Fabulous Five 022 - Melanie's Valentine (5 page)

Grandma Dee didn't say anything about Shane at supper, and
Melanie relaxed a little. But upstairs, as she was doing her homework in her
room, a new worry began to grow. Scott. How could she have forgotten that he
had said he would talk to her later? Later had to mean one thing. He was going
to call her tonight.

Melanie drew little doodles on the notebook page and tried
to plan what she would do. Maybe she could ask her parents to say she wasn't
home.

"Fat chance," she mumbled under her breath. They
would never do a thing like that. They would consider it lying, and besides,
they had always insisted that the only way to handle a problem was to face it.
But how could she face this one?

If only he would start liking someone else, she thought.
Then I wouldn't have to hurt him. The idea had possibilities, but she knew it
was just a dream. There was no way she could find someone else for him to like.

What then? Tell him I don't like him anymore? she asked
herself for the zillionth time.

Suddenly she heard the phone ring, and panic lifted her
straight out of her chair. "Oh, my gosh!" she whispered. "It's
him!"

Melanie raced to the door and opened it a crack. She could
hear her father saying hello. The bathroom was across the hall from her room,
and she made a mad dash into it and closed the door behind herself. She stood
there in the dark for a moment, listening to her heart pound. Then she switched
on the light and pressed her ear against the door.

"Melanie," she heard her father call from the
bottom of the stairs.

She bit her lower lip and waited.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Her father's heavy footsteps were
coming up the stairs. Then all was quiet for a moment. He was probably looking
in her room.

"Melanie?" he called again. "Where are you,
honey? You have a phone call."

"In here," she answered. "Who is it?"

"Scott," said her father.

Melanie swallowed hard. This was it.

"Um. I can't come to the phone right now. Okay?"
she said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"I'll tell him you're busy."

"Thank goodness," she whispered to the crack in
the door.

Melanie waited until all was quiet downstairs and then
opened the bathroom door and tiptoed back across the hall to her room. She sat
down at her desk again and stared at her homework, but she was too nervous to
concentrate.

All she could think about was Scott. She had had a crush on
him in fifth grade, but he hadn't been interested in her then. Or any other
girls, for that matter. But finally in sixth grade, things had changed, and he'd
started talking to her on the playground at Mark Twain Elementary. Next had
come the rumor that he liked her, and finally they had gone to a movie
together.

Being Scott's girlfriend had been so much fun, and she had
continued to like him even after she and her class entered Wakeman Junior High.
But then she had met cool, laid-back Shane Arrington. And eighth-grader Garrett
Boldt, the photographer for the yearbook, who sometimes let her be his
assistant. She had even been interested in Derek Travelstead for a while. But
gradually her crush on Shane had grown until she hardly thought about any boy
but him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone
again. "Oh, no!" she whispered. "He's calling back!"

Melanie zoomed out of her room and into the bathroom,
slamming the door and looking around in a panic.

"The shower," she mumbled. "I'm taking a
shower."

Turning on the water full blast, she plastered her ear to
the door again, but the shower was making so much noise behind her that she
couldn't hear a thing outside the bathroom.

She held her breath and waited until steam fogged the room
and her face disappeared from the mirror. Surely if it had been Scott calling
again, he had hung up by now. She pushed a damp strand of hair out of her eyes
and peered into the hall, feeling like a fugitive.

All was quiet, but when she crossed the hall to her room,
she found a yellow square of paper stuck to her door with the message "Scott
called again" written on it.

Melanie breathed a gigantic sigh of relief. She had
escaped—one more time. But how much longer could she keep this up?
Forever,
she assured herself, if that's how long it would take.

She started to sit down at her desk again but stopped to
measure the distance from the chair to the door with her eyes. She had been
able to make it to the bathroom without any problems both times the phone had
rung. But why take chances? she thought. She sat down cross-legged on the
floor, her back against the door frame, and listened. There was no use even
trying to do her homework now.

Melanie looked at her watch. 8:15. Still plenty of time for
Scott to call again. How long had it been since he last called? she wondered.
Ten minutes? Fifteen? She had no idea how long it had been between the first and
second calls.

"Rats," she mumbled. "If only I'd looked at
my watch then, I'd know when to expect him to try again."

Suddenly a sound caught her attention, and it wasn't the
ringing of the phone.

"Come on, Jeffy. Quit dawdling around," her mother
was saying. "It's time for your bath."

Melanie's eyes bulged in horror. Jeffy couldn't take his
bath now! Where would she hide when Scott called?

But two sets of footsteps were coming up the stairs, and
Melanie knew she was doomed.

"Wait till I get my toys," Jeffy shouted, and
scrambled down the hall to his room.

Melanie listened to her mother hum as she began drawing
Jeffy's bathwater. This could take forever, she thought. If Jeffy took his
plastic dinosaurs into the tub and played sea monsters, he'd turn into a wrinkly
sea creature himself before Mrs. Edwards could drag him out.

Melanie buried her head in her hands. "What am I going
to do?" she wailed. "Scott's going to call, and I'm going to
have
to talk to him."

The minutes ticked by. 8:18. 8:27. 8:32. She could hear
Jeffy splashing happily in the tub, but the phone didn't ring. Maybe Scott had
given up. Maybe she could put off talking to him until at least tomorrow. At
8:33 she stood up and stretched her arms high over her head.

"RIINGG!"
The sound of the phone startled
her so badly that she almost tripped over her feet. She looked around her room
in a panic, but there was no place she could possibly hide.

"Why, yes, Scott. She's here." Her mother's voice
floated up the stairs. "Just a moment. I'll get her."

In desperation Melanie took a deep breath and made a mad
dash for the bathroom. Ignoring Jeffy, who looked at her wide-eyed from his
tubful of bubbles, she knelt down by the toilet and made the worst wretching
sound she possibly could. Then she quickly flushed the toilet.

An instant later her mother came bursting into the room. "Melanie,
are you okay?"

Melanie shook her head. "My stomach," she said
weakly.

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Edwards.

"But she didn't really throw up," Jeffy said from
the tub.

"Hush, dear. Your sister is sick. I'll take care of you
in a minute."

"I think I'd better lie down," Melanie said as
earnestly as she could.

"But she didn't really throw up," Jeffy said a
little louder.

Mrs. Edwards continued to ignore Jeffy and helped Melanie to
her room, murmuring consoling words as she tucked her into bed. "You just
rest now, dear, and I'll check on you again in a little while. And I'll tell
Scott that you can't talk to him tonight."

"Scott?" asked Melanie, faking surprise.

Her mother nodded. "He's on the phone. But don't worry.
I'll take care of everything."

"Don't I
wish,
" Melanie said half aloud.

"What, dear?"

Melanie smiled weakly at her mother. "I just said
thanks."

By morning Melanie had made up her mind about two things.
First, she definitely was not going to the Valentine party with Scott when it
was Shane she really liked. And second, being able to tell Scott that she
already had a date would be the easiest way to turn him down. Of course, that
still left one small problem. Shane had to ask her to the party—and do it fast.
But she had an idea about that, too.

She dressed quickly, planning to leave for school a few
minutes early. There were some little shops near Wakeman that Shane rode past
on his bike every morning. She would browse in the windows and watch the
reflection in the glass until she caught sight of Shane approaching. Then she
would very casually saunter to the corner just as he
happened
to pass
by, and their paths would come together. Naturally, he would stop and talk to
her. It was a brilliant plan, if she did say so herself.

Grandma Dee was sitting at the table working a crossword
puzzle when Melanie got to the kitchen. She was wrapped in a woolly blue
bathrobe, and her feet were tucked into matching fuzzy slippers. Melanie smiled
in amusement at the pair of sunglasses beside her grandmother's coffee mug.
Didn't she ever go anywhere without them? Melanie wondered.

"Good morning, dear," Grandma Dee said cheerfully.
Then her expression changed to concern. "How are you feeling this morning?
Your mother tells me that you were sick to your stomach last night."

The statement jolted Melanie for an instant. She had
completely forgotten her little charade in the bathroom when Scott had called
the night before.

"Oh, I'm fine," Melanie assured her. "Guess I
just needed a good night's sleep." She grabbed a banana from the fruit
basket on the counter and a glass from the cupboard, and headed toward the
refrigerator for the milk.

"Well, at least let me fix you a good, solid breakfast,"
said Grandma Dee. She stood up, plopped her sunglasses on top of her head, and
marched toward the stove. "You need to get your strength back after
throwing up, and a banana and a glass of milk certainly won't do it. You have
plenty of time to eat before you have to leave for school. How do you like your
eggs?"

"Grandma Dee," Melanie pleaded. "I feel fine.
Honest. Besides, I need to leave a little early today."

"Nonsense. What would you do if you got sick again in
school? Or fainted? I remember once when I was in school, Dorothy Throgmorten
fainted dead away in the middle of geography class, and it was all because she
hadn't eaten breakfast."

Melanie opened her mouth to protest again, but just then her
mother came into the kitchen, scurrying around as she had done every morning
since she'd begun driving the teen taxi.

"Morning, everyone," called Mrs. Edwards. "How
are you feeling this morning, Melanie?"

"Great!" said Melanie, putting as much enthusiasm
into her response as possible. "I feel terrific."

"Well, if you ask me, she needs a good breakfast,"
Grandma Dee said sternly.

Mrs. Edwards took a sip of coffee and nodded. "Mmmm."
Then she swallowed and added, "I agree."

"But, Mom. I'm in a hurry," Melanie protested. "And
I've never felt better in my life."

Her mother sighed helplessly, looking first to Grandma Dee
and then to Melanie. "Your grandmother's right, you know. Let her fix you
something to eat, and you can ride to school with me in the teen taxi."

"Nothing's as important as your health," Grandma
Dee said triumphantly, taking two eggs and a tub of margarine out of the
refrigerator.

"Mo-
om,
" Melanie pleaded. "Do I have
to?"

Her mother nodded. "You seem well enough to go to
school, but I want you to have some breakfast before you go."

Melanie sighed. "I'll eat breakfast. Okay? But can't I
walk to school? There's nothing wrong with me. Honest!"

Melanie crossed her fingers behind her back. She knew that
her mom's teen taxi was a terrific service, picking up students who lived to
close to school to get the bus and too far away to walk. But ever since the
episode with Brian Olsen, who rode the teen taxi and had embarrassed her at
school with a terrific crush on her, she had avoided riding along whenever
possible.

Mrs. Edwards didn't answer, and Melanie knew her mother was
weighing the possibilities. She decided to play it smart and keep her mouth
shut for the moment. There was no use aggravating the situation.

By this time, Jeffy was coming into the kitchen in pajamas
with padded feet and a picture of Michelangelo, one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles, on the front. He stopped and blinked at Melanie as Grandma Dee set a
plate of scrambled eggs and a buttered English muffin in front of her.

"How come she's eating breakfast?" he asked in a
sleepy voice. "She never eats
eggs
on a school day."

"Melanie was sick last night, sweetheart," Grandma
Dee replied. "We don't want her to go to school with an empty tummy and
throw up again, now do we?"

Jeffy thought that over for a moment as he climbed up into
his chair. "But she didn't really throw up," he said softly.

Melanie shot him a warning look and muttered between
clenched teeth. "Shut up, would you?"

"Well, you didn't," he insisted a little louder.
Fortunately, neither her mother nor Grandma Dee had heard Jeffy, and Melanie
gobbled up her breakfast, keeping one eye on the clock over the stove. If she
hurried, she still might get to the corner ahead of Shane.

"Thanks, Grandma. That was a super breakfast,"
Melanie said as she rinsed her dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. "Now,
I've got to run. I really do have to get going a little early this morning."

Her mother had gone back upstairs without further insisting
that Melanie ride the teen taxi, so she threw her grandmother a big smile and
hurried to the hall closet, grabbing her favorite peach-and-white jacket. The
colors looked terrific with her reddish-brown hair, and she wanted to look her
best for Shane.

"Are you bundling up?" Grandma Dee called from the
kitchen. "It's cold out there this morning."

"Sure, Grandma," Melanie called back. "I'll
be warm enough. Don't worry."

The sound of slippers scuffing in the hallway made Melanie
cringe. "Let me see," said Grandma Dee as she appeared beside the
closet door. "What?" No hat? No gloves? No scarf? And that jacket. It
doesn't look very warm to me."

"It's fine," Melanie assured her. "It's
warmer than it looks."

Grandma Dee was frowning and staring into the closet. "How
about this one?" she asked, holding up Melanie's down ski jacket. It was a
bright yellow, and Melanie was sorry she had ever bought it. The color made her
face look as pale as Mr. Dracovitch's face under his Dracula wig. She certainly
didn't want to wear that jacket this morning.

"It's too fat to go into my locker," she said,
knowing that it was basically the truth. With all the other things in her
locker, she had to really stuff that jacket in to get the door closed.

"Well, at least wear a hat, gloves, and a scarf,"
Grandma Dee said resolutely. "I won't let you out of the house without
them." Her eyes were twinkling, but Melanie knew that she really meant it.

"Okay," Melanie said. "I'll wear all of that
stuff if it will really make you happy."

A smile lit her grandmother's face, and Melanie was glad she
had given in. She knew deep down that Grandma Dee was only trying to help.

A block from her house, Melanie stopped behind a tree. She
pulled off her ski hat with the pom-pom on top. It looked great on the slopes,
but it was a definite no-no for her mission this morning. Off, too, came the
gloves and scarf. They made her look as pudgy as a snowman. She stuffed them
into her backpack, gave her hair a quick brush to fluff it up after being
mashed under the hat, and took off at a run for the corner where she planned to
meet Shane.

She slowed to a jog as she got close. She had to be careful
now. If Shane saw her running, he might figure out that their meeting was
planned. She wished she had time to look at her watch, but she didn't. Not if
she was going to stay alert for Shane.

Half a block from the corner, she slowed again, this time to
a walk. Her face was hot from running, even though it was a cold morning, and
she was panting, sending little clouds of steam into the air. But if her plan
worked, it would definitely be worth it. There wasn't much traffic, and the
light facing her was red, which meant Shane would have a green right now.

Maybe I'd better speed up, she thought, but just then a
bicycle soared through the intersection. It was going so fast that it was
almost a blur, but Melanie was still able to make out the rider. It was Shane.

She stopped in her tracks. "Oh, no!" she moaned
out loud. "I missed him! I can't
believe
I missed him!"
Putting her hands on her hips, she stamped a foot. "And it's all Grandma
Dee's fault!"