by Betsy Haynes
My heart began to pound. If my friends hadn't slipped, and I was almost positive they hadn't, there was only one other possible explanation. The person who wrote my secret admirer notes was Taffy Sinclair!
At recess I motioned for my friends to follow me to our spot by the fence, where we could talk in private. Then I told them what I suspected.
"Taffy Sinclair is your secret admirer!" Katie shrieked.
She started to laugh, but I gave her a poison-dart look, and she stopped. "Everybody think hard. Did any of you say anything—I mean ANYTHING—that would have tipped off Taffy that my secret admirer told me to wear red?"
My friends all thought for a moment. Then they frowned and shook their heads in unison.
"Then she has to be the one who wrote the notes," I insisted.
"I don't understand why Taffy Sinclair would want you to have a secret admirer instead of her," said Melanie. "You know how conceited she is. Wouldn't you think she'd want all that attention for herself?"
"Yeah," said Beth. "I'd think that if she were going to write fake secret admirer notes, she'd write them to herself."
"I've been thinking about that," I said. "At first I felt the same way you do. But then I thought of something else. Taffy has been trying to take Randy away from me practically forever. She has flirted with him and tried everything she could think of, but nothing worked because he liked me and I liked him."
"So?" asked Christie. "How does sending you secret admirer notes change that?"
"He hasn't asked me to the movie on Saturday, right? So she probably thinks he's losing interest in me. Now, get this. What if I get mad about that? And then what if I find out that I have this fabulous secret admirer? And what if I get carried away with my secret admirer and I lose interest in Randy! Don't you see? Then Taffy can have Randy all for herself!"
Beth slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. "That's brilliant, Jana. That has to be it! She even acted jealous to throw you off-track."
"I agree," said Katie.
"Me, too," said Christie. "Taffy Sinclair is a rat."
"The worst thing is, I WAS getting carried away with my secret admirer," I said. "I got madder and madder at Randy, and if Keith had asked me to the movie, I would have gone. Taffy Sinclair's plan almost worked!"
"But it didn't," said Melanie. "You should be happy about that."
"I won't be happy until I accomplish TWO things," I said. "Get Randy back and get revenge on Taffy Sinclair!"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When I got home from school, I planted Mom's second secret admirer note in our mailbox and went to my room to try to figure out what to do about my problems. On the way home I had remembered that there were three things I needed to do, not just two. In addition to Randy and Taffy Sinclair, I still had to prove to Mrs. Winchell that I wasn't the one writing the secret admirer notes.
I had thought that when Keith turned out to be my secret admirer, all my troubles with Mrs. Winchell would be over. If I had a real secret admirer, then she would realize that I would never want to write a note to Mr. Scott. But now, Keith had asked Beth to the movie, and Christie had made me promise not to tell on her. I was right back where I started.
A few minutes later I heard Mom come in. I wanted to run in to meet her and see if she had found her note, but I made myself stay where I was. I was afraid I'd give myself away.
"What!" she shrieked an instant later. That was the signal I was waiting for. She had found her secret admirer note.
"What's the matter, Mom?" I asked in fake surprise as I rushed into the living room. She had a sheet of notebook paper in her hand. It was all I could do to keep from grinning.
"I got another one of those disgusting notes," she said, her eyes flaring. "Here. Look at this."
She handed the note to me. Even though I knew what it said by heart, I pretended that I was seeing it for the very first time. It said:
Dear Pat,
Please disregard my first note. I had you mixed up with someone else.
Even though you seem like a very nice and very exciting person, you are not the person I meant to write to.
Your former Secret Admirer
"Wow! This is great," I said. "Now we know that nobody is watching us or planning to do anything terrible." I looked at Mom, but she wasn't smiling the way I had hoped she would be. "And look," I added, pointing to the note. "He thinks you're exciting. Isn't that terrific?"
"Hmmfpt. Some kind of weirdo, if you ask me," she mumbled as she headed for the kitchen. Still, as she turned to go, I thought I saw the tiniest grin twitching at the corners of her mouth. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least this plan had worked, and she would probably forget all about the notes in a day or two.
When I got back to my room, I started pacing the floor. If only my other problems could be solved as easily. Then I thought about Randy with his beautiful blue eyes and dark, wavy hair. I had to get him back. I just had to! But I still didn't know why he didn't like me anymore or if he was taking Taffy Sinclair to the movie on Saturday. What was even worse, I didn't know what to do.
I considered the possibilities. I could call him and ask him for an explanation. Oh, no, I couldn't, I assured myself quickly. I couldn't do that in a million years! I could have someone else call him—probably Beth—and ask what's wrong. No, that would be almost as terrible as calling him myself. What else? I could ask Melanie to have Scott find out again. I shook my head. I didn't like that idea either. What Scott found out might be too embarrassing. I sighed. I was getting nowhere fast.
I tried and tried to think of another idea. There must be something that I can do, I thought. I knew that whatever it was, it had to be something I did myself. Nobody else could get Randy back for me.
If Mom noticed that I was quiet at dinner, she didn't mention it. I helped with the dishes and then excused myself to do math homework, but I didn't open my book. Instead, I stared at the wall and thought about Randy.
When a soft knock sounded at my bedroom door and Mom called out, "I'm going to run to the store for a couple of things. Back in a few minutes," I knew what I had to do.
I waited until I heard the door close behind her and went into the living room. The telephone sat there on the table by the sofa looking like a big black bug. I didn't want to touch it, but I had to.
I felt tingly all over as I dialed Randy's number and listened to it ring. I didn't have the faintest idea of what I would say. I just knew that I had to talk to him and get things straightened out once and for all.
"Hello," said a masculine voice.
"Randy?" I asked weakly.
"Jana, is that you?" His voice sounded excited.
I nodded nervously, and then I realized he couldn't see that over the phone. "Yes, it's me."
"Great. I was just getting ready to call you. Honest! I was standing right here by the phone getting ready to dial your number."
"You were? Gosh. What did you want to talk to me about?" My heart was pounding, and I sank onto the sofa, clutching the receiver to my ear.
"A couple of things." His voice sounded serious again. Oh, no. I thought: Here it comes. "First, I want to explain why I didn't ask you to the movie, but you've got to promise you won't tell ANYONE."
I frowned, puzzled. "Sure. I promise."
"Well, you see, I have this cousin Julia who was supposed to have this big wedding Saturday, and my parents were making me be in it. They had rented this stupid-looking white tuxedo and a shirt with ruffles on the front, and I was supposed to be a junior groomsman, or something like that. And I was supposed to walk down the aisle with Julia's little sister, who is . . . well, you wouldn't like her. It was going to be gross, and if Scott or Mark or any of my friends ever found out about my wearing a tuxedo and a shirt with ruffles on the front, they'd kid me for the rest of my life."
I wanted to giggle so badly I could hardly stand it as a picture of Randy in a white tuxedo and a frilly shirt popped into my mind. He would look handsome, of course, but h
e wouldn't look like the Randy I knew. And he was right about his friends. They would never let him live it down.
"I had made up my mind to tell you about the wedding when I saw you in the hall this morning," he went on, "so that you'd understand why I hadn't asked you out. But then you acted as if you didn't want to talk to me. I also know that you have a secret admirer," he said softly. "But I was wondering . . . well . . . if he hasn't already asked you, would you go to the movie with me?"
"What about the wedding?" I burst out.
Randy laughed. "Julia and her boyfriend eloped last night! My parents just found out a few minutes ago, and boy, everybody's having a fit. Aunt Clara fainted. Uncle George hit the ceiling about all the money he had spent on the wedding. What a riot. I think it's great! Now I don't have to go to the wedding and wear that stupid tuxedo. And," he added softly, "I can go to the movie with you, if you'd like to."
"I'd love to!" I said breathlessly. "I really would. And about my secret admirer . . ." I paused and thought a moment. I had started to tell Randy that I didn't really have a secret admirer, but maybe that wasn't such a good idea. "I'd rather go with you," I added quickly.
"Super. So what were you calling me about?"
I swallowed a gasp and thought fast. "Oh, I was just going to ask you which problems we were supposed to do for math homework," I said slyly. "I must have forgotten to write them down."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We talked a little while longer and finally hung up after I promised Randy for the millionth time that I wouldn't tell his friends about the tuxedo. I had just put down the receiver when Mom got home.
"Mom! Guess what! Randy's taking me to the movie on Saturday!" I cried as I jumped up and down.
"Terrific!" she said as she set down the bag of groceries she was carrying and rushed to me, jumping up and down along with me as we hugged. "Tell me all about it."
"Okay. I'll start at the beginning." I collapsed on the sofa and grinned up at her. Then I sat up straight again and began talking as fast as I could. "Well, see, Melanie has this date with Scott for the movie Saturday, and Joel asked Sara, and Mark asked Alexis, but I couldn't figure out why Randy hadn't asked me. Then I got this note from my secret admirer and he . . ." My voice trailed off as I realized what I had just said.
"Ah—HA! So that's where the idea for MY secret admirer came from," she said, and I couldn't tell if she was just joking or if she was really mad. "You wrote those notes, didn't you?"
I nodded mutely and waited for disaster to strike. When Mom didn't say anything right away, I decided I had better explain about that, too. "I didn't mean to scare you or worry you," I insisted. "It's just that your life is so boring, just taking care of me, and going bowling with Pink every Saturday night, and you brought home those travel brochures and said you'd love some excitement and adventure, and I thought . . ." I couldn't say anything more. Tears were gushing into my eyes, and it felt as if something were squeezing my throat.
I heard Mom sigh and felt her arms wrap around me. "And you thought that giving me a secret admirer would add a little excitement and adventure to my life," she said softly. "Oh, Jana. I love you so much." Then she let go of me and tipped my face toward hers so I could see that she was smiling.
Suddenly she was laughing. "Let's get out that mayonnaise jar and start right now to save for a trip." Mom jumped up and ran to the kitchen with me right behind her. Together we washed the jar and dried it and put one dollar and twenty-three cents into it for starters. The twenty-three cents was mine. Then we sat back down on the sofa, and I finished telling her about my date with Randy.
The next morning was Friday, and when I got to school, I marched straight to the office to see Mrs. Winchell. I had made up my mind overnight what to do.
"Good morning, Jana," she said, looking up from some papers on her desk after her secretary had announced me. "How are you this morning?"
"Just fine, thank you. How are you?" I said as politely as I could.
"Very well. Now, what can I do for you?"
"I just thought you might want to know that I was wrong about who my secret admirer was. It wasn't Keith. He asked Beth Barry to go to the movie."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"That's okay. Randy Kirwan asked me instead. I'm going with him."
"That's wonderful, Jana. Then it was Randy who was your secret admirer, wasn't it?"
"He hasn't said so."
"Well, boys are like that," she assured me. "And I'm sure that the other secret admirer note was just some copycat. I think we can forget about it now." I was grinning from ear to ear when I left her office. I couldn't help feeling a little guilty, and yet everything I had told her was the truth. Now Christie wouldn't get into trouble either. Everything was working out super.
Then I went looking for Taffy Sinclair. I was ready for her, too. I made a quick stop in our classroom without anyone's seeing me and then headed downstairs to the lockers. Taffy was beside hers, and she had a cluster of girls around her.
"Hi, Taffy," I said as I got near. "Look what I'm wearing today. Blue. Just the way my secret admirer said to do."
Taffy looked startled. She glanced from my face to my jeans and blue sweater and then back to my face again.
"Yup. My secret admirer really knows what he likes for me to wear. Yesterday it was red, and today it's blue."
I could tell that I had shaken her up.
"You're faking," she said. "You don't have a secret admirer."
"Yes, I do!" I insisted. "He left another note in my mailbox yesterday, and boy, you should read it. He said that he's crazy about me, and that I'm the most beautiful girl in the world."
I could tell that I was really getting to Taffy now. Since she had written the first three notes, she couldn't figure out where the last one had come from.
"Let's see it," she demanded.
"Sorry. I left it home for safekeeping."
Just then Christie came up. I had tipped her off about my plan on the phone last night when I had called all my friends to tell them about my date with Randy, and she knew exactly what to do.
"Hi, everybody," she said. "Guess what. I have a secret admirer. Isn't it exciting?"
"Me, too," said Katie, who had walked up from the other end of the hall. "I never realized before just how romantic sixth-grade boys could be."
Taffy was zinging poison-dart looks at each one of us and looking nervously at all the kids standing around listening, but she didn't say a word.
"Gee, Taffy," I said sarcastically. Then in front of everybody I said in a really loud voice, "I'm surprised that you don't have a secret admirer, too."
That was more than Taffy could stand. She whirled away and stomped off down the hall. My friends and I followed her, making sure she didn't see us. When she got to our room, she hurried inside, and we hurried just as fast and peeked in at her. She was reaching for a folded-up note in the middle of her desk. Taffy opened it very slowly, and a smile spread over her face as she read it.
"What does it say?" whispered Melanie.
I gave her a triumphant smile. "It says, 'Dear Taffy, I have been your BIGGEST admirer forever and ever. I think you are totally gorgeous and wonderful. I also think you are the most fabulous person in the whole wide world and even the universe. Your Secret Admirer. P.S. If you want to find out who it is that thinks all these wonderful things about you, look in your desk. I left another note in there.'"
My friends smothered giggles with their hands as we watched Taffy raise the top of her desk. She grabbed the note I had left in there, opened it, and gasped. Then she threw it onto the floor and ran out of the room without even seeing us standing in the hall.
"I have to see what it says," said Beth, running in and picking up the note. She burst out laughing as she read it, then held it up for everyone to see. There were only two words in the middle of the page:
Taffy Sinclair
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Scott and his father picked up Joel and Mark and Keith an
d Randy in the Dalys' big customized van a little after six o'clock on Saturday evening, then picked up all the girls. It was a tight squeeze to get in ten kids and a grown-up, but nobody cared.
I felt a little sad that all of The Fabulous Five wasn't going, even though that would have meant fourteen kids in the van. But Christie had insisted that there wasn't one single boy in sixth grade who could compare with Mr. Scott, and Katie didn't like boys—period. They planned to spend the evening at Christie's, order out pizza from Mama Mia's, and watch a movie on the VCR.
I had spent practically all day getting ready and had talked on the phone to Beth and Melanie three times each, deciding what to wear. Beth kept saying that it wouldn't matter since the movie theater was dark, but I wanted to look just right anyway.
I had finally decided on my lavender pants and matching top, and I could tell by the way Randy looked at me when I opened the door that I had made the right choice. His dark green polo shirt was open at the neck, and his jeans were practically brand-new. He had never looked more handsome in his life!
When we got to the theater, the boys lined up to get the tickets. They horsed around while they waited, laughing and punching each other in the arm, and we girls stood aside, watching them and trying not to giggle.
We ate popcorn and drank soda while we watched the movie, and I had just wiped the salty butter off my fingers when Randy slipped his hand over mine.
I could feel my ears getting warm and my face turning red, but it didn't matter. Everything had worked out perfectly. I didn't need a secret admirer. I had someone who really did like me, and he always had. In fact, in the back of the van on the way home from the movie, he kissed me for the second time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Betsy Haynes, the daughter of a former newswoman, began scribbling poetry and short stories as soon as she learned to write. A serious writing career, however, had to wait until after her marriage and the arrival of her two children. But that early practice must have paid off, for within three months Mrs. Haynes had sold her first story. In addition to a number of magazine short stories and the Taffy Sinclair series, Mrs. Haynes is the author of The Fabulous Five series, which features the five best friends from the Taffy Sinclair books. She lives in Colleyville, Texas, with her husband, who is the author of a young adult novel.