Free CHERUB: People's Republic by Robert Muchamore

this morning,’ Shawn moaned, as he tore off a grey T-shirt revealing good muscles with a light sweat on them. ‘Must have worn this shirt for PE twenty times, but today he says I’ve got to wear the proper shirt with the Twin Lakes logo.’
    Ryan tried to sound smooth, though he knew it looked odd, being in front of an open locker in the wrong part of the locker room.
    ‘You’re new, ain’t ya?’ Shawn said, as he disappeared down another row of lockers. ‘I’d put your stuff down here, unless you wanna get towel whipped by a bunch of taco eaters.’
    ‘Could be right, yeah,’ Ryan said. ‘Thanks for the tip.’
    Shawn’s locker slammed and he jogged out in his proper PE shirt, muttering about Mr Oldfield enjoying sexual relations with his own mother. Ryan gave it a couple of seconds before turning back to Guillermo’s locker.
    As he rummaged through a pair of shorts with pizza sauce spattered down the legs, Guillermo’s phone and keys slid out of the pocket, bouncing off the bottom of the locker and hitting the tiled floor hard. The phone was a Nokia brick from the stone age, covered with marker pen and smiley faces drawn in nail varnish.
    Ryan decided it would be good to leave the keys on the floor in front of Guillermo’s locker. He then shut the metal door, grabbed his pack and crossed to the area where Ethan and Yannis changed.
    Ethan was easier because he always used the same locker, though Ryan had to give master key B a good jiggle before it popped open.
    Ryan jumped as Mr Oldfield shouted through the door leading in from the gym. ‘Ryan Brasker, you have sixty seconds or I’m in your face holding a detention slip.’
    The jolt threw Ryan into a shudder, wasting valuable seconds. Once he was sure Mr Oldfield had gone away, Ryan switched Guillermo’s phone from vibrate to the loudest ring setting before reaching inside Ethan’s locker.
    Ethan’s pack was stuffed with books, as well as sandwiches and a wodge of Internet printouts from a chess site. Ryan pushed his hand inside the pack, dropped Guillermo’s Nokia down amidst pencil stubs and long-forgotten chocolate bars, then slammed the metal door.
    This crucial part of the operation was over, but Ryan still didn’t fancy detention. He’d prepared for a quick change by wearing his Twin Lakes PE top under an unbuttoned shirt and his green school issue shorts were revealed as he tugged down baggy cargo shorts and pulled them over his trainers.
    Ryan crossed to the back of the room again and shoved his own stuff into a locker a few doors along from Guillermo. He pulled the rubber band with the key attached over his wrist and jogged out. Mr Oldfield was waiting for him by the exit as boys climbed ropes in the background.
    ‘Something’s not right with you, Brasker,’ Oldfield said.
    Ryan wondered if Shawn had become suspicious and snitched. ‘I don’t know what you mean, sir,’ he said warily.
    ‘You pack muscle,’ Oldfield said, as he leaned in close. ‘You ever wrestled?’
    ‘No, sir,’ Ryan said.
    ‘You’re built like a kid who could wrestle or play ball. But your attitude stinks.’
    Ryan didn’t answer.
    ‘Don’t it?’ Oldfield repeated, loud enough for the kids doing rope work to glance around.
    ‘If you say so, sir,’ Ryan said.
    ‘Twenty laps, then join the rest of the group. Now move!’
    Ryan stifled a smile as he started to run. Twenty laps of a little gym was nothing, and despite a couple of close scrapes, the first part of the plan was in place.

11. GYM
    The lunch bell was ten minutes away as three classes of seventh-grade boys fed into the locker room. A few went for showers, but the majority settled for a squirt of body spray and a dry top.
    The six Latino boys grouped at the back with Guillermo were all in the no-shower camp. Ryan stood a couple of metres from them, wiping a sweaty chest with his balled-up PE shirt.
    Guillermo discovered his house keys on the floor when he stepped up to open his locker. Just as