“What should we do?” Becca asked.
“Start searching!” Jessi said. “Let’s split up. We’ll have to cover the whole house. He could be anywhere.”
“But where should we start?” Charlotte looked around the kitchen.
Jessi thought for a moment. “I’m pretty sure he’s hiding somewhere in the house.” (She wouldn’t even let herself think that he might be outside.) “We’ll have to look under all the tables and chairs. Hamsters like to hide, so you’ll have to check any place that he could fit under. And don’t forget the closets.”
Fifteen minutes later, Becca yelled down the stairs, “Jessi! Come up to my room. I found him!”
“Thank goodness. Where was he?” Jessi rushed upstairs to find Charlotte and Becca both kneeling down in front of Misty’s cage. She was amazed to see two furry bodies munching on hamster pellets. “He’s in Misty’s cage!”
“Yeah, but how did he get there?” Becca reached in to pet him.
Jessi shook her head. She was baffled. “I have no idea. He certainly didn’t open the cage door himself.”
Becca and Charlotte laughed at the idea.
“Now what?” Charlotte asked.
Jessi opened the cage and carefully lifted out a wriggling Frodo. “He’s going right back where he belongs,” she said firmly. “Back to his own cage in the kitchen.”
On the way downstairs she started thinking over what had just happened. There was only one explanation: Becca. Maybe Becca had thought it would be funny to put Frodo in with Misty, or maybe she thought Frodo was lonely. She decided it was time to speak up. “Becca,” she said, “I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong, but it wasn’t a good idea to put Frodo in with Misty —”
“But I didn’t!” Becca protested. “I didn’t go anywhere near him.”
“Now, Becca,” she said gently, “Frodo didn’t let himself in the cage.”
“But I didn’t do it!” Becca repeated. “I would never do something like that. Maybe they wouldn’t like each other, or maybe Frodo would eat Misty’s food. You know I would never do anything that might hurt Misty.”
Jessi knew that this was true. Then what had really happened?
A few minutes later, she was carefully putting Frodo back in his own cage when Squirt started yelling. “No, no! Same! Same!”
Jessi looked up. “What’s the matter, Squirt?” She shut the cage door and went to the sink to wash her hands.
Squirt rushed to the cage and tried to open it. “Open!” he demanded.
Jessi knelt down so she was at eye level with him. “Frodo belongs in his own cage,” she said, but Squirt went right on yelling.
“Same, same!”
Finally Jessi got it. Squirt had put the two hamsters in the same cage because they were the same! He’d really been paying attention to the TV show.
“Wow,” she said softly. Squirt was obviously a genius. She could hardly wait to tell her parents that her baby brother was much smarter than anyone had guessed.
I didn’t want to say too much in the postcard, but Stacey and I have not been getting along very well. It’s all because Toby dumped her on Thursday night. I didn’t find out about it until Friday morning after breakfast.
Stacey came charging out of the bathroom, her face like a thundercloud. “You used my towel — again!” she yelled.
“I did not use your towel,” I said quietly. I hate it when people get mad at me, but I wasn’t going to confess to something I didn’t do. I’ve found that the best thing to do when Stacey gets in one of her moods is to ignore her, and that’s just what I did.
“How can you stand there and deny it?” she demanded. She walked right up to me, so close our noses were practically touching.
“Stacey,” I said, trying to keep my cool, “my towel has blue flowers with yellow centers. Your towel has yellow flowers with blue centers.”
She frowned. “Yellow flowers with —”
“That’s right.” I turned away and started folding my shorts and T-shirts into a pile. I knew it would be hectic tomorrow when we had to close up the house.
“Humph,” she snorted. “Well, maybe you’re right about the towel,” she admitted. She stood staring at me, and I could practically see the wheels turning. She was looking for something to get mad about. “I can’t believe you’re doing this now,” she said, pointing to the stack of clothes.
“I like to be organized,” I said, sighing, “and things will be really busy in the morning.”
“You’re always organized,” she said coolly. “I would find it very boring to live that way.”
“Uh-huh.” I looked at Stacey’s cosmetics strewn over the dresser. Not much danger of that, I thought.
She ran her finger lightly along the edge of my T-shirts. “You’re so neat, I’m surprised you don’t iron your underwear.” She paused. “Or maybe you do when we’re all asleep.” She flounced out of the room before I could think up an answer to that one.
I didn’t find out about Toby until that evening. Stacey had calmed down a little after dinner, and she and Mal and I were sitting on the porch swing. It was dusk, my favorite time of day, and a salty breeze was blowing off the ocean.
“I guess tonight is the time for good-byes,” I said quietly.
“Toby already said good-bye. Last night,” she sniffled. She buried her face in her hands, just for a minute.
“Stacey?” said Mal, glancing at me.
Stacey looked up, her blue eyes misting over. “He broke up with me. Can you believe it?” (Mal’s eyes widened.)
“Why? Did you two have a fight?” I asked.
“Of course not.” She ran her hand very quickly over her eyes. “We never fight.”
“Then what happened?”
She shrugged. “I can’t figure it out. He just said that these past two weeks have been great, but that it’s over. He wants to go home and date other people. He doesn’t want to be tied up with me.”
“Gosh,” said Mal breathily.
I thought guiltily of Logan. “But couldn’t you date other people and still stay in touch with each other?”
Stacey shook her head. “He doesn’t see it that way.” She stood up and leaned against the railing. “You’re really lucky you have Logan waiting for you back home, Mary Anne. As you always say, he’s your one true love.”
Oh, yes. I had been saying that, hadn’t I?
Stacey gave a long sigh. “It must be nice to have someone to count on.”
Mal looked from Stacey to me with interest. She’s just beginning to think that not all boys are jerks.
Margo and Claire came out on the porch then, so the conversation was over, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Logan and Alex and how confused I was. Whenever I was with Alex, I had a wonderful time. Maybe I was even in love with him. I wasn’t sure. And when I thought of Logan — that sweet smile, that deep voice — I thought I was in love with him! You can’t be in love with two boys at once, can you? I just didn’t know.
Alex and I decided to spend our last night together at the “real” restaurant, since we had had so much fun there before. As it turned out, it was a big mistake. Everything seemed different this time, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
For one thing, Alex had absolutely nothing to say. Naturally that made me very nervous, and when I get nervous I clam up. So both of us were sitting there like ventriloquist dummies, waiting for someone to make us talk.
I had to break the silence or I would go crazy, so I made a big deal out of choosing dinner. “Let’s do something wild and not order fish,” I said gaily. “That’s the rule tonight. You can order anything but fish or shellfish.”
Alex smiled politely. He must have thought I was crazy. “Whatever you say.” He glanced at the menu. “There won’t be much of a choice, though. After all, this is a seafood restaurant.”
“Oh, there will be enough to choose from. It will just be a challenge.” I tried a little laugh that didn’t quite come off. Why had I started thi
s?
“I suppose we could try the spaghetti.” Alex smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“No way,” I said. I shook my finger at him. “It has clam sauce.”
“Oh, sorry.” He stared at the menu for a long time. “Well,” he said finally, “we could try the giant sub sandwich. I’m sure that doesn’t have any fish in it.”
“Sounds good to me!” I laughed like I was having the time of my life. When the sandwich arrived, I felt like crawling under the table. In the first place you should never order a sub sandwich when you’re eating out because they are incredibly messy. Tomato slices slide down your chin, mayonnaise squirts out of both ends, and salami slithers into your lap. Not a pretty sight. In the second place, they are huge. This sandwich looked bigger than my head. I realized too late that we should have split one between us.
The only good thing was that now we had an excuse not to talk. We were too busy working our way through a mountain of cold cuts and French bread. I told Alex a little more about the Pike kids, and he talked about his softball team, but somehow the conversation never got going. We weren’t really talking, we were “saying lines,” just like you do in a school play. Except it felt like we were doing different plays, because the lines didn’t sound right.
I thought the meal would never end, and when it finally did, I reached for the check.
“You can’t do that,” Alex said, making a grab for it.
“Why not?”
“Girls don’t pay for dates.”
“Sure they do. Logan and I always take turns paying.”
“Who’s Logan?”
Uh-oh. “He’s my, uh, boyfriend. Back home in Stoneybrook.” The truth was finally out!
Alex didn’t seem too upset. “I have a girlfriend back home, too,” he said casually.
“That’s nice,” I said. What was I talking about?
“What is?”
“That you have a girlfriend. And I have a boyfriend.”
Alex looked at me and burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, can you?”
I started laughing. “Not really. It sure beats hearing about your pitching arm, though.”
Alex laughed even harder then, and I knew that everything would be okay. Suddenly he was the warm, funny Alex I knew, and we talked until it was time to go. (He ended up letting me pay the check.)
Later on, when we walked along the boardwalk, I thought about how much I liked Alex, and how much fun we had had at Sea City. We were pals — friends — and it was much nicer than being boyfriend and girlfriend. After all, we each had a romantic relationship back home. Why complicate things?
“You know what?” Alex said, walking me up the Pikes’ porch steps. “This has been one of the best nights of my life.”
“You know what? I feel exactly the same way!”
“Friends?” He leaned forward and gave me a big hug.
I nodded. “Forever.”
Mr. and Mrs. Pike were sitting in the kitchen when I got home from my date with Alex.
“Did you have a good time?” Mrs. Pike asked.
“I had a wonderful time.” We were speaking in low voices, because everyone else was in bed.
Mrs. Pike smiled. “Mmm, sounds serious,” she said teasingly. “Maybe you better sit down and talk about it over a piece of apple pie.”
I laughed. “No, that’s the great part about it. It’s not serious at all.” I realized they had no idea what I was talking about and decided to leave it that way. “And thanks for the pie, but we had a big dinner, and I’m stuffed. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
“Sleep well,” Mr. Pike said. “Tomorrow’s a busy day.”
I tiptoed up the stairs, suddenly very tired. I was all set to open my bedroom door when I saw a faint light at the end of the hall. It was coming from under the door to the room Mal and Vanessa were sharing. I decided to check on things.
“What’s up?” I whispered, sticking my head in the door. Mallory was sound asleep, but Vanessa was sitting up in bed, her notepad balanced on her knees, a small reading light on.
She motioned me over to the bed. “I’m writing to Chris,” she said quietly.
I sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. “What did you decide to tell him?”
“Well,” she said, “I tried to look at the problem from every angle, and I figured out there was only one solution.”
I was impressed with how grown-up she sounded. I had been thinking about the problem all day and didn’t have a clue what to do. I was totally stumped.
She took a deep breath. “This is what I’ve come up with. Chris thinks Mal is his secret admirer.”
“Right.”
“And he wants to take her out Saturday night.” She paused. “So the answer is obvious.”
“It is?” I had no idea what she was going to say next.
“It’s very simple. We won’t be here Saturday night. We’re leaving tomorrow. So all I have to do is write Chris another poem and tell him how disappointed I am that we’ll be back in Stoneybrook.”
“You’re not going to tell him that you, and not Mallory, were the one who fell in love with him and sent him those poems?”
She shook her head. “What good would it do? Mallory is the one he likes. This way is much better. He’ll never know the real story, and neither will Mallory.”
It was pretty hard to believe that a nine-year-old kid could come up with such a great idea.
“I’ll read the poem to you if you like, but you’ve got to promise me something. If you think it’s silly, please tell me. I don’t want to make a total idiot of myself.”
Just then, Mallory made a funny snuffling noise in her sleep and rolled over. Vanessa and I froze for a minute and then relaxed. “It’s okay. She’s a very heavy sleeper. She’s just dreaming,” said Vanessa.
“Read the poem,” I whispered.
“‘Dear Chris,
I’d love to see you tonight,
but the timing just isn’t right.
We’re leaving Sea City today,
and going far away.
I’ll always remember your smile,
please think of me once in a while.
I you forever, your secret admirer.’”
Vanessa’s voice choked up a little on the last line, and I had a lump in my throat. “It’s a beautiful poem,” I told her. “You said just the right thing, and it’s not silly at all.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I leaned over and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you, Vanessa. I know this must have been really hard to do.”
“It was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my whole life.” She hugged me very tightly, and I knew she was trying not to cry. “Will you help me deliver it to Ice-Cream Palace tomorrow?”
“Of course I will.” I could barely get the words out because I had started to cry myself. All I need is to see someone sad or in trouble, and I immediately start bawling.
“Don’t cry, Mary Anne,” Vanessa whispered against my shoulder. That only made things worse, and before you know it, both of us were crying.
“I better go to my room,” I said finally. “You need to get some sleep.”
“Okay,” she said, turning off the light and snuggling under the covers. She managed to smile at me, even though she looked a little weepy. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“Any time.” I headed for the door when a noise made me turn around suddenly.
“I told you I want sunscreen, not sunblock!” Mallory was sitting straight up in bed, pointing a finger at me. I felt like a criminal.
My heart stopped. “What — what did you say?” I stammered. I looked at Vanessa, who flipped the light back on. I knew my face must be flaming red.
“Lie down, Mallory. You’re in the middle of a dream,” Vanessa said calmly.
I was amazed. “She is? She looks like she’s wide awake.”
Vanessa nodded. “S
he does this all the time. She’s sound asleep but she talks to herself. It’s pretty creepy, but I’m used to it by now.”
Vanessa hopped out of bed and gently pushed Mallory’s shoulders until she was lying down again. Mallory’s eyelids fluttered a few times and then closed.
Vanessa smiled as she got back in bed. “She won’t remember a word of this in the morning,” she said, as I tiptoed out of the room.
I was dying to crawl into bed, but there was one more hurdle to cross. Stacey. She was in bed, but she wasn’t asleep. In fact, she was sitting up with a book. She closed it when I came in our bedroom, though.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she said. “I’ve been waiting up for you.”
I felt bone-tired. “Look, Stacey,” I said wearily, “if you’re all set for another argument, it will have to wait till morning.” Stacey had seemed saner — almost nice — earlier in the evening, but I still didn’t trust her. People who’ve been dumped like to pick fights.
“No, I don’t want to argue with you, Mary Anne.” She hesitated. “Just the opposite. I’ve been such a jerk. I want to apologize for the lousy way I treated you.”
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Oh, no. Not again! I thought.
“Do you think you can ever forgive me?” Stacey asked in a quavery voice.
“Of course I can,” I told her. “But please don’t say another word about it, or I’ll start crying.”
“Okay,” she said, laughing a little. “I don’t want you to turn on the waterworks or we’ll be drowning in here.” She quickly changed the subject. “How was your date tonight?”
“It was great.” I could feel myself breaking into a grin. “Really a super night.”
Stacey looked surprised. “No sad good-byes?”
I shook my head. “No, everything was wonderful. Because I finally figured something out.”
“You did?”
I nodded. “Alex is a good friend, but Logan is my boyfriend. The love of my life,” I added, blushing a little. “Once I figured that out, everything fell into place. I don’t feel confused anymore.”
Mary Anne and Too Many Boys Page 7
