by Betsy Haynes
Jana ignored Melanie's suggestion and turned to Beth. "I don't know, but it seems to me as if we're going to have to give up on this whole idea. We can't think of anything to do to raise the money ourselves, and none of the other kids is the least bit interested in helping."
"I'll bet they would be if we could just come up with the right money-making scheme," said Katie. "What would a lot of people be willing to pay for?"
Beth chuckled. "I was thinking this morning about the Brain Damage concert and how hard we worked to get tickets to the show. Has anyone heard of any rock groups coming to town soon?"
Heads shook around the table.
"What good would that do us?" asked Christie.
"Oh, I was just thinking that maybe we could buy a special block of tickets at a discount and sell them at a profit."
"Naw," said Katie. "That would never work. I'm sure we wouldn't be able to get a discount."
"Remember how you tricked Trevor Morgan into letting you into his hotel room?" Melanie asked. "It's a shame you didn't bring back a souvenir. You could probably sell it for the entire five thousand dollars."
Beth put her sandwich down and looked at Melanie. "Hey, maybe you've got something."
"Do you mean to say that you did get a souvenir, and you didn't tell us?" shrieked Melanie.
"No, silly. But maybe he would send us something if we asked him. He likes us, and I'd be willing to write him a letter. And we could write to other celebrities, too. Rock stars. The President. There are tons of people who are famous, and if they each sent us something, we could sell it and raise all the money we need."
Beth's excitement was growing, and she went on before anyone else could say anything. "Now that I think about it, I read a magazine article about some people in another state who did that to raise money for a little kid who needed some kind of operation. They got stuff from professional sports figures and movie stars and all kinds of people like that. Then they auctioned everything off and made a lot of money."
"I love it! I love it!" cried Melanie. "There's this gorgeous hunk on the soap opera I watch sometimes. He is sooo sexy and sooo cool. I want to write to him!" She clasped her hands under her chin and got a starry look in her eyes. "Imagine getting something of his that he actually touched!"
"I think she likes the idea," Katie said sarcastically. "But so do I," she admitted. "I might write to Sandra Day O'Connor. It would be neat to have something that belonged to a justice of the Supreme Court, especially a woman justice."
"I'll bet Curtis Trowbridge would write to the President of the United States and the president of IBM," chuckled Jana.
"I'd write to Steffi Graf and Martina Navratilova and Chris Evert," said Christie. "If they sent autographed tennis balls, I'd buy all of them."
"Don't forget. You'd have to bid on them the same as everyone else," Beth reminded her.
"Did you notice how we always seem to forget something major?" asked Katie.
"Like what?" asked Jana.
Katie shrugged. "Where do we get these people's addresses? I mean, you can't just look them up in the phone book."
Faces fell around the table.
"Of course, the President of the United States' address isn't hard to find," Katie went on. "It's sixteen hundred Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C. And I guess I could find out the address of the Supreme Court, but what about other celebrities? Don't they keep their addresses a secret so people won't hound them to death?"
"Some of the teen fan magazines list the addresses of the movie studios in Hollywood where you can write to people like Kirk Cameron and Fred Savage," offered Melanie. "At least that would be a start."
"But we don't want all the money we make to come from just Wacko students," reasoned Katie. "If we're going to make big-time money, we need to appeal to adults, too. How many of them would buy a Kirk Cameron poster?"
"My mom's crazy about Fred Savage," admitted Melanie. "She watches The Wonder Years all the time and reminisces about what it was like in junior high in her day. She'd probably even buy his poster."
"I'll bet we could get grown-ups besides Wacko parents to bid on the stuff if we had the right things and some newspaper publicity," Beth said, looking at Jana, who nodded back at her. Jana's mother worked at the local paper and had helped them get publicity before. "Who knows, we might make a million dollars!" Beth went on.
"Leave it to Beth," said Katie, rolling her eyes. "Next she'll be going nationwide."
Everyone broke up laughing over that. When the giggles died down, Beth stroked her chin and then asked, "But seriously, how will we get enough addresses to make this idea work? Katie's right about getting things that would appeal to adults, too."
"Maybe I could find out," said Christie. "I could ask Jon to ask his parents. Since they work for a television station that's affiliated with a major network, they'd have to know how to get that kind of information."
"There's Jon over there," said Jana, pointing to a table across the lunchroom. "Why don't you ask him now? I'll go with you."
"Me, too," chorused the others.
Christie nodded, and everyone scrambled to their feet, stuffing apple cores and bread crusts into lunch bags. Then the five of them marched across the crowded cafeteria to the table where Jon was eating with Keith Masterson, Richie Corrierro, Derek Travelstead, and Tony Sanchez.
"Hey, look out, guys. We're being invaded," cried Richie when the girls reached the table. He threw up his hands to shield his eyes. "We surrender. Don't punish us!"
"We didn't come over here to punish you, but now that you mention it . . ." Christie said with a grin.
"They came to steal our lunches," piped up Keith.
"No, we didn't," Beth insisted. "We've got a great idea for raising money to pay for the damages."
"Oh, no. Not that again," said Keith. "I suppose now we're all going to sit around and make doll clothes or something dumb like that."
"Keith, you're so immature," spat out Beth. "We're going to have a celebrity auction and write to lots of rock stars and sports figures and people like that and ask them to donate something to sell. The trouble is we need more information, and we thought maybe Jon could help."
"A celebrity auction, huh?" said Tony. "You mean get football jerseys from guys like Joe Montana and Herschel Walker?"
"Right," said Katie.
"Wow!" said Tony. "I'll go for that!"
"Me, too," said Jon, "but what did you mean, maybe I could help?"
Christie went on to explain to Jon about the addresses, and Tony and Richie started arguing about who got to write to Joe Montana and Herschel Walker.
Beth turned to Keith and smiled sweetly. "Actually it's because of you that this great idea came up. If you hadn't said that you wanted to come over to my house tonight so I could hear your new Brain Damage tape, nobody would ever have thought of contacting celebrities."
Beth had thought that no one else was listening to their private conversation, but the instant those words were out of her mouth Richie and Derek threw their arms around each other and began laughing like crazy.
"Oh, honey," Richie cried in a high soprano voice. "You're coming over to my house tonight so that we can smooch!"
Then Derek made a loud smooching noise and broke up laughing so hard that he fell backward off the lunch table bench, almost pulling Richie with him.
"All right, you jerks! Knock it off," Beth shouted. "Keith is coming over to play a tape."
"Oh, Keithy, honey! I love your tape!" Derek cooed.
Beth doubled up her fists and glared at the two boys as Christie and Jana grabbed her by each arm and hurried her away.
"By the look on your face, I thought you were going to slug those two," said Katie as The Fabulous Five walked along together on the school ground a few minutes later.
"Believe me, I would have if you guys hadn't gotten to me when you did," said Beth. "And did you see Keith? He just sat there and let those imbeciles say those things!"
"Boys," gru
mbled Katie.
"You can say that again," said Beth.
"Well, one good thing happened anyway," said Christie. "Jon thinks he can get us the addresses we need. If he can, we're in business!"
The five girls congratulated each other and exchanged high fives. And since the boys were enthusiastic about the celebrity auction, Beth thought, maybe—just maybe—all the other kids at school would be, too.
She was relieved that they had solved the address problem so easily. Now if only she could solve her problem with Keith's immature behavior half so easily, she would be really happy.
CHAPTER 10
Beth rushed through her homework and even had time to shower and wash her hair after dinner, since Keith usually came over around seven on school nights. She was over her anger at him and hummed happily at the thought of their evening together, dressing carefully so that she would look her best. She chose one of her most conservative outfits, a pink-and-gray-striped tunic over slate-gray stretch pants and matching pink push-down socks. She passed on the pink hair bow she usually wore with this outfit and even picked smaller-than-usual silver earrings to finish out the effect. A spray of her favorite cologne, and she was ready.
The next challenge was what to do with Alicia. She was sprawled in front of the television on her stomach, propped up on her elbows on a shaggy pillow that, on closer inspection, turned out to be Agatha.
"Hi, Bethy!" she called out when Beth entered the family room. "Look at Agafa. She loves being my pillow."
Agatha's tail thumped on the floor at the sound of her name, but otherwise she remained flat out on her side. The perfect pillow, thought Beth.
"Why don't you and your pillow go into the living room with Mom and Dad," Beth suggested. "Keith's coming over pretty soon."
"No! No!" shouted Alicia. "I got here first. You and Keith go in the living room. I want to watch television."
"But we're going to play the stereo, so the television set will be turned off anyway," Beth argued.
"No! No! I got here first. And Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will be on at seven."
Beth let out a big breath of air and looked around desperately, as if she might find the solution to her problem written somewhere on the walls. Alicia always watched the turtles. They were her favorites. Not only that, so did Todd, and her guess was that he was in his room at this very minute, frantically trying to get his homework done before the start of the program at seven. Now what was she going to do?
There was one possible solution, but she was almost afraid to think about it, much less approach her parents. Five minutes later she stood in the middle of the living room chewing on her lower lip and waiting for them to announce their verdict.
"I don't know," her mother said, shaking her head and frowning. "You remember that a couple of years ago we let Brittany entertain a boy in her bedroom with the explicit instructions that the door was to remain open."
"And you know what happened that time," her father added sternly. "We made the rule then that there were to be no boyfriends or girlfriends in the bedrooms."
"But Mom! Dad!" Beth implored. "That was Brittany! Not me! I don't think it's fair that because she disobeyed, I have to be punished."
"You aren't being punished, dear," her mother said softly. "It's just that we think the rule is a good one and that every one of you children should abide by it."
"Yes, I am being punished," said Beth. She tried to keep the anger out of her voice so that her parents would listen to what she was saying. "I don't think it's fair. I think I should get a chance all on my own. What you're saying is that you don't trust me to keep my door open just because Brittany didn't. We're two different people. You can't just lump us together." She wanted to add that it was the same old story—adults thinking all teenagers were alike. But she didn't.
Mr. and Mrs. Barry exchanged helpless looks. "She does have a point," her mother said. "Maybe she should have the privilege of listening to Keith's tape in her room, especially since Todd and Alicia want to watch television anyway."
"Okay," her father said, looking directly at her. "We'll give it a try, but don't forget the rule."
Beth felt as if her whole body was going to collapse inward from relief. "I won't forget. I promise. After all, if I mess up, I'm the one who gets in trouble." She rushed forward and gave each of them a quick hug. "Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad," she said. "I've got to hurry upstairs and pick up my room. He'll be here any minute."
By four minutes after seven Beth had picked up all the clutter and stuffed it into her closet. She leaned back against the closet door and gave her room one last, quick survey in case she had forgotten to pick up something vital, like a bra. She hoped Keith would like the way she had decorated her room. She had used brightly colored adhesive tape to make horizontal stripes on one white wall, vertical stripes on another, diagonal stripes on the third wall, and on the fourth, the one facing the door, she had created zigzags. It was a wild and crazy room, but she loved it.
Her thoughts flew back to Keith again. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she wasn't sure if she would hear the doorbell, but she knew that her parents were still downstairs and that they would let Keith in when he arrived.
By five minutes after seven her heart rate was down to normal, and she had checked her lipstick for the zillionth time. She had also dusted her stereo and double-checked to make sure it was plugged in. Mom might have accidentally knocked the plug out of the socket when she vacuumed, she reasoned.
Next, she rearranged the throw pillows on her bed and ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to decide where they would sit. Not on the bed! she thought, knowing that her parents would have a fit if they walked by her room and saw her and Keith on the bed, no matter how far apart they were sitting. She pulled the chair from behind the desk and scooted it next to the stereo. No, she thought. That's too close. She pulled it out a little and looked around again. There was only one chair in the room. Keith could have it. She would sit on the floor. Would her parents approve of that? Well, anything was better than the bed.
She heard Todd thunder down the hall and on down the stairs. She looked at her watch: 7:13. Todd had missed the beginning of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. So what? she thought. Where was Keith?
At 7:17 she opened her door and peeked into the hall. Brittany was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the telephone receiver balanced on her shoulder while she painstakingly applied polish to her fingernails. Beth tiptoed to the top of the stairs and looked at the front door, willing the doorbell to ring. Where was he? Maybe if she went downstairs and looked out the front window she would see him coming up the street.
No luck. She shuffled back up to her room after checking the fridge to make sure there were still cold sodas. It was 7:34 and a prickly feeling was starting to climb up her scalp. He was never this late. Never.
Maybe he's trying to call. She raced back into the hall, ready to go to war with Brittany if necessary to get her off the phone. How could Keith call her to explain why he was late if the line was busy?
But Brittany was not in the hallway. And the telephone hung silent on the wall. And it was 7:49. Beth went back into her room and sat poker-stiff in the middle of her bed, staring at the zigzags.
By 8:03 she knew he wasn't coming.
CHAPTER 11
"I forgot. Honest," said Keith when Beth caught up with him on the school ground the next morning.
"You didn't forget. How could you forget a thing like that?" she snapped. She cleared her throat as she struggled to keep her voice from cracking. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry no matter what.
"Because I'm human, and human beings forget things sometimes. I'm sorry. Okay?"
Beth still didn't believe him, but she didn't want to fight either. "Okay," she mumbled. "You can bring your tape over tonight if you want."
Keith didn't say anything for a minute. "Can't. Not tonight."
"Why not?" asked Beth, letting exasperation creep into her voice.
"I just can't. That's all."
"Can't? Or don't want to?" Beth spat out. Then she whirled around before he could answer and left him standing alone.
What was happening anyway? Had he let Richie's and Derek's teasing yesterday get to him? Or did he simply not like her anymore? Was he trying to tell her that he wanted to break up without actually coming out and saying it? These questions were swirling around in her mind when she reached The Fabulous Five's special spot by the fence.
"Oh, look," said Melanie, pointing toward the street where a police car had pulled up. A uniformed officer got out, and heads turned all over the school ground to watch as he entered the building. "Do you suppose they've come to arrest Steve and the other guys?"
"I doubt it," said Christie. "The police have been here two or three times. He's probably just going to meet with Mr. Bell again."
"Isn't there anything they can do about it?" said Melanie. "Tucker Cobler and John Mauhl were actually laughing about all the humiliation they've caused the rest of us. They think it's funny that all the kids who study and work hard for their grades are getting so much flak over the vandalism."
"It makes me furious," said Jana. "No, worse than that," she added, shaking her head. "It makes me feel helpless. They are in control of us. Because of them, we look bad."
"It isn't fair," complained Melanie. "Surely they left some kind of evidence behind that the police can find and tie them to the crime. I mean, those guys are supposed to be dumb, right? That's why they're flunking and taking ninth grade over until they turn sixteen and can legally quit school. If they're so dumb, why haven't they been arrested?"
"Just because they're in trouble a lot doesn't mean they're dumb," said Katie. "They just don't want to use their brains the right way. I read somewhere that a lot of people in prison are highly intelligent. In fact, some of them believe they're smarter than anybody else. That's why they think they can get away with things."
"Well, I don't care if they're smart or not," Jana chimed in. "I'm just sick and tired of the rest of us looking bad because of what they do. Right, Beth? We know how you feel about it."