Holly's Heart Collection One (2 page)

“One of the boys tried to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

“What?” Suddenly wide-awake, I grabbed Andie’s arm. “
Who
did?”

She shook her head and looked away. “I, uh, shouldn’t tell you.”

“What do you mean
shouldn’t
?”

“Oh, Holly,” she whined. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I grabbed her other arm. “This is embarrassing. I
have
to know!”

She pulled away from me. “Don’t do this, Holly.”

“Do what? We’re best friends, remember?”

She folded her arms. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” I was desperate. “Did his lips actually touch mine?”

Andie nodded solemnly. “Your first…uh, kiss—well, not really—but, you know. And you weren’t even awake for it,” she said.

“Andie!” I howled. “Don’t you dare joke about this. Who was it?” I was dying to know, but just then Andie’s parents poked their heads in the door.

“Ready to go?” Mrs. Martinez asked. “We told the baby-sitter we’d be back by nine.”

“Okay, Mom,” Andie said. Then she whispered to me, “Call me the second you get home.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied.

Mom returned with a glass of water and made me drink it. Then she held my arm while we walked to the car. Carrie opened the door for me. During the drive home, Mom kept pampering me.

“Are you feeling better, Holly-Heart?” she asked. Flicking on the inside light, she stroked the top of my head. “The color’s returned to your cheeks. That’s good.”

Carrie giggled from the backseat. “You looked like a ghost up there.”

“Did I? Did everybody see me faint?” I was mortified. Not only had I been semiresuscitated by a boy while unconscious, but a whole auditorium full of parents and kids had watched me keel over!

“Now, Holly, things like this can happen to anyone,” Mom said. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“But, Mom, that’s not
all
that happened.” Then I told her about the unneeded attempt at resuscitation.

“I think someone was trying to help you, Holly. That’s all.”

“But don’t you see, Andie won’t tell me who! I guess I wouldn’t mind it if it was Jared, but Tom Sly, well…” I felt queasy at the thought.

Mom asked, smiling, “Does Jared happen to be the cute new boy you’ve been talking about? The one who spoke to me tonight?”

I nodded, and Carrie caught on and began to chant, “Holly and Jared, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—”

“Mom!” I protested. I didn’t need trouble from my eight-year-old sister, too.

“Carrie,
please,
” Mom said. “Don’t tease your sister.”

I could hear Carrie snickering softly, but I let it go. It was enough for Mom to glare at her in the rearview mirror.

We pulled into the garage, and I could hear the phone ringing as we got out of the car.

“It’s Andie!” I guessed, getting out of the car. I made a mad dash for the house and the phone. “Hello?”

It
was
Andie. “What took you so long?”

“Nothing,” I said. “We came straight home.” Quickly, I retreated to my favorite telephone stall—the downstairs bathroom. No one could hear me there. I lowered the toilet lid and settled down. “Okay, I’m ready for the whole story,” I said.

She began to reveal what happened when I blacked out. Everything except the thing I was most eager to know. Then she said, “What do
you
remember about tonight?”

I was cautious, keeping the most private moments with Jared to myself.

“So…that’s it?” she asked. “Nothing else?”

“Nope!” I said impatiently. “Now, when are you going to tell me who brought me back to life?”

She sighed. “Like I said, I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Honestly,” she said, “I wouldn’t keep my best friend in the dark unless—”

“Unless what?”

“Unless it’s for your own good.”

“Don’t make me crazy, Andie. What good is not knowing?”

“My lips are sealed. True friends must shield one another sometimes.”

“C’mon, don’t get weird on me. Tell me!”

“I can’t, I really can’t.”

“Okay, I’ll just ask Jared. He’ll tell me the truth.”

“That’s not a good idea,” she said.

“Why not? He was there. He should know.”

“You’re getting too hyper, Holly.”

“No kidding!” I was ready to pull my hair out. “Look, Andie, I refuse to talk to you until you tell me everything you know.”

“But, Holly, I—”

“Good-bye, Andie.” And with that, I hung up.

What a nightmare this was turning out to be. The most mysterious thing that had ever happened to me, and my own best friend wouldn’t even talk about it!

BEST FRIEND, WORST ENEMY

Chapter 2

Fortunately, I had two whole days to get over my fainting episode. I would have died of embarrassment if I had to go to school the very next day!

I spent Saturday morning writing in my diary. Ever since third grade, I’d kept a journal. My secret wish is to be a writer when I grew up. That is, if I survive seventh grade.

My hand shook as I wrote the date: Saturday, January 16. Then I described the whole humiliating evening. Right down to Andie’s awful secret. What
had
happened while I lay there, dead to the world? I imagined several scenarios and wrote them down. In one scene, Tom tried to get near me and Jared bravely pushed him away, protecting my innocent lips.

Carrie called up the stairs, interrupting my thoughts. “Holly! Andie’s on the phone for you.”

“Tell her I’m busy,” I yelled back.

“She won’t believe me!” she said.

I went to the head of the stairs. “Tell her I’m out.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay!” I said, exasperated. “This is the truth: Tell her I refuse to talk to her until she tells me in person what happened last night.”

“Have it your way,” Carrie snipped.

Tiptoeing downstairs, I observed my sister telling Andie what I’d just said. When Carrie hung up I asked, “What’d Andie say?”

“She said, ‘Over my dead body,’ ” Carrie repeated, snickering.

I tromped back to my room. Enough of Andie’s nonsense. “This means war,” I muttered.

At church the next day, I made a point of snubbing Andie. Sure, my conscience hurt when the minister talked about forgiveness, but I tried very hard to push the sermon out of my mind. I was still too upset to deal with it.

On Monday at school, I arrived early to Miss Wannamaker’s gloomy English classroom, hoping to have the chance to talk to Jared or Tom. The walls in the classroom were a sick gray, a sorry color for a room where some of my best creative writing happened—assigned by one of my favorite teachers. Miss W was one of the largest women I’d ever seen, but she had the face of an angel and the heart of a saint.

The classroom slowly filled up, but before I could catch either Jared or Tom, Miss W herself arrived. “Dear class,” she began, like a letter. That was her way every day. “Turn to page 249 in your literature books.” She faced the chalkboard and wrote a “pithy” quotation, as she called it. The flap of skin under her arm jiggled as she wrote.

“Hey, Jared. How much to call Miss W the
B
word?” Tom Sly whispered behind me.

I glanced at Jared, who sat across the aisle.

“Do you mean…
blob
?” Jared blurted out.

Miss W whirled around. “Jared. Tom.” They looked up from their desks, shocked. “You will both see me after class.”

Her tone meant trouble—
big
trouble. I didn’t feel sorry for Tom. His show-off routine had finally caught up with him.

But Jared? That was another story….

Two months ago, right before Thanksgiving, Jared Wilkins had moved to Dressel Hills, our ski village nestled in the Colorado Rockies. I often caught him watching me when I peeked at him. I secretly hoped
he
was the one who had come to my rescue, like some fairy-tale prince.

“Dear class,” Miss W began again, “I’m returning the quizzes from last week.”

The papers came around. I got a ninety percent—not bad for last-minute cramming.

“Now for Thursday’s assignment,” she said. We all groaned, but she ignored us. “I want each of you to write a short story—two pages typewritten, minimum.” More groans. “The main character must have something in common with you—your personality, hobby, or a special interest. Otherwise, the sky’s the limit.”

I jotted notes in my red binder and sneaked a look at Jared. He gestured that we should talk after class. I smiled yes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Andie scrunch her eyes at me like a snapping turtle ready to attack. I turned my back and ignored her. True to my word, I hadn’t spoken to her all day—even though her locker was right next to mine.

After English, Miss W gave Jared and Tom a tongue-lashing. I waited in the hallway, nervously pulling on my hair. Who should I ask about Friday night? Jared or Tom? Tom was a tease and a real pain, but at least I’d known him since first grade. I hardly knew Jared at all. Thinking it over, I decided to play it by ear.

Before long, Jared came out. “Hope you aren’t in trouble with Miss Wannamaker,” I said.

“Not really, but Tom’s still in there.” He glanced over his shoulder, and then we headed down the hall toward our lockers. “Any chance you’re going to youth group tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Well, Pastor Rob said he wants kids to wait till they’re thirteen,” I said, my heart
thump-thump
ing.

“When will that be?” He reached for my books.

“I doubt you’ll believe it if I tell you.” I was actually walking down the corridors of Dressel Hills Junior High with the best-looking guy in school balancing my books on his hip!

“Try me.”

“February fourteenth.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked surprised. “Valentine’s Day?”

“That’s my birthday.” My face felt like it had a bad sunburn. Jared had to notice. That thought made it worse.

“How’d you end up with a Christmasy name like Holly?”

What was wrong with my knees? They shook like I was up on the second riser again.

“My mom named me after her great-aunt,” I said. “We share the same name, but that’s where the similarity ends.”

“What do you mean?”

“My great-aunt Holly became a missionary to Africa.”

“Really?”

“Her life was filled with fabulous excitement—dangerous adventure that would build your faith instantly.
I’m
lucky if I remember to read my devotions every day.”

Jared grinned.

“Mom calls me Holly-Heart,” I volunteered without thinking. “It’s her special nickname for me, because of my Valentine birthday.”

“It’s perfect for you. You
are
all heart, aren’t you?” His eyes softened.

I didn’t dare tell him the nickname my gym teacher had chosen for me. Holly-Bones was verbal abuse at its worst, I thought, tucking my shirttail into the tiny waist of my jeans.

Arriving at my locker, we found Andie rummaging in hers.

“See you tomorrow,” Jared said, handing back my books.

“Okay…” My heart pounded as he headed down the hall.

“Aw, how—what should I say?—promising,” Andie muttered inside her messy locker.

Refusing to respond, I spun my combination lock and opened the door—right into Andie’s.