"Blume, Judy - Just As Long As We're Together" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blume Judy)

Rachel carried the wallpaper. As we passed Number 25 I said, "That's Alison's house. She's in Mrs. Remo's homeroom, too."
Rachel froze."That is so unfair!" She has some-
one named Ms. Levano for homeroom. "I don't know what I'm going to do if we're not in the same classes."
"Don't worry," I said, "we will be."
"I hope you're right."
The lights were on in Alison's house but the curtains were pulled closed so we couldn't see anything.
"What's she like?" Rachel asked.
"She's small and friendly," I said. "She seems okay."
"Except for that talking-dog business."
"It is possible," I said.
"Come on, Stephanie! There's no such thing as a talking dog. If there was we'd have heard about it."
"Maybe so," I said.
When we got to my house Mom was working at her computer. Since she got it she doesn't have to spend such long hours at the office. "Dad called, Steph. He's waiting for you to call him back."
"Okay. . ." I left Rachel in the den with Mom and called Dad from the kitchen phone. It's funny talking to him in L.A. because when it's eight o'clock here it's only five o'clock there. He was still at the office and I was about to get ready for bed.
"I miss you," Dad said.
"I miss you, too. When will you be home?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"I hope it won't be long."
"I'll definitely be home for Thanksgiving."
"Dad. . . that's more than two months away."
"There's no way I can get back before then, Steph. I have to make two trips to Hawaii and one to the Orient."
I didn't say anything for a minute. Neither did Dad. Then he said, "Well. . . have a good first day at school."
"Rachel and I aren't even in the same homeroom," I said.
"Don't worry. . . you'll do fine without Rachel."
"I'm not worried. Who said I was worried? I'm just saying it's not fair since we're best friends."
"You and Rachel will still see each other after school."
"What do you mean after school?" I asked. "We'll be on the same bus and we'll probably be in all the same classes."
"So you'll be together all the time . . . just like before."
"That's right," I said.
"What's the weather like?" Dad asked. He loves to hear about the weather.
"Hot and humid with a chance of thunderstorms."
We talked for a few more minutes, then I went back to the den.
"Rachel's waiting upstairs," Mom told me.
"Surprise!" Rachel called, when I got to my room. She held up my notebook. She had covered it while I was talking to Dad. "What do you think?" she asked.
I wanted to cover my own notebook is what I thought. But I couldn't say that to Rachel. Her feelings would be hurt. So I said, "It looks good."
"It's really hard to get perfect corners with wallpaper," she said. "Want me to print your name and address inside?"
"I'll do it myself."
"Okay. . . but I'll draw the lines so the letters are even." She searched my desk. "Where's your ruler?" she asked.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'll do it later."
When Rachel left I took a bath and washed my hair. It feels funny washing short hair when you're used to having it longer. The other night, when Rachel first saw me, she'd asked, "What'd you do to your hair, Steph?"
"I got carried away," I'd told her. "It was so hot when I came home from camp I decided to cut it all off."
"Yourself?"
"No, I went to the Final Cut."
"It's kind of interesting," Rachel had said. "Especially from the back."
I liked my short hair for about a week. Now I wish I'd never done it. It'll probably take all year to grow back.
I wrapped myself in a towel and left the steamy bathroom. I still couldn't believe Dad wasn't coming home until Thanksgiving. He's never been away that long. But fall goes a lot faster than winter, I reminded myself. It's my favorite time of year, not counting spring. I also like summer a lot. And winter is fun because of the snow . . . I began to feel better.
Before I got into bed I found my ruler. It was under Wiley Coyote, my number one stuffed animal. Dad won him for me last year at the Jaycees' Carnival. I drew four straight lines on the inside of my notebook, then printed my name and address. There, I thought, admiring my work.
I got into bed and looked up at Benjamin Moore. I hope I meet someone just like him at junior high.
Homeroom.
I introduced Alison to Rachel at the bus stop the next morning. Alison was wearing baggy pants, a white shirt about ten sizes too big, and running shoes. She had sunglasses around her neck, on a leash, and a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. The tangles were brushed out of her hair but her part was still crooked. All in all she looked great.