"Babysitters Club 037 Dawn And The Older Boy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Babysitters Club)

"I wouldn't call it going out together," Mal said. She looked a little flustered, and I knew she wasn't thrilled at being the center of attention. "We're just going to a movie."
"Sounds like going out to me," I teased her. Naturally, my mind went to Travis. I'd give
anything to go to a movie with him, and I wouldn't care if anyone called it going out or not.
"Let's get back to business," Kristy said crisply. "Who's available on Saturday?" Mary Anne pored through the record book, and it turned out that Jessi was free.
She nodded to Kristy, who already had her hand on the phone. "Tell her I'll be there," Jessi piped up. "The Hobarts are great."
The meeting broke up shortly after that, and Mary Anne and I rode our bikes home in the fading sunlight. I couldn't help but think about Mal and her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date. I tried to imagine what it would be like to go on a date with Travis. What if he just called me up out of the blue and asked me out? What if he asked me out for pizza or a movie? What would I do, what would I say, what would I wear? I was thinking so hard, I nearly rode into the gutter.
"Dawn, wake up!" Mary Anne said. "You're in another world."
I tightened my grip on the handlebars and tried to look serious. It was hard, though, because I really was in another world. A world filled with just two people - myself and Travis.
Chapter 4.
Have you ever had a funny feeling that something exciting was going to happen to you? That's how I felt during the next few days, except I wasn't sure if it was going to be wonderful-exciting or awful-exciting. (Once I just knew that I was going to have an exciting day, and that was the day Claudia broke her leg. So it's better not to get your hopes up too high when that feeling hits you.)
The feeling was pretty strong by the weekend, though. At about ten o'clock on a sunny Saturday morning, Mary Anne and I were raking the front yard while our parents were out shopping. We have a really enormous lawn, and when it's covered with leaves, it seems as big as a football field. But before you picture the yard, I better tell you about our house. When Mom and I moved to Stoneybrook after the divorce, we didn't buy a normal house like
most people. Instead, we bought a colonial farmhouse that's over two hundred years old. I love it. It has lots of little rooms, and the doorways are so low that tall people have to duck under them. Mom says people used to be shorter in the 1700s. Anyway, it also has a smokehouse, a barn, and an outhouse. If you like spooky old houses, then you'd love this one, because it even has a secret passage. There's a long dark tunnel that leads from my bedroom to the barn, and we think that it was probably part of the Underground Railroad, which helped slaves escape from the South before and during the Civil War. It's exactly like something out of a ghost story. (I'm a big fan of ghost stories, in case you hadn't guessed.)
But back to that Saturday morning. Mary Anne and I had gotten up early and pulled on our oldest jeans, ready to tackle the front yard. Even with two people raking, it was like attacking an iceberg with a toothpick, but we were making some progress. I was wearing my Walkman, lost in my own world, when Mary Anne grabbed me by the arm.
"Look, look!" she mouthed. She pushed me around so I faced the driveway, and my stomach did a somersault. A dark blue Chevy was
pulling up in front of our house, and a moment later, a terrific-looking boy got out. Not just any terrific-looking boy, though. Train's.
"Ohmigosh!" I whispered to Mary Anne, pulling off my headphones. "What am I going to do?" I felt like someone had just yanked the lawn out from under my feet, and I nearly dropped the rake.
"You're going to say hello to him," Mary Anne said calmly. (It was easy for her to be calm, because she didn't feel the same way about him that I did.)
By now, Travis was strolling toward us, and without thinking, I brushed my hair out of my eyes. Unfortunately, I also left a big black smudge on my face, but I didn't realize it.
"What will I say? How do I look?" I asked desperately. Mary Anne smiled and didn't answer me. She was already waving hello to Travis and heading back toward the house. I know she was giving us the chance to talk privately (Mary Anne is always tactful), but suddenly, I didn't want her to leave. I was afraid to be alone with Travis, afraid that I would make an idiot out of myself. (Also, Richard and my mom have very strict rules about us having boys over when they are not
home. Boys are not allowed in the house. Period.)
"Hi, there," Travis said, walking up to me. (He certainly wasn't nervous.) He looked fantastic in a pair of jeans faded to just the right blue-white shade, and a heavy, new SHS (Stoneybrook High School) jacket.
"I didn't know you could drive," I blurted out. What a brilliant remark. For some reason, whenever I was around Travis, I seemed to lose the power of reasonable speech.
He shrugged, not the least bit embarrassed. "I've been driving since the day I turned sixteen."
I should explain that it's legal to drive at sixteen in Connecticut, but I don't know anyone who really starts driving at that age. The parents of Charlie Thomas, and a lot of other kids I know, make them wait until they're seventeen before they can drive alone. Some parents even make their kids wait until they're seventeen just to take the driver's test.
"Um, I like your car." This wasn't the world's most fascinating remark, either, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances.
"Thanks." Travis looked pleased, and we
automatically started walking back toward the house. I waited about fifteen seconds for him to say something (it seemed like fifteen hours) and finally asked him if he'd like some lemonade.
"Maybe a little later," he said, turning on that thousand-kilowatt smile. "Why don't we sit out here and talk for awhile." He touched my elbow and gestured to the front step.
"Sure." I gulped. So Travis really had come over just to talk to me. You're probably wondering why I didn't know this all along. I guess I did, but I couldn't believe it. I nearly asked him what he wanted to talk about but caught myself just in time. I decided it was time to stop making stupid remarks and try to start a real conversation. Before I had a chance to open my mouth again, he beat me to it.
"Fifty thousand miles on her, but you'd never know it," he said, pointing to the Chevy.
I nodded, not sure how to respond. Was fifty thousand miles good or bad? It sounded like a lot of miles, but since I don't drive, I'm not really up on things like this. I decided to play it safe. "It's nice that your parents let you borrow it," I said.
Travis laughed. "Borrow it? She's all mine. I can drive her whenever I want." He paused and pulled out a package of sugarless gum. After offering me a stick (I refused - the last thing I wanted to do was get gum stuck to my teeth during an important conversation) he went on. "I have to pay for the gas and the insurance."
I nodded again. I was beginning to feel like one of those doll heads that bob up and down in the back windows of cars. "It looks very . . . shiny," I said finally.
Travis beamed and I knew I had said the right thing. "Three coats of Super-Gloss," he said proudly. "You see, Dawn, the whole trick is to dry the car thoroughly in between each coat. A lot of people don't take the time, and that's why they get water spots."
"Oh," I said appreciatively. I had never thought about water spots before, but Travis made them sound almost interesting. "I'll have to remember that."
"And always use an old terry cloth towel. It doesn't scratch the finish, but it gives you a nice shine. That's extremely important." I smiled and tried to look encouraging.
We could probably have talked about cars a
little more, but Travis abruptly changed the subject. "So tell me, how do you like Stoneybrook Middle School?"
"Oh, I think it's great," I began. "All my friends are there - "
"That's nice," he cut in. "I make friends easily, too. A lot of people think it's tough to change schools, but not for me. I make friends wherever I go."
"So I guess you like Stoneybrook High - "
"You bet!" Travis said enthusiastically. "The first day I was there, I was invited to join five clubs. Five!" He ticked them off on his fingers. "The debate club, the drama club, the pep club, the computer club . . . oh, yeah, and the Latin club."
"That's nice," I said weakly. The Latin club didn't surprise me a bit - I was pretty sure it was all girls.
"And once they found out I play soccer and tennis" (Travis shook his head in mock amazement) "they drafted me on the spot."
"Wow!" That was all I could manage before Travis revved up again. I had never met anyone so energetic. (Or so talented, or so good-looking . . .)
"It was really funny," he added, "but the next day, Coach Higgins and Coach Reilly
both showed up at the same time. One wanted me for basketball and the other wanted me for football." He laughed. "It was like a tug-of-
war."
"I can imagine." I laughed a little to show I was getting into the spirit of things.
"Well, that's enough about me," he said suddenly. "Let's talk about you." He pulled out a small white box. "I brought you something."