Ann Martin - Kristy's Mystery Admirer

"Well, fork over," I said. "I've got to pay Charlie today."

Stacey looked pained but gave me the money.

"And I need some stuff for my Kid-Kit," said Dawn. "The Magic Markers have dried up, and someone — I'm not sure who, but I'm betting on Jenny Prezzioso — scribbled on every page of a new coloring book."

"Barbie's head fell off," reported Jessi. "I need a new Barbie doll."

Everyone laughed. We knew she was just kidding.

The first phone call of the day came in then, and Dawn took it.

"Hello, Baby-sitters Club," she said. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Kuhn."

The Kuhns are not regular clients of the BSC, but the Kuhn kids are on my Krushers team, so Mrs. Kuhn does call for a sitter every now and then. Mary Anne arranged for Mal to take an afternoon job with them.

As soon as Dawn had called Mrs. Kuhn back to tell her who would be baby-sitting, the phone rang again. And again and again and again. It was one of our busiest meetings ever.

Mmm. I just love busy meetings.

One of the last calls was from Mrs. Pike, Mal's mother, needing two sitters (she always insists on two sitters, since there are so many Pike kids) for a Saturday afternoon. Mary Anne arranged the job for Mal and Jessi. We usually let each other sit for our own brothers and sisters, if possible. We're pretty nice about doling out the jobs. Not much fighting goes on.

At six o'clock, we took what Claudia hoped was the last call of the meeting. (If a client calls after six, poor Claudia has to deal with things on her own. That's one of the problems that comes with having your own phone number. On the other hand, Claud can talk up a storm in private, while the rest of us have to hide out in closets during personal calls, hoping nobody is listening in on an extension.)

As soon as Dawn hung up the phone, my friends and I said good-bye to Claud and left. Charlie was waiting for me. He demanded his money before he would drive me home.

Chapter 4.

When Charlie and I walked in the front door of our house, I was greeted by David Michael, who said, "Shannon called four times while you were gone! She said to phone her as soon as you get home. She says it's really, really, really important."

"What's important?" I asked my brother.

"She wouldn't tell me. She just said for you to call her."

So I did. Immediately. In case it was private, I took our cordless phone into a closet we hardly ever use and called Shannon from there. The connection wasn't so hot, even with the phone antenna stretched as far as it would go, but at least we could hear each other.

"Shannon?" I said when she got on the phone.

"Kristy? Is that you?"

Crackle, crackle. (Static.) "Yeah. What's going on?"

"You sound like you're calling from a tunnel."

"I'm on the cordless phone in a closet. David Michael made your phone message sound so mysterious I thought I better hide, just in case."

"Oh. Well, listen. You won't believe this. I forgot to get our mail until really late this afternoon." (Shannon's parents both work, so it's up to Shannon ,and her sisters, Tiffany and Maria, to get the mail after school. Sometimes nobody remembers until after dinner.) "Anyway, it was a lucky thing 7 got the mail, because there was an envelope in it for you."

"So?" I said, puzzled. "The mailman stuck it in the wrong box."

"The mailman didn't deliver it," said Shannon, with some satisfaction. "There's no stamp or postmark on it. There's not even an address. It just says 'Kristy,' and there are heart stickers and flower stickers all over it."

Crackle, crackle. "You're kidding," I said in a hushed voice.

"It looks like a love letter," Shannon added tantalizingly.

"A" (crackle) "me? No way. No one has" (crackle) "love" (crackle).

"Kristy, would you get out of that closet or

off that phone? I can't understand a word you're saying."

"I'm not leaving the closet." (Crackle.) "If my brothers hear about — "

"Kristy!" It was Mom calling me.

"Shannon, I have to go. Can you" (crackle) "over after supper?"

"Can I bring the letter over after supper? Sure. I don't know how long I can stay, but I'm dying to know what's in this envelope. . . . That is, if you'll let me see. You will let me see, won't you?"

"I guess so." (Crackle.) "I mean, it'll de — " (crackle) "what the letter, or whatever it is, says. It might be very personal."

"KRISTY!" That time Sam was calling me. He's got the world's loudest voice. It's like a sonic boom.

"I really have to go now," I told Shannon. "See you later. And thanks."

Shannon and I hung up. I pushed down the antenna on the cordless phone, burst out of the closet, and flew into the kitchen. I knew I was late for dinner.

"Sorry," I said, as I slid into my place on the bench. (We eat at a long table with a bench at either side and Emily's high chair at one end.) "I had to talk to Shannon. She's going

to come over after dinner. She won't stay long/' I added quickly. "We both have homework." We hadn't said that over the phone, but we always have homework, so why should that night have been any different?

Somehow, I got through dinner. I really don't know how I did it. All I could think of was the envelope and the hearts and flowers.

I am not the hearts-and-flowers type.

At seven-thirty, our bell rang.

"I'll get it!" I screeched. I half expected Watson to say, "Indoor voice, Kristy," to me, which is what we have to say to Karen a lot. She tends to get noisy.

By now, David Michael was as curious as I was about what was going on. He'd taken the messages from Shannon. He knew I'd called Shannon from inside the closet. And now he saw that I couldn't wait for Shannon to come inside. So he was right next to me when I answered the door.

"Hi," I said breathlessly.

There stood Shannon. She has thick, curly, blonde hair (similar to Stacey's) and blue eyes, but I wouldn't call her gorgeous like Dawn or even attractive like Stacey. She's more . . . interesting-looking. I once heard someone say

that being called "interesting" is practically a curse. It's the word people use when they don't want to say someone's ugly. But I don't agree. At least not in Shannon's case. She really is interesting-looking. She has high cheekbones, like that actress Meryl Streep, and wide eyes. Her lashes are very pale, but she's allowed to use makeup, so she puts on black mascara every morning. And she has a ski-jump nose, the kind that's almost too cute. (Shannon told me once that she wants a nose job — to straighten it out — but her parents say no. They aren't strict. They just think she should wait until she's an adult before she makes a decision like that.)

I let Shannon inside. She was still wearing her Stoneybrook Day School uniform. Shannon, Bart, and about half the kids in our neighborhood go to Stoneybrook Day School. Karen, Andrew, and a lot of other kids go to another private school called Stoneybrook Academy. My brothers and I are practically the only kids around here who go to public school.

"So?" I said eagerly to Shannon.

She pulled the envelope out of the pocket of her school uniform and handed it to me. I was so excited I could hardly breathe. Then I

realized that David Michael was at my elbow.

"Let's go to my room/' I said hastily. Shannon and I thundered up the stairs. David Michael was at our heels.

When we reached the door to my room and I realized that we were still a trio, I had to say, "David Michael, this is private. You can't come in." (I couldn't help being blunt. I was nearing hysteria.)

"But I want to know what's going on," he said.

"Maybe I'll tell you later," I replied ''Maybe. Anyway, this is girl stuff." I knew that would get him.

"Girl stuff! Gross. Forget it. I don't want to know after all."

I grinned at Shannon. David Michael had taken off like a shot.