"BSC034 - Mary Anne and Too Many Boys - Martin, Ann M" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"Ha! Believe me, I am. He was staring at you so hard, I thought his eyes were going to
fall out of his head. If I were Logan, I'd be worried right about now."
"Logan has nothing to worry about," I said stiffly. (Mal raised her eyebrows.)
Stacey considered what I'd said and then giggled. "Do you mean, what he doesn't know won't hurt him?"
I turned to look at her. "No, I mean Logan doesn't have to worry because I will always be true to him. He's my boyfriend and always will be."
I raised my voice without meaning to, because I was feeling so confused. It was amazing, but I hadn't even thought of Logan until now. I meant what I said about Logan being my boyfriend. But could a visit from Alex change all that? I didn't have an answer. Suddenly nothing was making any sense at all.
Chapter 8.
There was a big mix-up Friday night. It wasn't Stacey's fault, but it wasn't my fault, either. (And I'm the one who got stuck.) This is the way it happened. Mr. and Mrs. Pike said that Stacey and I could have one evening off each week, but they asked us to take the evenings separately. I could see their point. That way they could go out every evening if they wanted to, knowing that Mal and either Stacey or I would baby-sit. Stacey and I were a little disappointed with the arrangement because we liked evenings off together, but we didn't say anything. We didn't even talk about it, which was a shame, because we should have straightened out our nights off in the beginning.
The first inkling I had that something was wrong was when I saw Stacey drag out the iron. It was six-thirty on Friday evening, and we had just cleaned up the kitchen after an early supper. Stacey hates to iron, and I was
amazed to see her spread a white cotton sundress over the ironing board in the corner of the kitchen.
''You're ironing?" I said incredulously.
Stacey touched her finger to her nose like you do in charades when someone guesses the right word.
I felt a little silly. It was pretty obvious that she was ironing, the question was . . . why? "I meant, why are you doing that now?"
Stacey looked up, her blue eyes very bright against her tanned face. "Well, I can't go out on a date with a wrinkled dress, can I?"
"A date?"
"With Toby." She bent over the sundress, humming a little song. She suddenly looked a little pale, even under her suntan, and I wondered if she felt okay. Stacey's diabetes is under control, but she has to watch her diet and medication. "We're going to the arcade tonight. You don't think this is too dressy, do you?" she asked worriedly. She didn't wait for me to answer, which is just as well, because I was standing there with my mouth hanging open. "I want to wear white because it will show off my tan."
"You're going to the arcade?" I blurted out. "Tonight?"
"It will certainly bring back memories," she
said with a sigh. I knew exactly what she meant. The last time she went to the arcade, she and Toby had had what you would call a very romantic evening. He won a stuffed teddy bear for her, which she immediately named "Toby-Bear." But the really big news was that they went through the Tunnel of Luv, where Toby gave Stacey her first kiss.
"I remember the last time we went to the arcade," she began. "It was such an incredible evening Ч "
I could tell Stacey was revving up for a lot of mushy memories, but I had something more important on my mind. If Stacey was going out with Toby that night, I had to say something Ч fast!
"Urn, Stacey," I said, "I'm afraid there's a problem."
"A problem?" She blinked and put the iron on its end. At last I had her full attention.
"I'm going out tonight. With Alex."
"What?!" She managed to put a lot of emotion into that one word, and it wasn't surprise. It was outrage.
"That's right. Alex. Tonight. At eight." I didn't want to mention that we were planning on going to the arcade. There was no point in making her feel worse than she already did.
I thought she'd head straight for the phone to cancel with Toby, but she surprised me. She went right back to ironing!
"Stacey, did you hear me?"
"Of course/' she said smoothly. "You'll just have to cancel with Alex. What a shame." She was very matter-of-fact about it.
Now it was my turn to be outraged. "Why should I cancel?" I demanded. "You had no right to make a date without asking me."
Stacey's eyes widened. "I don't need your permission to go out with Toby."
"You mean you just took it for granted that I'd stay home with Mal and the kids?"
"Well, one of us has to be here," she said reasonably. "And anyway, all you have to do is tell Alex you'll see him tomorrow night."
She flounced up to our room to get changed and left me fuming in the kitchen. I couldn't believe that Stacey was being so selfish.
I was still thinking about our fight as Mal and I helped the kids get ready for bed that night. I went into Vanessa's room to close the window, while Mal helped Claire and Margo.
"Mary Anne," she said, "can you stay and talk to me for a minute?"
"Sure." I sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's up?"
"I've been doing some writing," she said.
She reached under the bed and pulled out a notepad and a ballpoint pen.
"Poems?" I asked.
"Well," she said, "yes. But different from the usual ones. I'm writing some poems for Chris. You know, the boy at Ice-Cream Palace." I must have looked surprised because she added, "I have this big crush on him. I think he's adorable, don't you?"
"Well, yes. He's really cute."
"Here, read them and tell me what you think." She shoved the notebook at me and I quickly scanned a page. It was obvious that Vanessa was crazy over Chris. How could this have happened? I wondered. She didn't even know him!
Am accent -Uou^kt
X ICvUJW At*. /UA
uu^ /fltn/iil Jkwe. Ant /iX fatcJty
"Very nice." I handed her the notebook. What else could I say?
"I wrote eight all together. I just hope he likes them." She snuggled down under the covers.
"You're going to show Chris the poems?" A little warning bell went off in my head. Somehow I knew this wasn't such a great idea.
"Of course not/' she said with a laugh. "I want to be his secret admirer. It wouldn't be much of a secret if he knew who wrote them, would it?"