by Betsy Haynes
The other members of The Fantastic Foursome were Funny Hawthorne and Tammy Lucero. Funny was always laughing, and some people thought she was a bubblehead, but Jana thought she was nice. They were seventh-grade coeditors on the Wigwam yearbook staff.
Tammy Lucero was a gossip. She talked all the time and told everything she knew. The Fabulous Five suspected that she had started rumors about them a few times, but it was hard to know for sure.
Christie sighed. If she didn't get some time to study, Melissa, Curtis, and Whitney would all do better than she would at the tryouts. She found a table in a corner and spread her books out so people would see that she was busy. Finally, she thought, and opened her social studies book.
Just as she was reading the first sentence, something hit her in the back. She whirled around and saw Clarence Marshall and Joel Murphy standing behind her. Clarence was grinning at her, and his hair hung in his eyes, as usual.
"What are you doing, Christie?" Clarence asked. "Trying to get smarter?"
"She's already the smartest kid in the seventh grade," said Joel.
"Please leave me alone, you two," she said impatiently.
"Whoa! Let's not mess with old Christie," said Clarence. "Her mother's a principal, and she knows Mr. Bell. You mess with her and he'll send you to Teen Court."
"Shhhh!" Mrs. Karl pointed her finger at the boys and then at two empty seats.
Clarence and Joel headed for the chairs, snickering to each other.
"Hi. Can I sit here?" She hadn't heard Jon come up on the other side of her and she jumped.
Christie fought back a frown. "Sure," she mumbled. But inside she was wondering how she'd ever get to study.
Jon sat down and opened a book. A few minutes later he looked over at Christie and poked her in the side. "Are you going to Bumpers after school?" he whispered.
"No. I'm going straight home so I can study," she answered.
"I'll walk you home."
"I'll really be in a hurry and would rather not," she answered.
"Oh." He went back to his reading.
A few minutes later Jon looked up again and asked, "Can I help?"
"No, thanks."
"What if I asked you some questions?" he insisted.
"No, Jon. Please. I need to study by myself." Christie instantly regretted the way she had said it. A hurt look passed over Jon's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Jon," she said softly. "I didn't mean to say it that way, but I do need to study by myself right now."
"No. I'm sorry," he said with a smile. "I didn't realize."
She gave him a smile of appreciation.
"Would Christie Winchell please report to the principal's office." The announcement came over the public address system.
Christie slammed her book shut in frustration. Mr. Bell, the principal, probably wanted her to be a messenger again. He was always asking her to take things to her mother. There was no way she'd be able to get in any more studying before tonight.
Everyone stared at Christie as she walked out the door, and Clarence Marshall and Joel Murphy covered their mouths and pointed their fingers at her.
"Oh, hi, Christie," said Mr. Bell's secretary, Miss Simone, as she approached his office. "Mr. Bell asked if I'd have you paged. He wondered if you would mind taking these papers to your mother." She handed a blue folder to Christie. "I don't know what we'd do without you, dear."
"No problem, Miss Simone," Christie responded. She took the folder and put it on her stack of books.
The last bell of the day was sounding as she hurried out of the office and ran directly into Tim Riggs. Her books spilled all over the floor.
"Hey! Don't you honk when you come into an intersection?" he asked as he knelt to help her pick up her things.
"I thought the light was in my favor," she answered, laughing.
Christie had noticed Tim at the first Super Quiz meeting. He was tall, even for an eighth-grader, and his hair was dark and wavy.
"Are you ready for the tryouts?" he asked, flashing her a big smile.
"No way. Every time I try to study, someone interrupts me or something happens," she responded.
"You won't have any trouble making the team," Tim said as they walked toward the school entrance together.
"I wish I felt that confident," she answered. "I know how smart Curtis is, and Whitney skipped the sixth grade at Copper Beach Elementary. Melissa isn't a dummy, either."
"Look," he said, smiling at her. "I was on the seventh-grade team last year, and all you have to do is relax. The answers will come to you."
"If you say so," she said, laughing. Somehow Tim's easy-going manner made her feel a lot calmer.
They were chattering happily, and he was still carrying Christie's books, as they stepped out of the school doors. Out on the school grounds some kids were drifting toward the street while others stood talking in small groups. Christie let her smile freeze as she spotted Jon standing under the gum tree watching her and Tim walk out of the building. A strange look passed over Jon's face as their eyes met, and then he turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 4
Tim put the blue folder Christie had gotten at the office on top of the books he had just given back to her. "Don't study too hard," he said, flashing his great smile at her. She stood for a moment and watched as he walked away. He was nice—really nice.
A feeling of depression washed over Christie as she walked home by herself. Jon had looked so hurt when he saw Tim and her come out of school. If he had only waited to let her explain why she was with Tim.
But why should she have to explain? she thought angrily. She was her own person. She could talk to anyone she wanted. There was no reason she should ask Jon's permission to talk to another boy anymore than he should ask permission to talk to Kimm Taylor. They weren't really going steady. But still, she had never seen such a sad look in Jon's eyes.
When Christie got home, she grabbed a soda and a snack and was still in the kitchen when her mother came in.
"Hi, sweetheart," her mother said cheerfully. "How was your day?"
"Busy."
"Mine, too. Oh, by the way, did Mr. Bell give you something for me?"
"Miss Simone did. It's with my books."
"Good," said Mrs. Winchell. "It's the new budget forms. Would you believe that we're supposed to have our new budget finished already, and they haven't even given us the forms to do it on until now?"
Christie shook her head. Budgets sounded like one of the dullest things adults had to do.
"When I finish it, you can take it back to Mr. Bell to be passed along with all the others in our district."
Christie gave her mother the folder and went to her room to study. She tried hard, but the words didn't seem to want to stick in her brain the way they usually did. Her mind kept going back to Jon standing under the gum tree.
When she went to bed, Christie lay awake for a long time thinking about herself and Jon. They had been going together for almost two months, and she enjoyed being with him. She still cared for him, but she had so many other things to do—so many other interests that Jon didn't share. She was more concerned with grades and academic things while he loved to make videos. How could she do all those other things that she wanted to do if she spent all her time with Jon? When she finally drifted off to sleep, she was still feeling very confused.
"Did you know that Robin Williams stood on his head when he auditioned for Mork in that old TV show Mork and Mindy?" Beth asked The Fabulous Five as they stood at their favorite spot by the school fence the next morning.
"Why did he do that?" asked Melanie.
"So they'd notice him," responded Beth. "I'm thinking of doing something like that when I try out for the school play."
"Have you thought about going dressed as an Indian?" asked Jana. "It was lucky for you when Brain Damage was in town."
"It was lucky for all of us," said Christie. "I thought I'd die when Trevor Morgan asked us to come up onto the stage during their concert."
"No, I don't think an Indian would work," said Beth. "It has to fit the play. I wish I could just count on my brain like you can, Christie, for the Super Quiz team."
"That's easy for you to say," responded Christie. "But if I make it, it will be because Curtis, Whitney, and Melissa have had their brains freeze-dried."
"I heard that Trumbull has a real brain on their team," Melanie said. "His name is Rodney Cox and he's awfully arrogant. He never misses a question."
"He's one of the Trumbull guys we saw at the mall last week," said Katie. "You remember. They followed us and said those nasty things about Wacko girls being wacko. He was the tall one with curly red hair."
"I know the one you mean," said Jana. "He looked kind of like a nerd."
"That's him, all right," answered Katie.
"Well, they haven't met the Wacko team yet," said Beth. "Christie and the others will wipe him out. Especially since the match is going to be at Wakeman."
"We'll be pulling for you," added Jana. "The walk-through is this afternoon, isn't it? What's Mr. Neal going to do then?"
"He's going to show us how the contests are going to work. How to push the buzzer and all that kind of stuff," answered Christie. "I know you all will be pulling for me. I appreciate it, too."
"Did Jon come over again after school?" asked Beth.
"Well, no . . . I don't think Jon is very happy with me right now."
The others looked surprised.
"Did you have a fight?" asked Melanie.
"No. But Jon asked me if I was going to Bumpers, and I told him that I had to go home and study. He asked if he could walk me home, and I said I'd rather he didn't, I was in a hurry. Then I ran into Tim Riggs when I came out of Mr. Bell's office and dropped my books. You know, really ran into Tim—POW! Anyway, Tim picked them up for me and was still carrying them when we went out the front door."
"Well," said Beth. "What's wrong with that? Tim's cute."
"Jon was standing outside by the gum tree when Tim and I came out," Christie said, making a face.
"Oooh," said Jana. "Not good."
"That sounds like trouble," said Melanie. "What did he say?"
"Nothing. He just turned and walked away."
"That's the worst thing he could have done," said Beth.
"What are you going to do?" asked Jana. The school bell rang at that instant.
"Why should she do anything?" asked Katie as they headed for class. "She hasn't done anything wrong."
"I'll tell you more later," said Christie as they joined the crow d of kids moving into the building.
Christie rushed to her first class and opened her book for a few extra minutes of study.
"Okay, tell us all," Melanie said to Christie as The Fabulous Five put their lunch trays down at their usual table in the cafeteria. "You know how I love soap operas."
"Your whole life is a soap opera," said Katie. Melanie stuck her tongue out at her.
"There's really not much more to tell," said Christie. "I like Jon a lot. Besides you guys, he's my very best friend. We talk about everything."
"You talk about everything?" squealed Beth.
Christie's face turned red. "Well, not everything, silly. But almost everything. I feel as if he's my friend. I'd like to keep it that way, but I don't know how I can and not be romantic."
"You do have a problem," interjected Jana. "Especially since you have been dating. There aren't many boys that want to be best friends with girls and not get romantic and vice versa."
"I agree," said Katie. "If you like a guy well enough to be best friends, it's hard to imagine not dating."
"I didn't say I didn't want to go places with Jon and play tennis with him. I do. I'd just like to do it as friends."
The others looked at each other speculatively.
"Have you talked to Jon about it yet?" asked Jana.
"No, I haven't. I'm not sure how to tell him."
"Would right now be a good time to talk to him?" asked Beth.
"Why?" asked Christie, puzzled.
"Because there he is," said Beth, pointing.
Christie turned and saw him. He was carrying his tray to the return window. She gulped and then took a deep breath.
"Well . . . I guess I'd better do it," she said as she got up to follow him. "Wish me luck."
CHAPTER 5
"Jon!" Christie called as she followed him out of the cafeteria. He spun around at the sound of her voice and stopped to wait for her.
Christie rushed to catch up with him. "Can we go outside and talk?"
He looked questioningly at her. "Sure."
When they reached the fence at the edge of the school grounds, Christie struggled to find the right words. "Jon, when you saw me with Tim yesterday, we were just talking. I accidentally bumped into him coming out of Mr. Bell's office and dropped my books. He picked them up and carried them to the door. That's all that happened. Really." She was suddenly frustrated with herself for being apologetic, but she couldn't stand to have Jon angry at her. Why were her emotions so mixed up? She wanted to tell him that she needed more space, but she didn't want him to be angry or hurt. How could she do both?
She hurried on while she still had the courage. "But I need to talk to you about something else." She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. "You know I like you a lot, don't you?"
This time Jon smiled. "I guess I do."
"Well, I do. That's all there is to it. You should never doubt that." She put her arm through his. "Besides The Fabulous Five, you're my very best friend, and I want it to stay that way."
Christie took a deep breath and plunged on. "There's something I'd like to ask you, though. It's something I've been thinking about for a while."
"What's that?"
"This has nothing to do with any other boys. I don't like any other boy as well as you," she said quickly. "But I'd like for us to try being best friends for a while. Not boyfriend and girlfriend like we've been, but best friends."
As Jon turned to stare at her, Christie could tell he was hurt. She rushed to finish before she changed her mind.
"I feel like I need space right now. And it has nothing to do with not liking you as much as ever. I just don't think I'm ready to go steady, and that's kind of what we've been doing. Oh, darn! I'm not saying it right." Christie bit her lower lip and frowned.
"I don't know how to say it so you'll understand." Tears came to her eyes. "I really don't want to hurt you."
As Christie turned away, she felt Jon's hand on her shoulder. He turned her around. "I thought we were good friends already," he said. "Maybe I was wrong."
"No, you weren't wrong about that. I just think we ought to date other people."
"Being best friends can't be all that bad," Jon said gently. "What do you want to do? I'm not sure I know how to be best friends with a girl."
Christie brushed away her tears. "We can do most of the things we've always done together."
"Okay," he said, raising his head high. "I'm not sure I totally understand, but I guess we can give it the old Wacko Junior High try." He looked at his watch. "I guess we'd better get to class."
"Oh, gosh! You're right," she said. "I've got to hurry. Everything is okay between us, isn't it? I'll see you later?"
"Sure," he answered. "I'll probably be in the auditorium before you're through with your walkthrough meeting. I'm going to start taking videos of The Dreadful Alternatives."
Christie gave him the brightest smile she could manage, then hurried away to class.
By the time Christie got to the auditorium after school she was panting. Everyone else was already standing up on the stage with Mr. Neal. She rushed up the stairs and threw down her books just as Mr. Neal picked up his blue folder to take attendance.
Christie looked around at the other team members as he called their names. From the ninth grade there were Kyle Zimmerman, who was on the Teen Court with Katie, Pam Wolthoff, Holly Davis, and Andy Trudeau. Tim Riggs was standing with Brad Cochran, who was
also an eighth-grader. Two other eighth-graders, Daphne Alexandrou, and Jenni Linn were talking near them. Curtis and Whitney were holding hands, and Melissa was sitting down, thumbing through a notebook. Talk about last-minute cramming, Christie thought.
"Okay, everybody, listen up," said Mr. Neal. He put down his folder and dodged a custodian who was sweeping the stage.
"This afternoon," he continued, "we're going to walk through all the steps that will be taken in the Super Quiz match so you will know what to expect tomorrow morning at tryouts, and you can concentrate on answering the questions and not wondering what to do next. We're lucky. The match with Trumbull will be here at Wakeman, and you'll have the home crowd behind you.
"First, I want you to take seats at the two long tables set up here on stage. At the match, each table will have two ninth-graders on the right, two eighth-graders in the middle, and two seventh-graders on the left. Today you can pretend that one team is Wakeman and the other is Trumbull."
"We're Wakeman, they're Trumbull," yelled Kyle and Andy as they raced to get seats behind one of the tables.
"No way!" yelled Tim as he ran to the other table.
"Okay! Okay!" shouted Mr. Neal. "Neither side really has to be Trumbull. You'll just be two different teams."
Next, Mr. Neal explained that the ninth-graders would be asked the questions in each category first. As soon as one of them knew the answer, he or she was supposed to slap the large button on the table at that position. The light on the podium would flash, and the buzzer would sound. Whoever hit the button first would get a chance to answer the question. If it was answered correctly, that team got one point. If the answer was wrong, the other team had a chance to answer the question on the rebound, and if they got it right, they got two points. Then the eighth-graders would do the same thing, followed by the seventh-graders.
As Mr. Neal was talking, Christie watched the musicians from The Dreadful Alternatives carrying their instruments onto the stage. There were two boys with guitars, a boy drummer, and a girl with a synthesizer. If the girl was Kimm Taylor, Christie thought, she's not that cute.
