Logan Likes Mary Anne ! Page 7

  I laughed. "All right. I'll call Dad."

  "Call me back after you've talked to Logan."

  "Okay. 'Bye."

  I depressed the button on the phone, listened for the dial tone, and called my father at his office.

  His secretary put me through right away.

  "Hi, Dad," I said.

  "Oh, hi, Mary Anne. I'm in the middle of something. Is this important?"

  I was forced to talk fast. "Sort of," I replied. "Stacey's having a party at her house. It's for both boys and girls. We're supposed to ask guests. Can I go? And can I invite Logan?"

  "Will Mr. and Mrs. McGill be at home during the party?"

  "Yes," I said, even though I hadn't asked Stacey about that. I was sure they would be at home, though.

  "What time is the party?"

  "It starts at six."

  "You may go if you'll be home by ten, and if you meet Logan at the party."

  "Oh, thanks, Dad, thanks! I promise I'll be home by ten! I promise everything!"

  I called Logan with a bit more enthusiasm than I'd felt before. I punched his phone number jauntily — K-L-five-one-zero-one-eight.

  Logan answered right away.

  "Hi," I said. "It's me again. Mary Anne Spier."

  "I know your voice!" he exclaimed.

  "Oh, sorry."

  "Don't apologize."

  The call was already going badly. I wished I could rewind time and start over.

  "Urn ..." I began.

  "Hey," said Logan, more softly. "I'm really glad you called. You never call me. I always call you. I'm glad you felt, you know, comfortable enough to call."

  (This was better, but still not the conversation I'd imagined.) "Well, I have to ask you something. Not a favor. I mean . . . Stacey's having a party. I wanted to know if you'd — you'd go with me. If you don't want to, that's okay," I rushed ahead. "I'll understand."

  "Slow down, Mary Anne! Of course I want to go. When is it?"

  I gave him the details.

  "Great," he said. "I can't wait."

  As long as I was doing so well, I decided to ask Logan one more question. "Have you thought anymore about joining the Baby-sitters Club?"

  Pause. "Well, I said I didn't want to join."

  "I know, but ..."

  "I'll think about it some more, okay?"

  "Okay." (After all, the rest of us hadn't decided that we wanted Logan to join.)

  There was some muffled whispering at Lo-gan's end of the phone, and then he said, sounding highly annoyed, "Mary Anne, I have to get off the phone. I'm really sorry. My little sister has a call to make that she thinks is more important than this."

  "It is!" cried a shrill voice.

  I laughed. "I better get off, too," I told Logan.

  So we hung up. But I had one more call to make. "Hi, Stacey?"

  "Hi!" she said. "Did you call Logan already? Did you call your dad?"

  "Yes and yes."

  "And?"

  "And I can come and Logan's coming, too."

  "Oh, great! Awesome! Fabulous! I can't believe it!"

  Stacey was so excited that her excitement was contagious. My heart began pounding, and I was grinning.

  We hung up.

  Ring, ring.

  "Hello?"

  "Mary Anne! What on earth have you been doing? What happened to your ten-minute

  limit? I've been calling you forever!"

  "Kristy?"

  "You ought to get call-waiting or something. Did your dad take away your limit? . . . Oh, yeah, this is Kristy." (Click, click.) "Oh, hold on, Mary Anne. We've got another call coming in over here." (Kristy put me on hold for a few seconds.) "Mary Anne?" she said, when she was back on. "That was Stacey. I better talk to her. Call you later. 'Bye!"

  The plans for the birthday surprise were in full swing — and I suspected nothing.

  Ill

  Chapter 13.

  I dressed carefully for Stacey's party, even though I didn't have much choice about what to wear. My best-looking outfit was the one I'd worn to the dance, so I decided to put it on again.

  By six o'clock I was ready and had to kill time. Stacey had originally said that the party would start at six, but that afternoon she'd called to say that everything was going wrong and could I come at six-thirty instead?

  "Sure," I'd replied. "I'll call Logan and let him know."

  "Oh, no. Don't bother," said Stacey quickly. "I'll call him. I have to call everyone else." She was talking very fast. I decided she must be nervous about the party.

  So at 6:15 that night, dressed in my famous-cities skirt, the pink sweater, and the lethal white shoes, I was standing around in the kitchen

  while my father started his dinner. At 6:25, I flicked on the TV and watched the news. At 6:35, I decided not to leave quite yet because I didn't want to be the first to arrive at the party. Finally, at 6:40,1 left for Stace/s. I wished I could have walked with Claudia, but she had told me that she and her mom were going to pick up Austin Bentley first. I kind of got the feeling that I wasn't wanted.

  When I rang Stacey's bell at 6:451 could hear an awful lot of voices inside. Stacey flung the door open. "Oh, you're here!" she cried. "Come on in!"

  I stepped inside.

  "Let's go downstairs. Everyone's in the rec room," she said giddily.

  "Gosh," I replied, "it sounds like everyone else has already arrived." I glanced at my watch. "I'm sorry I'm so late."

  "Oh, you're not — not late," said Stacey. "I guess the others were early."

  All of them? I wondered. "Is Logan here?" I asked.

  "Yup. You're the last to arrive."

  That made me feel a little uncomfortable, but I tried to shrug the feeling off. I still wasn't suspicious. After all, I was used to feeling uncomfortable in a crowd.

  Stacey and I descended the stairs to the rec

  room. On the way down, I thought of something important. "Stacey, your parents are home, aren't they?"

  "Yes," Stacey answered, "but I made them promise not to come into the rec room. I think they're in the kitchen. That way, they can keep an eye on the food and an ear on the party."

  From my vantage point halfway up the stairs, the start of Stacey's party looked a lot like the start of the school dance. Although the tape deck was playing loudly, no one was dancing. The girls were bunched up in a corner, and the boys were bunched up by the table where Stacey had put out pretzels, potato chips, M&M's, soda, and salad.

  Austin Bentley was tossing pretzels in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. Mostly, he missed.

  Alan Gray had put yellow M&M's in his eyes and was going around telling the boys he was Little Orphan Annie.

  Pete Black was dunking potato chips in his Coke before eating them.

  Across the room, Dori Wallingford was showing her new bracelet to Claudia, who was pretending to be impressed, but who was really watching Austin toss the pretzels in his mouth.

  Kristy was whispering to Dawn, who was giggling-

  Emily Bernstein was saying loudly, "Alan Gray is so immature," and glaring at Kristy — for having invited him, I guess.

  As Stacey led me down the stairs it seemed — for just an instant — that everyone stopped talking, that the entire room paused. But I decided it was my imagination. The room was as noisy as ever when I reached the bottom of the steps.

  I looked for Logan. Before I found him, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and there he was.

  "Hey," he said, giving me his wide, warm grin. "How ya doin'?"

  "Great," I replied.

  "Boy, you look nice."

  "Thanks, but this is the same outfit I wore to the dance."

  "You still look nice."

  A phone on the wall nearby began to ring. "Mary Anne, can you get that?" yelled Stacey from across the room.

  I picked up the receiver. "Hello, McGills' residence."

  With all the music and talking, it was hard to hear the person on the other end of the line, but I thought
the voice said, "Hello, this is the Atlanta Pig Corporation. When would you like your pig farm delivered?"

  "What?" I shouted.

  "We have a pig farm reserved in the name of Stacey McGUl. When would you like us to ship it to you?"

  "Just a sec." I paused, putting my hand over the mouthpiece. "Stacey!" I yelled. "Come here!"

  Stacey edged through the rec room. "What?"

  "It's for you. Something about ... a pig farm?"

  Stacey got on the phone, frowning. "Hello ... A pig farm? . . . Justin Forbes, is that you? You are so immature!" Clunk. She hung up. Stacey turned to Logan and me. "Justin's all bent out of shape because he wasn't invited to the party," she informed us. She went back to Claudia and the other girls.

  Immediately, the phone began to ring again.

  "I'll get it this time," said Logan, reaching for the receiver. "Hello, Disneyland. Goofy speaking. How may I help you?"

  I giggled.

  "He hung up," said Logan, pretending to look surprised. "I can't imagine why."

  Nobody was dancing and only the boys were eating. Logan steered me toward a couch. "Lef s sit down," he said. "Wait, I'll be right back."

  I sat, and a few minutes later, Logan returned with two cups of soda and a bag of

  pretzels. We sipped our sodas in silence for a few moments but for the first time, our silence seemed comfortable, not uncomfortable. Then Logan asked me a question and we began to talk. We talked about school and our families. Logan told me about Louisville, and I told him about wanting a cat. We talked for so long I lost track of the time. I didn't even hear all the noise around me, except for when Alan Gray shouted, "Let's play Spin the Bottle!" and Emily Bernstein shouted back, "You are so immature, Alan!"

  It was as if Logan and I were in our own world, and nobody and nothing else existed. A scary thought occurred to me. Was this part of being in love? Nah. I was only twelve-going-on-thirteen. I couldn't really be in love . . . could I?

  "You know," said Logan, polishing off his Pepsi, "I'm glad to be getting to know the real Mary Anne. This is the real Mary Anne, isn't it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, when I first met you, I liked you okay, but you were so quiet and shy. I've never known anyone as shy as you."

  "Believe it or not, I'm better than I used to be."

  "You're kidding!"

  "No, really. . . . Well, maybe I'm still not very good around boys."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah."

  Logan considered that. "If you could just open up more — I mean, be the way you are right now — people would have a much easier time getting to know you. I almost didn't ask you to the dance, you know."

  "Why did you ask me?"

  "Because you're different from other girls. More . . . something."

  "More what?" I asked, puzzled. I really wanted to know.

  "More serious. Not serious like some old professor, but serious about people. You listen to them and understand them and take them seriously. People like to be taken seriously. It makes them feel worthwhile. But you have a sense of humor, too, which is nice. The only thing is, sometimes you're too sensitive. I really wasn't sure things would work out between

  us."

  "I've always been too sensitive," I told him.

  "AUGHH! AUGHH! HELP!"

  The room was slowly darkening and everyone was screaming.

  "Oh, would you guys grow up," said Sta-cey's impatient voice as the lights brightened

  again. "I was dimming the lights. I just wanted to make things more romantic."

  I smiled at Logan and we looked around. While we'd been talking, the boys and girls had started to mingle. Claudia and Austin and some other kids were dancing. Alan was torturing Emily with his Little Orphan Annie eyes. Most of the food was gone.

  "I'm sending Dad out for pizza now," Sta-cey informed me.

  Mr. McGill returned later with three pizzas (which he wasn't allowed to bring into the rec room) and they were eaten in no time. After Logan and I finished our slices, we sat on the couch again.

  For the second time that night, the lights began to dim. Only this time, they went all the way out and nobody screamed. In the darkness, I heard only some muffled whispering and sensed that someone was coming down the steps.

  Suddenly the lights were turned on full force, and everyone began singing "Happy Birthday."

  I felt totally confused. What was happening? Stacey hadn't said this was a birthday party. Not until the kids sang, "Happy birthday, dear Mary Anne," did I understand. Then I saw that Stacey was at the bottom of the stairs

  carrying a big birthday cake that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARY ANNE in pink frosting and glittered with lighted candles. Behind her were Kristy and Dawn, each holding a stack of gifts.

  Stacey set the cake on a table next to Logan and me. Kristy and Dawn piled the presents on the floor near my feet. Logan held out a small box wrapped in silver paper and tied with a silver bow.

  Silence had fallen over the rec room. The song was finished. Austin had paused in his pretzel-throwing. Alan was staring at me with his blind M&M eyes. Pete had stopped in the middle of a dunk, and the soggy potato chip had fallen into his Coke. Claudia, Dori, and Emily were standing in an expectant bunch, a safe distance from Alan, their eyes on me. All the guests were waiting for me to react, to blow out the candles, to cry, or something.

  It was a nightmare. It was like one of those dreams in which you go to school naked, or study and study for an important test and then sleep through your alarm clock and miss it.

  I had only one thought: I had to get out of there.

  So I did.

  I ran up the stairs, out the McGills' front door, and all the way home, leaving my nightmare behind.

  Chapter 14.

  "Mary Anne," my father exclaimed as I barged into our house. "What are you doing home so early? I thought you were going to call me for a ride when the party was over."

  "Sorry," I replied. I slowed down and caught my breath. I didn't want my father to know anything was wrong. I just couldn't explain this to him.

  "Everything okay?" asked Dad.

  "Oh, sure. The, urn, party broke up early."

  Dad looked suspicious. "Were Mr. and Mrs. McGill there?" he asked.

  "Oh, yes. Stacey wouldn't let them go into the rec room, but they were right in the kitchen the whole time. Honest. It just wasn't a very good party. No one was having fun. So it kind of ended."

  "I'm sorry," said Dad, and he really did look sorry.

  "Me, too," I replied. "Well, I'm tired. I guess I'll go to bed."

  I went slowly up to my room and stretched out on my bed, but I had no intention of going to sleep. I hadn't even taken my party clothes off. How dare Stacey have done that to me? I thought. She knows how I feel about parties and people and surprises and being the center of attention. My other friends know, too. Especially Kristy and Dawn and Logan. But they had all let it happen.

  I was beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Everyone had known about the cake except me. I must have been the only one who was told to arrive at six-thirty. The others had probably come at six, as originally planned, so I wouldn't see them arrive with gifts. That's why Claudia hadn't wanted to go to the party with me.

  I lay there, and the memory of the lights coming on flooded back: everyone singing, Stacey with the cake, Kristy and Dawn with the presents. I recalled that Logan had been grinning at me like a Halloween mask. How could he? Hadn't we just been talking about how I was shy and quiet? I took people seriously, but no one took me seriously.

  I felt tears streaming down my cheeks, but I didn't bother to dry them. I had run away.

  I had humiliated myself. As mad as I was at Stacey and my friends, I realized that they had wanted to do something nice for me, and I hadn't let them. I'd spoiled everything.

  But still . . . how could they?

  I looked at my watch. I'd only left the party fifteen minutes earlier. Any moment now, Lo-gan or Stacey would
call. The thought cheered me. They would apologize for embarrassing me, and invite me back, and say they didn't know what they could have been thinking.

  I tiptoed to my door and set it ajar so I'd be sure to hear the phone when it rang. Then I lay on my bed again.

  When another ten minutes had gone by, I realized that Stacey (or Logan) was probably going to come over instead, to give things the personal touch. Of course. That was just like them.

  I opened my window a crack so I'd hear them when they got to the front door. I hoped Dad had left the porch light on. I peeked outside. He had.

  When an hour had gone by and my room was chilly with the night air, I knew that no one was going to call or come over. My stomach felt like I'd swallowed a brick. I'd really blown it this time. I should have seen it coming. My friends had finally had enough of my

  behavior. I'd gone one step too far. No one likes a party-spoiler, no matter how well he tries to understand that person. And Logan had surely decided that I wasn't right for him after all. I really was just plain too shy.

  Well, I was sorry I was different. I couldn't help it. But it was their fault for doing something they knew I wouldn't enjoy.

  My anger was no comfort, though. All I could think was that I'd lost my friends. I tried to cheer myself with the thought that the last time that had happened I'd been forced to make a new friend — and I'd found Dawn. But the thought wasn't all that cheery. I didn't want any new friends now. I only wanted Kristy and Dawn and Stacey and Claudia and Logan.

  Tomorrow might be a good time to ask my dad for a cat.

  I fell asleep with my clothes on and awoke to a beautiful Saturday morning. But it felt bleak to me. As soon as I saw my famous-cities skirt, the awful evening rushed back. I realized that the brick was still in my stomach.

  It was nine o'clock. Dad had let me sleep late. I felt as if I hadn't slept at all, though. I staggered to my feet, washed up, and changed

  my clothes. I found my father in the living room, drinking coffee and reading some papers for work.

  "Morning," he greeted me.

  "Can we get a cat?" I replied.

  Dad raised an eyebrow. "What brought this on? . . . Oh, your birthday, right? I didn't forget, Mary Anne. We'll do something special on the big day. I was thinking of dinner at a restaurant in Stamford. Wouldn't that be fun? I've got some presents, too." Dad grinned. "And I had a little help picking them out, so I know you'll like them."