Taffy Sinclair 002 - Taffy Sinclair Strikes Again by Betsy Haynes Page B
Authors: Betsy Haynes
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walk sexily and stuck my hip out as I took another step. Swing, step. Swing, step. I felt like I was jerking along instead of swinging. I slowed down. I didn't want Randy to think I was spastic. He was still smiling when I got to him so I flipped my pretend long hair over my shoulder and looked into his eyes.
"I forgot to do my math homework last night," he said. "Can I copy your answers?"
"Yeah, me, too," said Mark.
"Me, too," said Scott.
I had to be dreaming. The three cutest boys in the whole sixth grade had asked to copy my homework. They hadn't asked Christie Winchell or Curtis Trowbridge, and those two were mathematical geniuses. They had asked me, and it was all because I had sent them messages in body language.
When the first bell rang, we went into the building to our lockers. Randy and Mark and Scott were still walking with me when I passed Christie standing beside her locker taking off her coat. I couldn't resist making my eyes into poison darts and looking at her over my shoulder again. I could tell she got my message because she stuck out her tongue.
After we got to class, I sent hate messages to my three other FORMER friends and was just settling down to daydream about Randy during another boring morning of school work when Wiggins struck again. She had written the day's assignments on the board and had sat back down at her desk when she stood up again so fast she looked like a rocket launching into space. She just stood there a minute or two, sniffing the air.
"Chewing gum!" she thundered. "Everybody stand at attention."
Wiggins has this thing about chewing gum. She hates it and swears she can smell it half a block away. Naturally, every so often some kid decides to test her nose. I stood up with everybody else, wondering who it was this time. The routine was always the same. Wiggins would go up and down the aisles, sniffing away like a bloodhound until she found who was chewing gum. Then she would take the guilty kid to the front of the room and go through this big ceremony of having him wrap it up in a tissue and throw it into the trash. The routine was always the same, and she never missed.
Everybody stood as stiff as pokers for the first couple of minutes. I could see Melanie out of the corner of my eye, and I was secretly hoping that it was one of my FORMER friends who had gum in her mouth, but I knew it probably wasn't.
By the time Wiggins got to the second aisle, everybody was beginning to get restless. Kids were starting to grin and pantomime messages to one another. I could see Taffy Sinclair up by Wiggins's desk, and I could tell by the way her hip stuck out that she was sending messages to cute boys. Then I got this great idea. Wiggins was still a long way away. With any luck at all, it would take a few more minutes for her to locate the chewing gum. This was the perfect time for me to practice body language again. After all, I had just proved to myself how well it worked on the school ground. There was no telling what else I could do with more practice. I just had to watch Taffy and do what she did.
I shifted my weight so my right hip stuck out, and I put my hand on it the way Taffy was doing. She was looking around really slowly and smiling at every boy who looked at her. It was the same kind of smile I had given Randy before. I would try it again. I started looking around really slowly, too, and smiling at every cute boy that looked back. I hadn't realized before that there were so many cute boys in the sixth grade. Of course, I goofed a few times. Once Sally Schmidt thought I was smiling at her, and she started pantomiming something about Wiggins and her nose. Another time, I was aiming my smile at Mark Peters and drippy Clarence Marshall got in the way. It seemed like every boy in the whole class looked at me except Randy. I didn't care. He had already gotten one message. Then I decided to stick out my left hip and look over my left shoulder at any cute boys that were sitting behind
"I forgot to do my math homework last night," he said. "Can I copy your answers?"
"Yeah, me, too," said Mark.
"Me, too," said Scott.
I had to be dreaming. The three cutest boys in the whole sixth grade had asked to copy my homework. They hadn't asked Christie Winchell or Curtis Trowbridge, and those two were mathematical geniuses. They had asked me, and it was all because I had sent them messages in body language.
When the first bell rang, we went into the building to our lockers. Randy and Mark and Scott were still walking with me when I passed Christie standing beside her locker taking off her coat. I couldn't resist making my eyes into poison darts and looking at her over my shoulder again. I could tell she got my message because she stuck out her tongue.
After we got to class, I sent hate messages to my three other FORMER friends and was just settling down to daydream about Randy during another boring morning of school work when Wiggins struck again. She had written the day's assignments on the board and had sat back down at her desk when she stood up again so fast she looked like a rocket launching into space. She just stood there a minute or two, sniffing the air.
"Chewing gum!" she thundered. "Everybody stand at attention."
Wiggins has this thing about chewing gum. She hates it and swears she can smell it half a block away. Naturally, every so often some kid decides to test her nose. I stood up with everybody else, wondering who it was this time. The routine was always the same. Wiggins would go up and down the aisles, sniffing away like a bloodhound until she found who was chewing gum. Then she would take the guilty kid to the front of the room and go through this big ceremony of having him wrap it up in a tissue and throw it into the trash. The routine was always the same, and she never missed.
Everybody stood as stiff as pokers for the first couple of minutes. I could see Melanie out of the corner of my eye, and I was secretly hoping that it was one of my FORMER friends who had gum in her mouth, but I knew it probably wasn't.
By the time Wiggins got to the second aisle, everybody was beginning to get restless. Kids were starting to grin and pantomime messages to one another. I could see Taffy Sinclair up by Wiggins's desk, and I could tell by the way her hip stuck out that she was sending messages to cute boys. Then I got this great idea. Wiggins was still a long way away. With any luck at all, it would take a few more minutes for her to locate the chewing gum. This was the perfect time for me to practice body language again. After all, I had just proved to myself how well it worked on the school ground. There was no telling what else I could do with more practice. I just had to watch Taffy and do what she did.
I shifted my weight so my right hip stuck out, and I put my hand on it the way Taffy was doing. She was looking around really slowly and smiling at every boy who looked at her. It was the same kind of smile I had given Randy before. I would try it again. I started looking around really slowly, too, and smiling at every cute boy that looked back. I hadn't realized before that there were so many cute boys in the sixth grade. Of course, I goofed a few times. Once Sally Schmidt thought I was smiling at her, and she started pantomiming something about Wiggins and her nose. Another time, I was aiming my smile at Mark Peters and drippy Clarence Marshall got in the way. It seemed like every boy in the whole class looked at me except Randy. I didn't care. He had already gotten one message. Then I decided to stick out my left hip and look over my left shoulder at any cute boys that were sitting behind
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