Boy. Friend. (Sweet Valley Junior High, Band 5) - Softcover

Suzanne, Jamie; Pascal, Francine

 
9780553486643: Boy. Friend. (Sweet Valley Junior High, Band 5)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0553486640 ISBN 13: 9780553486643
Verlag: Bantam USA, 1999

Inhaltsangabe

Kristin thinks dating Mike is the smart way to keep her crush on Brian a secret, yet her plan backfires when Brian becomes confused by her actions and wonders why such a wonderful girl like Kristin would date the worst guys around. Original.

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Aus dem Klappentext

You shouldn't date your best friend--even if you really want to. Right?

Kristin has had a crush on Brian Rainey since about...forever. Of course, she would totally die if he ever found out. Brian just thinks of her as a friend. That's why it's so cool that Mike asked her out. Now she has someone else to crush on--and she gets to stay friends with Brian. Perfect.

Brian thinks Kristin is so sweet and smart. So he doesn't get it. Why do the coolest girls always go for the jerkiest guys?

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

"Kristin! Watch out!"

I whirled around to see what Brian was talking about. Too late. An ocean of sticky pink punch showered down onto my head. My hair was completely soaked.

"Uh. I guess I shouldn't have put the bowl on top of the refrigerator, huh?" Brian asked in a sheepish voice.

I just stood there with my eyes closed for a moment, counting to ten. Why did I even volunteer to help Jessica Wakefield clean up in the first place? I thought. Actually, I knew the answer to that. I liked Jessica. I had to respect the way she wasn't afraid to stand up to people who treated her wrong. She stood up to my best friend, Lacey Frells, once--and I know that's not easy. And tonight Jessica had tossed a bunch of drunk high-school guys out of her party--which had been the biggest bash of the year until it got a little out of control. Okay, majorly out of control. Now Jessica was trying to put the living room back together while here I was, standing in her kitchen, covered in sticky goo.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Brian," was all I could say.

He handed me a paper towel, and I tried to blot my hair dry. That's when Brian burst out laughing. "It's not funny," I insisted. Then I looked down at my sweater. I had already spilled punch on it earlier in the evening, and I was now definitely getting the multilayered tie-dyed effect. I giggled. I might look horrible, but at least I could claim I was retro. "Okay," I admitted, "it is pretty funny."

Brian laughed even harder. "You look great as a redhead," he said. "I mean, as a pink head. That color makes your eyes look really blue."

I gave him a lopsided smile, wondering whether he actually meant that. I didn't really care--it was a nice thing for him to say whether he meant it or not. It's pretty hard to get mad at Brian, even when he acts like a total space case. Hard, but not impossible.

"When did this night go so wrong?" I asked no one in particular.

Brian considered a moment. "I think about the time the cops showed up."

We both cracked up. No doubt about it, this had been one wild party.

But that's another story.

I looked back down at my soaked clothes and made another attempt to dry them with the paper towel. "Great," I said as bits of paper towel came off all over my outfit. "This new sweater is toast," I moaned. "My mother's going to kill me--we just bought it!"

"Maybe she'll think you've improved it. That sweater wasn't really your color anyway."

I finally gave up scrubbing at my sweater and glared at Brian. Couldn't he stop joking for one minute? "Like I really want fashion advice from someone who obviously doesn't even know his own pants size."

Brian looked hurt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Instead of his usual tidy khakis and T-shirt, Brian was wearing baggy jeans, an even baggier green sweatshirt, and, to top it off, a hideous, faded brown baseball cap. He had pulled the cap backward over his longish blond hair so that it totally covered his eyebrows.

Brian glanced down at his outfit. "My sister said this look was way cool," he- told me.

"Well, Addie thinks Ronald McDonald dresses cool," I said. "And that's exactly who you look like. Why don't you get some big, floppy shoes to go with the rest of your enormous clothes?"

We just stood there a minute, staring at each other. I think he was pretty surprised that I'd just gone off like that. Usually I keep my cool. But it was late, and I was tired. I guess that was why I didn't feel like apologizing right then.

"I'd better find Jessica," I said finally, heading through the door. "Maybe she'll lend me a dry shirt to change into."

"I'll call and get us a ride home," Brian said. "And don't worry--wet or dry, you'll always be beautiful to me!" I heard him chuckle.

If only. I sighed. I've had a crush on Brian since the sixth grade. Of course, I'd never tell him that. We're really good friends, and I don't want things to get weird just because I think Brian is cuter than Hanson and twice as nice.

Jessica nearly dropped the broom she was using to sweep the living room when she saw me. "What happened to you?"

"Don't ask," I told her.

Bethel McCoy was crouched on the floor, sweeping paper into a dustpan. "You're a mess," she said. Bethel is never one to mince words.

I nodded. "Tell me about it. So, Jessica, could I borrow a shirt or something?"

"Sure," she said. "Elizabeth's upstairs. She'll show you where the bathroom is and where my T-shirts are. Take whatever you need."

"Thanks," I said, heading for the stairs.

I found Jessica's twin cleaning up in her room. She gaped at me. "What happened to you?"

"I got into a fight," I explained. "The punch bowl won. Jessica said I could borrow a T-shirt."

Elizabeth waved me into the bathroom. "Why don't you clean up first?" she suggested. "I'll find you something to wear."

I tried to get clean, but my hair was a total disaster. One big, gooey strand hung over my forehead, plastered down with sticky punch. I tucked the rest of my hair behind my ears, but that one strand kept falling out.

Then I washed my face. Unfortunately, my formerly carefully applied mascara created a raccoon effect under my eyes. The only difference being that raccoons are cute.

I studied myself in the mirror. Pulling my hair behind my ears made my face look totally round. We are talking Night of the Living Doughnut. Usually I think I look pretty good. Don't get me wrong--supermodels don't have to worry about the competition or anything, but Lacey always tell me that I have pretty eyes and nice hair. And she's not the kind who would lie.

Pretty eyes weren't going to save me now, though. The sweater that formerly fell nicely at my waist was now stuck to my stomach in an extremely unflattering way. I sighed. Maybe my mom is right, I thought. Maybe I should just lose a few pounds.

I frowned, remembering all of the diets she'd tried to put me on. There was one all-grapefruit number that was supposed to be "very cleansing." I actually did lose weight on that diet--mostly because grapefruit makes me want to barf. But usually I never lost more than a couple of pounds, and I could never keep it off. I've tried to explain to my mom that we just have different bodies that I wasn't made to be skinny like her--but she always says that I could be a model too if I had more "willpower." I mean, give me a break. My mom eats like a pig and never gains a pound. I eat healthy food and am considered overweight. But who cares? I'm sure not going to start eating unhealthy stuff just so I can be fifteen pounds lighter. It's not like that's going to solve all of my problems or something.

Besides, I don't usually look like Night of the Living Doughnut. I would just try to keep from drowning in a bowl of punch from now on.

"Kristin!" Brian yelled from downstairs. "Our ride's here!"

"Here's a shirt," Elizabeth said as I flung open the bathroom door.

"Thanks," I replied, "but I think I should just get going. I borrowed your hair clip, by the way."

"No problem," Elizabeth reassured me with a smile. "Thanks for helping us clean up. See you Monday."

"See you," I said, and hurried down the stairs. "Bye, Jessica!" I called. "Bye, Bethel!"

"Bye," they chorused as I walked out the door.

I was so...

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Verlag
Bantam USA
Erscheinungsdatum
1999
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0553486640
ISBN 13 
9780553486643
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
151
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