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."
CHAPTER 11
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
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."
CHAPTER 11
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
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