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

I trotted over to my friends as the Krushers started to leave. "You know what?" I said breathlessly. "I think we could beat the Bashers again — even without handicaps."
"The kids are improving, that's for sure," said Stacey, as Gabbie and Myriah ran to her and checked on their little sister.
"Ooh, she's sleeping," said Gabbie in a hushed voice. "Quiet, everyone."
I could tell that Stacey and Shannon and Mal wanted to laugh (I did), but instead we just lowered our voices.
"I better get going," said Shannon. "I'm supposed to start dinner tonight."
"I'm glad you guys had a chance to talk," I said.
"Me, too," replied Stacey. She smiled at Shannon. Then she left with the Perkins girls, Gabbie tiptoeing across the grass so as not to disturb Laura.
Later that afternoon, Stacey received a call from me.
"Hi," I said. "How was the rest of your sitting job?"
"Oh, fine. The girls were angels," Stacey reported. "Laura woke up on the way back and Myriah and Gabbie entertained her with songs until we reached their house. Mrs. Per-kins was already home, so I left then."
"Well, guess what. Just as you guys were heading away from the ball field, Bart showed up. He walked me home again. And you will never guess what we have decided to do."
"Elope?" said Stacey.
"No!" I was horrified.
"I was just kidding. I mean, because of the mystery admirer stuff."
"Oh. Well, anyway, we decided to hold a World Series between the Krushers and the Bashers."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"How many games will you play?"
"Well, we had sort of a fight over that," I admitted. "I wanted to play three games, but Bart said one was enough for little kids. He thought three would be too much pressure, especially for kids like Claire Pike. I still don't agree with him, but I gave in. At least our fight is over."
"That's good," said Stacey. "Did Bart give away anything about being your mystery admirer?"
"Not a thing. That's why I'm so sure he's not the one."
"But he has to be," said Stacey.
"You sound like Shannon."
"I can't help it. Bart makes the most sense."
I started to tell her all the reasons why I knew Bart wasn't my mystery admirer, but I was tired of repeating them. Instead, I said, "I did something you won't believe."
"What?"
"I asked Bart to the Halloween Hop at our school and he said he'd come." That announcement was greeted by such a long silence that I said, "Stacey? . . . Stace? . . . Are you there?"
Finally she burst out laughing. "I'm here," she replied. "I really can't believe you did that! That's great. The Hop's coming up in just a couple of weeks — but you'll have to find something to wear, and fix your hair, and ..."
Stacey was off and running. I think she was more excited than I was.
Chapter 6.
"This," I said, "is completely gross." I poked at something yellowy-brown on the plate of food I'd just bought in the hot-lunch line in the cafeteria.
"Then why," said Claudia, "did you buy the hot lunch? You could buy a sandwich or a salad, you know."
I shrugged.
Claud, Stacey, Mary Anne, Dawn, Logan, and I were sitting at our usual table in the school cafeteria. (Mal and Jessi eat during another period since they're not in our grade.)
"Besides," I said, stabbing the unrecognizable thing with my fork, holding it up, and letting it dangle in front of me, "I like to gross out Mary Anne." I aimed my fork in her direction.
"Put it down!" shrieked Mary Anne, and Logan gave me a dirty look, which wasn't really very dirty.
"Of all the people at this table," said Dawn, "who would think that she" (Dawn pointed at me) "would have a mystery admirer?" Dawn looked as grossed out as Mary Anne.
"Or that she'd be the president of the BSC," added Stacey. "Kristy, either put that thing down or eat it."
I put it down. I certainly wasn't about to eat it.
We talked about baby-sitting for awhile. Mary Anne said that prissy Mrs. Prezzioso had actually bought Jenny a pair of pants. Until now, it had been hard to distinguish Jenny from lace curtains. Then Mal said that Matt Braddock was going to be in a play in his special school. The entire performance would be done in sign language. It was going to be a Hallo ween play.
Halloween reminded me of the Halloween Hop, and we began to talk about who was going with whom, and who was just going to go and hope for the best. Mary Anne and Logan were going together, of course. Claudia was hoping that this boy, Woody Jefferson, would ask her. Stacey was trying to get up the nerve to ask some new boy in her English class to go with her, and Dawn said she would go alone.
"A lot of kids do that," she added defen-
sively. Then she said that she thought I was so brave to have asked Bart. (By that time, everyone knew what I'd done. Secrets don't last long in the BSC.)
"Speaking of Bart," said Mary Anne. "Have you gotten any more notes?"
"Another one this morning!" I replied.
"And you didn't tell us?" cried Claudia. (You have to have a loud voice to be heard in our cafeteria.)
"Sorry," I replied. "It was the fourth one. I guess I'm getting used to them."
"Used to them!" repeated Dawn, awed.
"Boy, if I had a mystery admirer who was sending me love letters —" Stacey began loudly.
"SHH! Keep your voice down!" I said.