Read All About It! (10 page)

“The cookies are made with spelt flour, sweetened with agave
nectar. They have dried cherries and pistachios in them. And here”—she
offered me my glass of milk—“skim and organic, baby, with extra vitamin
D!”

I was glad for the distraction. I selected a cookie and took a careful
nibble. It wasn't bad. Then I
took a swig of milk and
carefully eyed Hailey over the rim of the glass, my face hidden from sight by all that
milk.

Hailey had no idea what I now knew. And I couldn't imagine how I
was going to get through the rest of the night pretending like nothing had happened.

“Oh, hey! I have a new message! Oh look! It's from
Michael!” Hailey's face was glowing and her smile beaming so wide it
practically touched both of her ears. How could I not have noticed before that she loved
him? Am I a total idiot?

Then I had a sickening thought:
What if he liked her
back?!

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Bad enough to have
your best friend betray you by falling in love with your lifelong crush, but to have the
crush like her back?! Oh my goodness! My face burned hot but my body felt cold. I was in
a full panic.

“Let's see . . . What does he say . . .” Hailey was
clicking around Buddybook happily. No wonder she was all up-to-date on that cute photo
Jeff had posted of Michael at football practice. I
was surprised it
wasn't
her
screensaver!

“Yay! Sammy, he has your notebook! He says, ‘Tell Pasty I
found her notebook. If she gives me a call, we can arrange a drop-off,' and then
it has his phone number. Hey! We should call him!” Hailey turned to me with a look
of excitement on her face. “Want to?” she added.

Now I was starting to understand. I was kind of the pawn in her crush.
She could use me as the buffer or the go-between, as an excuse to check in on Michael
and talk to him and everything. Like she's reporting back to me, but it's
really for her.

“No,” I said in as flat of a voice as I could manage.

“What?” Hailey looked surprised. I think she'd been
assuming I'd say yes.

I felt a mean prick of pleasure at having burst her bubble. Ha! Take
that! I'm not going to be your excuse to call your lover boy. No way.

“Why?” she asked again, kind of forlorn.

I shrugged, relishing my power. “I'm tired. I just want to
go to sleep. I'll deal with it in the morning. Anyway, he'll probably have
read through the whole thing and he'll have something mean to
say about my reporting skills and my to-do lists. It's all just . . .
embarrassing. Why did it have to be him who found it?”

Hailey was reluctant to give up. “All right. If you say so . .
.”

“I say so. Plus, he'd just tease me and call me Listy or
Trippy or Pasty or one of those annoying nicknames.”

Hailey bit her lip and was quiet for a minute. “At least you
have
nicknames from him.”

That made me mad. “What? You'd like your lifelong crush to
call you insulting names based on your personality flaws or mistakes you made when you
were five?
That's
fun,” I said bitterly.

Hailey shrugged. “Okay, maybe not
those
names . . .”

“Yeah . . .” I said, nodding hard, “definitely not
those
names.”

I kind of hated Hailey right then. I almost wanted to tell her flat out
that I knew she loved Michael too and that she couldn't have him. But then
I'd have to leave, and since it was eleven o'clock, that would not be easy
to pull off.

“I think we should just go to sleep,” I
said.

Hailey raised her eyebrows. “O-kayyy . . .” she said. Eleven
was early for us on a sleepover.

“I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” I shrugged and
rummaged in my overnight bag for my toothbrush. Inside, I was furious.

Hailey was bummed. This night hadn't turned out so well, but it
was kind of her fault, even though she didn't know it. Whatever. It might be the
last sleepover we ever have, anyway.

“Fine,” said Hailey.

We were asleep ten minutes later. Or at least, she was. I hardly slept a
wink all night.

The next morning I just wanted to get out of there. I called my mom
first thing and she said she'd be over to pick me up at nine. I figured I should
pick up my notebook on the way home, so I asked Hailey for Michael's number from
the Buddybook page and she was all too eager to get it for me. She offered to dial and
ask for him, but I had to silence her with a glare and do it myself. Now that I knew
for a fact that she liked him, all of her actions took on a new
significance and she was getting more annoying by the minute.

I was nervous to call him but my eagerness to get my notebook back as
well as my aggravation with the two of them empowered me. I punched in the numbers and
prepared myself to get an answering machine.

“Hello?”

Oh. I hadn't had a moment to compose myself and Michael was
already on the phone.

“Hi, Michael. It's Sam.”

“Hey, Pasty. Calling about your notebook?”

I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. “Yup.”

“You must be lost without it. I was flipping through it and
that's . . . that's a lot of information you've got in
there.”

Great. He was flipping through it. “Yup,” I said, wondering
how much he had read. “So where should I meet you to get it back?”

“Oh. Well, I'm at home now for a little while before my
game. You could come here, or I could drop it by later . . .”

“I'll come by,” I said. “My
mom is picking me up from Hailey's house in a few minutes, so we could be over
soon.”

“Great! Okay! So I'll see you soon!” He sounded pretty
chipper.

“Okay. Bye.” I hung up.

There was a thick silence in the kitchen and I didn't know how to
break it. Finally, Hailey did.

“You didn't even thank him,” she said quietly.

“What?” I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Well, he found your notebook for you. You . . . you should have
thanked him. I mean, you'd be lost without it, right?”

She was right. I felt my face grow warm, but I quickly got mad that
Hailey was bossing me around all the time now.

“I'll thank him when I see him,” I said.
“Anyway, why do you care?”

Hailey shrugged. “I just don't think you're very nice
to him.”

“So?”

“He's pretty nice to you . . .” Hailey said.

“Not really,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh, whatever!” Hailey was annoyed now, and on one level, I
didn't blame her. I was acting pretty mean and cranky and she had no idea why. But
the rest of me felt like: Too bad! You lovebirds are ruining my life and I hate you
both!

There was a honk outside and I looked out the window. It was my mom in
her Jeep, here to pick me up.

“Well . . . thanks,” I said.

“Yeah, anytime,” Hailey said, not that nicely.

I sighed and picked up my bag.

“Say hi to lover boy for me,” she said as I left.

Yeah, right. “Okay,” I said. “See you later!”
And I closed the door behind me.

Chapter 12

MARTONE
DISTRAUGHT OVER TURN OF EVENTS

My mom was happy to see me, if a little perplexed because I usually
just stay all day after a sleepover. But I explained about my notebook and I played the
workload card and she bought it.

We were at Michael's house in less than two minutes, and my mom
pulled up at the curb so I could run to the door.

I climbed the steps to the front porch and reached out to ring the
doorbell, but the door flung open and Michael was standing there, freshly showered (yet
again), in a faded green T-shirt and old jeans. He looked gorgeous. It kind of took my
breath away for a minute.

“H-hi,” I stammered. I felt supershy and
overwhelmed seeing him looking so good and being at his house and everything. It
was different than running into him at school.

Michael grinned. “Hi. I saw you pull up. Cool Jeep.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Thanks. It's my
mom's.”

“Cool mom,” he said.

I nodded. “Most of the time.”

“Want to come in?” he asked, opening the door wide and
gesturing with his arm.

“Oh . . . uh . . . no thanks. I . . .” I peeked in and I
could see a really pretty hallway with striped wallpaper. Plus an amazing cinnamon smell
was coming from the kitchen. I was dying to go in and look all around. But I felt so
awkward. It was weird enough being at his front door, never mind touring around the
house. Plus Mom was sitting in the car. “Oh! Well, my mom is waiting.”

“Mikey?” It must have been his mom calling from the kitchen.
“I think your cinnamon buns are ready!” She came walking out, her low heels
clicking on the hardwood floor. Michael's mom is
really
pretty. I've seen her before. She's a lot older than my mom but still really
pretty, with that same tan skin and dark hair, and the same light eyes that he has.
“Hi!” she said with a big, friendly smile. “You must be
Samantha!”

I smiled back and held out my hand. I was really nervous, like more
nervous than I'd been before. “Hi. It's nice to meet you,” I
said, shaking her hand.

“Oh, such good manners! I'm glad Mikey found your notebook!
I'd die if I lost my FiloFax, where I keep everything!”

I nodded. “I know. Thanks so much,” I said to him, finally.
“Really! I really appreciate it.” I thought about what Hailey said and
winced. “I was worried all night, so . . . really, thanks.”

“Oh, it's no big deal. I know how attached you are to that
thing. And when the coach had me run out to pick up the cones, I saw it just lying there
in the grass where we'd been juggling, so . . .” He shrugged.

His mom looked back and forth between us and smiled. “Maybe
I'll go grab the cinnamon buns so they don't burn. Would you like to come
and have some? Mikey just made them, especially . . .”

“Okay, Mom. Thanks!” Michael
interrupted her. “Kitchen. Burning buns! Thanks!” He waved her away.

“Bye, Samantha! It was nice to meet you!” She waved and ran
off.

Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Mothers!” he
said, embarrassed.

I looked at him. “What are you baking for?” I asked. He was
so manly; I couldn't picture him baking anything. This was like a whole new side
of Michael Lawrence.

His face turned red. “Oh, nothing. I just . . . you know.
They're really tasty. Are you sure you wouldn't like one? Are you sure you
don't want to come in?”

I felt so shy and nerdy it was almost physically painful. I just wanted
to get out of there at that point and put myself out of this miserable awkwardness. But
at the same time, Michael Lawrence was inviting me in for a snack! Ha! Take that,
Hailey!

I glanced out to my mom in the Jeep. She waved and smiled. Michael waved
back.

“I think I'd better go . . .” I said reluctantly.

“Okay, that's fine! Totally! I understand. You
probably have a million things to do today. So. Okay. Let me just
grab . . .” Michael awkwardly tried to stretch to the hall table while still
holding the door but it wasn't going to work.

“Here,” I offered. I stuck my foot out to prop open the door
as he reached for the notebook.

“Hey, Pasty,” he joked, “careful with that door near
my hand!”

I must have turned bright red. “Oh!” I said, and pulled my
foot back fast.

“I was kidding!” said Michael, handing me the notebook.

“Right. Well, thank you so, so much,” I said. “Really,
I can't thank you enough.” Somehow I felt bad about not coming in. Like I
was even being a little rude, as if I'd been expected.

It seemed like neither of us knew what to do next.

“Well, bye!” I said. I turned away but Michael's mom
came running to the door.

“Wait! Samantha! You've got to try one of Mikey's
cinnamon buns! He makes the best!”

“Mom!” Michael protested. He was mortified, I could
tell.

She handed me a pretty paper napkin with a big,
squishy cinnamon bun that was dripping with frosting.

“Wow!” I said. I was impressed. “You made this?”
I asked Michael.

He nodded.

“Yum! Thanks! Thank you both, so much, for everything!” I
said. “See you!”

“Bye!” Michael and his mom stood in the doorway and waved as
I walked back to the Jeep. I waved back and then got in.

“Yum!” said my mom, looking at the bun.

“I know,” I said. “Total yum!”