Penguin Books Australia

Mr Scarsdale was looking over our heads. 'Well?' he said.

Ram glanced back and kicked my chair. 'This is it,' he hissed.

Pete was standing at the open classroom door, shuffling as if his legs wanted to run off somewhere, with his eyes looking around for a place to run to.

'I'm late,' Pete mumbled.

Ram nodded and pulled four chocolate bars from his pocket. The bet was on.

'Yes,' Mr Scarsdale said, with his odd smile. 'We all know that. You are late by fifty-seven minutes. What I want to know is why.'

Ram nodded again, as if he had a TV script written on the chocolate bars and Pete and Mr Scarsdale were just following their lines. And that wouldn't be far from the truth.

The entire class turned round and a couple of kids scraped their chairs away from their desks.

Pete's shoulders sagged and his homework books slipped a little in his hands.

Ram tapped the chocolate bars softly and wobbled his eyebrows at Pete.

Pete sighed heavily. 'You won't believe me . . .'

The thing was, Mr Scarsdale probably would. That was what the bet was about.