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me! BAM! This was all MY idea. So if we lost the competition it would be MY fault! To make things worse, Iris and Edith would be judging all the entries.
    I started getting all knotted up inside. I know it’s stupid, but I was totally desperate for Iris and Edith to like us best out of everyone in the class. I wanted to get to know those feisty Blitz sisters better and have a laugh with them in their funky time-warp house. And the more desperate I was for my dream to come true, the more I was convinced I’d blown it.
    By the time I got home, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d been banking on my brother giving me some SERIOUS cheering up. I’d totally forgotten he was staying at Dad’s.
    So I rushed off to Mum. She looked up from her books, and at first I thought she was really listening. But as I burbled on, I realised she was just making those vague mum-noises. You know the kind. “Yes, Rosie. No, Rosie. Oh, you must be feeling absolutely terrible, Rosie.”
    “So I thought I’d just go and boil my head,” I said in my most neutral voice. “And then hack off all my limbs one by one.”
    “Yes, you do that, sweetheart,” said Mum soothingly. “And ask Tiff to defrost some lasagne for tea, would you?”
    So I went to watch TV with my sister Tiffany.
    My sister’s not the most sensitive girl in the world, but even
she
guessed something was wrong when I burst into tears in the middle of a McDonalds commercial. (It was that one where the little children cover their sleeping dad with their entire collection of Beany Babies.)
    “All right, Rosie,” she sighed, “What’s bugging you now?”
    Tiff goes on like I’m always working myself into a froth about nothing. When
she’s
the family member who deserves her own personal soap opera. Still, I was desperate, so I blurted out all my worries.
    “It’s our one and only opportunity to have a genuine Blitz sleepover,” I sniffled. “But it’s all down to me. And I can’t handle that much responsibility If the M&Ms win, the others will never forgive me!”
    To my surprise, Tiff really understood what I was going through.
    “When I was at primary school I had some deadly enemies
just
like Emma and Emily,” she grinned.
    “Yeah?” I said. “Did they sleep in lead-lined coffins?”
    She giggled. “Me and my mates were ALWAYS trying to get one up on them. But if they won, it was like the world had ended.”
    “I know what you mean,” I sighed.
    “The funny thing is, Pippa’s one of my best mates now,” Tiff said casually.
    My mouth fell open. “You’re kidding!” I breathed.
    “It’s true,” she said. “We’ve got absolutely loads in common.”
    I held up my hand. “Don’t even go there,” I said fiercely. “There is no WAY I will ever have anything in common with those mutants.”
    “OK, OK,” said Tiff. “But you shouldn’t let them get to you. You should do the best you can for yourself and your friends, not worry about them.” She ruffled my hair. “Trust me,” she said affectionately. “I know what I’m talking about!”
    I hate to admit it, but my sister was talking sense. It would be great if we really could flatten those Goody Two-Shoes with our combined brilliance. But what mattered was, I’d given it my best shot. With a whole week of waiting ahead of me, I clung bravely to this thought.
    After our chat, we had a really mellow evening. Eventually Mum finished her college work and the three of us sat around stuffing ourselves with supermarket lasagne and watching TV.
    They had one of those
Auntie’s Bloomers
programmes on. And for about the gazillionth time we laughed till we cried, at those poor
Blue Peter
presenters skidding around in all that steaming elephant poo.
    But that night I found myself remembering what Tiff said about her ex-enemy, Pippa. As you can imagine, the idea of becoming best friends with the M&Ms was deeply scary.
    It wouldn’t be SO bad, I thought, if it happened when we’re all very old,