MRS. ZIEGLEBAUM MIGHT have been able to keep Jan away from us on New Year’s Eve, but once school started, I was back to seeing her every day again. Jan acted like nothing had happened, so I decided to hope that my theory about Mrs. Zieglebaum was wrong, and to wait and see what developed.
Besides, I had enough to worry about at Huntington. Like how I was going to go back to the Manhattan School and face Jeremy.
I saw now how big a mistake it was to have signed up for just one club. With the service club as my only extra-curricular activity, I had no choice but to stick with it. If I quit, I would be out of the running for the top ten eighth graders. I wasn’t going to let that happen—not after I had put in so much work to keep my grades high.
Besides, I really liked working with the blind kids at the Manhattan School. And I certainly enjoyed doing art. Actually, I enjoyed Jeremy, too—before he complicated everything by acting as if he liked me as a girlfriend.
To make matters worse, Jan was absent the day of our first club meeting. That meant I had to face Jeremy on my own. I decided to meet the problem head on. With a little luck, maybe Jeremy had forgotten he liked me over the vacation. Maybe he had quit the Creative Arts Club. Maybe there was a way I could avoid him altogether.
He was sitting near the door to the art room when I arrived that afternoon. He was busy showing some little kids how to cut something out of folded pieces of paper.
I thought quickly. Maybe I could just tiptoe around to the other side of the room and start working with someone over there. If I was quiet enough, maybe Jeremy wouldn’t even notice that I was there. Then I would just say a quick “hi” and “good-bye” to him, right before it was time to leave.
It didn’t work. Jeremy’s senses are almost uncanny. Even though I tried my best to be quiet, he must have recognized my footsteps or something. Because he called out, “Hi, Linda! Come see what we’re doing here!”
Well, I certainly didn’t want to be rude to him. Reluctantly, I walked over to his table.
“What are you making?” I asked. But, all the while, my mind was struggling to think up an excuse to get away from him as soon as possible.
“Snowflake pictures,” he said. “First you cut the white paper into a six-sided shape. Then you fold it up and cut out little designs. When you open it again, you get a lacy pattern like a snowflake.” He unfolded the paper he was working on so I could see what he had done. “You make all different sizes, then paste them on a black background to get a really dramatic picture.”
“Hey that looks great!” I admired a finished work. “Let me try that!” Forgetting my whole plot to keep as far from Jeremy as possible, I sat down across from him and began helping a partially sighted seven-year-old cut the paper correctly. Maybe I was better off just acting natural and pretending nothing was different with Jeremy.
I kept my hands busy cutting so Jeremy couldn’t get near them. I tried to stick to safe topics of conversation, like what he did when he was home for Christmas vacation. The only problem came when he asked me about what I had done on my vacation.
“Well—I—er—” I stammered. For what could I tell him? That the whole focus of my vacation had been to work on getting closer to Louie, the boy I was crazy about? If Jeremy liked me, that would be the last thing he wanted to hear.
So I just told him about the whole group in general—the Gruesome Four, gawky Nicky, loudmouth Lenny, handsome Sheldon and Louie, and Danny, the genius. I told him how Roz and Fran were finally getting closer to the boys they liked and how Jan’s mother thought it was all just terrible.
Jeremy listened to me intently the whole time. He laughed at the funny parts of my story and was really sympathetic about what happened with Jan.
I could tell from watching his expression that his feelings hadn’t changed. He still liked me. I did like him, too—as a friend.
Jeremy was so nice that it made me feel worse than ever that I couldn’t like him as a boyfriend. I just hoped that nothing further would come up along those lines so I would never have to hurt his feelings.
* * *
A new bowling alley opened up in our neighborhood for the new year. Danny, Louie, and Marty decided to form a team that bowled every Saturday morning. Much to my surprise, Danny and Louie stopped by my house one Saturday and asked me to come along with them.
“Our team needs a lucky charm,” said Danny with a grin. “And we’ve decided you’re it, Linda!”
“Me? You want me to be your lucky charm?”
“Sure! Why not?” said Louie.
“Well, what do I have to do?”
“Not much. Just come with us whenever we bowl and root for us. That’ll bring us good luck,” Danny explained.
“Well, okay. I don’t have much else to do on Saturday mornings, anyhow,” I said. I quickly calculated that I’d have to get up an hour earlier in order to get the vacuuming and my other chores done in time to go with them to the bowling alley. But what was a little sleep to sacrifice for the opportunity to be lucky charm for Danny and Louie?
When we arrived at the alleys, Marty had already found their assigned lane. “Hi, Marty!” I sang out. “Guess who’s going to be your lucky charm?” But my joyful mood was immediately shattered when I noticed that Marty had someone with him.
It was a girl. A girl I’d seen before. A girl I didn’t like, even though I had never spoken to her.
She had to be the bustiest girl in the whole neighborhood, and she obviously wasn’t trying to hide the fact. She wore a tight T-shirt and tighter pants. She had on tons of make-up—red lipstick, black eyeliner, and bright green eyeshadow.
Marty introduced her to everyone. “This is Renee Berkley. We’ve been going out together recently.”
Going out with Marty! I looked at Renee with increasing admiration. I knew Renee was the same age I was, but she had an older boy for a boyfriend—even if it was only Marty. Renee had achieved success!
I decided to watch every move she made. Maybe I could pick up some hints on the way mature girls should act.
That morning, I spent more time observing Renee than I did watching the boys bowl. What I saw made me feel sick. I could never act like Renee did. She was totally open about flirting with the boys. She went right up to them, batting her mascara-covered eyelashes and gazing into their faces.
She talked incessantly in a high-pitched voice. Whenever one of the boys made a comment, she giggled as if it was the funniest thing ever said.
When we first arrived, she hovered around Marty. At time went on, I noticed her spending more and more time with Louie!
She flitted around him, applauding whenever he made a strike. “Great shot, Louie! What an arm you have, Louie! You’re really some fantastic bowler, Louie!”
You would think that Louie was her boyfriend and not Marty. Marty kept on bowling and didn’t even seem to care. But I did! I felt this cloud of gloom settling all around me. I grew quiet and sat stiffly on the bench, my chin cupped in my hand.
Louie was in his glory. He bowled his highest score, ever. Every game was over two hundred.
“Oh, Louie! You’re wonderful!” Renee gushed in her squeaky voice. “I think I’ll come here every Saturday just to see you bowl!”
Louie beamed. “Why don’t you do that? We can always use another good luck charm!”
I felt awful. Good luck charm was my special position. How could Louie be so cruel as to ask Renee to be one, too?
* * *
Maybe Louie has a heart after all. Maybe he realized how crummy I was feeling. At any rate, after Marty and Renee had left to go home, he made this marvelous suggestion.
“I have to babysit for my little brother, Jacky, this afternoon,” he said. “How about coming along to my house to help me, Linda?”
“Really?” My eyes opened wide. Louie was actually asking me to come to his house! “Sure, I’ll come. That is, if my mother lets me. She’s just full of ridiculous restrictions!”
“I’ll ask her for you,” Danny volunteered. “Your mother trusts me.”
With Danny there to plead my case, my mother agreed to let me go to Louie’s. But only for one hour. I had to be home so she could “supervise” my lunch. What a pain my mother could be!
Louie’s mother was nothing like mine. She looked happy to see Louie bring home some friends. “Sorry I have to run.” She smiled warmly as she went out the door. “But you kids just make yourselves at home while I’m gone—there’s plenty of food in the refrigerator.”
“Yeah, Louie, make me some food. I’m hungry!” a little voice squeaked.
I looked down. There was a miniature Louie.
“This is my little brother, Jacky,” Louie said, scooping him up in his arms. “Jacky, say hello to Linda.”
“Hi,” he said shyly, ramming his thumb into his mouth. “I’m hungry, Louie,” he repeated.
“Okay, Jacky.” Louie put him down. “Let’s see what there is to eat in the kitchen. Come on, Linda.”
I followed them into the kitchen and watched while Louie searched through the refrigerator. “Hhmm. Looks like my mother left us hamburgers. How are you at cooking hamburgers, Linda?”
“Great!” I replied. “I’ve had lots of experience cooking hamburgers.” Actually, my experience was limited to the one time I had cooked when my mother was sick. I had burned those hamburgers pretty badly. But I wasn’t going to tell Louie that. I figured I could do better this time, anyhow.
“Here’s the frying pan.” Louie was pulling things out of a cabinet. “Here’s the spatula. And here’s the oil.”
“Oil? What do you need oil for?” I asked.
“Why to fry the hamburgers in, of course,” he informed me.
“We don’t use oil when we make hamburgers,” I insisted. “The hamburger has enough fat of its own.”
“Well, I like my hamburgers fried in oil.”
“Okay, okay!” I gave in. “It’s your stomach. If you want your meat swimming in fat, it’s your business. I’ll make it any way you want!”
I put the pan on the burner and turned on the gas. Louie poured in the oil and let it heat up. Jacky stood holding Louie’s pants leg, still sucking his thumb.
A warm feeling went through me. I could almost imagine that Louie and I were grown up and married and that Jacky was our son. How great it would be to have our own apartment. We could do whatever we wanted. There would be no one to give us orders. We could be together every day. We would cook together just as we were doing now.
The oil began sizzling. The pan was hot. Louie took out the hamburger patties and tossed them into the pan. Hot fat went spattering in all directions.
“Watch out!” Louie yelled, pushing me away. It was too late. Grease stained my shirt from top to bottom. I could feel my lip throbbing where a glob of fat had landed.
“Ow! That hurts!” I said, rubbing the painful spot.
“Don’t do that! It will only make it worse,” Louie warned. “Here, let me take a look at that.” He held my face and tilted it up to the light. I forgot all about the pain.
“A little ice should help that,” Danny suggested. Louie went to the freezer and took out a cube.
“Here, hold this on your lip.” He placed the ice on my lip and pressed down carefully. I looked up into his eyes.
“Louie! Louie! The hamburgers, Louie! I’m hungry!” Jacky insisted. “You’re letting the hamburgers burn!”
Sure enough, smoke was pouring from the pan! I put the ice down and quickly flipped the hamburgers over with the spatula.
“I hope you like your hamburgers well done,” I commented. “These look charcoal-broiled!”
“I’ll just have to pour on lots of ketchup.” Louie laughed.
“You’re some cook, Linda!” Danny teased.
“I told him not to use oil,” I pouted. “Next time maybe you’ll listen to me. Women always know their way around the kitchen better than men do!”
“That’s not true, either,” Louie insisted. “It’s always men who are the greatest chefs!”
I shut off the gas and plopped the burnt burgers down on some paper plates. I guess the boys must have been really hungry, because they ate them, anyhow.
As they were finishing eating, the telephone rang. “It’s for you, Linda.” Louie handed me the receiver. “Your mother.”
I glanced up at the clock. I had been gone almost two hours.
“Hello, Ma,” I began feebly.
“Well, Linda? Isn’t there a clock in the house you’re in?”
“Yes, Ma. But—”
“Didn’t you agree to come home in an hour?”
“Yes, Ma—but—I’m sorry.”
“Don’t, ‘I’m sorry’ me, Linda! I want you to come home right this instant! Unless you don’t want to be allowed out for the rest of the week.”
“I’m on my way, Ma!” I hung up the phone and took a deep breath. “I’ve got to go,” I said to Danny and Louie. My face burned with embarrassment at being treated like such a baby in front of the boys.
“Too bad,” Louie said with a laugh. “I was just about to ask you to cook another batch of hamburgers!”
“I think I did enough cooking for today,” I responded. But now I was laughing, too.
“Well, maybe some other time, then,” he grinned.
“Sure!” I said as I threw on my jacket and raced out the door. I ran down the eight flights of stairs. There wasn’t time to wait for the elevator if I wanted to escape my mother’s wrath.
I arrived home breathless, but happy, ignoring my mother’s mumbled disapproval and the blister that was developing on my lip. It had been a great day, but the best of it was that Louie was talking as if we had a future!