"Babysitters Club 059 Mallory Hates Boys (And Gym)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Babysitters Club)

"Us, too! Us, too!" the triplets cried out.
"No fair!" Nicky protested loudly. "If they're staying home I want to stay home, too."
"Pipe down!" said my father. "Nobody's staying home today. Now, all of you, keep moving."
I went to school, but I probably would have learned more that day if I had stayed in my room and studied. I didn't hear a word my teachers said. All I could do was sit and count the minutes until the dreaded gym hour arrived - and plan how to get out of it.
Fantasies raced through my head. I suppose that since I want to be a writer when I'm older (I want to write and illustrate children's books) it's natural for me to make up stories. Let me tell you, I came up with some doozies that morning.
My favorite of all was the one in which I was hit on the head with a volleyball in the first second of the game. I had to be rushed to the hospital where I developed amnesia. Everyone felt extremely guilty that they'd forced me to play. "If only we'd let her stay home/' my mother said sorrowfully to my father.
That story gave me an idea. I could (if I had the nerve) pretend to faint dead away on the floor. Preferably this would happen in the locker room so I wouldn't have to appear in public in my gym suit.
It was with this plan in the back of my mind that I headed toward gym class. I realized it was a rather drastic plan, but this was a desperate situation.
"Hi," Jessi greeted me when I entered the locker room.
I wiggled my fingers at her in a half-hearted greeting as I pulled open a locker three doors away from hers. Now I had a decision to make. Should I fill her in on my plan? No. Jessi is a very honest person and she can't lie to save her life. If she knew I was faking, her face would tip everyone off. Besides, she'd probably try to talk me out of it.
"That jumpsuit looks cool on you," she commented as she changed into her baggy
blue shorts and white camp-style shirt. Somehow the gym suit doesn't look nearly as bad on her as it does on me. In fact, it looks almost nice. But Jessi looks good in anything.
"Oh, this? Thanks," I muttered. My mind was on my plan. I had to find just the right moment to drop to the floor.
But the right moment never seemed to come. The truth was that I couldn't get up the nerve to do it. And time was running out. Soon almost all the girls were dressed and moving out to the gym.
"Are you coming, Mal?" Jessi asked.
"Um, yeah. You go ahead," I told her. That was the problem. I couldn't do it in front of Jessi. I'd feel too dumb.
"Okay, you better hurry," said Jessi, heading for the door.
This is it, I told myself. Now! I squinched my eyes shut and crumpled to the floor.
I waited, expecting to hear a wave of shocked and concerned voices begin to gather around me.
I didn't hear anything.
What was going on? Hadn't anyone noticed? Didn't anyone care that I was lying in a pathetic heap on the floor?
Cautiously, I squinked open one eye No one was around. I lifted my head and looked.
That's when I realized the humiliating truth. I'd waited too long. No one was left in the locker room.
With a deep sigh, I pulled myself up onto the bench. At that moment, my gym teacher, Ms. Walden, came barrelling back into the locker room from the gym outside. "Pike," she barked when she saw me, "you're late! Get dressed and get out there."
She pulled open a supply cabinet and rummaged inside.
I got dressed, not knowing what else to do.
In a minute, Ms. Walden emerged from the closet with two big cardboard boxes. "Ms. Walden, I don't feel so - "I began in a small voice.
She didn't hear me. Instead she plunked one of the boxes on the bench by me. "Here, you can carry one of these out for me. And get a move on!"
With that she was gone. I peeked into the box. It was filled with blue, red, orange, and green colored cotton pinnies. The only thing that could make our gym suits look uglier than they already were was to put a crumpled, faded pinny over it. It was the finishing touch.
But now I had no choice but to go out to the gym. They were waiting for me to bring the rest of the pinnies. There was nothing to do but go.
I dressed and went out to the gym. Normally the gym is divided into two parts by a movable wall. The boys take gym on one side and the girls on the other. Today the wall was moved aside the way it is for basketball games.
On the bleachers at the far side of the gym sat the sixth-grade boys, a combined class of about forty boys listening to their gym teacher, Mr. De Young.
Four volleyball nets had been set up on each side of the gym. There was no getting away from it. This was really happening. The only good thing about the situation was that Ben didn't have gym this period. That would have meant one perfectly great boyfriend down the drain, for sure.
My classmates were seated on the bleachers closest to me. In front of them stood Ms. Wal-den showing them something on a rolling blackboard. She motioned for me to bring the box to her. 1 set it down beside her and found a spot on the bleacher. "Pike, write your name on a piece of paper and drop it in that basket," Ms. 'Walden said, pointing to a basket on the bottom bleacher. "We're picking teams at random. You'll play with these same teammates for the entire volleyball unit."
This was good news and bad news. The bad news was that I might not be on the same team as Jessi. And I had been counting on
having her near to make jokes and wisecracks through this ordeal. The good news was that I wouldn't have to be crushed by the fact that no one would pick me for their team. This way, my teammates would have no choice. They'd be stuck with me, like it or not.
As Ms. Walden continued to review the rules of volleyball with the help of her blackboard drawings, I dropped my name in the basket. When she was done, Ms. Walden joined Mr. De Young in the center of the gym and they combined the names. Then came the long, drawn-out process of pulling out the names and separating everyone into different teams. I prayed it would take up the entire period.
Jessi scooted over beside me on the bleacher. "You look terrible. Do you feel all right?" she asked.
"I'm going to make a total jerk of myself," I told her. "And in front of all these boys!"
"Everyone will be paying attention to their own game," she pointed out.
"Yeah, and the kids on my team will be paying attention to me, because I'll be the worst player on the team."
Jessi gave my arm a friendly squeeze. "You're not that bad."
I looked at her. How could she be. so calm? And why did her gym suit look so good on
her? "Do you iron your gym suit?" I asked.
"Aunt Cecelia does. She irons everything. Even underwear/' Jessi replied with a laugh.
My outfit had the casual, rumpled look that can only be achieved by taking my shorts and shirt straight from the dryer and stuffing them into my knapsack. I made a mental note to iron my gym suit.
"Mallory Pike, green team," Ms. Walden called out.
"So long," 1 told Jessi as I slid off the bleacher.
"It won't be as bad as you think," she said, smiling. Good old Jessi. She had no idea.
The green team was to play at the net at the far end of the gym. 1 felt as if 1 were walking in slow motion, and everyone in the gym was staring at me. 1 had never been so aware of my arms before. Suddenly I had no idea what to do with them. 1 crossed them, but that felt dumb. Then 1 put them behind my back, but that made me look like I was in handcuffs. 1 placed them at my sides and felt like a robot.