Free Baby-Sitters On Board by Ann M. Martin Page B

worst things about having diabetes — missing out on treats.) When it was almost time to meet Mr. Ku-backi, I took our bill up to the line at the cash register. I began to daydream but woke up when I heard the boy in front of me say to the cashier in a whisper, "And I'll pay for her sundae, too." The boy pointed across the room.
Why was he whispering? And who was he pointing to? I turned to look. He was pointing at Claudia! Or at least I thought he was. An older woman was at a table in front of ours, and a girl my age was at a table in back of ours. But neither of them looked like she deserved a Secret Admirer. He must mean Claudia. This boy must be her Secret Admirer! I waved frantically to Claudia, but she was helping Marc with something. "Claud!" I called.
"AHEM! Miss?" I turned back to the cashier, who looked very impatient.
And I realized that the boy was gone.
Darn! I hadn't even gotten a good look at him. But there was nothing I could do now. The cashier and everyone on line were waiting for me to pay.
I paid.
Then I flew back to our table.
"Claudia! Claudia!" I cried. "I think I just saw your Secret Admirer!" I told her what had happened and tried to remember what he had looked like, but I really hadn't noticed. "I guess you missed him again," I said sadly.
"Not necessarily!" exclaimed Claudia. "See you guys later." It was her turn to fly.
"Boy," said Marc, "this is the most fun I've had on the whole trip. You guys sure do exciting things." He and the Pike girls smiled chocolate-soda smiles at one another. There's nothing like new friends.
I only wished that Claudia could find her new friend — whoever he was. But I wasn't holding out much hope. He was always around, yet he always kept himself hidden. However, Marc was right. It had been an exciting morning. I couldn't wait to talk to Claudia later.
Claudia.
I simply couldn't believe what Stacey had just said. Not the part about my Secret Admirer. I already knew I had one. What I couldn't believe was that Stacey had been standing right next to him, and all she could say about his looks was that she thought he had brown hair.
There was nothing to do but leave the Scooper-Duper right then and hope to see a brown-haired boy nearby. For a moment, I looked longingly at the five mouthfuls of melted ice cream that were still left in my dish. Then I jumped up and ran into the hallway. At least I didn't have to waste time paying my bill. My Secret Admirer had taken care of that for me.
I felt like someone in a spy novel. I burst through the doorway of the ice-cream parlor, skidded to a stop in the hallway, and looked left and right. To the left was a dead end. I took off in the other direction — and almost smacked into a boy who stepped out from behind a pillar.
He had blond hair.
"Whoa!" he said, and I tried to catch my breath. "What's going on?" "Did you see a brown-haired boy come out of here a couple of minutes ago?" I gasped.
"Was he running like you?" "I don't know. He might have been. Did someone run by?" "Yeah, at full speed. He came out of the icecream parlor." "Oh, please. What did he look like?" I asked.
"Hmm. Red hair, I think. Great sneakers. I really wasn't paying attention." Great sneakers? What was wrong with everybody? Why couldn't they be a little more observant? I didn't have a thing to go by. Not even hair color. All I knew about my Secret Admirer was that he had nice shoes and either brown or red hair. Some clues.
There was no point in looking any further.
"What's going on?" asked the boy.
"Huh? Oh. . . . Well, see, this guy has been sending me notes signed 'Your Secret Admirer.' And he's bought me presents and stuff, but I don't even know who he is." "If you did, he wouldn't be a Secret Admirer," the boy pointed out. "He'd just be an admirer." I smiled. "That's true." "So who did you think you were chasing just now? I mean, what made you think that guy was your Secret Admirer?" The boy and I were walking slowly through the hallway, heading for one of