Holly's Heart Collection One (49 page)
I stared at Phil while his eyes did a roller-coaster number. Mark lay on the floor, laughing hysterically as I quickly pushed the off button.
“What’s wrong with Elaine Thomas?” I asked. “She sounded okay to me.”
“She’s a toidi!” yelled Phil.
“Yeah,” shouted Mark.
“Toidi—toidi—toidi—toidi,” chanted the boys.
“Sounds like I should flush your mouths out,” I said, watching as Phil and his younger brother acted weird. “Okay, okay. What’s a toidi?” I asked.
“Idiot spelled backward,” said Phil, cackling.
Never ask,
I thought.
Never ask.
I headed back to the kitchen. How did Uncle Jack put up with all this grade-school nonsense? Aunt Marla was in heaven, but her kids needed her down here—learning about “toidi” and other major stuff. I missed her.
Swishing the kitchen counter clean, I wondered how Daddy’s sister would feel if she knew Uncle Jack was dating my mother. Two times in one week!
THE TROUBLE WITH WEDDINGS
The next morning I beat Andie to Mr. Ross’s classroom. “Good morning,” I said, standing beside his long desk. “Here’s my essay.”
Mr. Ross pushed his drooping glasses up his shiny nose.
Without saying a word, he read the entire essay as I stood like a statue, waiting. Slowly, he placed the paper on his desk and removed his glasses. “This essay is unusually well written, Miss Meredith.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I hope you are taking one of Miss Wannamaker’s creative writing classes this semester. She impresses me as a teacher who might assist a talented young person such as yourself.”
I nodded. “Yes, I enjoy her classes very much.”
“Very well,” he said, putting his glasses back on. “Have you had breakfast today?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I had a fabulous breakfast.” Then I added, “My mom’s a great cook,” in case he had any more notions of contacting a social worker.
Andie arrived, bringing the bustling sounds of the congested hallway in with her. She flashed a smile when she saw me and headed for Mr. Ross. He adjusted his tie, the same boring one he’d worn the whole first month of school.
Andie didn’t wait for Mr. Ross to read her essay; she laid it on his desk and left. “What’s your rush?” I asked as she zipped past me.
“Gotta do a little spying. On Stan.”
“What’ll Billy say if he finds out?”
She stopped in the middle of the hall. “Will he even notice?”
“Are you kidding?” I pulled her away from the crush of the crowd. “Billy really likes you, Andie.”
“Not half as much as I like Stan.”
I wanted to slap some sense into her. “You’re wacko if you hurt Billy’s feelings for a schizoid.”
“What’s
that
mean?” she asked, leaning against the wall.
“Schizoid?” I laughed. “You know, split personality. Sometimes cool, sometimes a total jerk.”
“No way, not Stan. He’s so together.” She cracked her gum.
“Oh please,” I said. “I oughta know, don’t you think? The guy’s a jerk.”
“He can’t be
that
bad.”
“You’ll see.”
“Worse than Jared?”
“Almost.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said and scurried off.
I trotted down the hall. Then I spotted the number-one jerk of all time—Jared Wilkins—waiting at my locker.
“What do
you
want?” I said, reaching for my combination.
“Nothin’ much.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Just wondering what you’re doing.”
“What’s it look like?” I stared at him, annoyed.
“You seem upset. Everything okay?”
“Till
you
showed up, everything was perfect.”
“Holly, listen, I’m not here to cause trouble for you and Danny. It’s my own fault the two of you are so, well…happy together.” His dancing blue eyes looked surprisingly serious for a change. “I miss you, Holly-Heart.”
I could hardly find the numbers on my combination lock.
Where is Danny, anyway?
If he was here, like he always was before school, this conversation wouldn’t be happening. I looked up to tell Jared to get lost, but he was gone.
At lunch Danny was waiting for me inside the cafeteria doors. “Ready for volleyball practice?”
“I can hardly wait.” I grabbed a tray and got in line. “What’s for hot lunch?”
“Some pasta dish.” He reached for a tray.
“I’m starved.” I saw Mr. Ross peek into the cafeteria. “Guess I better not say that too loud. Mr. Ross might have me hauled off to a foster home.”
“That’s not funny,” Danny said as we moved through the cafeteria line. He reached for a tuna sandwich and an apple. Healthy foods.
“What did you mean about a foster home?” Danny asked, frowning at my choice of pasta and soda.
“Just forget it.” I walked to a table and sat down.
Danny set his tray down beside me. “Is something wrong?” he whispered.
“Not really,” I said, but it wasn’t true. I could still hear Jared’s words from this morning.
“I miss you, Holly-Heart.”
And he’d said it so seriously. Not playfully like always before.
“You’re upset,” Danny said before we bowed our heads and he prayed over our lunches. I said amen at the end.
Salting my pasta, I asked where he was this morning before school. “You always show up at my locker first thing.”
“You shouldn’t salt your food before tasting it,” he said, criticizing me instead of listening to what I said.
“Where
were
you?” I repeated.
“Billy and I shot baskets over at the gym.” He bit into his tuna sandwich, lettuce and all.
“Andie’s making a big mistake if she chooses to like another guy more than Billy. He’s so good to her.” I twirled noodles around my fork.
Danny looked surprised. “This is news. Is Andie thinking about someone other than Billy?”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “Didn’t I tell you? She’s got her eyes on my cousin Stan, but he couldn’t care less. He has a girlfriend back East.
Besides that, Stan’s nothing like he used to be. Maybe it’s Aunt Marla’s death, I don’t know. But he’s turned into a splitzo schizoid.”
“A what?”
“A split personality.”
“Hey, nobody’s perfect,” Danny said, chuckling.
His attitude was starting to bug me. I would have thought he’d stick up for Billy—and for me!
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” I said.
Danny frowned. “What’s this
side
stuff? Holly, are you feeling okay?”
I spun around. “Can we just not talk about Stan anymore?”
Danny raised his eyebrows. “If he’s the reason you’re upset, why don’t you talk to him about it? Proverbs says, ‘An offended brother is more unyielding than a fortified city—’ ”
“Stan’s
not
my brother.” I jumped to my feet. “And why do you have to preach to me? I’m a Christian just like you. First you lecture me about what I eat, and now you tell me what to do with Stan. It’s starting to bug me.”
Danny stretched his hand toward me. “I didn’t intend to hurt you. I only want to help.”
I waved him away. “That’s not how it sounds. You’re trying to run my life.” Turning away, I hurried to the girls’ rest room. There, I scowled at the mirror, then fished for the brush in my backpack.
I started rearranging my hair, beginning with the part. I cringed with every stroke of the brush. How dare Danny Myers treat me like I was a spiritual baby. I bet
he
didn’t have a secret prayer list or write in the margins of his devotional. Just because we were hanging out together didn’t give him the right to act like this.
I marched off to my composition class in a huff.
Jared was waiting by the door as I hurried to snag my favorite seat…beside the window. He followed me into Miss Wannamaker’s room. “May I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the desk beside mine. He actually waited until I nodded before sitting down.
“Thanks,” he said, like it was a great privilege. His eyes lit up like, uh…kind of like Mom’s had yesterday when we talked about Uncle Jack.
I swallowed hard. Could Jared Wilkins really and truly care for me? I pushed the ridiculous thought from my mind as I reached for my three-ring binder.
“Dear class,” Miss Wannamaker said as if beginning a letter. It was her way every day. “Today we shall discuss the proper outlining procedure for research papers.”
I found the yellow tab marking the “Comp I” section in my binder and set out to take the best notes ever. After her lecture, Miss W gave us twenty minutes to begin the assignment—an eight-hundred-word essay or short story about any aspect of a metamorphosis, human or otherwise. It was due in two weeks.
First I looked up
metamorphosis
in
Webster’s Dictionary.
It meant “A complete change of a substance, structure, or shape.”
Hmm, what to write about? Staring out the window, I watched as golden aspen leaves shimmered in the autumn breeze. A transformation of color. My eyes wandered to the top of Copper Mountain. Years before, men had sliced a path through the tree-covered slopes, transforming the mountain into a skier’s paradise. Nope, I wouldn’t write a nature essay. Not this time.
I let my eyes wander slightly to my left. There sat Jared, his pen racing across the blank page.
What if?
I thought. What if I let my imagination run wild? What if I transformed Jared Wilkins into a polite, trustworthy,
true
friend? A magical metamorphosis, but on paper only.
Delighted with my idea, I set to work, using Jared’s name just to help me relate more closely to the final fictitious character. I would change all names to fictitious ones later, of course.
Finishing the first paragraph, I set my pen down and sneaked a glance at Jared. I grinned at the thought of transforming him. The idea excited me more than I cared to admit.
THE TROUBLE WITH WEDDINGS
One week later—two days before Carrie’s birthday party—I arrived at school a bit late. Andie stood waiting for me in the main hall, near the front doors. “Where’ve you been?” she said, biting her nails. “I thought you were sick or something. I even looked in your locker and—”
“You opened my locker?” I said, moving through the crowd of kids in the hall, hoping she hadn’t snooped
too
much.
“I oughta know your combination by now, don’t you think?” She stayed close to the wall to avoid mad scramblers headed for lockers, homerooms, you name it.
“Have you opened my locker before?” I asked, feeling uneasy, wondering if she’d discovered my writing assignment. It was nearly finished, and no way did I want
anyone
but Miss Wannamaker to see the finished product.
She looked at me, surprised. “Well, we
are
best friends.”
“I know, Andie. It’s no big deal,” I said, playing it down in case she picked up on my concern and suspected something. Still, I dashed to my locker, which was hanging open. “Andie, you left my locker open!”
“I did?”
“You just said you opened it.” I hoped she was the
only
one snooping around. There was top-secret stuff in there.
“Sorry,” Andie said. “Guess I was just in a hurry to find you.”
I shook my head, fuming at her. “There’s no excuse for irresponsibility,” I muttered, reaching for my three-ring binder. I flipped it open to the yellow tab marked “Comp I” and noticed two pages were out of order. Maybe I had mixed them up myself. I grabbed my science book and closed my locker. “Why were you looking for me before?”
“I wanted to ask you something about Stan,” she said, starryeyed.
I should’ve known.
Between Andie and Kayla, I almost wished Uncle Jack and my cousins had stayed in Pennsylvania. Well, not really—then Mom wouldn’t be having fun going on dates with Uncle Jack…and I wouldn’t be ready for a new tax bracket, thanks to all the baby-sitting money I was hauling in.
“Just tell me one thing,” Andie continued. “Is Stan going to the ice-cream social on Saturday?” She grabbed my arm. “Because if he is, I need a new outfit.”
“You do not,” I said. “Besides, he doesn’t even know about it. Uncle Jack’s been trying out different churches since they moved here.”
“Can’t
you
invite him?” she pleaded.
“I could, but I won’t.” I headed for science class and opened the door to the stairwell. There stood Kayla. “Hey,” I said, brushing past her on my way to first period. She’d been driving me crazy, too, with her phone calls every single night of my life since our chat in front of the Soda Straw last week.
“Wait…Holly!” Kayla called, running up the stairs after me. “Will you give this to Stan for me?” She held out an envelope, sealed and addressed with his name.
“Why me?” I stared at it. A hint of sweet perfume rose out of the paper.
Andie pushed past me, scowling at Kayla. “Leave Stan alone!” Andie said.
Kayla’s note to Stan fell to the steps.
“Excuse me!” I said, scurrying up the steps, leaving Andie and Kayla alone with their common misery.
