Don't Kiss Girls and Other Silly Stories by Pat Flynn Read Free Book Online

girl?’
    I nod.
    â€˜Hmm.’ Brains strokes his chin. ‘Girls ar e a good cause.’ Then his hand makes a fist. ‘But not today. Lucy Bagini dumped me this morning.’
    He starts to turn.
    â€˜But Brains!’
    Someone yells, ‘NO ONE IS TO RAISE THEIR VOICE IN THIS LIBRARY!’
    Except for the librarian, of course.
    I whisper, ‘What am I gonna do?’
    â€˜You know wh y she did it? She said I spen t more time with my books than with her. What’s wrong with that?’ Brains takes an encyclopaedia off the shelf; it’s as thic k as my head. ‘If you reall y want this girl, I have one suggestion.’
    I lean forward. ‘What is it?’
    â€˜Study.’
    *
    My dad knows a lot of useless information. If there was a quiz show just for council workers, Dad would win for sure. He’d even beat the mayors. For the sake of my love life, I’m hoping Dad can pass some of that useless information on to me.
    He’s doing the crossword when I find him. ‘What’s another word for “foolish”?’ he asks me.
    â€˜How am I s’posed to know? I’m too stupid.’
    â€˜That’s it! Stupid!’ He scribbles something down.
    â€˜You don’t have to agree with me,’ I say. ‘Look, Dad. I need your help. It’s for school.’
    Dad looks up from his crossword. ‘Normally I’d love to, son. But I’ve had a hard day.’
    I raise my eyebrows. ‘But you work for the council.’
    He sighs. ‘It’s not like it used to be. There’s a new rule – morning tea and morning smoko have been combined. Rumour is they’re going to do the same with afternoon tea and afternoon smoko. What a joke! They also want to limit our lunch breaks to an hour—’
    â€˜I just need some help with my maths.’
    â€˜Maths! Why didn’t you say so? It was my favourite subject.’
    â€˜I got a test on triangles. Tomorrow.’
    â€˜Triangles, hey?’ Dad scratches his forehead. ‘Well, let’s start with good ol’ Pythagoras, shall we?’
    â€˜Yeah.’ This sounds good. I’m pretty sure I heard good ol’ Relfy mention good ol’ Pythagoras in class.
    â€˜Well, according to Pythagoras’ theorem, a right-angled triangle is when the sum of the squares of the two shorter sides equals the square of the longest side, called the hypotenuse.’
    â€˜The hyper what?’
    â€˜For example, if the sides of a triangle are 6, 8, and 10, it is a right-angled triangle because 36 + 64 = 100. We can find the length of any side of a right-angled triangle if we know the lengths of the other two sides. Pretty smart bloke that Pythagoras, hey?’
    â€˜Yeah.’ I’m sure Dad knows what he’s talking about; it’s just that I can’t understand a word he’s saying.
    â€˜Anything else, son?’ he asks.
    â€˜Yeah. What’s another word for “stuffed”?’
    Dad holds his pen to his mouth. ‘Done for? Kaput? Up the spout?’
    â€˜Thanks, Dad.’
    â€˜No worries, son.’
    I go find Belinda. She’s chatting to her latest boyfriend on the computer.
    â€˜Can you help me figure out triangles?’ I ask.
    â€˜They’ve got three sides,’ she says.
    Yeah, this is good. She’s talking more on my level.
    â€˜What else?’ I say.
    She stops typing for a second. ‘That’s all I remember. Triangles are so last year.’
    I shake my head and search for Mum. She’s in the laundry, ironing.
    â€˜I need to know about triangles for maths.’
    â€˜I’m terrible at maths,’ she says. ‘You’re best to ask your father.’
    â€˜I did. I can’t understand a word he says.’
    She pushes a button and steam flies up. ‘Yeah, me neither. Do you have a textbook or something?’
    I think for a second. ‘Yeah.’
    â€˜Have you looked at