The Banana Split Affair (8 page)

“Thanks again!” He smiled one of his genuine smiles again. “I really appreciate your help. Hey, can I give you a lift home, Chris?”

“No, thanks. That’s okay. I only live a couple of blocks from here.”

The last thing Susan wanted was for Jason to run into her mother and tell her all about what had happened. She was only too aware of the fact that she had made a terrible mistake by pretending she was Chris. But now it was too late. All she could do was hope things didn’t get any worse.

“All right, then, Chris. Good-bye! I’ll be talking to you!”

You mean you’ll be talking to
Susan,
she thought ruefully. You only
think
you’ll be talking to Christine.

With a heavy heart and a worried look on her face, Susan watched Jason drive away with his crushed fender, then started on her way home.

It wasn’t until she got home that Susan realized she had left her schoolbooks in Jason’s car. And while she had given him her address and telephone number, it had never occurred to her to ask for his.

“Darn!” she said aloud as she paused in her task of setting the table for dinner to wonder how on earth she was going to track him down and get her books back, preferably without anyone in her family knowing about it. Susan cursed herself for behaving in such a typically Susan-ish way. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get away from the good-looking boy, if she had lingered for a few more minutes to flirt with him the way Chris would have, it might have occurred to her to ask Jason for his address and phone number, too.

But no. She had been in her usual hurry to get away from Jason Simms. Was it really because she was embarrassed about being so flip, asking him if he planned to call her up and ask her out? Or was it simply because she had just begun to notice what an attractive, friendly boy Jason was?

“Dam, oh, dam!” she exclaimed again, this time because of her own stupid shyness as well as the fact that she would have to work out a way to retrieve her books.

Her mother overheard her talking to herself and poked her head in from the kitchen.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Mrs. Pratt had taken to calling her daughters dear and honey rather than using their names. That was because she was never completely sure which twin it was that she was speaking to.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Did you say something to me?”

“Am I imagining things, or did I just hear you say ‘Darn!’ as you put down that fork? Is there something about forks that distresses you?”

Susan laughed in spite of herself. “I like forks a lot,” she joked. “They help feed me. And I love anything that helps me eat.”

Susan returned to her table setting, relieved when her mother went back into the kitchen. She was tempted to tell her all about the car accident—and, more important, about how she had given her sister’s name to the police and pretended that she was Christine Pratt instead of Susan. But she had decided not to. As much as she wanted to confide in her parents, to have her mother and father assure her that everything would be all right, she knew that the safest thing to do was wait for a while. She had made a stupid mistake, and she wanted to see if there was any way she could fix things up by herself before confessing to her parents how dumb she had acted.

As she placed the last knife .next to her sister’s plate, the telephone rang in the kitchen. She listened to her mother’s voice mumbling intelligibly into the receiver.

“Susan,” her mother called in, sticking her head out of the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, “it’s for you. That is, it’s someone who wants to speak to Chris.” Mrs. Pratt then diplomatically disappeared into the living room to give her daughter privacy.

“Hello?” Susan said, wondering which of Chris’s countless friends and admirers was calling,

“Hi, is this Chris Pratt?”

“Yes. Who is this, please?” Susan didn’t recognize the male voice at the other end of the line. But then again, one thing she had learned at school that day was that the circles that she and her twin traveled in were so different that she hardly knew any of the same people as Chris.

“This is Jason. Jason Simms. Remember? The car accident?”

“Of course I remember. It’s not every day that I’m the witness to a car crash!”

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that! Otherwise I might think you were some kind of jinx or something!” In a more serious tone he said, “You know, you accidentally left your schoolbooks in my cat And there was so much confusion with the police and that terrible man who ran into me that I just drove off with them without even thinking. Anyway, is it okay if I stop by and drop them off?”

“Sure. That’d be great.”

“Okay. It’s the least I could do for someone who was willing to step forward and bail me out. I’ve got your address, and I have a general idea of where it is. So I’ll come by right after dinner. How about eight o’clock?”

By the time she hung up, Susan’s bad mood had lifted. She felt strangely euphoric, as if someone had just told her the best news in the world. She was glad she’d get her books back so promptly and that she didn’t have to go through the hassle of tracking Jason down. But more than that, she was excited over the prospect of seeing Jason again.

“You’re being silly!” she scolded herself as she ran upstairs to wash her face and comb her back. “Jason Simms is only interested in you as the witness to his car accident. Nothing more!”

Nevertheless, she put on her makeup with extra care and made sure she doused herself with a light, flowery cologne before he came over.

* * * *

Susan was fidgety all through dinner.

“What in the world is
wrong
with you, my dear sister?” Chris pretended to complain. “Do you have ants in your pants? You’re acting as if you’re about to go skydiving for the very first time in your entire life.”

“Maybe I am,” Susan returned with a mysterious smile. “Or maybe I’m just in a good mood today.”

“That reminds me,” their father said. “How did it go today? Did you two masters of disguise—or should I say ‘mistresses of disguise’?—manage to convince everyone at school that Chris was Susan and Susan was Chris?”

“You bet!” they both exclaimed. The twins began an enthusiastic review of the events of the day, laughing and interrupting each other as they shared both the humorous and the nerve-racking experiences with their parents. Susan, of course, made no mention of Jason Simms, the car accident, or the way in which she had used her sister’s name.

When Chris and Susan went into the kitchen together to put the dishes into the sink, Susan said in what she hoped was a casual voice, “Don’t forget, sis. Once we’re alone, I want to hear all about what happened today in art class.”

Chris remained silent. She had intended to repeat every word of the conversation she had had with Keith West to her sister, of course, but now that she was faced with actually having to do it, she felt strange. It was almost as if the time she had spent with him was
special
to her in some way, and to talk about it, to share it with someone else, would be like telling a secret that she had sworn to keep.

But she said, “Oh, sure. Later on, when we’re upstairs, doing our homework.” She was tempted to hold some of the detail back, as if to tell everything was some sort of betrayal. But that was ridiculous, she knew. After all, Susan had had her eye on Keith West for ages. She deserved to know everything that had gone on. Especially since Chris had been posing as Susan!

Promptly at eight, the doorbell rang. Susan, who had been hanging around in the living room to make sure she would be the one to answer the door, called, “I’ll get it!” and quickly flung the door open.

“Hiya, Chris!” Jason grinned.

“Hi, Jason.” Once again Susan was taken aback by the warmth and friendliness that he emanated. “Um, you don’t mind if I don’t ask you in right now, do you? My mother is sick....”

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I mainly wanted to get these back to you.”

He thrust a pile of books at her, the texts and notebooks that she had forgotten on the backseat of his car

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate you driving all the way over here with these.”

“To tell you the truth, there was another reason I wanted to talk to you, besides your books.”

“Really? What?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said before.”

“What do you mean?” Susan couldn’t remember having said anything out of the ordinary to Jason.

“About me wanting your phone number so I could call you and ask you for a date.”

“Oh, that.” Susan could feel herself turning red. But then she remembered that she was supposed to be Chris. Confident, flirty Chris. What would she say in a situation like this?

“And you decided it was a terrific idea, right?”

Jason was a little taken aback. But he stuttered, “Well, uh, as a matter of fact, I did! So how about it? Would you like to go out with me Saturday night?”

Susan couldn’t believe her ears. Jason was asking her out! Here she had met him only today, and he was so interested in her that he wanted to see her again on Saturday. And she had been convinced he thought she was brash!

Then again, it was really Chris that he wanted to go out with. She would be the one to go out on the date, but she would have to pretend she was her sister. Her bold, teasing sister. Would she be able to pull it off? And would she be disappointed, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it was the outgoing Chris’s personality he was attracted to, not the shy, quiet one of Susan, the one she really possessed?

Well, she wasn’t about to start worrying about that now. She flashed on her widest smile and, in her most Chris-like manner, exclaimed, “You’re on, Jason! I’m already counting the minutes until Saturday night!”

Once again Jason looked a little surprised by the tone of her response. But Susan was so excited over the prospect of dating Jason that she didn’t notice. No matter what role she was playing,
she
would be the one to enjoy Jason’s company. She was beginning to see just how much fun it was to be popular with boys. At least, with one she liked as much as Jason Simms!

“Hello again!”

Chris glanced up from the watercolor painting she was working on and found herself face-to-face with Keith West.

“Oh, hi, Keith! I’m sorry I didn’t notice you standing there. I got so absorbed in what I was doing ...”

“So I see.” He grinned. “I’ve been standing here for almost five minutes watching you work.”

“You’ve been watching me work? Whatever for?” Chris was pleased that Keith was taking such a sudden interest. No, silly! she reminded herself. It’s
Susan
he’s taking a sudden interest in. And don’t you forget it!

“It’s fascinating,” replied Keith. “You get so wrapped up in your work, it’s as if you’ve completely forgotten that the rest of the world even exists.”

“That’s because I’m concentrating so hard.” If he only knew! Chris couldn’t help smiling to herself. I
have
to concentrate as hard as I can. That’s because I don’t know what I’m doing!

“Well, whatever your secret is, it sure as heck works!”

Keith twisted his head around so he could get a better view of the half-finished painting on Chris’s desk. He studied it for a minute, then frowned.

“What exactly are you trying to say here, Susan? This is so different from your usual style that it looks as if somebody else did it.”

Chris looked at him sharply. Had he seen through her? Or was he merely making an innocent comment? She answered him cautiously.

“Since this is an experimental project, trying to mix our own colors and all, I decided to try something totally different in terms of my style, too. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, yes!” Keith assured her quickly. “I didn’t say it’s not as good as your usual stuff. I was just surprised to see that you’re so ... versatile.”

Goodness! Chris thought. This Keith really is stuck on Susan! He can find no fault with her, no matter what!

She looked at her painting critically. It was a childlike drawing of a house done in bold strokes of muddy colors. Chris had to admit that no matter how she judged it, it still looked like the first artistic attempt of a five-year-old.

“Yes,” Keith went on, “I always liked that primitive style of art. It’s so honest, so innocent. You’ve really managed to capture that effect well.”

“Thanks, Keith.” Chris smiled at him warmly. “Your opinion means a lot to me.”

After an embarrassing pause during which neither Keith nor Chris could think of anything else to say, Keith said, “Well, I guess I should get back to work. This project is due tomorrow, and I still have a lot to do on it. See you around!”

Chris noticed that he started to walk away from her with some reluctance. A sudden sense of urgency tugged at her

“Hey, Keith, wait a second!”

“Yeah, Susan?”

What am I doing? she thought in horror For a split second she had let her Chris personality take over. She was about to ask Keith if he wanted to have lunch with her sometime. That was the kind of question Chris asked all the time, once she was certain a boy was interested in her but too shy to do anything about it. And it was exactly the kind of thing that her sister Susan would never ask. After all, she had to keep in mind that it was Susan who was talking to Keith West—shy, timid Susan—and not the confident, bold Chris.

“Oh, uh, never mind. I was just going to ask you, uh, if you knew what kind of project Mr. Smith was going to assign next.”

“Nope,” he said with a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.” And he turned away.

Rats! thought Chris, turning back to her painting so she wouldn’t be too conspicuous. It’s obvious that Keith likes Susan. Or at least
me
as Susan. But he
is
shy. Between his shyness and Susan’s shyness, how am I ever going to get them together? How can I possibly get him to ask her out?

Is it Susan you’re so concerned with? asked a devilish little voice inside her as she dreamily stirred her cup of cloudy water with her brush. Is it really your twin sister’s social life you’re so worried about, her long-term crush on Keith West? Or could it possibly be your own that’s making you put so much energy into this?