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Sam’s face.
    â€˜Gee, I don’t know about that . . . do you really think we should?’

our mother always keeps telling you that you should think before you act. Maybe she’s right. But this time you don’t think at all. You stuff the paper into your mouth and start chewing. Big mistake!
    Ms Janzen goes berserk. She tries to pull the note back out of your mouth, but it’s all covered with spit and stuff so she has to let it go. You chew and chew while Ms Janzen keeps yelling, but you don’t even hear what she’s saying. You’re too busy trying to digest this horrible lump of paper.
    Next thing you know you’re in the Principal’s office, with Ms Janzen holding your collar. Ms Janzen tells her side of the story, in a voice so loud that it rattles the windows. The Principal asks if you have anything to say. You try to speak, but your mouth is too clogged up with paper and spit, so you just shake your head. Then the Principal and Ms Janzen take it in turns to yell at you: it’s like stereo shouters. You wonder if they’re sisters.
    It seems to last for half an hour, but eventually there’s a silence and you realise they’ve finished. You stagger out into the corridor and lean against the wall with your eyes closed. With one big swallow you get rid of the last of the paper and open your eyes.
    And to your surprise Sam is standing there. You’re not sure what’ll happen but there’s a strange look in Sam’s eyes.
    â€˜Er, what is it?’ you ask.
    â€˜You’re a hero,’ Sam says.
    You close your eyes again as Sam’s lips come towards yours. At the first touch of those warm lips on yours you realise you’ve just discovered perfect happiness. Life is never going to get any better than this!

hat night your best friend chucks gravel at your window to wake you up. You’re awake anyway, after a terrible dream about being locked for days in the wrong toilet, while teachers and students crowd around outside waiting for you to come out. When you hear the gravel you tiptoe to the window and look through. It’s so late—about 11.30. What’s going on?
    â€˜Having trouble with your Maths homework?’ you whisper.
    â€˜No, idiot. Get some clothes on and come out here.’
    You must be an idiot, because you do it. ‘What do you want?’ you ask, when you finally get outside.
    â€˜I’m bored. Let’s go have an adventure.’
    â€˜An adventure? Now I know you’re crazy. We’ve got school tomorrow.’
    â€˜Oh come on, don’t be boring. Let’s go down the cemetery.’
    You’re too tired to argue so you go along without any more fuss, but yawning all the way.
    You get into the cemetery five minutes before midnight. It’s quiet in there, too quiet. You’re not tired any more, but you wish you were.
    â€˜Let’s go home,’ you whisper.
    â€˜Nah, what’s the matter? Are you a coward?’
    A church clock in the distance strikes midnight. As it finishes you see a ghostly figure appear through the wall of the graveyard. You grab your friend’s arm: you’re both shaking so much you’re scared your teeth will fall out. Then you recognise the figure in the distance.
    It’s Sam Jarre!
    â€˜It’s Sam Jarre!’
    â€˜I know, I know!’
    Sam goes to a stone crypt in a corner of the cemetery. It’s the oldest, coldest, loneliest part of the whole place. Sam seems to float over there, then disappear into the crypt. You know your hair’s standing up like it’s been gelled.
    â€˜I don’t want to be here. Let’s go play in the crocodile pond at the zoo,’ you say. ‘It’s safer there.’
    â€˜Don’t be such a wimp,’ your friend replies. ‘Let’s check it out.’

wenty years have passed. You’re now a dentist, living in the suburbs with your dog, three guinea pigs, seventeen