important, my brain had turned to Silly Putty.
I sneaked a quick glance at Randy. He was walking along with that stack of books as if he didn ' t have a care in the world. I racked my brain, trying to remember all the dumb rules I had ever heard for making conversation with a boy.
Number one, ask about a school assignment. I couldn ' t do that. School would be out in a couple of days, and Wiggins had stopped giving assignments.
Number two, be funny. Tell jokes. Make him laugh. HA! At a time like this? Whoever made up that rule had to be kidding.
Rule three, compliment him. I swallowed hard. I could tell him how handsome he is. I could . . .
" Curtis says he has big plans for his party Friday night, " said Randy, bringing me crashing back to reality.
" Really? " I said out loud, but my mind was screaming, The party! Why didn't I think of that? It only took me an instant to recover. " Well, I just hope that some of the rowdy kids don ' t get into trouble, " I said slyly.
" Why do you say that? " asked Randy.
" Clarence Marshall says that Curtis ' s parents aren ' t going to be home. " I laughed nervously.
Randy turned his big blue eyes on me for a moment, and my heart almost stopped. Was he going to say something about our being together at the party? Or even being alone together now that he knew Curtis ' s parents wouldn ' t be snooping around?
Shaking his head, he said, " Don ' t pay any atte ntion to Clarence. You know how he is. He ' s always making up things to get attention. Alexis even said he ' s been going around telling all the girls that he wants to kiss them at Curtis ' s party. He ' s probably even said it to you. "
I nodded and fought down a blush. This conversation wasn ' t going the way I wanted it to. I would have to think of another approach to get Randy to say something about our being together Friday night.
We had reached the Media Center, and Randy balanced his stack of books on one arm and opened the door for me. He was so polite. Not like some guys w ho were icky polite. Curtis Trowbridge, to mention one person in particular. Randy just did nice things for people as if they came natural to him.
After we left the things with Mrs. Birney and headed back to the sixth-grade room, my mind was whirring as I went over the rules for making conversation with a boy again. I might never get a more perfect opportunity, and there were only enough books and papers left for one more trip to the Media Center. The only trouble was, even if I thought of the perfect thing to say, it probably wouldn ' t do any good. Randy liked Jana. Everybody knew that, and whenever I closed my eyes and saw his face, hers was always there, too, making me miserable. Sometimes, when I was feeling especially miserable, I would write about it in my diary.
Dear Diary:
Today Randy took Jana to Mama Mia's for pizza after the football game. He didn't just sit with her when he got there. He asked her ahead of time, so it was a real date. And to make matters worse, everybody was there and saw them together.
Dear Diary:
It's Saturday night, and I'm really depressed. I thought this time I had broken up Randy and Jana for sure. I thought I had fixed things so that he would ask me for a date to go to the movies with the rest of the gang. I was wrong. He asked her instead. They are together at this very minute and I'm home alone.
Dear Diary:
Randy Kirwan is the most wonderful boy in the world, but I don't understand why he likes Jana instead of me. I talk to him all the time to let him know how much I like him. I smile at him. What else can I do to make him see that it's me, not Jana, who is the perfect girl for him?
Just as we reached the classroom door, I got a brilliant idea. Randy liked to do nice things for people. It just came natural. Of course. That was it. I would ask him to do me a favor. And I had the perfect favor to ask him. I would have to stretch the truth a little, but it would be worth it. And if I