"Martin, Ann M - BSC070 - Stacey And The Cheerleaders" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

BSC070 - Stacey and the Cheerleaders - Martin, Ann M.

Chapter 1.
"Watch out!"
The shout startled me. Before I could turn around, something hit my shoulder. It threw me off balance. My books went flying, my feet shot out from under me, and I fell.
I, Stacey McGill, was a victim of the winter's first snowball. Or one of the first, anyway.
Until that moment, it had been a great morning. Snow had fallen overnight, even though it was only early December. I had wolfed down my breakfast, put on my new plum-colored corduroy pants and white down jacket for the first time, and taken a nice, slow walk to school with my friend Claudia. The sun was blazing away, and Stoneybrook had never looked so gorgeous.
Now, I adore snow. But right then, sitting in it was not what I'd had in mind.
As Claudia helped me to nay feet, I could
see I'd left two plum-colored streaks in the snow. "Ohhhh, look," I said.
"Hmm, I guess you better wash those pants separately," Claud remarked.
I was too annoyed to laugh. "Thanks," I replied, brushing myself off.
A big shadow loomed behind me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hit you."
I looked up.
And up ... and up.
My attacker must have been at least six feet tall. I was eye level with his jacket, which had a varsity letter sewn to it Ч the letters SMS with a basketball across the middle. (SMS, by the way, stands for Stoneybrook Middle School.)
When I reached his face, my anger melted away. I knew who he was. Everyone in SMS did. RJ Blaser was a star of the SMS basketball team.
I should explain something. This winter our school had been swept up by basketball fever. Our team was number one. Totally undefeated. Even I had started going to the games, and I'm no jock. The Stoneybrook News, which never writes about SMS, had printed a big article about the team.
To be hit by a snowball from behind was no fun. To be hit by RJ Blaser? Well, that was
different. I felt kind of honored, I had noticed RJ around school (who hadn't?), but this was the first time he had ever looked me in the eye.
"That's okay," I squeaked. "It's . . . soft . . ."
He looked confused. "Your shoulder?"
Claudia rolled her eyes. "No, the snow."
"It wasn't hard enough to hurt," I quickly added. "Really."
We stared at each other, smiling and saying nothing. Claudia brushed off the back of my corduroys with sharp, strong swipes.
"Um, my name is RJ," he said.
"I know," I replied without thinking. "I mean, I went to a basketball game last week and they were calling out your name over the loudspeaker a lot."
RJ's face brightened. "Was that the 64-59 over Mercer or the 70-60 over Lawrenceville?"
"The ... uh ... Mercer one, I think."
"Yeah. I scored twenty-seven points and collected five fouls."
Huh? I thought he said fowls, and I couldn't remember any chickens running around the basketball court. But I said, "Wow," because I could tell I was supposed to be impressed.
"So that's why they were calling my name," RJ added. Then he pointed toward the school
and said, "That's Marty Bukowski. You probably heard his name, too. He's the one I was throwing the snowball at."
I looked across the lawn and recognized Marty. He was with Malik Jaffrey and Wayne McConville, two other drop-dead cute basketball stars. With them were four of the most popular girls in the school: Darcy Redmond, Sheila McGregor, Margie Greene, and Penny Weller Ч all cheerleaders.
"I guess you better stick to basketballs, huh?" Claudia piped up.
RJ gave her a blank look. "Say what?"
"You know, instead of snowballs?" Claudia glanced at me warily. She must have thought she was intruding on something, because she started backing away. "Just a joke. Uh, I better get going. I have some questions for my homeroom teacher. See you later."
"That's okay Ч "I began, but Claudia was booking.
As she passed RJ's friends, one of them yelled, "Yo, Blaser. It's cold. We're going in."
"Okay," RJ called back. "Later!"
The group started walking toward school. I was a little disappointed. It would have been cool to meet them.
"It is kind of late," RJ said. "Want to walk with me?"
"Sure," I replied.
As we headed in, I didn't feel the wetness at the back of my corduroys at all. I didn't feel much of anything. I wondered if anyone was actually witnessing my walk with RJ Blaser.
"So, you're . . . ?" RJ was asking me a question.
"I'm fine," I answered.
He flashed a big smile. "No, your name. You didn't tell me."
"Oh!" I must have turned red, because I could feel my ears heating up. "I'm Stacey McGill."
He nodded and looked earnestly at the ground. For a moment neither of us said anything. Then, as RJ held open the front door of the school for me, he asked, "Did you see Mall Warriors II yet Ч you know, the movie?"
I shook my head. "Uh-uh."