Abby's Un-Valentine

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Abby's Un-Valentine Page 6

by Ann M. Martin


  Claudia helped David Michael and Karen finish one mouse each and waited until they had started on seconds before she excused herself to check on Andrew.

  When Claudia opened the door to Andrew’s room, he spun around and tried to shove a small, half-packed suitcase under the bed. She noticed that his piggy bank was upended on the bedside table. Scout was sitting on the bed, watching.

  “Scout’s not supposed to be on the bed, Andrew,” Claudia said. “You know that.”

  “Scout’s my dog and she can sit on my bed,” Andrew argued.

  “Scout isn’t your dog, Andrew,” Claudia replied. “Scout, off,” she commanded. Scout jumped off the bed. Claudia, who actually thought the chocolate Lab looked a tad relieved, sat down where Scout had been sitting.

  Andrew straightened up to scowl at her. Taking in more of the room, Claudia saw that drawers were open and clothes were spilling out.

  “Packing for a trip?” Claudia asked innocently.

  His face reddening, Andrew said, “No!”

  “That’s what it looks like.” Claudia drew a deep breath and took a not-so-wild guess. “Maybe you and Scout are going somewhere.”

  Andrew’s face grew even redder. “How did you know?” Then without waiting for Claudia to answer he said, “We’re leaving, Scout and me. I’m not letting anyone take her away from me.”

  “Oh, Andrew.” Claudia reached out and pulled the reluctant Andrew closer. She patted the bed next to her and he sat down. Scout laid her head on Andrew’s knee, and he began to pet her.

  “Scout likes me best,” Andrew said, giving Claudia a defiant look.

  “I can tell Scout likes you,” Claudia said. “And you love Scout. She’s your good friend.”

  Andrew nodded.

  After a moment, Claudia said, “You’ve been lucky that Scout could live with you until she grew up enough to learn to be a guide dog. And you’ve done a really good job.”

  “You think so?” Andrew asked.

  “I know it. When Scout goes to school, I believe she will be the best dog in her class. And when she graduates, someone who wants her very badly, and who needs a dog to be a friend and a guide, will be so happy to be partners with Scout.”

  Andrew hung his head. “But she’ll be gone. She won’t be mine anymore.”

  “She’ll always be yours a little bit, Andrew. She’ll never forget you, just as you’ll never forget her.”

  “When Scout leaves, I won’t have a big pet of my own. Karen has Pumpkin and David Michael has Shannon, but I don’t have a dog or a cat,” Andrew said. His voice sounded shaky.

  “That’s hard,” Claudia said sympathetically. “It would make me sad.”

  He nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Claudia said, “I brought a book about a dog that works as a guide dog. Maybe you’d like me to read it to you. And to Scout, of course.”

  Andrew nodded again. Claudia stood up and reached out to him. Hand in hand they went back to the family room, with Scout padding after them. Andrew sat on the sofa, leaning against Claudia, with Scout at his feet, while Claudia read, and Karen and David Michael made catnip mice.

  She hoped she’d helped, but she couldn’t be sure. Although she wished she could do something to make Andrew less sad, she couldn’t think of a thing. Scout was leaving in four days. No matter what, it was going to be hard on the whole family, but especially on Andrew.

  “Roses and carnations! Abby, that’s so sweet,” said Stacey.

  “It was one carnation, the roses made me sneeze, and what part of ‘no’ does Ross not understand?” I retorted.

  We were at the Wednesday afternoon meeting of the BSC, which had quickly turned into some kind of “Support Ross as Abby’s Date to the Dance” rally.

  “It’s nice that someone likes you,” said Jessi.

  “No, it’s not. Not if you don’t like him back,” I said.

  “But I thought you liked Ross,” Claudia said.

  “As a friend. But he’s using up my friendship tolerance. Fast,” I explained.

  “Too bad he can’t take the hint,” said Kristy. “Now he’s not going to have a dance date and he’s going to lose a friend. A potential great friend.”

  I gave Kristy a grateful look.

  “Didn’t you like the book of New Yorker cartoons?” Stacey asked.

  “Those I liked,” I admitted. The book had been waiting for me at my locker on Tuesday morning. I had to admit, it had been funny — and a lot more interesting than my first couple of classes.

  “I thought you would.” Stacey looked smug.

  I gave her a puzzled look.

  Stacey said, “When Ross asked me, I told him you’d go for the cartoons. I said —”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “What are you saying? Are you saying that you gave Ross advice? When you KNOW I’M NOT INTERESTED?”

  Yes, my voice was that loud. Mary Anne winced, and even Kristy looked taken aback.

  Stacey stayed cool, though. “He asked. I was just trying to help.”

  “Help who?” Kristy snapped. “Not Abby, that’s for sure.”

  Stacey opened her mouth, then closed it, looking angry.

  Claudia took the opportunity to jump in. “I can see how it would be a little overwhelming, Abby. I mean, since you’ve never, well, had a boyfriend before.”

  Gritting my teeth, I said, “A, Don’t patronize me. B, I’ve had a boyfriend, just not in Stoneybrook. I’ve had plenty of them. I mean, Long Island is filled with my former boyfriends, okay?” (I was exaggerating, but I was angry.) “And C, I would never, ever, ever go out with someone just for the sake of going out with someone. I’ll never be that desperate and dishonest.”

  That rocked Claudia’s world. She sat back, her eyes widening. Stacey said with tight lips, “What are you implying? That we just date people for the sake of dating them?”

  “If the shoe fits,” I began.

  Jessi intervened. “Stop it.”

  Mary Anne said at the same moment, “There are other reasons to go out with Ross.”

  “I’m talking, but no one’s listening,” I said to the wall. “I will not go out with Ross for any reason.”

  “So, what do you think, Claudia? Do you think Andrew will be able to handle Scout leaving?” Jessi said.

  It was such a random question that we all stopped talking and looked at her. At that moment, Claudia’s mother called, “Charlie’s here.”

  Glancing at the clock, I saw that it read 6:01. Sounding as relieved as I felt, Kristy declared, “This meeting of the BSC is adjourned.”

  Kristy and I left without saying another word.

  As we walked to the car, I said, “I guess I’ve made Stacey and Claudia and Mary Anne pretty mad.”

  “Mary Anne’s not mad. I think her feelings are probably hurt,” Kristy observed. “But then, they made you mad too.”

  “True,” I said.

  “I guess we all need some space,” Kristy said. She slammed the car door behind her. I leaned forward as Charlie started the engine.

  “Charlie,” I said, “you’re a guy, right?”

  “Yes,” said Charlie as Kristy grinned.

  “So give me some good guy advice.”

  “It’s okay to invite him to do … whatever it is you want to invite him to do. He’s waiting for you to call. Guys like that,” Charlie said, jumping to the wrong conclusion before I said another word.

  Kristy gave a hoot. “How would you know? Who’s ever called you?”

  “Plenty of girls,” Charlie said. “That’s why I’m the expert.”

  “That’s not the problem,” I said. I described what had been going on with Ross. “He doesn’t get it,” I concluded. “He thinks if I give him a chance, I’ll change my mind. But I won’t.”

  “Sounds like he’s got it bad,” Charlie said. “Poor guy.”

  “Don’t you start,” Kristy threatened him.

  “No, I just mean, it’s no fun to fall for someone and find out they won’t
fall for you, despite your considerable charms.”

  “Puh-lease.” Kristy groaned.

  Ignoring Kristy, Charlie continued, “But the worst thing you could do is to give him any hope at all. What you have to do is explain that it’s a lost cause. That you will not now, or ever, date him. Make the situation plain. And don’t take any more gifts from him. Give them back. That’ll help get the point across. Plus, it’ll hit him in the wallet, which is a great way to get someone’s attention.”

  “That’s it?” I said.

  “That’s it,” Charlie said. “Simple. Easy.”

  Simple, maybe, but easy? No.

  I only wished it were. Still, I was glad to know that Charlie thought I was doing the right thing.

  As if I hadn’t had enough Ross torment that day, the first word Anna said to me when I walked in the door was, “Ross —”

  Before she could go on, I held up my hand. “No,” I said. “No Ross. I’m declaring this house a Ross-free zone.”

  “But all I was going to say was that I bumped into him in the hall, and he seemed so nice. Maybe if you went to the dance, just gave him a chance —”

  “If you like Ross so much, why don’t you go to the dance with him?” I interrupted her.

  That stopped Anna. When she did speak, I could tell I’d ruffled her feelings too. She shook her head. “That’s not an option. He asked you, not me,” she said almost sadly. “He wants to go out with you.”

  “Not necessarily…. Not the real me … not …”

  But Anna was walking away, still shaking her head.

  It was at that moment that an idea, equal in brilliance to one of Kristy’s Great Ideas, began to take shape in my brain.

  So this was the plan. Anna liked Ross. Ross liked me. But he didn’t really like me, because he didn’t know me. And since he liked classical music and talking to Anna (and was much better at talking to Anna than talking to me), all I had to do was bring them together and make Ross see that it was really Anna he liked.

  How was I going to do that? By being sneaky.

  At school on Thursday, I lingered at my desk after English class. Ross stopped by. “Hi, Abby,” he said.

  “Hi, Ross.” I gathered up my books. “Looks as if Ms. Colley is getting over her romance with the sonnet, doesn’t it?”

  “I guess.”

  “Anyway, I was wondering,” I went on as we strolled out into the hall, “if maybe you could come by my house this afternoon. I think we need to talk.”

  Ross’s eyes lit up. “This afternoon? Sure. No problem. What time?”

  “Five-thirty? Is that too late?”

  “No. Five-thirty. Perfect.”

  “See you then,” I said, making my escape.

  “Yes. Right. See you later, Abby.” He said my name with a look that might have melted some people. Not me. But if I could just get him to say Anna’s name like that, then, as Shakespeare said … “all’s well that end’s well.”

  When I caught up with Kristy and explained the plan to her, she was clearly impressed. “It could work,” she said.

  “Could? It better work,” I answered. “Now, be sure and call me at five-forty, okay? You have to call on time. Otherwise it could turn messy.”

  “Am I a person with a reputation for being late?” Kristy asked. “I think not.”

  “Good,” I said.

  I had lined up Ross and Kristy. Now all I had to do was convince Anna to go along with the plan.

  I’m sure you’ve guessed what it is. The old “leave them alone together” ploy. Ross would arrive, Anna and I would both talk to him, the phone would ring, I’d talk to Kristy for a nice long time, and when I returned, Ross would have realized who his one true love really was.

  I just hoped Anna would agree.

  At first, she didn’t. “Abigail Stevenson, are you completely out of your mind?” she cried.

  “No. Not yet. But Ross is sending me dangerously close to the edge.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “Come on, Anna. All you have to do is talk to him. What’s the big deal? And if you like him and he likes you, who’s crazy?”

  Anna thought about that for a moment. A little smile curved her lips. “Ross is nice,” she said.

  “He is, he is,” I agreed, then added hastily, “for you. Not for me.”

  “Okay. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Good,” I said. And mentally I added, “Good-bye, Ross.” If, after he’d spent a little time with Anna, he still hadn’t seen the error of his ways, I would give him the straightforward go-away talk Charlie had suggested. That would finish it.

  I was so right about Anna liking Ross. The closer 5:30 came, the more nervous she grew. She tore through her closet, trying on one outfit after another. She hated everything. Her hair was a mess (according to Anna). As Ross’s estimated time of arrival approached, I finally unbuttoned the shirt I’d been wearing. “Here,” I said. “Wear this. It’s my absolute favorite good-luck shirt.”

  Anna had just finished buttoning it up when the doorbell rang. I grabbed Anna’s sweater and pulled it over my head. As I did, I somehow managed to poke myself in the eye. When I finished blinking, I realized I’d torn a contact.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Abby!” wailed Anna.

  “I can handle it. Stay calm,” I ordered. I raced into the bathroom, ditched my contacts, grabbed my glasses, and threw open the door just as the bell rang a third time. “Ross!” I gasped.

  “Hi,” said Ross.

  “Come on in.” I stepped back and saw that he had brought flowers. I couldn’t identify them. And I didn’t want them. I was just about to tell him to take the flowers away, as Charlie had instructed, when Ross stepped past me, his smile widening. He held the flowers out — to Anna, as she came into the hall. “For you.”

  Anna said, “Oh!”

  Ross continued, “I love that shirt. You always look great in it.”

  He’d given the flowers to Anna. I, Abby, was no longer the object of Ross’s affections!

  Then his last comment sank in, and my heart sank with it.

  He thought Anna was me.

  Anna was leading Ross toward the kitchen, her face buried in the flowers. “Narcissus,” she said. “Where did you find these, in the middle of winter?”

  “My mom knows how to make bulbs bloom out of season,” Ross said. “Don’t forget, she’s a florist.”

  “A florist. Your house must be full of flowers.”

  “Year-round.”

  I was willing myself not to sneeze. “Why don’t we go to the family room?” I suggested.

  Ross looked surprised. Anna said, “Okay.”

  Then, right on cue, the phone rang.

  “It’s for me,” I said.

  Now Ross looked even more surprised. “I’m expecting a call,” I explained. “That’s how I know.”

  But already his attention had shifted back to Anna. As they walked out, I heard him say, “The shirt makes your eyes look different. I’m glad these flowers didn’t make you sneeze.”

  “But,” Anna said and stopped. She glanced over her shoulder at me. Now she had figured it out too.

  The phone rang a third time as Anna disappeared with Ross.

  I snatched up the phone, closed the kitchen door, and whispered, “Mayday! Mayday!”

  Kristy said, “Abby?”

  “The worst has happened,” I told her. “Ross has us mixed up. He thinks Anna is me!”

  For once in my life, I wasn’t trying to be funny, but Kristy gave a shout of laughter. “No way.”

  “I’m telling the truth. Kristy, what am I going to do?”

  Kristy stopped laughing. “Wow,” she said. “This is a spin I didn’t expect.”

  “No kidding. So how do I unspin it?”

  “I don’t know.” Kristy thought for a moment and then said, “Why don’t you just see how things go? You know, join them and … just see.”

  “That’s the best you can do
? That does not even register on the Great Idea scale,” I said.

  “I don’t hear any better ideas from you.”

  Kristy was right. “Okay,” I said. “But keep thinking. If you come up with anything, call me immediately.”

  “I will,” Kristy promised.

  After I hung up the phone, I stayed in the kitchen awhile longer. Part of it was cowardice, and part of it was to give Ross and Anna more quality time together. I figured that the better Ross liked Anna, the less likely he was to be upset by the little mix-up that had just occurred.

  They were in the middle of an intense discussion about music when I walked back into the family room. They were sitting on the couch, leaning toward each other, totally engrossed in the conversation.

  “Hi,” I interrupted. “Having a classical moment?”

  “Uh,” said Ross, “yeah.”

  “Great. I just wondered if you would like anything to eat or drink,” I said.

  Anna answered. She said, “No thank you, Anna.”

  So Anna hadn’t told Ross who she was.

  “Are you sure, Abby?” I asked.

  Her eyes met mine. She nodded. She was sure about the masquerade, even if I wasn’t.

  I heard the back door open. Then Mom called, “Hello? I’m home!”

  Anna and I panicked. Mom could tell us apart — and she would give us away. I turned and hurried out to stop her.

  Ross said, “I’m kind of thirsty, actually. What do you have?”

  “Water,” I said. I heard Mom open the hall closet and take off her coat. “Uh, orange juice. Soda. Diet soda … milk.” The door to the hall closet closed. “Apple juice?”

  “Apple juice sounds good.”

  “It’s on its way,” I said, and tried to make a quick exit. I nearly bowled Mom over.

  “Abby!” she said. “What’s the rush? And why are you wearing your glasses? I thought they drove you crazy in the cold weather.”

  Behind me I heard Ross say just one word:

  “Abby?”

  “Hi, Mom,” I said. “This is Ross. He goes to school with me and … with us. Ross, this is our mom.”

  “Hello, Ross,” Mom said.

  “Hello,” Ross managed to say, but his eyes darted between me and Anna.

  Anna looked as if she felt a little sick. Ross stood up.

 

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