeavons [Jeavons, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-11-12T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

During morning lessons Simon actually felt awake. In science he was able to conduct electricity through various metals and in woodwork he made a nice wooden rack to store his video games, all without even a yawn. He felt refreshed and it seemed as though others from the Secret Circle felt the same; by mid-morning break nobody had been sent to Mr Cricklewood’s office.

Jonathon and Jake even called Simon over to talk, and not once did any of them even hint at the Secret Circle or the imaginary friends. Simon knew that if he wanted them to stay in a good mood then he should just try to pretend that none of it ever happened.

David ran across from around the back of the assembly hall and for once Simon and the others didn’t have to awkwardly change their conversation.

‘Have any of you seen Abdul today?’

‘Not yet,’ said Jake.

‘Is he not in?’ asked Jonathon.

‘Don’t know,’ said David. ‘I suppose not.’

The bell then rang and they parted ways. Simon had double English before lunch. For the first hour they were looking at poetry, and it was then that Simon felt the first yawn of the day start to build.

Simon was sitting beside Jonathon at the back of the classroom and both were feeling the tiring effects of eighteenth-century poetry.

‘Hey!’ yelled a girl known as Kay from the desk in front. She spun around and glowered at Simon and Jonathon.

‘What is it, Miss Humphreys?’ said Mrs Ramsworth at the front of the classroom.

Kay turned back and grabbed the back of her head. Her ponytail flicked round and nearly hit Simon in the face.

‘One of those two just threw something at me,’ she moaned.

‘We did not!’ Jonathon yelped. He was far more awake now.

‘You did! I felt it!’ Kay bent over and she fumbled around on the floor before shooting her hand up in the air. ‘Here, see! They threw a pencil at me!’

‘Mr Turner, Mr Andrews,’ growled Mrs Ramsworth as she edged menacingly toward the back table. ‘Is this true?’

‘No way,’ said Simon. Jonathon shook his head frantically.

Mrs Ramsworth squinted at them over the top of her glasses and Simon felt a cold wave wash over his skin. It seemed that Mrs Ramsworth had somehow now developed psychic powers as a form of punishment.

‘Don’t do it again,’ she breathed before heading back to the front of the classroom to continue her analysis of an old poem.

Simon turned to Jonathon and kept his voice as low as it would go. ‘Was that you?’

Jonathon shook his head and his cheeks wobbled. ‘No, I thought it was you.’

‘Since when would I do something like that?’

Jonathon shrugged. ‘Maybe you fancy her or something.’

‘Don’t be daft!’

‘Ow!’ Kay’s head had jolted back and her scream drew looks from the entire room, especially Mrs Ramsworth.

‘What on earth is going on back there?’

Kay rubbed the back of her neck and struggled to fight back tears. ‘They pulled on my ponytail.’

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