Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story but my friend (Georgina) does own some of the plot and yes, I do like making James look bad.

1.

James ran into his room, screaming and flopped face down on the bed.

"Aaargh!" he shrieked into the pillow. "Could this day get any worse?"

"JAMES!!!" screamed Lauren as she burst into his room, armed with a bottle of washing-up liquid.

"What?" James moaned blearily.

"You. Put. Bethany's. Pants. And. Bra. On. The. Fountain!" she followed each word with a whack from the washing up bottle.

"Oh. That. Well... I was meaning to talk to you 'bout that." He grinned.

WHACK! The washing liquid bottle exploded over James' head. Green gunk dribbled down his face as he stood, gasping. Before James could counter Kyle Blueman walked into the room. As soon as he saw James he cracked up laughing.

"Sweet, Lauren! You finally got him clean for once?" he grinned, as he took out his camera phone and started snapping away. More Kids came in and started laughing.

"Nice one Lauren!"

"I don't think he's clean enough yet!"

"Yeh. His perverted brain ain't clean!"

"Got any more liquid Lauren?"

"Hmm" Lauren smirked, as she poured the rest of the bottle on James' head and triumphantly stalked out, leaving James in a green and gloopy heap on the floor.

James stood in the hot, steamy shower and ran his hands through his longish blond, sticky hair. That washing up liquid got everywhere! His sheets were all gloopy and his duvet had been on top of them! He had just managed to catch the liquid before it soaked into his mattress. The washing up liquid stank too. He had showered TWICE and still couldn't get the smell off his body or the soap out of his hair. Life stank-literally. He bunched his sheets up and chucked them into the corner of his room. He inconspicuously sniffed his armpit. Great - lavender. That was going to really help with the girls. He used LOTS of deodorant and hoped it would cover up the smell….

He rushed into the maths classroom 25 minutes late.

"Sorry Mrs Brennan, I, err, woke up late!"

He hurried into his seat as his classmates, 16 and 17 year olds, began to grin and snigger.

"Hey soapy!"

"Nice girly smell Jamiekins!"

"Hey James! Clean yet?"

"Hey, anyone smell that lovely lavender soap?"

"Whatever." James muttered, trying to ignore the sniggers and whispers.

"Now class, back to this equation…" said Mrs Brennan.

Five minutes before the lesson was due to end Mrs Brennan moved around the desks to collect the homework. Damn! Thought James. His homework was under that big pile of stuff on his desk - unfinished. He was dead meat. Especially as this was his fifth unfinished homework for Mrs Brennan.

"James? Where is your homework?"

"Ummm…"

"DETENTION!"

Brilliant! Sighed James.

James was in Zara's office, slumped in one of her stylish chairs.

"It wasn't me miss!" exclaimed James.

Zara tossed a picture of a statue in a fountain dressed in Bethany's bra and pants. James was standing by the fountain grinning with his thumbs up. Zara coughed.

"No?" she said.

"Well…." Said James, knowing he was getting nowhere. Zara glared at him. "Maybe I had something to do with it."

Zara sighed. "James. You are one of our senior agents. I expect more from you. You know that. So stop playing these stupid practical jokes and do your homework!"

James knew this was a major pep talk. "Yes miss." He groaned. Zara slammed her palms down on the table, making him jump.

"DON'T YES MISS ME JAMES ADAMS!" She yelled. Ooops! Thought James.

"I was trying to make you feel better." Zara said, "Right, I want you to have all your homework up to date by next month and I am putting you on decorating duty for 20 hours."

James gaped. Brilliant. His life was now officially hell.

James stepped out onto the ladder. It was cold and it was drizzling. His baggy painting overalls were thin. He shivered and started painting.

Why was it his life that was always so bad? How come Kerry or Lauren never got in trouble? Okay. He did his fair share of practical jokes and he didn't always hand in his homework. He was just bad at not getting caught. This day was just getting worse, he thought, as he heard thunder in the distance. He looked at his watch. Only fifteen more hours of painting to go. Yippee! Oh yeh, don't forget the meter tall pile of homework to do or the laundry or the… Life was not fair.

James sighed and in his frustration he kicked his tin of paint. It fell and hit one of the painting supervisors on the head.

Great.