"BSC038 - Kristy's Mystery Admirer - Martin, Ann M" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"I'm not leaving the closet." (Crackle.) "If my brothers hear about — "
"Kristy!" It was Mom calling me.
"Shannon, I have to go. Can you" (crackle) "over after supper?"
"Can I bring the letter over after supper? Sure. I don't know how long I can stay, but I'm dying to know what's in this envelope. . . . That is, if you'll let me see. You will let me see, won't you?"
"I guess so." (Crackle.) "I mean, it'll de — " (crackle) "what the letter, or whatever it is, says. It might be very personal."
"KRISTY!" That time Sam was calling me. He's got the world's loudest voice. It's like a sonic boom.
"I really have to go now," I told Shannon. "See you later. And thanks."
Shannon and I hung up. I pushed down the antenna on the cordless phone, burst out of the closet, and flew into the kitchen. I knew I was late for dinner.
"Sorry," I said, as I slid into my place on the bench. (We eat at a long table with a bench at either side and Emily's high chair at one end.) "I had to talk to Shannon. She's going
to come over after dinner. She won't stay long/' I added quickly. "We both have homework." We hadn't said that over the phone, but we always have homework, so why should that night have been any different?
Somehow, I got through dinner. I really don't know how I did it. All I could think of was the envelope and the hearts and flowers.
I am not the hearts-and-flowers type.
At seven-thirty, our bell rang.
"I'll get it!" I screeched. I half expected Watson to say, "Indoor voice, Kristy," to me, which is what we have to say to Karen a lot. She tends to get noisy.
By now, David Michael was as curious as I was about what was going on. He'd taken the messages from Shannon. He knew I'd called Shannon from inside the closet. And now he saw that I couldn't wait for Shannon to come inside. So he was right next to me when I answered the door.
"Hi," I said breathlessly.
There stood Shannon. She has thick, curly, blonde hair (similar to Stacey's) and blue eyes, but I wouldn't call her gorgeous like Dawn or even attractive like Stacey. She's more . . . interesting-looking. I once heard someone say
that being called "interesting" is practically a curse. It's the word people use when they don't want to say someone's ugly. But I don't agree. At least not in Shannon's case. She really is interesting-looking. She has high cheekbones, like that actress Meryl Streep, and wide eyes. Her lashes are very pale, but she's allowed to use makeup, so she puts on black mascara every morning. And she has a ski-jump nose, the kind that's almost too cute. (Shannon told me once that she wants a nose job — to straighten it out — but her parents say no. They aren't strict. They just think she should wait until she's an adult before she makes a decision like that.)
I let Shannon inside. She was still wearing her Stoneybrook Day School uniform. Shannon, Bart, and about half the kids in our neighborhood go to Stoneybrook Day School. Karen, Andrew, and a lot of other kids go to another private school called Stoneybrook Academy. My brothers and I are practically the only kids around here who go to public school.
"So?" I said eagerly to Shannon.
She pulled the envelope out of the pocket of her school uniform and handed it to me. I was so excited I could hardly breathe. Then I
realized that David Michael was at my elbow.
"Let's go to my room/' I said hastily. Shannon and I thundered up the stairs. David Michael was at our heels.
When we reached the door to my room and I realized that we were still a trio, I had to say, "David Michael, this is private. You can't come in." (I couldn't help being blunt. I was nearing hysteria.)
"But I want to know what's going on," he said.
"Maybe I'll tell you later," I replied ''Maybe. Anyway, this is girl stuff." I knew that would get him.
"Girl stuff! Gross. Forget it. I don't want to know after all."
I grinned at Shannon. David Michael had taken off like a shot.
Shannon and I darted into my room and I closed the door behind us. We flopped on my bed, and I let the envelope dangle between my thumb and forefinger.
Then we examined the envelope together. The front said simply KRISTY. The word was typed but the "I" had been dotted with a tiny heart sticker. A flower sticker had been placed carefully in each corner of the envelope.
"Maybe it's not for me," I said. "It doesn't say 'Kristy Thomas.' It just says 'Kristy.' "
"Well, there aren't any Kristys at my house," Shannon replied. "And I can't think of any other Kristys in the neighborhood — and I know practically everyone around here."
I turned the envelope over. On the back were more hearts and flowers. All I could do was stare at the envelope.
"Well, open it before I die!" cried Shannon.
I ripped the envelope open. Suddenly I felt shy. "Let me read it first," I said to Shannon. "It might be embarrassing."
Shannon understood. "Okay." She rolled over and closed her eyes.
I read the note inside. Compared to the envelope, it was very plain. It was typewritten (or maybe word-processed) on white paper. The note said, "Dear Kristy, I think you are beautiful. And you're the nicest girl I know. I would like to go steady with you. I wish I could tell you this in person. Love, Your Mystery Admirer."
I sat up. "Well, it's not too bad," I said. "Here." I handed the note to Shannon. "What do you think?"
Shannon read the note and smiled, saying, "You've got a mystery admirer! That is so romantic."
I was surprised. Shannon is almost as sophisticated as Stacey. She's had millions of
boyfriends and gone out on plenty of dates. Plus she gets to wear that makeup. It's hard to believe we're the same age. And here she was, all gooey over a little note.
"I bet it's Sam," I said. "It's one of his practical jokes."
"Why would he put the note in our mailbox?" asked Shannon.
"To throw me off the track," I replied. "That's why he couldn't use his own handwriting."
"You are such a dweeb," she said. "You know it's from Bart."
"Bart! Why wouldn't Bart tell me those things in person?"
"They aren't so easy to say," Shannon told me. She sounded as if she were speaking from experience.
"But you just said I have a mystery admirer. Why are you so excited if you think you know who the mystery admirer is?"
"Because. It's still romantic."
"Okay. Then why are there hearts and flowers all over the envelope? Stacey McGill is the only person I know who dots Ts' with hearts. Boys don't do that. This looks like it's from a girl."