by Rachel Wise
We only had a little more time left on the masks so it did seem like a shame after having that stuff on for twenty minutes to wash it off with only a few minutes more to go. But Hailey is a good friend and she understands how much I rely on my notebook for everything.
“Et’s awsh ih ah,” she said generously.
After we were all clean, Hailey got her dad and some flashlights, and the three of us went back to the soccer field where I had wiped out and my bag had opened. We looked all around there and then expanded our search to the bleachers and everything, and it was just plain gone.
I probably would have kept looking all night, as if the looking would magically make it appear, but I felt bad for Hailey and her dad, so I told them it was okay and that we could leave.
“I’m sorry, Sammy,” said Hailey when we got back to the car.
I shrugged hopelessly. Everything was in there. My story ideas, quotes from the PTA meeting, to-do lists, homework assignments, everything. I was pretty devastated. The only silver lining was that I didn’t have anything incriminating about my crush on Michael or my Know-It-All column. Thank goodness! As much as writing is my life, it’s always important to know what you shouldn’t put in writing.
Hailey suggested we go on her page on Buddybook and post a notice that I had lost my notebook at school and if anyone finds it, to please return it to us. I thought that was really nice of her.
Once she was logged in and had her page up, I sat beside her while she typed the notice.
“Want to go look at some pages while we’re on here?” she asked, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, what the heck. Sure.” I didn’t want to be a total stick in the mud, especially when Hailey was being so nice.
“Hmmm . . . How about Jeff Perry’s? He usually has some hilarious photo up there,” offered Hailey.
But Jeff didn’t have much up. I think he’d been properly scolded by Trigger and it would take a while before he’d post anything mean again.
We looked at some girls’ pages—leaving notes for the girls we were friends with and laughing at the pages of girls we don’t like.
It was actually really fun.
“Thanks, Hailey,” I said, feeling a warm glow of friendship love. “You’re the best friend ever.”
“I try,” said Hailey, fluffing her hair in a kind of joking, modest way.
There was one page we hadn’t visited, and I was still so sick of him that I didn’t want to ask to go there. But I wouldn’t say no if Hailey offered. Which, of course, being the good friend that she is, she did.
“Want to see Michael Lawrence’s page?” she asked, giggling.
I shrugged. “Eh . . . whatever. I’m so over him right now.”
“Really,” said Hailey in more of a statement than a question.
“He’s just been a bit of a pain lately,” I said. But I was still glued to his page when Hailey navigated to it. I couldn’t help it. The boy was cute.
“Do you still like him?” Hailey asked. She was peering closely at his photo but her voice was kind of weird.
“Yeah! Duh!”
She looked at me and smiled, but it was kind of a sad smile, like she understood that you could be into someone in general but also not be into him right at that very moment.
“Wait, can I just slide over here and get a little closer look?” I asked, nudging Hailey off her desk chair.
“You know what? Sit here and I’ll go downstairs and get some more snacks. Okay?”
“Okay, best friend. Thanks,” I said, and she left.
I looked at his cute picture on his home page and noted his status—single! I wanted to click on his wall but Hailey has a tracking pad, which I’m not used to, so my finger kind of slipped and I wound up clicking on a document on her desktop.
“Ack! Cancel, cancel!” I tried to stop the computer from opening Word, but I was stuck in the process. It was too late. I sighed and sat back, waiting until it was completely open so I could close it and quit the application. Only what appeared before me made my mouth drop open and my heart stop beating.
It couldn’t be!
Chapter 11
GIRL LEAVES BEST FRIEND’S HOUSE—FOREVER!
There it was, right in front of me. At first, I wondered how Hailey had gotten a copy of it.
I was that confused.
Then I realized the truth.
Hey Mr. Know-It-All,
What do you do when you and your best friend have a crush on the same person?
Signed,
Unlucky Taste
Hailey was Unlucky Taste.
I sat there dumbstruck for a second. I think my jaw even dropped. But then I heard Hailey saying something to her dad and I knew she must be at the foot of the stairs. I scrambled to close the document and quit the application. Why are computers so slow?!
“Close, close, close! Hurry!” I whispered hard at the computer. I even blew on it, as if that would help. Computer Hacker Caught in the Act.
Just as I heard Hailey’s footsteps at the top of the stairs, the application closed, and I was able to click back onto Michael’s Buddybook page. I adjusted my features. All I felt was shock, but I couldn’t let Hailey see it on my face. Especially because I hadn’t begun to process all that her letter meant.
“Here we go!” Hailey sang, coming into the room with a plate of cookies and two milks.
“The cookies are made with spelt flour, sweetened with agave nectar. They have dried cherries and pistachios in them. And here”—she offered me my glass of milk—“skim and organic, baby, with extra vitamin D!”
I was glad for the distraction. I selected a cookie and took a careful nibble. It wasn’t bad. Then I took a swig of milk and carefully eyed Hailey over the rim of the glass, my face hidden from sight by all that milk.
Hailey had no idea what I now knew. And I couldn’t imagine how I was going to get through the rest of the night pretending like nothing had happened.
“Oh, hey! I have a new message! Oh look! It’s from Michael!” Hailey’s face was glowing and her smile beaming so wide it practically touched both of her ears. How could I not have noticed before that she loved him? Am I a total idiot?
Then I had a sickening thought: What if he liked her back?!
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Bad enough to have your best friend betray you by falling in love with your lifelong crush, but to have the crush like her back?! Oh my goodness! My face burned hot but my body felt cold. I was in a full panic.
“Let’s see . . . What does he say . . .” Hailey was clicking around Buddybook happily. No wonder she was all up-to-date on that cute photo Jeff had posted of Michael at football practice. I was surprised it wasn’t her screensaver!
“Yay! Sammy, he has your notebook! He says, ‘Tell Pasty I found her notebook. If she gives me a call, we can arrange a drop-off,’ and then it has his phone number. Hey! We should call him!” Hailey turned to me with a look of excitement on her face. “Want to?” she added.
Now I was starting to understand. I was kind of the pawn in her crush. She could use me as the buffer or the go-between, as an excuse to check in on Michael and talk to him and everything. Like she’s reporting back to me, but it’s really for her.
“No,” I said in as flat of a voice as I could manage.
“What?” Hailey looked surprised. I think she’d been assuming I’d say yes.
I felt a mean prick of pleasure at having burst her bubble. Ha! Take that! I’m not going to be your excuse to call your lover boy. No way.
“Why?” she asked again, kind of forlorn.
I shrugged, relishing my power. “I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep. I’ll deal with it in the morning. Anyway, he’ll probably have read through the whole thing and he’ll have something mean to say about my reporting skills and my to-do lists. It’s all just . . . embarrassing. Why did it have to be him who found it?”
Hailey was reluctant to give up. “All right. If you say so . . .”<
br />
“I say so. Plus, he’d just tease me and call me Listy or Trippy or Pasty or one of those annoying nicknames.”
Hailey bit her lip and was quiet for a minute. “At least you have nicknames from him.”
That made me mad. “What? You’d like your lifelong crush to call you insulting names based on your personality flaws or mistakes you made when you were five? That’s fun,” I said bitterly.
Hailey shrugged. “Okay, maybe not those names . . .”
“Yeah . . .” I said, nodding hard, “definitely not those names.”
I kind of hated Hailey right then. I almost wanted to tell her flat out that I knew she loved Michael too and that she couldn’t have him. But then I’d have to leave, and since it was eleven o’clock, that would not be easy to pull off.
“I think we should just go to sleep,” I said.
Hailey raised her eyebrows. “O-kayyy . . .” she said. Eleven was early for us on a sleepover.
“I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” I shrugged and rummaged in my overnight bag for my toothbrush. Inside, I was furious.
Hailey was bummed. This night hadn’t turned out so well, but it was kind of her fault, even though she didn’t know it. Whatever. It might be the last sleepover we ever have, anyway.
“Fine,” said Hailey.
We were asleep ten minutes later. Or at least, she was. I hardly slept a wink all night.
The next morning I just wanted to get out of there. I called my mom first thing and she said she’d be over to pick me up at nine. I figured I should pick up my notebook on the way home, so I asked Hailey for Michael’s number from the Buddybook page and she was all too eager to get it for me. She offered to dial and ask for him, but I had to silence her with a glare and do it myself. Now that I knew for a fact that she liked him, all of her actions took on a new significance and she was getting more annoying by the minute.
I was nervous to call him but my eagerness to get my notebook back as well as my aggravation with the two of them empowered me. I punched in the numbers and prepared myself to get an answering machine.
“Hello?”
Oh. I hadn’t had a moment to compose myself and Michael was already on the phone.
“Hi, Michael. It’s Sam.”
“Hey, Pasty. Calling about your notebook?”
I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. “Yup.”
“You must be lost without it. I was flipping through it and that’s . . . that’s a lot of information you’ve got in there.”
Great. He was flipping through it. “Yup,” I said, wondering how much he had read. “So where should I meet you to get it back?”
“Oh. Well, I’m at home now for a little while before my game. You could come here, or I could drop it by later . . .”
“I’ll come by,” I said. “My mom is picking me up from Hailey’s house in a few minutes, so we could be over soon.”
“Great! Okay! So I’ll see you soon!” He sounded pretty chipper.
“Okay. Bye.” I hung up.
There was a thick silence in the kitchen and I didn’t know how to break it. Finally, Hailey did.
“You didn’t even thank him,” she said quietly.
“What?” I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Well, he found your notebook for you. You . . . you should have thanked him. I mean, you’d be lost without it, right?”
She was right. I felt my face grow warm, but I quickly got mad that Hailey was bossing me around all the time now.
“I’ll thank him when I see him,” I said. “Anyway, why do you care?”
Hailey shrugged. “I just don’t think you’re very nice to him.”
“So?”
“He’s pretty nice to you . . .” Hailey said.
“Not really,” I said sarcastically.
“Oh, whatever!” Hailey was annoyed now, and on one level, I didn’t blame her. I was acting pretty mean and cranky and she had no idea why. But the rest of me felt like: Too bad! You lovebirds are ruining my life and I hate you both!
There was a honk outside and I looked out the window. It was my mom in her Jeep, here to pick me up.
“Well . . . thanks,” I said.
“Yeah, anytime,” Hailey said, not that nicely.
I sighed and picked up my bag.
“Say hi to lover boy for me,” she said as I left.
Yeah, right. “Okay,” I said. “See you later!” And I closed the door behind me.
Chapter 12
MARTONE DISTRAUGHT OVER TURN OF EVENTS
My mom was happy to see me, if a little perplexed because I usually just stay all day after a sleepover. But I explained about my notebook and I played the workload card and she bought it.
We were at Michael’s house in less than two minutes, and my mom pulled up at the curb so I could run to the door.
I climbed the steps to the front porch and reached out to ring the doorbell, but the door flung open and Michael was standing there, freshly showered (yet again), in a faded green T-shirt and old jeans. He looked gorgeous. It kind of took my breath away for a minute.
“H-hi,” I stammered. I felt supershy and overwhelmed seeing him looking so good and being at his house and everything. It was different than running into him at school.
Michael grinned. “Hi. I saw you pull up. Cool Jeep.”
I looked over my shoulder. “Thanks. It’s my mom’s.”
“Cool mom,” he said.
I nodded. “Most of the time.”
“Want to come in?” he asked, opening the door wide and gesturing with his arm.
“Oh . . . uh . . . no thanks. I . . .” I peeked in and I could see a really pretty hallway with striped wallpaper. Plus an amazing cinnamon smell was coming from the kitchen. I was dying to go in and look all around. But I felt so awkward. It was weird enough being at his front door, never mind touring around the house. Plus Mom was sitting in the car. “Oh! Well, my mom is waiting.”
“Mikey?” It must have been his mom calling from the kitchen. “I think your cinnamon buns are ready!” She came walking out, her low heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Michael’s mom is really pretty. I’ve seen her before. She’s a lot older than my mom but still really pretty, with that same tan skin and dark hair, and the same light eyes that he has. “Hi!” she said with a big, friendly smile. “You must be Samantha!”
I smiled back and held out my hand. I was really nervous, like more nervous than I’d been before. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Oh, such good manners! I’m glad Mikey found your notebook! I’d die if I lost my FiloFax, where I keep everything!”
I nodded. “I know. Thanks so much,” I said to him, finally. “Really! I really appreciate it.” I thought about what Hailey said and winced. “I was worried all night, so . . . really, thanks.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. I know how attached you are to that thing. And when the coach had me run out to pick up the cones, I saw it just lying there in the grass where we’d been juggling, so . . .” He shrugged.
His mom looked back and forth between us and smiled. “Maybe I’ll go grab the cinnamon buns so they don’t burn. Would you like to come and have some? Mikey just made them, especially . . .”
“Okay, Mom. Thanks!” Michael interrupted her. “Kitchen. Burning buns! Thanks!” He waved her away.
“Bye, Samantha! It was nice to meet you!” She waved and ran off.
Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Mothers!” he said, embarrassed.
I looked at him. “What are you baking for?” I asked. He was so manly; I couldn’t picture him baking anything. This was like a whole new side of Michael Lawrence.
His face turned red. “Oh, nothing. I just . . . you know. They’re really tasty. Are you sure you wouldn’t like one? Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
I felt so shy and nerdy it was almost physically painful. I just wanted to get out of there at that point and put myself out of this miserable
awkwardness. But at the same time, Michael Lawrence was inviting me in for a snack! Ha! Take that, Hailey!
I glanced out to my mom in the Jeep. She waved and smiled. Michael waved back.
“I think I’d better go . . .” I said reluctantly.
“Okay, that’s fine! Totally! I understand. You probably have a million things to do today. So. Okay. Let me just grab . . .” Michael awkwardly tried to stretch to the hall table while still holding the door but it wasn’t going to work.
“Here,” I offered. I stuck my foot out to prop open the door as he reached for the notebook.
“Hey, Pasty,” he joked, “careful with that door near my hand!”
I must have turned bright red. “Oh!” I said, and pulled my foot back fast.
“I was kidding!” said Michael, handing me the notebook.
“Right. Well, thank you so, so much,” I said. “Really, I can’t thank you enough.” Somehow I felt bad about not coming in. Like I was even being a little rude, as if I’d been expected.
It seemed like neither of us knew what to do next.
“Well, bye!” I said. I turned away but Michael’s mom came running to the door.
“Wait! Samantha! You’ve got to try one of Mikey’s cinnamon buns! He makes the best!”
“Mom!” Michael protested. He was mortified, I could tell.
She handed me a pretty paper napkin with a big, squishy cinnamon bun that was dripping with frosting.
“Wow!” I said. I was impressed. “You made this?” I asked Michael.
He nodded.
“Yum! Thanks! Thank you both, so much, for everything!” I said. “See you!”
“Bye!” Michael and his mom stood in the doorway and waved as I walked back to the Jeep. I waved back and then got in.
“Yum!” said my mom, looking at the bun.
“I know,” I said. “Total yum!”
The bun was delicious. One of the best things I’ve ever eaten, actually. It was gone before I even got home. As I licked the gooey white frosting from my fingers, I thought back to what Michael’s mom had been about to say, about Michael making them especially for something. I wondered what for.
At my desk at home, I laid out all of the Dear Know-It-All letters. There were ten in all. The most recent were about someone whose mom wouldn’t let them drink soda (boring), juggling homework loads (two of them, so double boring), and one about what to do when your socks fall down all the time in gym (Really? Buy new socks). I was stuck with Hailey’s letter. It was the only decent one to tackle as the first column of the year. It set the right tone, it had spunk, and it was exciting. It was also about me and, oh yeah, one little detail: I had no idea how to answer it.
