Cool School by John Marsden Read Free Book Online

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hat football team do you go for?’ the little butter-menthol kid asks you.
    You look a bit embarrassed. ‘Um, Norths,’ you finally admit.
    The kid coughs and chokes a bit. ‘Norths? You actually support Norths? You mean there’s someone left on the face of the planet who follows Norths?’
    â€˜OK, OK,’ you say. ‘Don’t rub it in. Just because they haven’t won a match for eight years.’
    â€˜And you would really value a Norths premiership?’
    â€˜Yes,’ you say emphatically. ‘They’re so depressed about it. No one even turns up to their matches any more. Last time I went, there were so few people in the crowd that they announced the names of the spectators instead of the names of the players.’
    The kid spends a moment deep in thought. Then he looks at you long and hard. ‘All right,’ he says at last. ‘You won’t believe it now, but I do have a special gift when it comes to making things happen. Norths will win a premiership this year, but only if you keep watching them. While you’re watching they’ll score more than the opposition; while you’re not watching they won’t. Understand?’
    You nearly make a sarcastic comment, but there’s a burning look in this kid’s eyes that stops you. There really does seem to be something powerful about him. So instead, you thank him and watch him walk away.
    Saturday you decide you will go to watch Norths play. They’re up against last year’s premiers and no one, including you, gives them a chance.
    You’re about to leave for the match when the phone rings. It’s Alex Lee, a kid you met at your old school, wanting you to come to the movies.
    Of all the people in the world you’d like to go out with, Alex is number one. But what about Norths? You can’t desert them—there’s just this faint ridiculous idea that maybe the butter-menthol kid does have some strange power, and you can actually do something for them by watching their games. You try to talk Alex into coming to the football but without success. So off you go on your own.

ell,’ you say to this kid, ‘there is something I’d like a lot, and that is to do better at school. I’m not getting the good grades, that’s for sure. I keep telling my parents that F means ‘Fantastic’, but I don’t think they believe me.’
    The kid looks at you for a long time, shaking his head slowly. ‘Listen,’ he says, ‘I can do a lot of stuff, I can bend forks and make clocks stop, I can cure the common cold, I can make a Big Mac taste like food. But getting you better grades . . . I don’t know. That’s a tough call.’
    There’s nothing you can say to that. You just look at him until he shrugs his shoulders and walks away. But a week later he suddenly appears at your right elbow, with no warning. You can’t work out where he came from, but he hisses in your ear: ‘Come with me.’
    You follow him to a white door at the end of a corridor near the office. The staff are having their daily meeting, so there are no teachers around. He opens the door and in you both go. You find yourself in a computer room, with computers and screens and printers everywhere. The kid goes straight to one of the computers, sits down and turns it on. He starts hitting keys on the keyboard like he’s playing the piano. You stand behind him and watch.
    After a few moments to your amazement you see your own name on the screen. And then, right next to it, a whole string of grades start appearing. It’s all the marks from your old school, every mark from every subject, since you got D -for fingerpainting way back in kindergarten.
    And under that are all the subjects you’re doing this year, with spaces for your marks.
    As you stand there with your mouth open the kid puts his finger on the A key of the keyboard. He looks at you