Nannie had made a special all-red breakfast: bacon, heart-shaped waffles colored red with food coloring, and strawberries. Yum!
“I wish every day was Valentine’s Day,” said Andrew, taking a bite of waffle.
“Me too,” said David Michael. He seemed extra happy this morning. I thought I knew the reason why: He was expecting to find out who his Secret Valentine was today. Suddenly I lost my appetite. I could not finish even one waffle.
Secret Valentines Revealed
I could not think about schoolwork that morning. I wanted our party to begin.
I had not talked to Hannie all morning. We each talked to Nancy, and Nancy talked to both of us, but Hannie and I did not even look at each other. I had hoped that Hannie would tell me she had changed her mind, but she did not.
“Class,” Ms. Colman finally said, “it is time for our party. You may take out your lunches and eat wherever you wish. When you are done with your lunches, we will have punch and dessert. Then we will play games and reveal the identities of our Secret Valentines.”
I jumped up almost before she was finished speaking. Nancy and Hannie and I ate lunch together in the back of the classroom. We ate quietly, since Hannie and I were not speaking.
“I wish you guys would make up,” Nancy complained. “This will not be a very fun party if two of the Musketeers are not speaking.”
Hannie and I did not say anything. Nancy sighed.
Things got better when we had our punch and dessert. One of our room parents had made heart-shaped cookies. Another one had made delicious cupcakes with pink icing and red sprinkles.
Then we played fun games such as tape-the-heart-on-the-person and musical chairs.
Then Ms. Colman clapped her hands and smiled. “All right, class. Now is the moment you’ve all been waiting for.”
I felt a tingle go down my back.
“Please hand out your Valentines now. Remember to sign the one for your Secret Valentine,” Ms. Colman said.
I ran to my desk and pulled out a stack of Valentines. I had made a small Valentine for every single person in my class. I had made extra-nice ones for Ms. Colman, Ricky, and, of course, Hannie and Nancy. (But I had not brought Hannie’s.) I had also made a very nice card for my Secret Valentine, Pamela. When she was across the room, I put it on her desk, along with the barrette. I had wrapped it in red-and-white paper.
I kept looking over at my desk. A growing pile of Valentines was on it. One of them was from my Secret Valentine. I could not wait to find out who it was. And who was Nancy’s? Why had he or she done such a bad job?
Soon Ms. Colman called, “Is everyone done?”
“Yes!” we all cried.
“Then you may sit down and open your Valentines,” she said.
I raced to my desk and sat down. The first thing I did was count all my Valentines. I had sixteen! I found one from Nancy and opened it. She had made it herself. It was very beautiful. My name was written on it in pink sparkly glitter. I love glitter. It makes things look fancy.
I got Valentines from everyone in my class (except Hannie). Then, at the very bottom of my pile, I found my Secret Valentine’s gift. I opened it.
“Yes!” I cried. It was a pair of white tights with green shamrocks on them for St. Patrick’s Day. They were beautiful. My Secret Valentine must know me very well, to know just what I would like. I turned the card over. It said, “Happy Valentine’s Day from your Secret Valentine. Pamela Harding.”
Well, for heaven’s sake. We had been each other’s Secret Valentines! I could not believe it. She had been a very good Secret Valentine.
“Ms. Colman,” said Omar Harris. “Something strange happened. I have two Secret Valentines.”
“Really?” said Ms. Colman. She came to his desk and looked at his two cards. Then she looked around the class. “Who was Omar’s Secret Valentine?”
Leslie Morris raised her hand. “I was.”
“No, I was,” said Terri Barkan. “I had Omar’s name.”
“Oh, my goodness,” said Ms. Colman. “There has been a mix-up. Are there any other Valentine problems?”
In the back of the room, Nancy raised her hand. “I have gotten some things from a Secret Valentine,” she said. “But today there is no card saying who it was.”
I put my hand over my mouth and looked at Hannie. She looked back at me. Neither one of us had gotten Nancy anything for today.
“Who is Nancy’s Secret Valentine?” Ms. Colman asked. No one said anything.
“Hmm,” said Ms. Colman. “This is very strange. I will start at the beginning.”
Ms. Colman went down the roll. Terri had drawn Omar’s name. Tammy had drawn her twin, Terri. I had drawn Pamela. (I looked over at her, and she held up her hair barrette and smiled.) I was glad she liked it.
Nancy had drawn Addie Sidney.
Sara had drawn Natalie Springer.
Bobby had drawn Hank Reubens.
Jannie had drawn Audrey Green.
Audrey had drawn Ricky Torres. (Boo and bullfrogs.)
Pamela had drawn me.
Omar had drawn Hannie.
Ian had drawn Tammy Barkan.
Chris had drawn Ian Johnson.
Leslie had drawn Omar too!
Hannie had drawn Sara Ford.
Hank had drawn Jannie Gilbert.
Addie had drawn Leslie Morris.
Natalie had drawn Chris Lamar.
Ricky had drawn Bobby Gianelli.
But no one had drawn Nancy!
“I am very sorry, Nancy,” said Ms. Colman. “I must have made a mistake when I wrote out the slips.”
“But I did get a few things,” said Nancy, looking confused.
“We sent them,” I admitted. “Hannie and I. We felt bad that you weren’t getting any surprises.”
Nancy smiled. “Thanks.”
Then Omar offered to give Nancy one of his cards and a gift. Nancy took them happily, even though they said “To Omar” on them. Guess what her gift was? Mitten clips. Nancy would never misplace her mittens again.
“Thank you, Omar,” said Ms. Colman. “I apologize again, Nancy.”
“I still have a problem,” said Pamela, raising her hand. “I have gotten some nice things and some mean things, too. Karen was my Secret Valentine. I think she should apologize for the mean things.”
“I did not send anything mean,” I said firmly. “I sent only nice things. I promise.”
“We will have to get to the bottom of this mystery,” said Ms. Colman. “But right now we need to clean up our party things. It is time for our spelling lesson.”
Rats, I thought. Our Valentine’s Day party was over.
The Mystery Solved
During recess that day I showed Nancy my new tights with the shamrocks.
“I cannot wait for St. Patrick’s Day,” I said.
“You should apologize,” Pamela said in back of me.
I turned around. Pamela was wearing her new barrette, but she looked angry. Jannie Gilbert and Leslie Morris were with her. Pamela held up a dog biscuit. “You put this in my desk today.”
“No, I did not.” I said. Someone else must have put it there.”
Pamela stepped so close to me that our noses were almost touching. I glared at her and put my hands on my hips.
“Oh, yeah?” she said.
“Yeah!” I said.
“Um, actually …” said Jannie softly.
“Not now, Jannie,” snapped Pamela.
“Well, I just wanted to say …” mumbled Jannie. “That, um, actually, it was …”
Her voice grew softer and softer. I could hardly hear her.
Pamela and I turned to look at Jannie. She seemed embarrassed.
“It was … me,” she whispered.
“What?” asked Pamela.
“I sent you those things,” admitted Jannie. “I was the mean Secret Valentine.”
Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
Pamela’s mouth looked like an O. �
�Why?” she said.
“I was mad at you for telling me to be quiet after Karen hit you with the snowball,” admitted Jannie. “I knew Karen was your Secret Valentine, since she asked everyone to trade. I thought she might get into trouble instead of me.”
“You sent me the mean poems and the wilted flowers and the yucky bug? And this dog biscuit?” Pamela said. “I cannot believe it.”
Jannie looked miserable.
You will never guess what happened next.
Pamela started laughing. I stared at her.
“Jannie, you are a nut,” said Pamela.
“You are not mad at me?” said Jannie.
“Well, maybe a little,” said Pamela. “But … sending all those notes, trying to get Karen in trouble …” She started laughing again.
I did not think it was funny. I thought Pamela should be mad at Jannie.
Pamela turned to me. “I am sorry I blamed you, Karen.”
“Sure,” I said. I crossed my arms and walked away. Behind me I could hear Pamela laughing again. If you ask me, both Pamela and Jannie are nutty.
Be My Valentine
Riding home on the school bus that day was not much fun. Hannie and I were still fighting. David Michael was waiting at home for his Secret Valentine, who would never come. I did not feel like rehearsing for the Icebreakers that afternoon because of Hannie. But the show was on Sunday.
I sighed and leaned my head against the bus window. I thought about asking Hannie one last time if she would be David Michael’s Secret Valentine. But I did not. I knew what her answer would be. Plus, she would just get mad all over again.
When the bus dropped us off, we went to our own houses without saying good-bye.
* * *
Upstairs in my room I pulled out David Michael’s card and gift. I had signed the card from Hannie. I could not give it to David Michael now. What about the gift? Perhaps it would help cheer him up when he found out about his Secret Valentine.
I decided to give him the gift and admit that I had sent all those cards. Now both David Michael and Hannie would be mad at me. Great. I sighed. How do I get myself into these things?
I picked up his gift and headed downstairs.
“The mail’s here!” called Kristy as she came in the front door.
David Michael ran into the front hallway from the kitchen. I stood on the stairs with his gift hidden behind my back.
“Let me see, let me see,” cried David Michael.
“Okay, mail hog,” said Kristy with a laugh.
David Michael pawed through the mail. I knew there would be no card from Hannie. I got ready to give him his gift.
“Yes!” said David Michael, pulling out a pink envelope.
I was surprised.
He ripped open the envelope and read the card. He smiled.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A card from my Secret Valentine,” he said smugly.
“Wha … ? Who is it?”
“Margo Pike,” he said.
Margo goes to David Michael’s school.
“Margo Pike? But I thought you liked Hannie,” I said.
“Oh, that was before,” he said. “Now I like Margo. And I guess she likes me.”
This had been the most confusing Valentine’s Day ever. Nancy had not had a Secret Valentine. Omar had had two. Hannie and I had gotten into a fight. Pamela and I had been each other’s Secret Valentines, but we still did not like each other. Jannie had been the Secret meanie-mo Valentine. David Michael had liked Hannie, but now he liked Margo. I had bought David Michael a gift that he did not need.
I felt as if I needed to sit down.
Slowly I backed upstairs, still hiding the Galaxy Man floating power surfboard. I could save the gift for David Michael’s birthday.
Then I had a wonderful thought: There was no need for Hannie and me to be mad at each other anymore!
* * *
“I am very sorry I tried to make you David Michael’s Valentine,” I said.
I had run to Hannie’s house and explained the whole thing to her. And I had given her the special Valentine I had made for her. You know what? She had saved my Valentine, too.
“I like the gold glitter,” I said. “This is a very beautiful card. Thank you.”
“Mine is beautiful, too,” said Hannie. “I am glad you did not really throw it away.”
I knew that we had truly made up.
Now Hannie and I were on our way to our rehearsal.
I skipped along happily in the snow.
The Icebreakers
“Three dollars, please,” said Nancy. We sat on stools by the driveway gate, selling tickets. It was almost time for the amazing Icebreakers premiere.
I was in my Evil Girl costume. I thought I looked very cool. I wore white ice skates, black leggings, a black sweatshirt, black gloves, and a black cape made from a towel.
Several people walking by had seen our large Icebreakers sign. That meant we would have a bigger audience. I love performing in front of a crowd.
“Attention, everyone!” said Melody. She blew a whistle. “Please take your seats. The show is about to begin.”
I said good-bye to Nancy and hurried to the garage. (All of us performers would wait in the garage.) We had set up lawn chairs and folding chairs in rows outside around the backyard rink. Linny was standing on a box in front.
In the garage, we all wished each other good luck. Hannie and I crossed our fingers. I was so happy we were not mad at each other anymore.
Melody started the music and the audience clapped. I could see everyone in my big-house family, and also Mommy and Seth. It was so gigundoly exciting that I could hardly keep still.
“Once there was a poor boy,” Linny began.
Our show had begun.
* * *
“Take that, Evil Girl!” cried Hannie, the Girl Police Officer.
Hannie pretended to take away my evil powers. She locked them in a box.
“Do not take away my powers!” I cried. “I will be weak!”
“Fine with me,” said Hannie. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You belong in jail anyway.”
“Oh, no!” I cried. Slowly I skated toward the end of the rink. I crouched down and pretended to be weak. Then, when I was gliding along very, very slowly, I fell over onto my side. (This did not hurt.) “Alas!” I said. “Without my evil powers I am nothing. Oh, no!” Then Hannie and Scott dragged me away and put me in jail. I sat up and shook my fist at them.
“She will not cause any more trouble now,” said Hannie. “Ever again!”
The Rich Girl and the ex-Poor Boy celebrated and talked about all the wonderful things they would do now that I was in jail.
Finally Linny said, “The end.”
The audience clapped and clapped. We took turns bowing to our fans. Then we held hands and bowed together. Hannie and I were standing next to each other. Nancy was in the audience, clapping for us.
The Three Musketeers were together again. Yea!
About the Author
ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.
Copyright © 1997 by Ann M. Martin
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, 1997
e-ISBN 978-1-338-06014-0
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