Taffy Sinclair 005 - Blackmailed by Taffy Sinclair

by Betsy Haynes

  Just then, I felt a poke in my ribs. I looked up and Melanie was pointing toward the bicycle rack.

  "Look! There's Randy, and he's talking to Taffy Sinclair."

  I heard my pencil clunk as it fell onto my open math book. Slowly, I turned and looked toward the bicycle rack. It was Randy and Taffy, all right. They were standing there talking to each other and acting as if they were really interested in what the conversation was about.

  "What do you think they're talking about?" I whispered.

  Katie tried to reassure me. "Probably not vou. Maybe they're discussing the weather or what they had for lunch."

  "Fat chance," I muttered. She's probably telling Randy that I'm the sixth-grade thief, and that she's some kind of heroine for catching me, but that she's too kind-hearted to turn me in."

  Nobody said anything to that. I knew they all were thinking the same thing. Everybody knows that Taffy has a crush on Randy and that she'd love to take him away from me.

  "Maybe they'll catch the real thief soon," offered Christie.

  I was glad that she was trying to make me feel better, but it was no use. There was a lump growing in my throat that was the size of a tennis ball already.

  "Maybe," I mumbled and went back to working my problems. I hardly knew what I was doing, and I finished them in about half my regular time.

  When everybody else was finished, I started copying the answers off for Taffy. I couldn't stop thinking about Randy and Taffy being together. My eyes were swimming with tears, but I kept on writing anyway, even though everything got so blurry that I had to guess what numbers to put down. I wanted to get it over with as soon as I could, and I honestly didn't realize that I copied every single answer wrong.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When I went to Taffy Sinclair's locker after school to give her the homework, Alexis Duvall was there. Fortunately, Taffy's locker is near a drinking fountain so I stopped at it and hung around waiting for Alexis to leave. I certainly didn't want her to know that I was doing Taffy's homework. I was still feeling rotten about seeing Taffy and Randy together during lunch period so I didn't pay any attention to what they were saying at first. Then Alexis said something that I couldn't help but hear, and I stood up fast and nearly spit out a whole mouthful of water.

  "Come on, Taffy. Tuesday you said you knew who the thief is. Why won't you tell?"

  Taffy didn't answer for a moment. I didn't know if she saw me standing by the drinking fountain or if she was just being a smarty, the way she usually was. I didn't want to hear what she was going to say next, but I couldn't stand to miss it, either.

  "What do you think I am? A tattletale?" Taffy asked in a pouty voice.

  "Gosh, no," said Alexis, "but if there's a real thief in the sixth grade and you know who it is, you ought to tell. Whoever it is might steal something else."

  "So?"

  I glanced at them out of the corner of my eye, and Taffy was giving Alexis an icy look. Alexis shrugged and walked away. I stood there for a minute trying to figure out what I had just heard. Taffy had almost acted as if she were trying to protect me. I shook my head. That couldn't be it. Taffy Sinclair would never protect me in a million years.

  "Oh, Jana. There you are."

  It was Taffy. She had spotted me.

  "Do you have my homework?"

  "Here," I said, handing it to her.

  She took it, and, of course, she didn't say thank you. I wanted to ask her why she had been so nasty to Alexis, but I couldn't. Part of me didn't really want to know.

  "Don't forget," she cautioned as she slipped the homework paper into her notebook. "I'll be waiting right here for you tomorrow after school."

  Fat chance I could forget. I thought about Taffy and her lousy homework all the time. I thought about it all evening when I was supposed to be doing my other homework and after I went to bed. I was also thinking about Randy Kirwan. I knew I had lost him, and it wasn't fair. I knew he would never call and ask me for pizza again. Our romance was over. And yet, I hadn't done anything wrong. I had found a crummy wallet. That was all. It was Taffy Sinclair who was doing something wrong. And look at what she's getting out of it, I thought. Free math homework and my boyfriend!

  School the next morning started out just like any other day. Wiggins took roll, made announcements, collected lunch money, and then started the math lesson. Everyone passed their homework papers to the front of the room at the beginning of the period the way we always do. Then Wiggins explained the day's lesson and we worked practice problems while she corrected the homework. Just before the period ended, she handed back the papers.

  I barely glanced at mine. I knew I had gotten them all right. My friends and I had double-checked each answer yesterday. I heard a shuffling noise up near the front of the room and looked in that direction. It was Taffy Sinclair. She had turned around in her seat and was looking straight at me. She looked so mad that I wouldn't have been surprised if she had started breathing fire and smoke. I swallowed hard. I couldn't imagine what was wrong with her, but there was no doubt about it. She was furious, and the person she was furious at was me.

  My friends all noticed Taffy, too. During the next period they kept shooting puzzled glances at me as if to ask if I knew what was wrong with her. I shrugged. Of course I didn't. What I did know was that Taffy had gotten mad right after Wiggins handed the math homework back, and I had a terrible feeling that it was more than just a coincidence.

  I was right. Taffy was waiting outside the door for me at recess. She started shouting, and I could tell that she didn't care if anybody heard.

  "Jana Morgan! I want to talk to you!"

  I hurried over to her before she had time to shout anything else. "What's the matter?" I asked.

  "This is what's the matter," she said in a growly voice and stuffed a crumpled paper into my hand.

  "Let's go over here where we can have some privacy," I suggested and began moving toward the playground fence. My heart was racing. I couldn't imagine what she was going to say next.

  Taffy stomped along behind me, and as soon as we got to the fence I spread out the paper and looked at it. I blinked and looked at it again. I couldn't believe it. Every single problem had been checked wrong! And Wiggins had written a big fat zero in red ink at the top of the page.

  "This is impossible!" I shrieked. "All the answers were double-checked. They were right."

  "Oh, yeah?" Taffy challenged. "Then why did Wiggins mark them all wrong?"

  "I'll prove it to you when we get back into the room. I'll show you my paper. I got one hundred. They were the same answers that I gave you. I swear they were."

  "They couldn't be," said Taffy.

  "But they are!" I insisted.

  Very slowly Taffy pulled another paper out of her jacket pocket. It was the homework sheet I had given her the day before. "Look for yourself," she said angrily.

  I took the paper and opened it. I was afraid to look, but I knew that I had to. Glancing down the page, I felt my throat tighten. Taffy was right. It had the same answers on it as the paper Wiggins had marked a zero.

  "Taffy, honest," I protested. "I don't know what happened. It was a mistake. It had to be."

  "I don't believe you, Jana Morgan. You did it on purpose. I know you did. Don't you know that I could have told on you? I could have gone straight to Wiggins or Mrs. Winchell right after I saw you with that wallet. I could have even gone to the POLICE." Taffy paused, giving me the worst poison-dart look I had ever seen. She had moved so close to me that her nose was practically touching mine. Then her expression changed to a nasty smile, and she said, "I still could."

  I knew she was right. She could tell on me any time she wanted to. A picture of me sitting in a jail cell flooded my mind again, and my heart was pounding so hard that I almost didn't hear my own words when they came out. "I'm sorry, Taffy. I was telling the truth when I said I don't know what happened. You've got to believe me. I promise that it won't ever happen again."

  "You're ri
ght. It won't ever happen again, because you won't be doing my math homework anymore."

  "I won't?" I whispered.

  "No," Taffy said before I had time to wonder why or feel relieved. "Meet me outside the cafeteria door when the lunch bell rings. I have something else for you to do, but don't think you're getting lucky. Because of what you did to my homework, the price of my silence has just gone up."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Taffy left me standing there alone, and an instant later my four best friends rushed up.

  "What's going on?" asked Christie. "Taffy really looked mad."

  "She is mad," I assured them. Then I went on to tell them about the math homework. "I don't know what happened. I copied the answers for Taffy from the problems we had worked and . . ." My voice trailed off as I suddenly remembered what had been going on the day before. Taffy had been talking to Randy, and he had been listening as if she were saying something terribly important. It had made my eyes fill up with tears, but I had gone right on copying the answers anyway. Was that what happened? Had I missed seeing the mistakes I was making on Taffy's homework because I was looking through tears? I sighed. I didn't want to admit that even to my friends.

  "It serves her right," said Christie.

  The others agreed.

  "Anyway," I went on. "Taffy said the price of her silence has gone up. I'm supposed to meet her outside the cafeteria door at lunchtime."

  "Don't worry, Morgan," said Beth. "We'll go with you. She can't do anything really bad with all of us along."

  "No," I said quickly. "I don't know what she's got up her sleeve, but I'd better go alone. She might get even madder if you guys were there. Then there's no telling what she might do."

  I fidgeted in my seat all through the rest of the morning classes. I couldn't imagine what Taffy was planning for me, but she had said that it was worse than doing her homework. When the lunch bell finally rang, I hurried to the cafeteria without even stopping by my locker to pick up my lunch. I wasn't the least bit hungry. The smell of Alpo—that's what the kids call the school's meatloaf—was so strong I could have closed my eyes and navigated using only my nose.

  I had barely gotten there when Taffy came sauntering up. She stopped and looked around at the kids streaming into the lunchroom. Hot lunch kids were jumping into line in front of the steam tables, and cold lunch kids were scrambling around to find their favorite seats. The room was filling up fast.

  Just when I thought I'd explode if Taffy didn't tell me what this was all about, she turned and handed me a hot lunch ticket. "Here," she said. "I'll find us a table while you go get my tray."

  "What!" I cried. "I'm not going to get your lunch tray. What do you think I am, your servant?"

  Taffy smiled her nastiest smile. "Exactly," she said. Then she pranced into the cafeteria and left me standing there with her hot lunch ticket burning a hole in my hand.

  I didn't see where she sat down. I didn't see anything except bright reds and greens and yellows exploding like fireworks before my eyes. Her servant! How dare she tell me that I had to be her servant and bring her lunch tray to her? Who did she think she was, anyway? I wanted to tear that lunch ticket into a million pieces. Then I wanted to stir every one of those million pieces into the goopy mashed potatoes and the carrot and raisin salad and all the other gross things the cafeteria served. But a little voice in my head reminded me that if I didn't do what Taffy Sinclair ordered me to do, I would be in a lot of trouble, so I scuffed into the cafeteria and got in line with the hot lunch kids.

  "Hey, Jana. What are you doing in the hot lunch line? I thought you always brought your lunch." It was Joel Murphy. He was standing just ahead of me in line.

  I shrugged and turned my back on him. I certainly wasn't going to tell him that I was getting a tray for Taffy Sinclair. He'd probably see me when I took it to her, but I wasn't about to admit it out loud.

  I looked across the room. My friends were sitting at our usual table. They were looking at me, and I could tell that they were wondering what was going on, too. This is awful, I thought. It was bad enough when I had to do her homework, but at least then nobody knew. Here I am standing here in front of the whole school being her servant. I felt as if I were on stage.

  A minute later I saw Taffy. She had gotten a table near the door where everybody would have to pass by and see us as they went out. Mona Vaughn had just sat down beside her, and they were talking. Why doesn't she let Mona be her servant? I thought. Mona would be glad to do it. Mona Vaughn was really the only friend that Taffy had, and poor, ugly Mona in her old, ratty clothes followed Taffy around like Mary's little lamb. She worshipped the very ground Taffy walked on, and she would probably consider it a privilege to carry Taffy's tray.

  By the time I picked up Taffy's lunch and was heading toward her table, Mona was gone. I walked as fast as I could without spilling anything. I wanted to get this moment over with as quickly as possible. Most kids were busy eating and talking to other kids around them. I prayed that they weren't paying any attention to me or what I was doing. I knew my friends were looking. I could see the shocked looks on their faces out of the corner of my eye.

  That cafeteria seemed miles long. I thought I was going to walk forever holding that hot lunch tray out in front of me. Taffy was watching me come toward her. She had a look of satisfaction on her face.

  "Here," I said, setting the tray down so hard that the silverware rattled. "Now I'm going to sit with my friends." I wanted to get away from her as fast as I could. I could see that lots of kids were looking at me, after all. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life.

  "No, you aren't," she said sweetly. I couldn't believe the smile on her face. "Sit down with me so that everybody will think we're friends."

  I didn't sit down. I glared at her instead. "Why would I want that?"

  Taffy took a dainty bite of her goopy mashed potatoes before she answered. "If you act mad at me, somebody might remember that I know who the sixth-grade thief is and put two and two together."

  I felt as if I were sinking into quicksand as I dropped slowly onto the bench across the table from Taffy. She had me. There was nothing I could do but go along. I pasted a fake smile on my face and said between gritted teeth. "I'll get you, Taffy Sinclair, if it's the last thing I ever do."

  Taffy didn't answer. She just went right on taking teensie little bites of her lunch and looking up at me and smiling as if we were super friends. I couldn't believe it. She had to be the greatest actress in the world.

  "Won't it be fun?" she asked brightly.

  "Won't what be fun?" I muttered.

  "Pretending we're friends. We can walk back and forth to school together. And we can spend recess together. And, of course, we'll have lunch together every day."

  I knew what she was getting at. It was her way of telling me that I would be carrying her hot lunch tray every single day. She was also saying that I would have to humiliate myself by making people think I liked her. It was absolutely the worst thing Taffy Sinclair had ever done to me.

  "Don't think that you can get away with this," I said, giving her a big toothy grin for the benefit of anyone who might be watching us.

  Taffy laughed and patted her lips with her paper napkin. "I'm finished eating now," she said. "Since we're such good friends, I know you're going to want to take my dirty dishes to the tray return, aren't you?" She actually purred.

  I couldn't answer. If I had opened my mouth to speak, something awful would probably have come out. Instead, I stood up and squared my shoulders. Then I picked up Taffy Sinclair's tray and carried it to the tray return with all the dignity I could muster while Taffy waited for me by the cafeteria door.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I could see right then that Taffy Sinclair was going to make a big deal out of pretending to be my friend. Even worse, I would have to swallow my pride and pretend to be her friend, too. It was going to be awful.

  When we left the cafeteria together, a lot of kids were watching us. I h
eard Lisa Snow say to Kim Baxter, "Look at Jana and Taffy. When did they get so chummy?" I wanted to die.

  Taffy led me through the halls and outside to the playground. Naturally the sun had come out, and it was so warm that practically everyone in school was out there. I took a deep breath and followed her as she pranced along. She was acting as if we were some sort of parade. She couldn't just stop and stand somewhere like a normal person. Not Taffy Sinclair. She kept on walking around with me right beside her so that everyone would be sure to see us.

  Finally, Taffy turned to me and said, "Everyone is looking at us. Isn't this fun?" She was smiling so big that I could see her one crooked bicuspid, which she doesn't like anyone to see. It's the only thing about her that isn't perfect.

  I knew I had to smile back so I did it as fast as I could. "Sure," I said sarcastically. "This is the most fun I've had since I had my tonsils out."

  At first my best friends acted as if I had positively flipped. They followed us around, staying at a safe distance so that Taffy couldn't hear what they were saying. When they knew she wasn't looking, they made weird faces and pointed in her direction. Then pretty soon they started giving me sympathetic looks. I knew they had figured out that Taffy was blackmailing me again.

  Knowing that my friends understood made me feel a little bit better until I realized that Randy Kirwan was noticing us, too. My heart started pounding. He pretended not to, but I caught him looking at us more than once. He was by the ball diamond with Mark and Scott. They were horsing around, but I could tell that Randy was more interested in watching Taffy and me than playing with his friends.

  I started to worry about what he was thinking. He knew that I didn't like Taffy Sinclair one bit, and he knew that Taffy didn't like me one bit, either. But he couldn't possibly know that she was blackmailing me. Did he think that I had turned into a two-faced person? Randy is so kind and sensitive. He could never like a girl who was two-faced. Not in a million years.