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

A present? I nearly fainted. Even my daydreams hadn't prepared me for this. "What is it?" I cried.
"Open it up and see." Travis grinned at me. "I think you're going to like it."
My first present from Travis. My hands were shaking as I untied the bow. "A necklace!" I lifted a string of beautiful blue beads out of the box.
"There's more," Travis said. I found two hair combs nestled in the tissue paper. They were deep blue, like the beads.
"But it's not my birthday or anything," I protested.
Travis leaned forward and gently lowered the necklace over my head. "When I saw this, it just made me think of you. That's all. It's the same shade as your eyes."
"It is?" I felt ridiculously pleased.
"Definitely. And I had a special reason for buying the combs. I saw a girl on TV who had her hair swept back at the sides, like this." He lifted my fine blonde hair and tucked it behind my ears. "This is a much better style for you. It brings out your .eyes and your cheekbones. I think you should try it."
"I guess I could," I said, flustered. "Usually, I just brush my hair and wear it straight. It's so long."
"Oh, yeah. That's another thing I wanted to mention." Travis picked up a strand of hair and looked at it critically. "When's the last time you got your hair cut?"
"Cut? I never get it cut. Well, sometimes I have the ends trimmed a little."
Travis gave me a very serious look. "I think you should lose a few inches, maybe three or four. It will give your hair more lift, you know?"
"Maybe," I said doubtfully. I like my hair the way it is - very long and fine. Whenever I try a new style, I usually hate it and go right back to wearing it straight.
"I'm not talking about anything drastic," Travis went on, "just a sort of trim. You could just ask the hairdresser or someone to shape
it up if you want." He laid his hand very gently over mine, just for second. "Think about it, okay? For me."
For me! I nearly slid off the step. I knew that Travis must be really interested in me or he never would have gone to all this trouble.
"Of course I will," I told him.
He grinned and stood up. "I've got to run. My mom wants me to go shopping for her."
"Thanks for the necklace and the combs - " I began awkwardly.
"That's okay," Travis interrupted, heading toward the car. "But remember, I want to see you in that new hairstyle." He started the engine, waved good-bye, and headed down the street.
I stood rooted to the spot with a silly grin on my face. Travis liked me!
I could have stood there daydreaming forever, but I didn't want to waste a minute. I picked up the combs and dashed inside the house.
"Mary Anne!" I yelled, thundering up the stairs. "Get a brush and some scissors. We have work to do!"
Chapter 5.
Jessi's baby-sitting job with the Hobarts turned out to be one of the best afternoons of her life. Who would think that putting on a play with five kids (the three Hobart boys and two of the Perkins girls) could be so much fun?
When the Hobarts first moved into the neighborhood, naturally everyone was very curious about them. Some of the kids said that the Hobarts talked just like Crocodile Dundee, so we decided to see for ourselves. What did we find? Four boys, all with red hair and great accents! But a few kids actually made fun of the way the Hobarts talked, and we thought this was incredibly rude. After all, maybe the Hobarts thought we sounded funny with our American accents.
But back to Jessi's baby-sitting job. Mrs. Hobart asked her to come over at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. She and her husband were going out shopping and they needed someone to watch the three youngest boys, James, age eight; Mathew, age six; and Johnny, who is only four. Ben, the oldest boy, is in my class, so he obviously didn't need a sitter. And anyway, he was taking Mal to the movies that afternoon.
The three younger boys were playing out-
side when Myriah and Gabbie Perkins ran over to say hello.
"Hi, Jessi Ramsey," Gabbie yelled. Gabbie is two and a half and calls most people by their full names. She has two sisters, Myriah, who is almost six, and Laura, who is just a baby. The Perkinses moved into Bradford Court when they bought Kristy's old house. They have given the BSC lots of business, and we love to sit for them.
All three girls are great, and Myriah is especially theatrical. She can sing and dance (tap and ballet), and is even into gymnastics. Since Jessi is a dancer, she feels that she has a lot in common with her. Jessi says she's always impressed when little kids can get up and perform, because she knows how hard it is to face an audience. Myriah can sing "On the Good Ship Lollipop," and she knows "Tomorrow" from Annie by heart. A lot of kids love to sing, but Myriah is really good at it. She's just like someone you'd see on TV. When she sings, she knows every word. She's right on pitch and she even gets the timing right.
Anyway, when the Perkins girls ran over, they didn't come alone. They brought their dog with them. Chewbacca is a huge black
Labrador who is extremely friendly. (Sometimes too friendly!) He looks like a small bear but acts like a puppy.
"Chewbacca, quit that!" Myriah shouted. Chewbacca was running in circles, trampling the Hobarts' flower beds. "He's just had a bath," she explained, "and that always makes him crazy."
"Bring him over to the patio," Jessi said. "Let's all sit at the picnic table and play a game."
"What kind of game?" Mathew asked. He still has a trace of an Australian accent. "Something fun?"
"Definitely something fun." Jessi looked at Chewbacca. Playing Frisbee was out. Chewbacca had already chomped his way through three of them.
"Let's have a rehearsal," Myriah suggested. "That's my favorite thing to do in the whole world."
"A rehearsal?" Jessi said blankly. "I was thinking of playing 'I Packed My Grandmother's Trunk' - " She was immediately outvoted.
"No, we want to rehearse!" James and Mathew yelled. "We'll show you our play." 1
should tell you that the Hobart kids are very interested in drama, and Mathew was given the lead in his school play.
"You're putting on a play?" Jessi asked.
"An original one," James said proudly. "I'm writing it."
An eight-year-old kid writing a play? Jessi was impressed.
"We've been working on it for a couple of weeks," Myriah piped up. "Do you want to see how far we've gotten?"
"Sure," Jessi told her. And she saw the perfect opportunity to send Chewbacca back to his own house. "But don't you think you better take Chewy home first? You could leave him on the sun porch so he won't interrupt the rehearsal."
"No, Chewbacca has to stay," Myriah replied. "Mommy says we have to keep him outside till he dries off." She grinned. "Besides, he's our star."
Oh, no. Jessi groaned inwardly. Then she poured herself a glass of lemonade and sat back to watch the show. After a few minutes, she found herself getting really interested. Even though there was a lot of giggling (and almost everyone forgot some of their lines), the play was good.
The story was very simple. Chewy (the hero) was a lost dog who wandered up and down a busy shopping mall, looking for his owner. Jessi started to point out that dogs aren't usually allowed in malls, but she knew that would spoil the fun.
Myriah had the opening lines. "Hello, doggie," she said brightly. "Don't you have a home?" She walked up to Chewy and pretended to inspect his neck. "Uh-oh," she said, making a face. "No collar." She rolled her eyes. "Now it's going to be really hard to find your owner." Chewy jumped up and started licking her face. "Down, Chewy," she said sharply. "I mean, down, doggie."