Finn's First Sleepover
8 pages · 7 min · ages 5+
“Toothbrush?” “Check!” “Pyjamas?” “Check!” “Teeth?” Finn grinned all two hundred of them. “Check!” It was Finn's very first sleepover, at his best friend Octavia's cave, and his tail had been swishing since breakfast. Mum gave him a kiss on the nose at the door. “Be good,” she said. “And remember, when you get nervous…” “I know, I know,” said Finn. “We do not bite.” Octavia was waiting in the doorway, bouncing on all eight arms. “Come in, come in! We've got a hammock, and a glowing shell, and Dad made seaweed pancakes!” Finn swam in. The door shut behind him with a soft thunk. Finn's teeth gave a tiny click.
Octavia's cave was brilliant. There were bubbles coming out of the walls and a hammock made of seaweed, and a big shell lamp that glowed purple. There was also Octavia's dad, who was the biggest octopus Finn had ever seen. He had round spectacles and eight very long arms, and he was pouring tea with four of them at once. “Welcome, Finn,” said Octavia's dad, in a voice as deep as the sea. Finn's tummy did a flip. His jaws did a snap. CHOMP! He bit a piece out of the cushion he was holding. Feathery sponge floated everywhere. “Finn,” said Octavia, very seriously, “we do not bite the cushion.”
They ate seaweed pancakes. They played shell-hockey. They built a fort out of cushions, minus one. Finn had so much fun that he forgot to be nervous, until Octavia's dad said, “Lights out, you two,” and turned the big shell lamp down to a tiny purple glow. It was very dark. It was very quiet. And then, from somewhere far away, came a long, low sound. Ooooooooooooo. Finn's eyes went wide. Octavia's eyes went even wider. And something small and inky puffed out of Octavia and hung in the water like a little black cloud. “Oops,” said Octavia. “I ink when I'm nervous.”
“What was that?” whispered Finn. “Probably just a whale,” whispered Octavia. “Singing.” Ooooooooooooo. Finn's jaws did not wait to find out. CHOMP! He bit the edge of the glowing shell lamp. It went out. Now it was completely dark. “Finn,” said Octavia's voice in the darkness, “we do not bite the lamp.” Puff. More ink. “Octavia,” said Finn's voice, “I can't see anything.” “That's the ink,” said Octavia. “Sorry.” They sat in the dark, one of them chomping and one of them inking, and neither of them felt very brave at all.
Finn remembered his trick, the one from the dentist. When he was nervous, he wiggled his tail, and then his jaws forgot to chomp. “Big shark, brave shark, wiggle wide!” he whispered, and wiggled. Swish, swish, swish. It worked. His jaws stayed still. But Finn was a shark, and a shark tail is a big tail, and the hammock was a small hammock. It swung. Then it swung more. Then it swung right round in a circle, with Finn in it, and knocked over the cushion fort, and the fort fell on Octavia. Puff! “Finn,” said a small inky voice from under the cushions, “we do not wiggle the hammock.”
Finn climbed out of the hammock and sat on the floor. “I want to go home,” he said in a very small voice. “Me too,” said a voice from under the cushions. Finn blinked. “But this is your home.” Octavia's head came out of the pile. Her cap was over one eye. “I've never had a sleepover either,” she whispered. “I was scared you wouldn't have fun.” Finn looked at her. Octavia had been nervous all night too. She just did it with ink instead of teeth. Finn had an idea. “Octavia,” he said. “Do you want to learn my trick?”
Finn showed her. “Big shark, brave shark, wiggle wide.” Octavia didn't have a tail. But she had eight arms, and she could wiggle all of them. “Big octopus, brave octopus, wiggle wide!” Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. They wiggled together in the dark. They wiggled until they were giggling. They giggled so much that Octavia did one last tiny puff of ink, but it was a happy puff this time, shaped like a heart. Far away, the whale sang again. Ooooooooooooo. Finn's jaws did not chomp once. “That's a nice song, actually,” said Finn. And they both fell asleep in the middle of a wiggle.
In the morning, there was a knock at the door. It was Finn's mum. “How was it?” she asked. “The best,” said Finn and Octavia together. Then Octavia's dad came to the door, all eight arms, spectacles and teapot, and said in his voice as deep as the sea, “Good morning. You must be Finn's mother.” Finn's mum looked up at the biggest octopus she had ever seen. Her gills went pink. Her eyes went wide. CHOMP! She bit a piece out of the doorframe. Everybody looked at the doorframe. Finn patted his mum on the fin. “Mum,” said Finn, “we do not bite the door.”