Taffy Sinclair 002 - Taffy Sinclair Strikes Again (5 page)

"Her
e's your chance to practice body language on cute boys," Taffy said as we got to school Tuesday morning. She grinned at me as if we were in on some secret plot and then glanced toward the backstop of the baseball diamond where Randy, Mark, and Scott were standing together talking.

I already knew they were there. I had seen them when we were still half a block away. But surely she didn't think that I should send messages to Mark and Scott and
Randy
right there on the school ground of Mark Twain Elementary with every single kid in every single grade looking on. I couldn't do that. I hadn't practiced enough. I wasn't ready. If I goofed up, I'd be so embarrassed I'd die.

"I need to go to my locker," I mumbled, ducking my head and making a sharp left hand turn toward the building.

Taffy grabbed my arm and whirled me back around. "Oh, no you don't," she said. "Are you a chicken or what? It's your perfect chance to send messages to three of the cutest boys in school
and
—" she lowered her voice as if someone were listening in, "you can do it in front of your FORMER friends. Go on!"

I heard somebody groan. It must have been me. Taffy gave me a shove toward the backstop. I tried to breathe and couldn't. My lungs were collapsing along with my shaking legs. How could I send messages to anyone when I was dying of asphyxiation? It would be all her fault if I passed out and had to be taken to the hospital.

But before that could happen, Randy looked up. He looked straight at me and then he smiled.

"Hi, Jana," he said. He kept right on smiling, and it was the same smile as in the poster beside my bed. For a split second I remembered how many times I'd looked at that smile while I practiced sending him messages. It had always been easy in front of his picture in my room. Maybe I could do it now.

"Hi, Randy." I said it in the sweetest voice I could and opened my eyes really wide the way Taffy had taught me to do. It must have worked because I couldn't believe the next thing he said.

"Come here a minute. I want to ask you something."

My heart was pounding so loudly that I almost couldn't hear him. He had gotten my message, and now he wanted to talk to me. I remembered how important it was to walk sexily and stuck my hip out as I took another step. Swing, step. Swing, step. I felt like I was jerking along instead of swinging. I slowed down. I didn't want Randy to think I was spastic. He was still smiling when I got to him so I flipped my pretend long hair over my shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"I forgot to do my math homework last night," he said. "Can I copy your answers?"

"Yeah, me, too," said Mark.

"Me, too," said Scott.

I had to be dreaming. The three cutest boys in the whole sixth grade had asked to copy my homework. They hadn't asked Christie Winchell or Curtis Trowbridge, and those two were mathematical geniuses. They had asked
me,
and it was all because I had sent them messages in body language.

When the first bell rang, we went into the building to our lockers. Randy and Mark and Scott were still walking with me when I passed Christie standing beside her locker taking off her coat. I couldn't resist making my eyes into poison darts and looking at her over my shoulder again. I could tell she got my message because she stuck out her tongue.

After we got to class, I sent hate messages to my three other FORMER friends and was just settling down to daydream about Randy during another boring
morning of school work when Wiggins struck again. She had written the day's assignments on the board and had sat back down at her desk when she stood up again so fast she looked like a rocket launching into space. She just stood there a minute or two, sniffing the air.

"Chewing gum!" she thundered. "Everybody stand at attention."

Wiggins has this thing about chewing gum. She hates it and swears she can smell it half a block away. Naturally, every so often some kid decides to test her nose. I stood up with everybody else, wondering who it was this time. The routine was always the same. Wiggins would go up and down the aisles, sniffing away like a bloodhound until she found who was chewing gum. Then she would take the guilty kid to the front of the room and go through this big ceremony of having him wrap it up in a tissue and throw it into the trash. The routine was always the same, and she never missed.

Everybody stood as stiff as pokers for the first couple of minutes. I could see Melanie out of the corner of my eye, and I was secretly hoping that it was one of my FORMER friends who had gum in her mouth, but I knew it probably wasn't.

By the time Wiggins got to the second aisle, everybody was beginning to get restless. Kids were starting to grin and pantomime messages to one another. I could see Taffy Sinclair up by Wiggins's desk, and I could tell by the way her hip stuck out that she was sending messages to cute boys. Then I got this great idea. Wiggins was still a long way away. With any luck at all, it would take a few more minutes for her to locate the chewing gum. This was the perfect time for me to practice body language again. After all, I had just proved to myself how well it worked on the school ground. There was no telling what else I could do with more practice. I just had to watch Taffy and do what she did.

I shifted my weight so my right hip stuck out, and I put my hand on it the way Taffy was doing. She was looking around really slowly and smiling at every boy who looked at her. It was the same kind of smile I had given Randy before. I would try it again. I started looking around really slowly, too, and smiling at every cute boy that looked back. I hadn't realized before that there were so many cute boys in the sixth grade. Of course, I goofed a few times. Once Sally Schmidt thought I was smiling at her, and she started pantomiming something about Wiggins and her nose. Another time, I was aiming my smile at Mark Peters and drippy Clarence Marshall got in the way. It seemed like every boy in the whole class looked at me except Randy. I didn't care. He had already gotten one message. Then I decided to stick out my left hip and look over my left shoulder at any cute boys that were sitting behind me. I never should have done that because just as soon as I started, Wiggins came tearing up the aisle from the back of the room. We saw each other at just about the same time.

"Jana, are you having some sort of problem?"

When Wiggins said that everybody in the whole room looked at me, and I was so embarrassed I thought I'd die.

"No, ma'am," I said and straightened up as quickly as I could. Of course, Melanie gave me a dirty look and I gave her one back. Fortunately a minute later Wiggins sniffed out the chewing gum and everybody forgot about what she had said to me. They were too busy watching her march a boy named Andy Crowder up to the trash.

The rest of the morning was pretty boring. I was afraid to send any more messages to cute boys in front of Wiggins. There was no telling what she would do. When the noon bell rang, I hurried to get my lunch out of my locker so I could meet Taffy outside the cafeteria door. She was twisting and smiling as we went in, got our milk, and found a table, and I couldn't help wondering if she talked body language in her sleep.

I took a big bite of my cream-cheese-and-jelly sandwich and was looking across the table watching Taffy break hers into little bitty pieces again when I saw Randy Kirwan coming toward us out of the corner of my eye. My heart nearly stopped. He was heading straight for my table,
and I knew why. I tried to chew my
sandwich and swallow it before he got close. That way I could smile and talk to him when he sat down.

I was watching Randy come toward me when I heard someone else come up behind me. A hot lunch tray smacked down on the table.

"Hi, Jana. Mind if I sit here?"

I thought I'd die. I knew who it was without looking. It was the nerd of the world, Curtis Trowbridge, and he was sitting down right next to me. He was the last person I would call a cute boy. Next to Randy, he looked like he belonged in
Mad
magazine. Surely he hadn't thought any of the messages I sent in body language were meant for him. Before I could answer, he sat down. Randy sat down, too, only he sat on the other side of the table next to Taffy.

I was sure he was sitting on that side of the table so he could look at me without being too obvious. He probably didn't want the whole world to know how much he liked me until he had the chance to tell me himself. I didn't want to be obvious, either, so I didn't look up or say anything. Anyway, I had taken an awfully big bite of my sandwich, and I was having trouble chewing it. I tried to be casual as I glanced at Randy's lunch spread out on the table in front of him. He had a bologna sandwich made with whole wheat bread, a package of corn chips, and a piece of chocolate cake. I sighed. For the rest of my life I would never eat anything for lunch except a bologna sandwich made with whole wheat bread, a package of corn chips, and a piece of chocolate cake. I would become a champion bologna sandwich maker! And my chocolate cake! Randy would brag about my delicious chocolate cake to everybody he knew.

"Want to hear some great news?" Curtis was saying to me. In fact, he was practically shouting in my ear. I tried my best to ignore him and concentrate on my sandwich. I certainly didn't want Randy to think I was interested in Curtis or anything he had to say.

"Hey. Are you asleep?" asked Curtis, poking me with an elbow. "I said, I've got great news."

"I heard you," I said, trying to talk without moving my lips. I'd die if Randy saw me having conversation with him.

"What kind of news?" asked Randy. I glanced up and Randy was looking at Curtis as if he were really interested in what he had to say. I couldn't help sighing again. Randy was really a kind and wonderful person. He would be nice to practically anybody. Then I remembered it had been Curtis who had told me about the plan for the big sneeze. Maybe it would be all right to talk to him just this once.

"Wiggins is going to give a prize for the best costume at the Halloween party," he said. You could tell he felt pretty important.

"How do
you
know?" I asked.

"I was getting a drink at the fountain by the principal's office and I heard Wiggins talking to Mrs.
Winchell. She was telling her all about it, only I couldn't hear what the prize was."

"Gee, that's great!" cried Taffy. "I already know what I'm going to be for Halloween and everything."

I wondered what kind of costume Randy would wear. I thought about how much fun it would be if he would get around to telling me how much he liked me by then and we could go together in special costumes like Romeo and Juliet or something. Of course, Mom had already started making my Jolly Green Giant costume. Romeo and the Jolly Green Giant? I'd be so embarrassed I'd die.

Just then I noticed that Curtis Trowbridge was inching closer and closer to me. I started to panic. I was already at the end of the bench. If I scooted away from him, I'd fall on the floor. But if I didn't and Curtis got really close to me, Randy might see it and get the wrong idea. He might think I liked Curtis and not him. Before I could figure out what to do, I heard this giggling and I looked around. I was really sorry I had done that because what I saw was just too awful to be true. My four FORMER friends were all sitting together a couple of tables away. Not only that, but they were the ones who were making all the noise. They were giggling so loud people were starting to notice, and they were pointing straight at me and Curtis Trowbridge
.

I
knew I had to do something and do it fast. Randy was gobbling up his lunch like it was hi
s last meal on earth and not paying
the slightest bit of attention to anything going on in the cafeteria, not even to me. For once I was really glad. Actually, I was thankful. But it couldn't last long. Any minute he would be sure to look up and see Curtis Trowbridge plastered against me and hear my FORMER friends giggling like mad.

I decided to get out of there. Taffy was still eating her little bitty sandwiches and dabbing her mouth with a pink paper napkin after every bite. She looked at me just as I scooped my half-eaten lunch into my lunch bag and stood up.

"I'll meet you on the school ground," I said and then dashed for the
door without waiting for her to
answer.

I felt like an idiot the instant I stepped into the hall, but it was too late to go back. They had tricked me. My four FORMER friends had gotten over being mad at one another, and now they had just ganged up on me again and tricked me into running away and making a fool of myself in front of
Randy Kir
wan. I had noticed they were going around together again, and now I understood why. They were jealous that Randy was crazy about me, and they were doing everything they could to break us up. They had probably
paid
Curtis Trowbridge to sit down by me and scoot closer and closer so that it looked like I liked
him.
Then they made all that commotion to attract Randy's attention.

Well, it hadn't worked, I thought smugly. Randy had just kept right on eating his lunch as if nothing were going on. He had probably seen right through their trick and was ignoring them on purpose. That was it! It had to be. Randy was that kind of person. Remembering that made me feel a lot better.

"Now don't you believe what I said about a cute boy that likes you?" It was Taffy Sinclair and she had come up behind me so quietly that I almost jumped out of my shoes.

"Sure," I said. I was trying to act casual, but I could feel my ears getting hot. Of course, she had been watching me when I sent messages to Randy and Scott and Mark that morning before school, and she had noticed how really good I was at body language. She had probably even noticed that it was Randy who called me over. "I just wish he would get around to telling me how he feels, though," I said with a shrug. "I keep giving him all these opportunities."

Taffy didn't say anything for a moment. Then her face lit up as if she'd just had a brilliant idea. "Maybe he's too shy to say it to your face. Why don't you call him?" she asked brightly.

"Call him!" I said, shrieking. I hadn't meant to say that so loud, but fortunately there was no one else near us. "I can't do that."

"Why not? Girls call boys all the time."

"But what would I say?"

"Just ask him how he feels about you. I know he's dying to tell you. I'd call him for you, b
ut he's already told me that he
likes you once. He would think I was weird if I asked him again."

The more I thought about calling Randy, the more the idea made sense. I was glad Taffy Sinclair had thought of it. All through class that afternoon I planned what I would say. I would call him as soon as I got home from school. Mom would still be at work so I would have plenty of privacy. I would dial his number, and he would answer after the first ring.

"Hello," he would say.

"Hi," I would answer. "This is Jana Morgan."

"Oh, hi, Jana. I'm so glad you called." His voice would be soft and romantic. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you. . . ."

"Class! You are
not
paying attention!" Wiggins thundered the words, breaking into my daydream. She stood at the front of the room and had pulled herself up straight so that she looked about nine feet tall. Her face was an absolute storm cloud. "We'll go over this
one more time
."

I really tried to listen to what she was saying. She was explaining about something called a gerund. She said it was a verb ending in
ing
that was used like a noun. I couldn't help thinking that it was no wonder so many kids had trouble with language arts if some verbs acted like nouns instead of what they really were. Anyway, I concentrated as hard as I could on what she was saying, but I just couldn't keep my mind off Randy and the call I was going to make after school.

"Hello," he would say.

"Hi," I would answer. "This is Jana Morgan."

"Oh, hi, Jana. I'm—I'm so glad you called," he might say shyly and then wait to see what I would say next.

His voice would be so soft and romantic I wouldn't be nervous at all. Then I'd say, "I was wondering if you'd like to tell me how you really feel about me? . . ."

But before he could answer, Wiggins let me have it. "Jana Morgan, will you please wake up and then stand up and give your sentence containing a gerund?" Her voice was so loud it sounded as if it were coming over the PA system, and everybody in the whole sixth grade was staring straight at me.

A gerund. A gerund. My mind was whirling as I tried to stand up, and my ears felt like red-hot pokers stuck to the sides of my head. A verb ending in
ing
that acts like a noun, I reminded myself.

Suddenly I thought of one. "Calling someone on the phone is a good idea," I blurted out, and right away I was sorry I had picked that sentence. I sat down fast, but I could see out of the corner of my eye that Randy was still looking at me. I was so embarrassed I thought I'd die.

I listened to everything that Wiggins had to say for the rest of the afternoon. What else could I do? I had made enough of an idiot of myself for one day. But back in one little wrinkle of my brain a single
thought kept throbbing away.
I was going to call Randy Kirwan after school.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, Wiggins said, "Please remain seated for a moment, class. I have an important announcement to make about the Halloween party. Everyone should help, but I believe we should appoint a committee to head things up. Are there any volunteers?"

Everybody cringed and tried not to look at Wiggins, except Curtis Trowbridge, naturally.

"I will, Miss Wiggins."

"Very good, Curtis. Would anyone else like to work on the committee?"

The silence was deafening. Parties were fun, but working on a committee wasn't, especially a committee with Wiggins and Curtis Trowbridge. I remembered some of the other Halloween parties my FORMER friends and I had gone to, like Beth's last year. The five of us had talked our parents into buying us those
glow-
in-the-dark skeleton costumes, the kind that are black with white bones painted on them and come with a mask that looks like a skull. We thought we would confuse everyone about who we were, and it worked pretty well, except everyone knew right away which one was Melanie. Even in a skeleton costume she looked fat. But all the same, it had been fun.

"Well, class," said Wiggins, "since we don't have any other volunteers, I believe I shall appoint Curtis as chairman and let him choose his own committee. Curtis, who would you like to work with you?"

I grabbed a pencil and ducked down under my desk trying to look as if I were searching for something. When the coast was clear, I planned to come up with the pencil. It may not have been the greatest plan, but it was the best I could come up with on such short notice.

"Jana Morgan."

Curtis Trowbridge might as well have been reading from the obituary column. He had just read my death notice at Mark Twain Elementary. I couldn't stand being seen talking to him again. What would Randy think?

"Taffy Sinclair."

Naturally he picked Taffy. Any boy would. But still it gave me a glimmer of hope. My only friend would be there.

Curtis hesitated for a minute and then said, "Beth Barry."

The glimmer blinked out like a firefly turning off its taillight. Curtis Trowbridge, Taffy Sinclair, Beth Barry, and me, all on the same committee. He couldn't have planned it worse if he had spent a million years.

"Let's see. And I think Sally Schmidt and Randy Kirwan."

Suddenly being on that committee didn't seem so bad. Together Randy and I would plan the greatest Halloween party the school had ever seen. It would go down in history, and Mrs. Winchell, the principal, would probably give us a special award. I could hardly wait.

"I think that's enough, Curtis," said Wiggins. "Why don't you arrange to meet with your committee to discuss decorations and refreshments and let me know what plans you make. Class dismissed."

I hurried to my locker and, of course, that nerd, Curtis Trowbridge, just happened to be there waiting for me.

"Jana, isn't it great that we're going to be on the Halloween committee together?"

"Sure, Curtis. Just great," I mumbled.

Just then I saw my four FORMER friends walking down the hall together. They hadn't seen me yet, and I had to dump Curtis Trowbridge before they did.

"Gee, Curtis," I said with a smirk. 'Why don't you figure out how long it would take to count to five trillion and then go do it." You would have thought that after a crack like that he would have taken the hint, but he didn't. Instead, he started talking about the Halloween committee again.

Good grief, I thought. This could go on forever. Of course, my FORMER friends had seen him by this time, and every few steps one of them would look back over her shoulder and laugh. I realized just then that a person had to be careful with body language. It was really powerful stuff and could work too well. For instance, now Curtis Trowbridge and Randy both liked me. Of course, that only proved what I had known about myself all along, and my FORMER friends were about to find out
!