“Nada,” Al said over her shoulder. She was hanging out our dining room window, checking to see if our dates were approaching.
“Except for a skinny little bowlegged person down there, looks like he might be yours,” Al said.
My mother would have a cow.
“Get back in here,” I said. I was nervous. We were fourteen floors up. If Al fell out, her mother would most likely sue.
The telephone rang. I got there first. It was Polly. With a bulletin.
“They’re on their way,” Polly said. “They’re not coming empty-handed, either. They’re bringing corsages for you and Al.”
“Oh gross!” I said. “Corsages!”
Al bounced in from the window.
“Corsages?” she said in a hollow voice. “Grandmothers love corsages. They pin ’em on their chests when they go out to dinner on Mother’s Day. I’m not wearing any corsage. If I have to wear a corsage to a the dansant, I’m not going.”
“Al says she’s not going if she has to wear a corsage,” I told Polly.
“What kind of corsage?” Al said, grabbing the phone from me.
Polly told her.
“Well, at least they’re not orchids,” Al said. “I draw the line at orchids.”
“Hang up,” I told her. “In case they’re trying to call to tell us your date fell under a truck and broke his leg and his friend has to help him to the hospital.”
“You think that’s a possibility?” Al said, her face brightening.
The doorbell rang.
Al froze. I skinned into the bathroom and locked the door.
Al pounded on the bathroom door. “It’s only your mother,” she said. “She forgot her key.”
“Is that all?” I said, emerging calm, cool, and collected.
“I’m going to be sick,” Al said.
“No you’re not,” I told her. “It’s all in your mind.”
“I better go to the bathroom,” Al said.
My mother stood there, looking at us. “God forbid they don’t have bathrooms at this tea dance,” she said.
“Do you think this is a rite of passage?” Al asked her.
“I’m afraid so,” my mother said.
The doorbell rang again.
“Ooooh.” Al held her head.
“Pull yourselves together and I’ll go and let them in.” My mother smoothed her hair and arranged her sweetsy smile. “I’ll tell them you’re not quite ready. Then I’ll come to tell you they’ve arrived and give you a quick but comprehensive rundown.”
“Mine’s the midget,” Al told her. “Don’t spare my feelings. Just level with me right off the bat, O.K.?”
My mother went out. We heard her introduce herself, heard them introduce themselves. We both went and sat down on my bed.
My mother glided in, looking pleased with herself.
“How tall is the midget?” Al said.
“They’re both cute as bugs,” my mother said. “Oh, and I’d say they’re both tall. About so high,” and she lifted her hand six inches from the top of her own head. “Perfectly darling, both of them. You ready?”
“No,” we said in unison.
“Listen. Get out there. They’re pretty cute. Lovely manners too. Pull up your socks and get going. Trust me.”
I opened the door and put one foot out. I could feel Al’s hand in the middle of my back, pushing me.
“Here goes,” I said.
About the Author
Constance C. Greene is the author of over twenty highly successful young adult novels, including the ALA Notable Book A Girl Called Al, Al(exandra) the Great, Getting Nowhere, and Beat the Turtle Drum, which is an ALA Notable Book, an IRA-CBC Children’s Choice, and the basis for the Emmy Award–winning after-school special Very Good Friends. Greene lives in Milford, Connecticut.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1989 by Constance C. Greene
Cover design by Connie Gabbert
ISBN: 978-1-5040-0445-9
This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Al’s Blind Date: The Al Series, Book Six Page 11
