Taffy Sinclair 009 - The Truth About Taffy Sinclair

by Betsy Haynes

  Then I saw something. Something at the bottom of the pile. My heart skipped a beat. It wasn't my diary. It wasn't even blue. What I had found was a dirty magazine.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "Back to your seats, please," Miss Wiggins commanded as three kids from the last row of desks lingered over the table, poking through the odds and ends from the lockers. "You'll have other chances to look the things over during both recesses and lunch period."

  Sinking a little lower in my seat, I tried to concentrate as she started the math lesson, but my mind was still on my diary. Since no one had given it to me or put it on the table with the other leftovers, that could only mean one thing. It was pretty obvious that whoever had it realized what they had found. They knew it was a diary, and what was worse, they undoubtedly knew that it was mine. Who could possibly care what any of the other girls in this class would write in a diary? They were all too immature to have anything interesting going on in their lives as I do. Not one of them had ever been on television. And even though Jana and her snobby friends had been in the same modeling class with me, not one of them could ever get a job as a model. That was why the person—or people—who found my diary were keeping it. They were planning to break it open and read it and try to find out all my secrets. Of course, I had written other things, too.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Jana Morgan. She was following the math lesson in her book. I cringed as I imagined her reading all the things I had written about her and the other members of The Fabulous Five. In my mind I could see them holding a meeting of their club in Jana's bedroom and huddling together to read my diary. Or maybe they would pass it around and take turns reading it out loud.

  Dear Diary:

  Jana Morgan is my worst enemy in the world. What I can't understand is why she is so popular. She isn't pretty at all! She has a rotten personality. And she's never done anything special such as being on TV the way I have. She probably bribes people to be her friends!

  Dear Diary:

  Today Beth Barry looked like a clown. She's always acting dramatic and theatrical and trying to show off by wearing loud clothes, but today was the worst. She had on a fuchsia outfit that made me want to throw up!

  She thinks she's going to be a great actress some day, but I'm the one who has already had an acting role on TV. Ha!!

  Dear Diary:

  Christie Winchell is so boring that she wouldn't have any friends if her mother weren't principal of the school and people didn't want to butter her up. I mean, let's face it. She's such a math genius that all she thinks about are numbers and equations. How much fun is it to be friends with a computer?

  Dear Diary:

  Today I saw Christie Winchell flirting with Mr. Scott, the assistant principal. She thinks nobody notices that she has a humongous crush on him, but everybody does. She's so obvious about it that I'll bet even Mr. Scott notices and is laughing at her behind her back.

  Dear Diary:

  Katie Shannon acts so disgusting. She is always saying that being pretty isn't important and that she can't stand boys. How could anyone be so dumb!?!

  Dear Diary:

  Melanie Edwards should go on a diet! She has started to lose weight and looks a lot better than she did when she stuffed herself with brownies all the time, but she still has a long way to go.

  In my imagination I could see all of their faces turn purple with rage as they read what I had said about them.

  "Who does she think she is to write stuff like that?" Beth would probably yell, and everybody else would nod, except for Christie, who would curl up in a corner of Jana's bedroom wondering how she would ever face Mr. Scott again and wishing that she were dead.

  Well, the truth hurts! I thought contemptuously. I was remembering all the times those five had done mean things to me. There was the time in fifth grade when I got a card in the mail that said "You must have been a beautiful baby, but baby, look at you now" on the front, and had a picture of King Kong on the inside. Nobody had signed it, but I knew it was from them.

  But then I remembered the dirty magazine left on the table. Wasn't that what Christie had said they were looking at when I thought they were giggling over my diary? What if they didn't have it, after all? Then, who did?

  Randy? I thought with a panic. Could Randy Kirwan possibly have it? Of course, he was too polite to break it open and read what I had written about him. But what if he forgot to put it on the table with the other things people couldn't identify? And what if he remembered it after he got home? And he had it with him? And he broke it open? Just so he could find out whom it belonged to, of course. And what if he read what I had written about him? On practically every page.

  Dear Diary:

  I am so much in love with Randy Kirwan that I can hardly stand it.

  Today I . . .

  "Taffy Sinclair!"

  Miss Wiggins's voice cut through my nightmare. "I know that this is the last week of school and that everybody is having a hard time keeping his mind on the work. But would it be too much trouble to ask you to join our social studies lesson this morning?"

  I blinked. Social studies lesson? What had happened to math? I locked my jaws to keep my mouth from quivering and tried to smile at her. I would die if anyone guessed how embarrassed I was.

  "Sorry, Miss Wiggins," I mumbled as I shoved my math book into my desk and pulled out my social studies book.

  Just then I heard Jana Morgan clear her throat. I stiffened like a poker and listened. I knew what was coming next, and I was right. An instant later Melanie Edwards cleared her throat. Then one by one, Beth Barry, Christie Winchell, and Katie Shannon all cleared their throats, too.

  It was a signal. It had to be. It meant that they knew how embarrassed I was, and they were glad. Not only that, they were out to get me. I had to get that diary back if it was the last thing I ever did.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  At morning recess everybody was talking about the big locker disaster. Everybody, that is, except Jana and her friends. As usual, they were standing by the fence acting as if they were too good to associate with anyone else.

  "Can you believe the nerve of those three boys?" Lisa Snow was saying to a group of girls as I walked up. "Sneaking back into the school like that and messing up the lockers."

  "I ought to make them pay for my Billy Joel poster," complained Kim Baxter.

  "Didn't you get it back?" asked Sara Sawyer.

  "Yes, but one corner was torn off!"

  "Did everybody get all their things back?" I asked as casually as I could.

  "Sure," said Lisa. "Is something of yours still missing?"

  I didn't answer for a moment. I knew that any of them might have my diary. Just because they acted friendly sometimes didn't mean that they wouldn't love to get their hands on it if they could. "I'm not sure," I said, deciding not to take any chances. "I can't remember if I left something in my locker last night or if I took it home."

  A couple of girls shrugged, but no one mentioned finding anything that might be mine. Then Sara started talking about Curtis Trowbridge's party.

  "I wonder what a party at Curtis's house will be like, anyway?"

  Kim made a face. "He's such a nerd. You don't suppose we'll have to work crossword puzzles or play games on his computer, do you?"

  Everybody laughed at that.

  "I guess we'll find out Friday night," said Lisa. "Everybody is going."

  I took a deep breath to keep my heart from pounding. No one had said anything about boys, but if everyone was going, that had to mean them, including Randy Kirwan. I was trying to think of a way to bring up Randy's name without being too obvious when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  "Hi, Taffy. Are you going to Curtis's party?"

  "Oh, hi, Mona," I said. I knew she would be able to hear the disappointment in my voice, but I couldn't help it. Mona Vaughn was nice and everything, but she was really the pits when it came to looks, even now that Jana and her friends had given her a new hairstyle. She still
didn't know how to dress or walk across the room like a model or any of the important things. Even her hair didn't look that great. To make matters worse, she followed me around most of the time. It was embarrassing to be seen with someone who always looked like a walking disaster. Anyone who didn't know better would think that we were close friends.

  "Taffy, I asked if you're going to Curtis's party," Mona said, interrupting my thoughts. "I hope so, because I am."

  "I don't know yet," I answered. "I may have to audition for a television commercial Friday night." Then seeing the opportunity I had been looking for, I added, "Besides, Curtis will probably be the only boy there."

  "Oh, no, he won't," Lisa said eagerly. "All the guys are going. Keith Masterson and Scott Daly and Randy Kirwan and . . ."

  She was still naming off boys, but the instant she said Randy's name, I tuned her out. I didn't need to hear any more. If Randy would be at Curtis's party, then so would I! No matter how many auditions my mother might have set up. I would get a new outfit. Maybe a new hairstyle. All I had to do was convince my mother that I needed all that for a photo session or an audition or something. She would go along with anything if she thought it would help me get into show business. Still, I had to get busy and make plans. There were only three days left until the party—and my last chance to make the right impression on Randy before school started again in the fall. Handsome Randy. Wonderful Randy. The boy of my dreams.

  I stood in the hot-lunch line at noon and watched Jana and her friends out of the corner of my eye. They always brought their lunches, so they went right to their table instead of standing in line. They always sat at the same table, too. One in the corner where they could watch everybody else and talk about them. Today they were talking about me. Me and my diary. I could tell by the way they stopped giggling every so often and looked in my direction. Then they would put their heads together and start giggling again.

  I couldn't believe how slowly the lunch line was moving. I tried to ignore them, even though my ears were burning, and concentrate on the choices at the steam tables ahead of me. Meat loaf. Yuk. Fish sticks. Gross. The only thing that looked good was the chocolate pudding.

  I paid for the dish of chocolate pudding and a carton of milk and looked around for someplace to sit. Jana and her friends were still at their table. I certainly didn't want to sit with them. Sometimes I sat with Alexis Duvall and her friends, but today her table was full. Lisa and Sara and Kim and Marcie and even Mona were sitting there. I would have squeezed in at their table if only one of them had looked up and smiled at me or waved me over, but no one did. I sighed and pretended not to notice them either. They were just like all the other girls in Mark Twain Elementary, jealous of my looks and my new career in modeling and television.

  I stood there holding my tray and feeling like an idiot for absolutely ages before I spotted an empty table by the door. It was beside the garbage can, and sometimes when kids threw away lunch bags or apple cores and their aim was bad, the stuff landed on that table. That's why it was empty. I didn't care. There was nothing on it today, and I could sit with my back to the rest of the cafeteria.

  Jana and her friends can talk about me all they want to, I thought as I nibbled at my chocolate pudding. I'll show them a thing or two at Curtis Trowbridge's party Friday night. I'll be so gorgeous that Randy Kirwan won't be able to take his eyes off me. And I'll talk to him, somewhere in a dark corner where we can be alone, and I'll be so sweet and so nice that—

  "Hey, Taffy."

  The voice interrupted my dream just as I was getting to the best part. I glared at Beth Barry, who was standing beside my table, smiling and looking innocent. Her other friends were there, too, pitching their lunch garbage into the trash.

  "What do you want?" I muttered.

  "I just wondered if you got your dirty magazine back," she said, and then snickered. "Since it didn't have your name on it, we put it on the table with all the other leftovers, and when I looked for it at recess, it was gone."

  "That was not mine, and you know it," I said. I could feel my anger rising toward the danger point. How dare she say a thing such as that? Besides, Beth knew as well as I did that Miss Wiggins would never leave a magazine such as that on a table in her classroom.

  "But you said that you lost something important," insisted Jana.

  Jumping to my feet, I glared straight at her. "You know very well that it was my diary and not—" I stopped cold, slapping my hand over my mouth the instant I realized what I had said. I hadn't meant to say a thing such as that. How could I have slipped? How could I have let them trick me?

  Melanie gasped. "Your DIARY!" she shrieked so loudly that kids all over the cafeteria were stopping what they were doing and looking at us.

  "I was just kidding," I said quickly. Then I shrugged and tried to act casual, as if I couldn't care less about what they thought.

  "Sure you were," said Katie, and she exchanged knowing looks with Christie. "Of course, you really lost it," she went on as if that were the only thing that made sense, "and you're scared to death that whoever has it will read it."

  "Yeah," Beth added, grinning deliciously at me over her shoulder as she and the others headed for the door. "And tell the whole world the truth about Taffy Sinclair."

  I stood there watching them leave the cafeteria. The chocolate pudding was swirling around nauseously in my stomach. Little did they know, I thought, just how true those words were. I had written everything in my diary. I had told it all my secrets as if I were talking to my best friend. My thoughts. My feelings about everybody, including Randy Kirwan. Not only that, I had written all about my troubles with Jana Morgan and The Fabulous Five.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Word that my diary was missing spread like wildfire. On the playground after lunch kids were looking at me and some were even pointing and giggling. Jana and her friends were the worst. They didn't even wait to go out by the fence to gather into a huddle and start whispering. I knew what they were whispering about. Me and my lost diary. I also knew that they had it. Otherwise, why did they make such a big deal of mentioning that they had found a dirty magazine? I was sure that they had really found that magazine, too, and were using it to cover up the fact that they had my private, personal property.

  I whirled around and hurried back inside the building, walking fast so that they would think I had important business. I hoped they would think I was going to the office to tell on them. But as soon as I got around the corner and out of sight of the front door, I crumpled against the wall and closed my eyes. I had to find a way to get my diary back before they read it and decided to get even with me for what I had written.

  Suddenly I was flooded with memories.

  Dear Diary:

  Today was the most wonderful day of my life. Today I caught Jana Morgan doing something that could get her into a lot of trouble.

  Miss Wiggins told our class that her wallet was missing. After school I walked into the girls' bathroom and there was Jana—hiding the wallet. I thought about telling on her. She would get into so much trouble, and it would serve her right! It would pay her back for all the mean things she has done to me.

  But then I got a better idea. In fact it's the greatest idea I've ever had. Tm going to blackmail her!!!

  I cringed when I remembered that entry in my diary and realized all the trouble I could get into. I had blackmailed Jana. Just the way I had said I would, but things had worked out very differently than I had expected.

  Dear Diary:

  At first blackmailing Jana was a lot of fun. I made her do my math homework every day. She hated that, and all I could do was laugh.

  But then Alexis noticed us talking together a lot and asked me if Jana and I had started to be friends. She said she thought it was super since we had been enemies for so long.

  I hadn't really thought about people's thinking we were friends. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. I can't explain why. I just did. That's when I started bl
ackmailing her even more. I made her carry my lunch tray and walk around the playground with me.

  Other kids noticed us together, too, including Randy Kirwan. He was horsing around on the playground when we walked by, but he stopped and watched us. I had been dying to know exactly what he was thinking.

  I sighed. It wouldn't make any difference if anyone thought Jana and I were friends—not if Jana showed that part of my diary to Miss Wiggins or to Mrs. Winchell, the school principal. After all, Jana hadn't stolen the wallet. She had found it. And blackmailing is a crime. They might call the police, and I might get sent to jail or to reform school.

  As I stood there, I heard the front door open and then footsteps heading up the hall in my direction. What if it was Jana? What if she had followed me into the school to tell me that she had my diary and that she had already opened it and read it—especially the part about being blackmailed? What if she was on her way to show it to Mrs. Winchell at this very instant?

  Panic. I looked around. What could I say I was doing in the deserted school during lunch period? Where could I hide? There wasn't time to run down the hall and duck into the girls' bathroom. Besides, Jana would know I was running away from her if I did that.

  I took a deep breath. I wouldn't give Jana Morgan the satisfaction of thinking that she was getting to me, even though she definitely was. Slowly I opened my shoulder bag and began rummaging around in it, trying to give the impression that I was doing something very important. I would have to distract her, get her mind off the diary, I thought as I listened to the steps coming closer.