Spurt by Chris Miles

changed at all, Sprigley. Everyone’s going to think there’s something wrong with you.’ With that, Sampson forced his way past Jack and took the closest exit from the quadrangle – nearly knocking over a couple of Year 10s on the way.
    ‘We’ll see,’ Jack called after him, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He’d already texted his mum. She was probably emailing the producers as he spoke. It was basically a done deal.
    He turned to the others and shrugged. ‘I think people might be surprised. They might not even recognise me.’
    Vivi gave Jack a look. ‘What do you mean “might”?’

Jack’s bed sat at an awkward angle in the middle of the bungalow. Boxes full of books and magazines and comics were stacked against the wall near the doorway to the tiny ensuite.
    ‘So where do you think the bed should go?’ Jack asked Philo.
    Philo appeared to be deep in thought. ‘On the floor,’ he concluded.
    Jack sighed and threw himself onto the bed. ‘It doesn’t matter, I’ll decide later. At least all the big stuff’s shifted in now. Thanks heaps for helping me, Philo.’
    Philo sat at the foot the bed. He was supposed to be manning the Sultana World stand at the Upland Tourist Information Centre, but apparently he’d persuaded his parents to let him have a rare Saturday off. ‘It’s no bother, Jack. I could do this all day!’
    Lucky , thought Jack. They’d been moving furniture since eight in the morning.
    First, they’d moved all of his gran’s things out of the bungalow and piled them up in the back room of the house. There were still a few things to move out of Jack’s room – garbage bags full of his clothes, his schoolbag and a few miscellaneous oddities from under his bed – before they could start moving Marlene’s things in.
    They’d already shifted so many boxes and moved so many pieces of furniture that Jack’s arms and legs were throbbing in places he doubted he’d even grown muscles yet. Philo, though, showed no sign of flagging. He seemed able to lift heavy objects with the power of cheerfulness alone. He hadn’t even complained when Jack had dropped a chest of drawers on his toe. (Jack suspected that he hadn’t actually noticed.)
    ‘It’s a bummer that Vivi and the others couldn’t help. We could’ve had everyone pitching in together!’
    ‘Yeah …’ said Jack. He hadn’t actually told them about his plan to move into the bungalow. ‘They’re being kind of immature about it, to be honest. They don’t really get the whole “keeping up with the other Bigwigs” thing.’
    ‘Oh, so all the other Bigwigs are moving into their own apartments?’
    ‘Not all of them,’ said Jack. ‘Just Piers Blain.’
    ‘But not you?’
    ‘Yes, me! What do you think we’re doing right now?’
    ‘But this isn’t an apartment. It’s a granny flat.’
    ‘Bachelor pad.’
    ‘Right. So where are the other Bigwigs moving to?’
    ‘Nowhere! But they’ve got other stuff going on. Amit Gondra’s got a totally hot girlfriend who’s older than him. Girlfriends, boyfriends, internet addictions, belly button piercings … they’ve all changed in, like, really obvious ways.’
    Philo gave him a solemn look. ‘Jack, I really don’t think you should get your belly button pierced.’
    ‘Come on, Philo. I’m clearly not going to get my belly button pierced. That would look ridiculous.’ (He decided he’d probably just get a tattoo.) ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’d better finish moving Gran’s stuff.’
    Philo followed Jack out of the bungalow and into the midday heat. A badly timed taste of summer was blowing through Upland. Jack wished it had come on a day when he wasn’t shifting heavy furniture around. He opened the sliding door into the back room of the house, where they were met by the sight of Hallie, fresh from the shower, surveying the pile of Marlene’s belongings with a pained look on her face.
    ‘What’s all this crap still doing here? No offence,