“You would? Sure!”
Ricky’s mother arrived then, so Ricky had to go home.
The rest of the big-house weekend was nice — except that Andrew would not stop beating on his drum.
“Bet You Can’t!”
“Hi, Karen!”
“Hi, Ricky!”
It was Monday morning. Another week of school was starting. My classmates and I were gathering in Ms. Colman’s room.
Everyone could see that Ricky and I were friends again. Most of the kids did not say anything about it. Pamela did not, either — at first. She just sat at her desk and frowned. I noticed that she and Jannie and Leslie were still wearing their “I ♥ Boys” buttons.
I sat at my desk in the front row. Ricky sat next to me at his desk.
“You know what?” he said. “I put all my money in the bank you made for me. I have almost ten dollars. I found forty-five cents under my parents’ bed, and Dad said I could keep it.”
“What are you saving up for?” I asked loudly. I had realized that Pamela was listening to Ricky and me. I wanted to be sure she caught every word.
“Something secret,” Ricky answered. He was smiling.
“For me?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
I knew that meant yes, so I said, “Thank you, Ricky!”
That was too much for Pamela. She marched over to Ricky and me. “In case you have forgotten, Karen,” she said, “you are not speaking to Ricky. Neither is anyone else in your stupid boy-hating club.” I started to say something, but Pamela would not let me. “It is so babyish to hate boys,” she went on. “Cool girls like boys.” (I tried to remind Pamela that I was married to Ricky. She would not listen.) “I’ve seen your club sign. You think it’s a secret. Well, it isn’t.” Pamela held her two fingers out in front of her, but they made a T sign.
“For your information, Pamela Harding,” I began, “that sign is wrong. This is the right sign.” (I made the X.) “And it is not a secret. Plus, there is no more We Hate Boys Club. Is there?” I demanded. I turned to Nancy and Hannie.
They crossed their arms and shook their heads. They held their noses in the air.
“Nope. No more club,” said Nancy.
“And anyway, you did not even know about our other sign,” added Hannie.
“What other sign?” asked Pamela. She was not shouting anymore.
“This one,” Hannie replied. She went to the chalkboard. She drew:
Pamela’s face grew red. A couple of kids snickered.
I saw that Leslie and Jannie had taken off their buttons.
Pamela looked from her friends to my friends and me.
“Ricky and I are not mad at each other anymore,” I told Pamela.
“You aren’t?”
“Nope. In fact, I am going to play football with the boys at recess today.”
“Really?” Pamela looked confused. Upset, too.
“Ricky asked me to,” I told Pamela. “And since you like boys so much — since it is cool to like boys — why don’t you play with us? I dare you to play on the other team. Ricky and I will beat you guys.”
“We-ell,” said Pamela.
“I bet you can’t even play football,” I said.
“Bet I can.” Pamela did not sound very sure of herself.
“Bet you can’t.”
“Can too!”
“Great. See you on the football field!”
“O-kay!” yelled Pamela.
“No Fair!”
The morning crawled by. I like school. But on that Monday, I was only looking forward to recess. And football.
Finally the morning ended. Lunch ended. Ricky, Bobby, seven other boys, and I met on the football field. Hannie, Nancy, Natalie, and a bunch of second-graders followed us. They were going to watch the game. They wanted to see Ricky and me and our team beat Pamela and the other team.
But someone important was missing.
“Where’s Pamela?” asked Nancy.
Pamela had not joined us.
“She better play,” I said. “She bet she could. I dared her to.” I looked around the playground. “Hey, there she is!”
Pamela, Leslie, and Jannie were huddled in a far corner of the playground.
“She’s not going to play,” said Bobby.
“Oh, yes she is!” I replied. “Hey, Pamela! Come here!”
Pamela turned around slowly.
“COME … HERE!” I yelled. “Everyone is waiting for you.”
Pamela dragged herself across the playground. Her friends followed her.
“See? She’s coming after all,” I announced.
But when Pamela reached us, she said, “No fair. I can’t play. I’m wearing a dress. Everyone else is wearing pants.”
“Okay. Wear pants tomorrow. Play with us then,” I said. I smiled.
Pamela looked trapped. She would have to play football one way or the other.
“No,” she said after a moment. “I’ll play now. I might as well get it over with.”
“Good,” I replied. “Before we start the game, let’s show the boys what we can do. Let’s show them how we can throw the ball and catch it. You run over there,” I told Pamela. I pointed to a place ahead of me.
Pamela walked to the spot. She held out her arms. “Okay, I’m ready.”
I threw the ball toward Pamela. It was a good pass. Pamela missed it by a mile.
“Gee, that was great,” I told her.
Pamela made a face at me. Then she picked up the football. She threw it back to me. Only she wound up and threw it like a baseball.
Even so, I managed to catch it.
Pamela smiled at Ricky. Then she pouted. “Ricky, I — ”
But Ricky interrupted her. “Pamela, Karen. Are you going to play with us or not?”
“Yeah,” said Bobby crossly. “Let’s get going. We’re wasting time.”
“What about my dress?” asked Pamela.
Ricky took the football away from me. “This is stupid,” he said. “I don’t care who plays or who doesn’t play today.”
“As long as we play,” asked Bobby. “Recess is half over. Come on.”
By that time, an even bigger crowd was watching us. All of the kids in both second-grade classrooms were standing around.
“Well, I’m ready to play!” I said.
“Good,” replied Ricky. “Come on, Karen. Pamela, you don’t have to play.”
Pamela’s face fell. Her eyes filled with tears. “Ricky?” she said.
“Listen,” he answered gently. “I like you as a friend, Pamela. But Karen is my wife.” Ricky put his arm across my shoulders.
Most of the kids began to snicker. But I hardly noticed. I was thinking. So Ricky did like Pamela. But I was special to him. That was gigundo important.
Pamela turned her back. She walked away.
“Okay!” cried Bobby. “Let’s go!”
“Home Run!”
I watched Pamela. She walked slowly across the playground. Leslie and Jannie went with her. I felt sort of sorry for the We ♥ Boys Club. But I did not feel sorry enough to apologize to them.
Anyway, the game was about to start. I ran around just like I do with my brothers. Sometimes I made mistakes. But I also caught some passes. I almost scored a touchdown!
“Hey, Ricky! Karen! Can I play, too?” Nancy was calling to us from the crowd.
Ricky looked at Bobby. Then he looked at me. He shrugged. “Why not?” he said.
“Sure you can play, Nancy!” I called to her.
As soon as Nancy ran onto the field, about ten more kids asked if they could play. I guess because we looked like we were having fun.
Ricky and Bobby did not say no to anyone. Even to Natalie. (Natalie is a klutz. Also a crier.) Soon, so many kids wanted to play that we almost had enough people to make three teams. We just made two huge teams, though.
We ran and kicked the ball and tossed it. Everyone was laughing.
Do you know what? We could not even tell who was on
which team. When Nancy caught the ball and ran all the way to the end of the field, she yelled, “I did it!” But nobody knew what side she had scored for.
We did not care.
We did not care when Hank Reubens threw the ball into the woods and we had to search for it.
We did not care when the twins switched sides without telling anyone.
We did not care when Bobby scored a touchdown and Natalie yelled, “Home run!”
But we did care when the bell rang. Recess was over.
“Ohhh …” we groaned.
“I can’t believe it,” said Nancy.
“Recess went too fast,” I added.
“Let’s all play again tomorrow,” suggested Ricky.
“Really?” cried Natalie.
“Yeah. This was fun, wasn’t it?” said Bobby.
“It was great!” I exclaimed.
Everyone began to walk back to school. In front of me, Nancy was walking with Bobby. Bobby was saying to her, “No, a halfback is …”
I smiled to myself. I was happy to see that Nancy and Bobby were together.
I was even happier that Ricky and I were together again, though. I looked at my husband. “I’m glad we’re friends,” I told him. “I’m glad we’re married.”
“Me, too.” Ricky was holding the football in one arm. He slipped his other arm through mine. We kept on walking.
“Ricky?” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Let’s not fight anymore, okay?”
“Well, let’s try not to fight anymore,” said Ricky. “Sometimes people need to fight.”
“Right,” I agreed. “But let’s try very hard not to fight. I don’t like being mad at you.”
“And I don’t like being mad at you.”
“Will we be husband and wife forever?” I asked Ricky. (I did not really mean forever. I just meant until the end of second grade.)
“We’ll be husband and wife at least until Natalie learns to play football,” Ricky replied. He was grinning.
I grinned back. I did not have a thing to worry about.
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 © 1991 by Ann M. Martin
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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, 1991
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05592-4
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