by Betsy Haynes
My limousine would be here for me any minute. I wondered if Randy had ever ridden in a car like that. I could offer him a ride home. Of course we'd be alone—behind the tinted windows. I hesitated a moment. I honestly didn't want to hurt Jana now that we weren't total enemies, but wasn't my mother's favorite old saying something about everything's being fair in love and war?
I smiled to myself and headed across the room. "Randy," I called in my sweetest voice. "Can I talk to you a minute?"
"Sure." He was looking straight at me and giving me a fabulous smile.
I hurried toward him, suddenly remembering everything I had ever known about making conversation with cute boys. "I was wondering if you'd like a ride home in my limo?" I asked. At the same time I opened my eyes as wide as I could so that he would notice how blue they were and flipped my long blond hair over my shoulder. "It's such a BIG car for one person. I'd really like it if you came along to keep me company."
"Wow! Do you mean it?" he asked excitedly. "I'd love to ride in a humongous car like that." He was grinning so big that I knew he really meant it, so I wasn't prepared for what he said next.
"I've got an even better idea. You've got so much room, why don't you give EVERYBODY a ride home?"
A cheer went up, and kids started jumping around, laughing and giggling and crowding toward the front door.
"Terrific."
"Thanks, Taffy."
"A limousine! I can't believe it!"
It was pandemonium. Some kids lined up at the phone to call their parents and tell them not to pick them up. Others were shouting their appreciation to me for the chance to ride in a limousine, and a few even shook my hand and acted as if I were their long-lost friend. Only Clarence hung back, looking embarrassed as the chauffeur began opening car doors and letting kids pile in.
I sighed. Boy, some days nothing turned out the way you expected it to, I thought. Jana didn't have my diary. Clarence did. And Randy accepted my invitation to ride home and then invited the rest of the world. Now the entire sixth—whoops!—seventh-grade class thought I was wonderful. I glanced back at Clarence. If this was what making friends was all about, I couldn't just leave him standing there.
"Come on, Clarence," I called. "You can ride, too."
I stuffed myself into the middle row of seats between Marcie Bee and Joel Murphy, listening to the happy murmuring of my friends and thinking that I would probably even break down and confess to my parents that I had gone to the party tonight instead of the audition. I had the feeling that now I could make them understand. In fact, I was feeling so happy and so confident that I knew I would get the TV job. Cynthia Cameron didn't stand a chance.
Suddenly as we pulled away from the curb, someone from the seat behind poked me on the shoulder. "You know what, Taffy?" Clarence boomed, and when I turned around to look at him, he was grinning from ear to ear. "The truth is, you're not such a bad kid after all."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Betsy Haynes, the daughter of a former newswoman, began scribbling poetry and short stories as soon as she learned to write. A serious writing career, however, had to wait until after her marriage and the arrival of her two children. But that early practice must have paid off, for within three months Mrs. Haynes had sold her first story. In addition to a number of magazine short stories and the Taffy Sinclair series, Mrs. Haynes is also the author of Spies on the Devil's Belt and the highly acclaimed Cowslip. She lives in Colleyville, Texas, with her children and husband, a businessman who is the author of a young adult novel.
