Stacey And The Mystery Of Stoneybrook by Ann M. Martin Read Free Book Online

try to get up. Why do waiting rooms always have such ugly furniture? Charlotte put her head in my lap and closed her eyes. I stroked her hair. It's the worst feeling when you're sick and you have to be anywhere but home in bed.
    Charlotte seemed comfortable, so I looked at the table by the couch to see what magazines they had. Oh, boy. I had a choice between a July 1979 Reader's Digest and this month's Highlights for Children. I picked up Highlights, just to see if it had changed any since I used to look at it in my pediatrician's office. Nope. There were good old Goofus and Gallant, same as ever. Even as a kid I'd thought that Gallant was kind of a goody-goody.
    I was still paging through the magazine when the outer door opened and the most gorgeous guy walked in, holding the hand of a little boy who must have been his brother. I stared. Blond curly hair, blue eyes ... he
    reminded me of Scott, this lifeguard I'd had a crush on once in Sea City, New Jersey. He looked back at me, and then I saw his gaze fall to the magazine I was holding. I dropped it like a hot potato. He smiled at me, as if to say he understood.
    I was totally humiliated. Luckily, the receptionist called Charlotte then, and I went with her into the examining room, still blushing.
    The examination didn't take long. Dr. Dellenkamp knew what it was right away.
    "Tonsillitis again?" Charlotte wailed.
    "That’s right, Charlotte. Back on the old penicillin," the doctor said. "We may have to do something about those tonsils at some point," she said to me quietly as Charlotte hopped off the table. "But for now, since her parents are away, we'll just hit the germs again with this." She wrote out a prescription.
    "Charlotte has trouble taking pills, so we usually give her liquid penicillin. She should take a teaspoon of it four times a day. She'll feel better pretty quickly — in a day or so, I'd say."
    The doctor put her arm around Charlotte as we walked out. "I know you must miss your parents, but you be a good patient for Stacey. She'll take care of you just fine," she said. She
    winked at me as we said good-bye.
    My mom was waiting for us. Fortunately, the gorgeous guy was busy keeping his little brother's hands out of the aquarium, so I was able to dash out of the waiting room without meeting his eyes again.
    We stopped by the drugstore to pick up Charlotte's prescription. As soon as she saw the bottle she started to ... well, she started to whine. There's no nicer way to put it.
    "I hate that stuff," she moaned. "It tastes so awful that I want to throw up when I take it. Do I have to take it? Oh, I want my mommy. It's not fair!"
    I knew how she felt, but really. Her whining was a little hard to take, especially since she didn't let up the whole way home.
    When we got to our house, I went into the kitchen for a spoon. Charlotte stayed in the living room, where she'd thrown herself on the couch. When I walked in, she turned over so that her face was buried in the pillows.
    "I won't take it," she said. "I'd rather be sick."
    I rolled my eyes. "Charlotte, look. It says 'New Cherry Flavor' on the bottle. Maybe it'll taste better than last time." I opened the bottle and sniffed the liquid inside. Oh, ew. It did
    smell vile. There's nothing worse than that fake "cherry" flavor, unless it's phony banana. Yick.
    "It smells okay, Charlotte," I lied. "Come on, all you have to take is a teaspoon. If you hold your nose, you'll hardly taste it. And I'll make you an ice-cream soda with ginger ale. You can drink that to take away the bad taste." I was bribing her, and I knew it. This wasn't the right way to go about getting that medicine down her throat.
    "No," she said flatly. Oh, well. My bribe hadn't worked anyway. She burrowed deeper into the couch cushions. This was really getting frustrating. I tried not to feel angry at Charlotte. She wasn't feeling well, she missed her parents, she. was worried about her grandpa, and she was stuck in a strange house. I guess I might