Free Spurt by Chris Miles Page A

unleash a counterstrike of annoying emojis upon them until they withdraw,’ said the first girl.
    The second girl fixed Jack with an earnest stare. ‘Meet us in the car park at the end of recess. We’ll have more to tell you. Until then, remember one thing. You will be a Bigwig again.’
    And then the three of them whispered together, ‘Ignore the hater. Bring back Jack .’

Jack found a carrel at the back of the library and slipped his laptop from his backpack.
    An online hater. Just the thought of it made him feel jumpy. It was bad enough having Sampson lurking around, talking about Jack’s fatal lack of pubes in front of everyone. Now there was some anonymous weirdo writing stuff about him on the internet. Why now, all of a sudden?
    The Year 7s had said they were looking into it. But first Jack wanted to know exactly what was being said about him.
    He’d just loaded up the Bigwigs fan forum when he heard a familiar voice from the next carrel. ‘What do you mean, “Search not allowed”?’
    Jack rose from his seat and looked over the partition.
    ‘Philo?’
    Philo glanced up from his laptop, looking surprised. ‘Oh! Jack!’ He folded down the laptop screen slightly. ‘Um … hi!’
    ‘Having a problem?’
    ‘No,’ said Philo, shrugging. ‘No problem. Just doing some … research.’
    This was worrying. ‘What sort of research?’
    Philo bit his lip. ‘Nothing.’
    Jack sighed. ‘Not more merkins, Philo, please . Not after the trouble the last one got me into.’
    Philo closed the laptop and gathered it up off the desk. ‘No, not more merkels, Jack. But I’ve got a good feeling that things might be about to look up for you soon. In the pubes area, I mean! Sorry I can’t stay and chat, though. I’ll be in touch!’
    Jack took a deep breath and sat back down. Whatever Philo was up to, it didn’t sound good, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. He had a hater to track down.
    Activity on the Bigwigs forum was building as the new season approached. The hardcore fans obviously knew about the past contestants coming back for some sort of reunion, but there were only guesses about when it might happen – at the start of the new season? Midway through? Just before the finals? There was also fevered speculation about who’d be returning and who wouldn’t.
    Jack was tempted to log on and tell the world that he was one ex-Bigwig who definitely wouldn’t be. But then, in a random comment, Jack saw the word ‘Sprogless’ scroll by.
    He looked at the username attached to the post.
    ‘ModLSkillz’.
    It didn’t mean anything to him.
    I heard that’s what they call him at school. lmao srsly
    Jack looked at ModLSkillz’s profile. Whoever they were, they’d been a member of the forum for two years, but had only started posting the day before. Since then, ModLSkillz had written nearly a dozen posts, all in the same underhand, sneering tone, and all with the same target: Jack Sprigley.
    Jack closed the laptop and stared blankly at the wall, thinking over what he’d seen.
    The only person who’d ever called him ‘Sprogless’ was Oliver Sampson. But surely there was no way Sampson would’ve made an account on the Bigwigs forum two whole years ago. It couldn’t be Sampson. Could it?

    Jack met the girls as planned in the far corner of the staff car park. The bell had rung for third period, and the school grounds were slowly emptying again as Upland Secondary’s students and teachers marshalled themselves for the next stretch of the day.
    Jack scraped his feet nervously against the asphalt as the Year 7 girls approached. Each of them cradled a smoothie cup as though it were a crystal ball.
    Jack lowered his voice. ‘So? Did you find anything out?’
    ‘We have searched,’ said the first girl.
    ‘We have found,’ said the second.
    ‘We have your answer,’ said the third.
    ‘Okay …’ said Jack.
    The girls shared secretive glances and silently sucked on their smoothies. Finally the