Free The Banana Split Affair by Cynthia Blair

flirtatious manner “are you planning to ask me out for a date?”
    A look of confusion crossed Jason’s face. “Uh, well, I, uh, just figured that if you’re the only witness to my car accident and I might need you to testify at a hearing, I should at least know how to contact you.”
    Susan could feel herself turning as red as the stop sign that the other driver had ignored. “Oh, of course,” she stammered, feeling very foolish. Her real self took over then, and all she wanted to do was run away. But she jotted down the name Christine Pratt, along with her address and telephone number, on the piece of paper that Jason handed her.
    “Thanks again!” He smiled one of his genuine smiles again. “I really appreciate your help. Hey, can I give you a lift home, Chris?”
    “No, thanks. That’s okay. I only live a couple of blocks from here.”
    The last thing Susan wanted was for Jason to run into her mother and tell her all about what had happened. She was only too aware of the fact that she had made a terrible mistake by pretending she was Chris. But now it was too late. All she could do was hope things didn’t get any worse.
    “All right, then, Chris. Good-bye! I’ll be talking to you!”
    You mean you’ll be talking to Susan, she thought ruefully. You only think you’ll be talking to Christine.
    With a heavy heart and a worried look on her face, Susan watched Jason drive away with his crushed fender, then started on her way home.
     
Chapter Eight
     
    It wasn’t until she got home that Susan realized she had left her schoolbooks in Jason’s car. And while she had given him her address and telephone number, it had never occurred to her to ask for his.
    “Darn!” she said aloud as she paused in her task of setting the table for dinner to wonder how on earth she was going to track him down and get her books back, preferably without anyone in her family knowing about it. Susan cursed herself for behaving in such a typically Susan-ish way. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get away from the good-looking boy, if she had lingered for a few more minutes to flirt with him the way Chris would have, it might have occurred to her to ask Jason for his address and phone number, too.
    But no. She had been in her usual hurry to get away from Jason Simms. Was it really because she was embarrassed about being so flip, asking him if he planned to call her up and ask her out? Or was it simply because she had just begun to notice what an attractive, friendly boy Jason was?
    “Dam, oh, dam!” she exclaimed again, this time because of her own stupid shyness as well as the fact that she would have to work out a way to retrieve her books.
    Her mother overheard her talking to herself and poked her head in from the kitchen.
    “Is something wrong, dear?” Mrs. Pratt had taken to calling her daughters dear and honey rather than using their names. That was because she was never completely sure which twin it was that she was speaking to.
    “I’m sorry, Mom. Did you say something to me?”
    “Am I imagining things, or did I just hear you say ‘Darn!’ as you put down that fork? Is there something about forks that distresses you?”
    Susan laughed in spite of herself. “I like forks a lot,” she joked. “They help feed me. And I love anything that helps me eat.”
    Susan returned to her table setting, relieved when her mother went back into the kitchen. She was tempted to tell her all about the car accident—and, more important, about how she had given her sister’s name to the police and pretended that she was Christine Pratt instead of Susan. But she had decided not to. As much as she wanted to confide in her parents, to have her mother and father assure her that everything would be all right, she knew that the safest thing to do was wait for a while. She had made a stupid mistake, and she wanted to see if there was any way she could fix things up by herself before confessing to her parents how dumb she had