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

Chapter 3.
On Friday I made myself three promises.
1. I would not mention my date to anyone at school or at the BSC meeting.
2. If I were asked about it, I would change the subject quickly.
3. If and when I saw RJ, I would remain cool and calm.
How did I do? A big, fat 0 for 3.
I blabbered about how excited I was to Sheila McGregor in homeroom. When Mary Anne asked me how I was feeling, I shrieked in the hallway. Then RJ decided to sit at our table during lunch, and I could hardly put a sentence together. It didn't help that I was eating a sandwich on a poppy-seed roll, so I looked as if I had gaps between my teeth. (Kristy made sure to let me know about it Ч afterward, of course.)
By the end of school I was a wreck. I almost forgot to go to the BSC meeting. I showed up
at 5:37 and guess what they were talking about?
My date. We ended up discussing the time RJ was picking me up (six-thirty), our destination (downtown), our "agenda" (a movie and then a bite to eat), and what I was going to wear (a black-and-white plaid unitard with a tankstyle top, covered with a black, oversized cotton knit jersey).
What else did we do at the meeting? Don't ask me. My mind was in the ozone layer. I think I agreed to take a sitting job, but I'm not sure. All I know was that at six on the nose, I was out like a shot.
Because of my diabetes, I have to eat meals at regular times. Since RJ and I were going straight to the movie, that meant I needed to have dinner beforehand. I arrived home at 6:06, so I had exactly twenty-four minutes in which to eat and get ready.
I was glad I'd decided what to wear in advance. I ran straight to my room, changed, and put on a little makeup. Mom and I wolfed down some salad and leftover lasagna.
As I was drinking a glass of juice, the doorbell rang.
I coughed. Some juice had caught in my throat.
"Take it easy, sweetheart," Mom said with a smile.
"I'm Ч " Cough. "I'm Ч " Cough. "I'm all right." I swallowed and took a deep breath. "I'll get it."
Calmly I stood up from the table. Mom was giving me a very patient smile. I went to the front door and opened it Ч not too eager, but friendly. "Hi, RJ!" I said.
Hie.
I tried to swallow the hiccup, but I couldn't. It just snuck up my windpipe. I was horrified. I wanted to melt into the carpet.
"Can you stand on your head?" RJ asked.
"Huh?" Great. I was hiccuping like a frog, and RJ wanted to do gymnastics in the living room. "Uh, yeah, but . . ."
Hie.
"It's how you get rid of hiccups," RJ said.
"Here, drink this." Mom, the voice of reason, walked up behind me with a glass of water. I swallowed it slowly.
RJ shook his head. "Nah, standing on your head is definitely better."
I managed a smile. "It's okay. Really. They're gone."
Have you ever actually forced down a hiccup? I did. It wasn't fun. It felt as if a tiny bomb had gone off in my stomach. But I was not going to be talked into doing headstands on a first date in a beautiful new outfit.
Mom cheerfully waved good-bye as RJ and
I slid into the car. Mr. Blaser was driving. He was a bigger version of RJ Ч tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome.
How was the ride? Well, we started by talking about the cold winter weather. That was okay. But it led to a very long discussion about the right kind of antifreeze for the Blasers' car. RJ and his father both had strong opinions. Me? I understood a little bit of it, mainly words like and, the, and bottle. I nodded a lot.
Fortunately, we reached the theatre before the conversation became too unbearable. We went straight to the box office, bought tickets, and stood on the popcorn line.
"Hey, great, they have caramel corn!" RJ exclaimed.
"Um, I'll have regular," I said.
"Your choice. I'll get one of each. I guess you're on a diet, huh?" He said "diet" in a mocking tone of voice.
"Yeah, I am, sort of," I replied.
RJ smiled and rolled his eyes. "Girls." He sighed. "Diet soda, too?"
"Thanks," I said.
Okay, okay, I chickened out. I admit it. I didn't want to tell RJ about my diabetes. Some people get grossed out by the mention of it. Why spoil the date so early? I'd mention it when we got to know each other better.
The theatre was busy, and we had to ma-
neuver our way through a crowd to get to the door.
I saw a few familiar faces. Sabrina Bouvier and her date were talking to some friends by a water fountain. Erica Blumberg, Cokie Mason, and a bunch of their friends were in line for the restroom.
You know what? They all, all stared at me.
You know what else? It felt wonderful. I slipped my arm into RJ's, and he gave me a huge grin.
The theater was noisy and crowded as we walked in, but in the last few rows were plenty of empty seats. "Want to sit back here?" I asked.
"It's kind of far away," RJ said. "There are seats up front."
There were Ч in the first two rows. "Those are too close," I replied.
"Okay, no problem."
RJ marched to the center of the theater. One row was not quite full, with two single seats separated by three couples. "Yo," RJ called out, "can you guys move over so we can sit together?"
I couldn't believe he was doing this. All six people had to get up and move, muttering and fumbling with their winter clothes. I felt awfully guilty.