Claudia Makes Up Her Mind

by Ann M. Martin

  I touched my ankle to his. Josh tried to tie a knot, but his fingers kept slipping.

  The other three-legged contestants were waiting for us. Already some of the other events had started. Mr. Kingbridge was walking toward us now, looking concerned.

  Quickly I took the scarf from Josh. “I’ll tie it.”

  For a moment, our fingers touched. As I started tying, I glanced up at him.

  That was when I saw it.

  It only lasted a moment. A split second. But I caught him looking at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

  It’s hard to explain. He wasn’t drooling or ogling or anything. Just looking. But I’d never seen his eyes quite that way. If they had been hands, they would have been holding me gently, the way you hold a flower. If they had been a blanket, they would have been covering me to protect against the cold.

  No boy had ever looked at me like that. Ever.

  Not even Mark.

  Then — pffft — the look was gone. Josh glanced away instantly.

  But that was enough.

  I knew. Just like that.

  Jeannie was right.

  Images of Josh flooded into my mind. The awkward conversations. The constant jokes. The smiles. The little gifts. The walks home. My friends’ comments that were really, all along, hints.

  You’re the only one who doesn’t know. Jeannie’s words came back to me.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  My poor, knotted stomach gave one more twist.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Claudia?” Mr. Kingbridge said.

  The contest. We were in a contest.

  “Oh!” I said. “We’re ready.”

  Josh’s left arm and my right were squashed against our sides. Josh looked at my shoulder questioningly.

  I couldn’t help laughing. “It’s not dusty. Go ahead.”

  To reassure him, I put my arm around his shoulder. He did the same to me.

  He smiled. I smiled.

  “On your mark …” Mr. Kingbridge announced.

  We stepped to the line.

  “Get set …”

  We bent our knees together.

  I had a ridiculous thought. I imagined us as boyfriend and girlfriend. Josh and me.

  The thought nearly made me scream with laughter.

  Silly. Totally silly.

  “GO!”

  Josh lifted his leg. My leg tightened in response. I felt off balance. My body slipped downward.

  The blue team had shot ahead of us.

  “Come on!” Josh said, gripping me tighter.

  I don’t know how I stayed upright. But I did.

  “Okay, step!” I grunted.

  We stumbled on the next step. But our third step was clean. And our fourth. We were hitting a rhythm. Lifting our tied-together legs at the same time now. Taking faster steps. Clutching each other’s shoulders for support.

  The white-team couple beside us fell, almost knocking into Josh. We ignored them.

  Now the blue-team partners were starting to crack up. That slowed them down.

  “Step!” Josh yelled.

  We both lengthened our strides. We were practically leaping.

  The blue team was bumbling toward the finish line. Then one of them turned to look at us.

  Big mistake. They hit the floor in a heap.

  With a grunt, Josh and I hurled ourselves over the line.

  “Yyyyyyyessss!” Josh shouted.

  And then we fell.

  We were giggling hysterically. My free leg was tangled with his. Our arms were pinned against the floor.

  I hoisted myself up and swung around, trying to sit up. I kind of fell over Josh.

  We were face-to-face. Josh stopped laughing. So did I.

  Kiss him.

  Where did that thought come from?

  I shut it out.

  Way out.

  “Uh, Claudia?” Josh said softly.

  Oh, boy. This was it. The Moment. Josh pouring out his heart. Right here on the gym floor.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Your elbow is in my kidney. Could you sit up?”

  “Oh! Sorry!”

  I pushed myself off of him. I untied the scarf, and we both stood up.

  The seventh-grade section of the bleachers was screaming at us. Cheering like crazy.

  Josh grabbed my hand and we raised our arms in victory.

  “Let’s clear out for the next teams,” Mr. Kingbridge said to us.

  I gave Josh’s hand a quick squeeze, and we ran off.

  Right into Mark.

  He was standing at the base of the bleachers. “You guys looked good,” he said.

  “Josh did it,” I replied. “He had to pull me along.”

  I looked at Josh. He nodded and smiled tightly. “Yeah. Well. I’ll, uh, see you.”

  “Where are you —”

  But he was gone. Jogging toward the water cooler.

  I was alone with Mark.

  My head was reeling. I was uncomfortable. Nervous. Embarrassed, a little.

  As if Mark had caught me with another guy.

  He had, of course. But the other guy was just Josh. And he was the one who liked me, not vice versa.

  So why was I feeling so weird?

  “How’s the neck?” Mark asked.

  “Fine! Just great!” My voice was too loud. Too cheerful. “Great race, huh?”

  “Yup.” Mark nodded and looked away. “Uh, Claudia? Getting back to what we were talking about …”

  “Now?” I groaned. “Let’s not. I’ll make a decision today or tomorrow.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that. It’s just that — well, remember when I started to tell you something, right before the events?”

  “Yeah …” I lied.

  “Okay, what I was going to say was, you know how we were going to go out after school?”

  “You can’t go.” I meant it as a question, but it came out like a statement.

  “Not today. But maybe tomorrow?”

  I lost it. I wanted to smack him. “That’s the third time, Mark!”

  “Not really. I came over Sunday.”

  “That wasn’t a date date —”

  “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry and all, but my brother? His friend is coming over, and they need to —”

  “It’s fine, Mark,” I interrupted him. “Whatever. Call me later.”

  Or never.

  I didn’t care.

  I stormed away.

  “Christmas shopping,” said Stacey. “That’s what we need to do.”

  Cute. Josh was cute. But was he boyfriend cute?

  “Claudia?”

  Mark was boyfriend cute. Josh was more like stuffed-animal cute.

  “Claudia? Did you hear me?”

  Wake up, Kishi!

  “Sorry,” I said. “I heard you.”

  We were turning the corner into the SMS lobby. Monday’s classes had just ended, and kids were racing all around us. The Color War period had been over hours ago, but I was still thinking about my race with Josh.

  What did it mean? I had no idea. For one thing, I hadn’t talked to Josh the rest of the day. He’d been avoiding me.

  I think he wanted to talk to me after school, when we were at our lockers. But something got in the way.

  Mark.

  He’d been avoiding me too. But since our lockers were so close, we absolutely had to see each other. And what did he do then? Did he try to comfort me? Did he apologize for breaking off our date? No, he just mumbled that excuse about his brother again. He promised to call, and then he took off.

  Josh, who had been at his locker during this time, turned and left.

  Thank goodness I ran into Stacey. It was nice to be around someone I didn’t feel hopelessly confused about.

  “Anyway, we have enough time to go downtown before the BSC meeting —” Stacey was saying.

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted her. “Did you say Christmas shopping? Today?”

  “Sure.”
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  “Stacey, the Thanksgiving decorations just went up!”

  “Yes, but we have to face facts. Only forty-five more shopping days, including weekends. Which may sound like a lot, but think about it. At least thirty of them are school days, plus baby-sitting on weekends, plus parties and family stuff —”

  “Stacey, we don’t have time —”

  “We’ll just window-shop. Check out the sales at Bellair’s.” Stacey sighed. “Look, Claudia, you need this. You’re not yourself. This grade thing is getting to you. You need to unwind. Think about it: You and me, hanging out, looking at clothes —”

  “Eating —”

  “Making up stories about the shoppers —”

  “The fashion victims —”

  Stacey laughed. “Just like the old days!”

  The old days.

  The days before I was sent back. When my personal life was uncomplicated. When I was in the same grade, the same classes, with my very best friend.

  “Claudia?” Mrs. Amer’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  Yikes.

  I turned. Mrs. Amer was standing just to my right, in the guidance office hallway. “May I speak with you a moment?” she asked.

  What now?

  “I’ll wait for you outside the front door,” Stacey whispered.

  I followed Mrs. Amer down the corridor. She stopped outside the office, far away from the crowd in the main hallway.

  “I just wanted to remind you about our meeting with your parents on Friday,” she said softly.

  “Right,” I said. “I know.”

  “Have you been giving the matter much thought?”

  Just about twenty zillion hours, I wanted to say. “Sure,” I replied. “But I haven’t decided.”

  “That’s perfectly all right, for now. But I would like to have this settled by the end of the conference, if not before. For your sake, dear.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  We said good-bye, and I quickly left the school.

  Stacey was out front. “Well?” she asked.

  “Just reminding me,” I grumped. “As if I needed it.”

  We began heading downtown.

  “It must be so hard for you,” Stacey said. “When I put myself in your shoes, I think, ‘Hey? Why switch?’ I mean, with your good grades and your boyfriend and all —”

  “Right. My boyfriend who never wants to go out with me. He postponed again.”

  “Uh-oh. Well, in that case, look at it this way: You could dump him easier if you switched grades.”

  “Stacey, don’t confuse me!”

  “I’m not trying to!”

  “Right. First you say I should stay in seventh grade —”

  “I did not. I only said I could understand how you feel. I would switch. I mean, if it were me. But it’s not, so I’ll shut up.”

  “Stacey, if I do switch, forget about Christmas vacation. Forget about parties and stuff. I’ll be working all the time. I’ll be a hermit until June.”

  “Another reason to do our shopping early.” Stacey laughed. “Look, of course it wouldn’t be easy. But you know we’d all help you after school. We could form, like, a think tank. And we’d be in classes together again, and — and that’s all I have to say. I told myself I would not stress you out.”

  “It’s okay, Stacey,” I assured her.

  “Claudia, we know you can do it. If you want to. But we also know you’ll make the right decision for yourself — and either way, we’re on your side.”

  “You know what my life is like now?” I asked. “Remember last summer, when we tried to build that great sand castle? And just when it was perfect, a wave would knock it down because the tide was coming in? That’s what it’s like. I think I’ve figured things out, I know exactly what to do — then something else happens to me. A conversation, a thought. And everything in my brain just falls apart.”

  Stacey nodded. “You have a lot on your mind. The Color War. Your boyfriend who’s acting like a jerk. Baby-sitting —”

  “Why couldn’t Mrs. Amer just have forced me to switch back to eighth? Then I’d have to do it. I wouldn’t be going through all this.”

  “Claudia, don’t you see? She trusts you to make the decision. She wants you to be happy with it.”

  “But I’m miserable!”

  “Well, I say there’s only one answer.”

  “What?”

  “Shop.”

  I smiled.

  I am so lucky. Stacey understands me. She knows just what to say.

  If only she knew everything.

  If only I could tell her about Josh.

  I desperately wanted to. But the words wouldn’t come out. Somehow it didn’t feel right.

  What if I were wrong about him? I still didn’t know he liked me. He hadn’t told me so.

  And what if I were right? What if Josh did have a huge crush on me? Should I talk about him behind his back, before he had the chance to confess?

  It wouldn’t be fair. I needed to talk to Josh first.

  So I stayed quiet.

  Stacey, by the way, was absolutely right. About the window-shopping, that is. It was just what I needed.

  Well, it wasn’t exactly window-shopping. Stacey bought a half-price, slinky black knit dress with a smocked tank top over a flowing calf-length skirt. I picked up a few headbands and barrettes, a pair of earrings, some candy and cookies, and the coolest orange vest I ever saw.

  We walked home with five heavy shopping bags. We had to stop and rest every block.

  It did feel like the old days.

  Absolutely great.

  We finally reached my bedroom at 5:24. Kristy was already there, scribbling on her clipboard.

  “Uh, thanks, but my birthday was in August,” she remarked.

  “We were Christmas shopping,” Stacey explained. “Sort of.”

  “Now?” Kristy asked. “Who’d you buy for?”

  “Well, ourselves, actually,” I replied.

  Kristy howled with laughter. “Figures!”

  I pulled a bag of Heath Bars out of my pack. “Here’s a riddle. It’s white, swims, has webbed feet, and quacks. It’s a —?”

  “Duck!” Kristy answered.

  I threw the bag at her. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”

  Kristy ducked. The candy landed in an open bag of plaster of paris.

  As the other BSC members arrived, Kristy and I were washing off Heath Bars in the bathroom sink, laughing like hyenas.

  That set the tone for the rest of the BSC meeting. Everyone was feeling crazy. I’m not sure why. Maybe my good mood was rubbing off.

  Between phone calls, we talked about the day’s Color War contests. Abby reenacted her three-legged race with a boy named Alexander (she had dragged him, on his back, over the line). Kristy charmed us with her hog call, which had won the contest hands down. And Jessi tried to teach us the choreography of the routine she was preparing for the upcoming Color War group dance contest.

  We barely had time to finalize our plans for the last day of the BSC Kids’ Color War, which was to be Tuesday.

  The meeting flew by. When it was over and everyone had gone, I flung myself onto my bed.

  Dingdong! chimed the front doorbell.

  Who could that be?

  No one I was expecting. I mean, this was when Mark was supposed to have shown up, but —

  I practically leaped off the bed. “I’ll get it!”

  Maybe his brother hadn’t needed help after all. Maybe Mark had been kidding about canceling. He was surprising me.

  I ran downstairs and pulled open the front door.

  My uncle Russ was standing on the porch, grinning. “Hi, Claudia.”

  “Oh. Uncle Russ.”

  “Don’t sound so happy.”

  Behind him I could see my aunt Peaches walking up the porch steps. She was holding my little cousin, the cutest baby in the world.

  “Lynn!” I screamed, running past Uncle Russ. “Ooh, let me hold you!”


  “We thought we’d stop by and surprise you,” Peaches said.

  “Lynn kept asking about you,” Russ added. “She threatened to run away from home if we didn’t come over right now.”

  I took Lynn from Peaches. She was fast asleep. I gave her about eighteen kisses, then I made sure to kiss Russ and Peaches.

  I love my aunt and uncle. They are so cool that you forget they’re grown-ups. Peaches is my mom’s younger sister, but sometimes it feels as if she’s my older sister. (Yes, Peaches is a nickname. Her real name is Miyoshi.)

  My mom and dad had appeared and were chattering away with Russ. Peaches and I took Lynn into a little room in the back of our house. It used to be a playroom for Janine and me, but now it’s set up with a crib, a rocking chair, and baby stuff.

  I took Lynn’s coat off and laid her gently in the crib. “She’s so big,” I whispered.

  “Ten days is a long time in a baby’s life,” Peaches said, settling herself into the rocker.

  “Was that how long ago I last saw her?”

  Peaches nodded. “I understand a lot has happened in your life since then.”

  I sat on the carpet next to her. “Yeah, it’s a total mess. Mom told you about it?”

  “A little. She told me I shouldn’t pester you, though.”

  “You’re allowed. You and Stacey. She thinks I can handle eighth grade.”

  “Can you?”

  “Maybe. But it’s not so simple. I have friends in seventh grade. And my phantom boyfriend, Mark, who keeps standing me up.”

  “How dare he do that to my niece? He should be thrilled you even look at him!”

  I laughed. “Yeah. Like Josh.”

  Peaches arched an eyebrow wa-a-a-a-ay up. “Oh? There are now two boys in your life?”

  “No! I mean, I don’t know yet. I mean, Josh is a boy. And he’s in my life. But it’s different. I think. I mean, I’m pretty sure he likes me.”

  “Uh-huh. And you? Do you like him?”

  “Peaches, Mark is my boyfriend! Josh is … oh, I don’t know. It’s so complicated!”

  Peaches nodded knowingly. “I know.”

  “You do? Has anything like this ever happened to you?”

  Peaches just smiled. “Claudia, if I ask you something, will you promise to answer honestly?”

  “Sure.”

  “How do you feel? Do you really care about Mark?”

  I thought about it. Hard. It wasn’t such an easy question. “I’m not sure anymore.”

  “Okay, then, put that aside. Separate question: Do you care about Josh?”