Ann Martin - Kristy's Mystery Admirer

Shannon and I darted into my room and I closed the door behind us. We flopped on my bed, and I let the envelope dangle between my thumb and forefinger.

Then we examined the envelope together. The front said simply KRISTY. The word was typed but the "I" had been dotted with a tiny heart sticker. A flower sticker had been placed carefully in each corner of the envelope.

"Maybe it's not for me," I said. "It doesn't say 'Kristy Thomas.' It just says 'Kristy.' "

"Well, there aren't any Kristys at my house," Shannon replied. "And I can't think of any other Kristys in the neighborhood — and I know practically everyone around here."

I turned the envelope over. On the back were more hearts and flowers. All I could do was stare at the envelope.

"Well, open it before I die!" cried Shannon.

I ripped the envelope open. Suddenly I felt shy. "Let me read it first," I said to Shannon. "It might be embarrassing."

Shannon understood. "Okay." She rolled over and closed her eyes.

I read the note inside. Compared to the envelope, it was very plain. It was typewritten (or maybe word-processed) on white paper. The note said, "Dear Kristy, I think you are beautiful. And you're the nicest girl I know. I would like to go steady with you. I wish I could tell you this in person. Love, Your Mystery Admirer."

I sat up. "Well, it's not too bad," I said. "Here." I handed the note to Shannon. "What do you think?"

Shannon read the note and smiled, saying, "You've got a mystery admirer! That is so romantic."

I was surprised. Shannon is almost as sophisticated as Stacey. She's had millions of

boyfriends and gone out on plenty of dates. Plus she gets to wear that makeup. It's hard to believe we're the same age. And here she was, all gooey over a little note.

"I bet it's Sam," I said. "It's one of his practical jokes."

"Why would he put the note in our mailbox?" asked Shannon.

"To throw me off the track," I replied. "That's why he couldn't use his own handwriting."

"You are such a dweeb," she said. "You know it's from Bart."

"Bart! Why wouldn't Bart tell me those things in person?"

"They aren't so easy to say," Shannon told me. She sounded as if she were speaking from experience.

"But you just said I have a mystery admirer. Why are you so excited if you think you know who the mystery admirer is?"

"Because. It's still romantic."

"Okay. Then why are there hearts and flowers all over the envelope? Stacey McGill is the only person I know who dots Ts' with hearts. Boys don't do that. This looks like it's from a girl."

"A girl who wants to go steady with you?

Kristy, grow up. Bart just wanted to make the envelope look nice."

"All right. How about this? Why did Bart, who knows perfectly well where I live, put the envelope in your mailbox?"

Shannon frowned. "That one I can't answer. But anyway, who else would send you a note like this? Can you think of anyone?"

I couldn't. Except for Sam.

"Listen, I have to go," said Shannon. "I have a huge history paper due next week. Why don't you call Bart? Maybe he'll drop a hint about the note."

"Okay," I answered. I walked Shannon downstairs. Then I got on the phone in the kitchen. I figured that if I made another cordless-phone-in-the-closet call, it would arouse suspicion.

Bart's little brother answered the phone. When I asked for Bart, he yelled, "BART!" and dropped the phone and walked away.

"Sorry about that," said Bart. "We've got to work on Kyle's manners. What's up?"

"Not much," I replied. "How's the band?"

"It's fine. We still don't have a place to practice, though."

Bart and I talked for about fifteen minutes, talked a lot about his band. Then we talked

about a teacher at my school that I don't like much, and about a couple of other things.

But Bart did not mention the mystery note and neither did I. When we got off the phone, I was not at all convinced that Bart was my mystery admirer, even if Shannon thought so. But if he wasn't, then who was?

Chapter 5.

What a day Tuesday was for me. Stacey's afternoon was pretty tame, judging from her notebook entry, but my whole day was, well, surprising.

It started when I leaned out of our front door very early in the morning to bring in the newspaper and found another envelope addressed to me. It was lying on the doormat, right next to the paper. (We have a very accurate paper girl. She hits the front steps every time. Either she has fantastic aim, or she walks the paper to the door.)

I grabbed the paper and the note, dropped the newspaper on the kitchen table, and then ran to my room with the envelope. I wasn't even dressed yet, but I read the letter right away, then thought it over while I got ready for school.

The envelope wasn't as fancy as the first one had been. It just said KRISTY on the front, and the back flap was sealed with a pink heart sticker. I kind of wished the "I" in my name

had been dotted with a heart again. Anyway, inside was another typed note. This one said, "Dearest Kristy, I can't stop thinking about you. Maybe I'm in love with you. I don't know. I've never been in love before. You are as beautiful as a snow-covered mountain. Love, Your Mystery Admirer."

Well, that last part was a little flowery (overwritten, my English teacher would say), but I didn't care. I'm not sure anyone had ever called me beautiful, except maybe Mom, and that doesn't count, because all mothers say their children are beautiful.

Of course, I told my friends about the notes while we ate lunch in the cafeteria that day. And, like Shannon, they were all sure Bart was my mystery admirer. I seemed to be the only one with any doubts.

Okay, so I had gotten a letter in the morning. Imagine my surprise when I found another one in our mailbox that afternoon. It said simply, "Dear Kristy, I love you, I love you, I love you. Love (get the picture?), Your Mystery Admirer."

I was floating on air by the time Shannon and I got to the ball field for the Krushers practice that day. And that was only the beginning of my excitement.

Stacey, meanwhile, went straight to the Per-kinses' after school. She was greeted at the door by an exuberant Myriah and Gabbie. (Myriah is five-and-a-half, and Gabbie is almost three. Guess what. Their family moved into our house when we moved into Watson's house!)

"Toshe me up, Stacey McGill! Toshe me up!" cried Gabbie. (That's Gabbie-talk for "Pick me up and give me a hug.") So Stacey toshed her up. When she set her down, Myriah grinned and said, "I'm learning how to ride a bike with no training wheels!"

She was very proud of herself.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Perkins left.

"Ready for your Krushers practice?" Stacey asked Myriah and Gabbie.

"Yes!" they cried. They were wearing pants, sneakers, and their special Krushers T-shirts.

"You need hats," Stacey reminded them. "You're going to be in the sun all afternoon." The girls dutifully found two old baseball caps, while Stacey tied a little pink hat on Laura and put her very distant fedora on her own head. Then they set off.

Gabbie and Myriah took turns helping Stacey push Laura's stroller. When they reached the practice field, the older girls ran to me.

Stacey took Laura to a grassy spot under a tree and sat next to the stroller.

"Do you want to sit on my lap?" she started to say to the baby, when she realized that Laura had fallen sound asleep. Well, thought Stacey, this will be an easy sitting job.

She was settling down with a book she'd brought along in case this happened, when I left my Krushers and ran over to her.

"Stacey!" I cried. "I got a third note this afternoon." I told her what it said, and Stacey just grinned.

"Hey, Kristy," a voice said.

Stacey peered around me and saw Shannon Kilbourne. She'd met Shannon a few times, so she knew her slightly. "Hi!" said Stacey.