Every Wednesday, Emma met with Mr. Goddard to discuss her posts and how things were going with her blog. Emma thought he was definite boyfriend material for Ms. Bates! Sure, he was balding and wore bow ties practically every day, but he was also kind and concerned about his students, and he always listened carefully to what they had to say. She was sure that underneath that wrinkled navy cardigan sweater was a big heart just waiting to find its perfect match!

“So it looks like you had about a half-dozen more emails asking about the Sadie Hawkins Dance,” he said, looking over her inbox with her. “Do you plan on answering all of these by Friday?”

“I’m organizing them into categories,” Emma explained. “So I can answer two or three at a time. Like these three are what I call ‘fashion freak-outs.’ These students don’t know what to wear or if they should dress to impress at the dance. I’m going to give them some style advice.”

“I see,” Mr. Goddard commented. “And what about this one?”

Emma read the question over carefully. “Oh, that’s an easy one. This girl needs a quiet spot to ask a boy to the dance without all his buddies hanging around and listening in. I’m going to tell her to sit under the big oak tree at the edge of the soccer field—that’s a nice, quiet, little spot that not a lot of people know about.”

“You certainly seem to have things under control,” Mr. Goddard said, impressed. “I’m sure your fellow students are very grateful.”

“Well, now that you mention it, there is one question that has me a little stumped,” Emma said, pulling a piece of paper out of her backpack. “I printed it out to show you. Maybe you have some ideas?”

She handed Mr. Goddard an Ask Emma letter she had typed herself—pretending to be in Principal Bates’s shoes:

Dear Emma,

I always seem to have so much work to do! I never have time to look for love, because I am up to my ears with my responsibilities. I wish I knew where I could find someone who likes the same things I do: tea, glazed donuts, Shakespeare’s sonnets. Do you think there is someone out there looking for love himself?

Signed,

Busy Bee

Emma watched as Mr. Goddard read the note. “So what should I write?” She opened her laptop. “Dear Bee . . .”

“Emma, I don’t think this note is from a fellow seventh grader,” Mr. Goddard said, slowly. “I think it might be from an adult.”

“Really?” Emma pretended to be shocked. “Do you know of an adult who works all the time and likes to drink tea and eat glazed donuts at her desk while reciting Shakespeare?”

Mr. Goddard cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I don’t.” Emma suspected her advisor knew exactly who fit this description but wasn’t about to admit it.

“Well, whoever it is seems very interesting,” Emma added. “I think I’ll go look up some Shakespeare quotes for my response.”

She left the computer lab and hid behind the door to the storage closet, waiting to see what Mr. Goddard would do next. Sure enough, he walked out of the room, slicked his hair back with his hand, and headed down the stairs, straight for Ms. Bates’s office.

“It’s working!” Emma squealed. She ran down the stairs and straight into Jax, who was checking the track-meet schedule on the bulletin board outside of the main office. Great, the last thing she needed was for him to distract her!

“Did Mr. Goddard just go in there?” she asked him.

“Um, yeah, I think so. Why?”

“No reason,” Emma fibbed.

Jax watched as she paced back and forth outside the office. “I know there’s a reason,” he said. “When you’re this anxious, there’s always a reason.”

Emma ignored him and tried to stand still—but her feet had a mind of their own.

“Are you in trouble? Is that why Mr. Goddard went in to talk to Principal Bates?”

Emma scowled. “Seriously? Why do you always assume the worst, Jackson? Why do you always think I’m up to something that will get me in trouble?”

“Um, because I know you, Emma,” he replied. “When you have your mind set on how to help someone, you go for it, no matter what the consequences will be.”

Emma finally stopped pacing. That sounded strangely like a compliment.

“I’m not in any trouble—not that I know of,” she said. “But thanks for worrying about me.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Jax said. “I have other things to do with my time.”

Now that sounded like a brush-off!

She had no time to give Jax a piece of her mind—she had to hear what was going on inside Ms. Bates’s office. She stood at the door with her ear pressed against it, trying not to look too obvious.

“Is there something you need?” the school receptionist, Ms. Iyala, asked her.

“Nope. Just hangin’ out, waiting to ask Mr. Goddard a question. I saw him go in.”

She handed Emma a yellow Post-it Note. “I can take a message for you and give it to him.”

“It’s okay,” Emma said. “I don’t mind waiting.”

Ms. Iyala frowned. “Well, I mind you waiting, Emma. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

She did have a point; at this rate, she was going to be super late to English. Luckily, the phone rang and Ms. Iyala was distracted—leaving Emma just enough time to eavesdrop.

“That’s very interesting, Judith,” she heard Mr. Goddard say. “I had no idea.”

Ooh! Maybe Ms. Bates had asked him to the dance! It sounded like he was about to say yes!

“I’ll definitely consider it.”

Consider what? Was he crazy? He had to think about it? Suddenly, she heard the knob on the door turning. She raced outside and hid behind Jax.

“Emma, what are you doing?” Jax said, trying to step aside.

“Just cover me, will ya?” she said, grabbing his soccer jacket out of his hands and tossing it over her head so Mr. Goddard wouldn’t see her as he walked by.

When the coast was clear, she handed him back his bomber. “Not what you had hoped for?” he asked, noting the disappointment on her face.

“No, not exactly,” Emma said. But she wasn’t about to give up yet. Maybe Ms. Bates and Mr. Goddard didn’t know they were perfect for each other. She’d have to give them a nudge.

Emma searched the library bookshelves until she found a single leather-bound volume entitled Shakespeare’s Love Sonnets. She pulled the book down and cracked it open, searching for just the right poem to make her point perfectly. If Ms. Bates loves Shakespeare, then her suitor would have to speak the language.

Finally, her eyes landed on a phrase: “So are you to my thoughts as food to life. . . .” She wasn’t quite sure what it meant—but it would be the perfect note to accompany a dozen Yummee Cream Donuts left for Ms. Bates on her desk. How could she resist both Shakespeare and donuts?

All she had to do was get to school early, get Ms. Bates out of her office, and sneak in and place the treats where her principal was sure to see them.

“You want us to do what?” Harriet put her hands over her ears as Emma explained her plan on the school steps. “No way, Emma. Marty and I are not getting involved in your matchmaking between Mr. Goddard and Ms. Bates!”

“Do I have to remind you that you and Marty are going to the dance together—and that I had something to do with that?”

“Um, you almost broke my nose,” Marty chimed in. “I’m not sure I owe you a favor for that.”

Harriet patted him on the back. “You tell her, Marty. If Ms. Bates ever catches us breaking into her office, we’ll be in deep, deep trouble.”

Emma knew she had to appeal to Harriet’s love of love. Her BFF was a real softie when it came to romance—she cried every time she watched the Troy and Gabriella karaoke scene in High School Musical. “But just picture Ms. Bates’s face when she sees this thoughtful, sweet gift on her desk! She’ll fall head over heels for Mr. Goddard.”

Harriet hesitated; Emma sensed she was about to cave. “Just think of how happy they’ll be—just like you and Marty!” she urged her. “Come on, Harriet. How can you say no to love?”

Harriet looked at Emma, then at Marty, then back at Emma. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Great! We’ll do it tomorrow morning. Marty, you tell Ms. Bates you smelled something burning in the school cafeteria and she has to come quick. Harriet, you keep watch while I sneak in and put the donuts on her desk.”

“What happens when there’s no fire?” Marty asked. “Then what?”

“Then you say, ‘Oops! Sorry, I must have been wrong,’ and she’ll go right back to her office and find a lovely token of affection from her secret admirer.”

“Wait, you’re not telling her it’s from Mr. Goddard?” Harriet asked. “How will she know then?”

“An air of mystery will only add to the romance,” Emma explained. “She’ll figure it out.”

“Or not,” Marty said, chuckling. “But at least she’ll have a dozen donuts.”

They agreed they would get to school at seven sharp—just before Ms. Bates would be arriving and keying into her office.

“As long as everyone sticks to their job, nothing can go wrong,” Emma told her BFF and her BFF’s BF. Then she thought to herself, I hope.