Free Taffy Sinclair 004 - Taffy Sinclair and the Romance Machine Disaster by Betsy Haynes Page B

Maybe I would have seen him for what he really is. Kind . . . sensitive . . . caring. "
    She moved into the kitchen, still mumbling to herself about Pink. I shook my head and went to my room. Men! I thought. They either drove you nuts telling you how much they cared about you, like Pink used to do and like Curtis Trowbridge. Or else they ignored you altogether like Pink and Randy Kirwan were doing now. Women ought to get even with them, I thought. We ought to band together and go on strike!
    When I walked to school the next morning I tried not to think about Randy and how it was Thursday, our one-week anniversary. Last Thursday was the day that he had called to ask me out for pizza after his football game. It seemed longer than a week ago. It seemed more like a year.
    There ' s no use thinking about Randy anymore, I told myself. I took care of him yesterday.
    I spotted my four best friends beside the swings. They were with a group of other girls, and they were all talking excitedly. I stopped when I saw who the other girls were. Lisa Snow, Sara Sawyer, Kim Baxter, and Alexis Duvall. All the girls who had been sitting with Randy in the cafeteria yesterday except for Mona Vaughn and Taffy Sinclair. What did they want? I wasn ' t sure I even wanted to find out.
    Alexis saw me first, and she started smiling and waving like crazy for me to join the group. " Come here, Jana, " she called. " We have something important to tell you. "
    I hesitated for a moment, but then all the others started smiling and waving, including my four best friends, so I went over to see what was going on.
    Everybody started talking at once. " You were right about Randy Kirwan, " said Kim.
    " He is the most conceited boy in Mark Twain Elementary, " said Sara. " We should have seen it ourselves. "
    " But he ' s not the only boy who ' s conceited, " Lisa added. " All the sixth-grade boys are. "
    I couldn ' t believe what I was hearing. " But all of you were sitting with Randy yesterday, " I said. " You were acting as if you thought he was great. "
    " We did— then ," said Alexis. " But we got to thinking about what you said to him, and we decided that all sixth-grade boys are jerks. "
    " Including Randy Kirwan, " said Lisa. " And we don ' t care if any of them tell us who they matched up with. Where do they get off thinking they can just refuse to tell who their girl matchups are? Every one of them has some kind of ego problem, if you ask me. "
    " If they don ' t need us, we don ' t need them! " said Sara. " We ought to find some way to get even. "
    " Then you ' re not mad at me anymore? " I asked cautiously .
    " Mad at you? " echoed Kim. " You ' re the one who opened our eyes. "
    " Not only that, " added Melanie. " It took a lot of nerve to tell him off the way you did. "
    As I stood there listening, I suddenly remembered what I had been th inking yesterday after Mom told me about her troubles with Pink, and I got this great idea. " Why don ' t we go on strike? " I said.
    " Strike? " asked Christie.
    " Yeah, " said Beth. " What do you mean? "
    I smiled triumphantly. " Boys are always asking us for things. You know. Like borrowing things. "
    " Oh, I get it, " said Melanie. " Things like notebook paper. Scott Daly never has notebook paper, and he ' s always borrowing it from me. "
    " And what about pencils? " asked Sara. " Either they don ' t have them at all or the points are broken off and they ' re too short to sharpen. "
    " Don ' t forget homework, " added Katie.
    " Especially math homework, " said Kim.
    Beth ' s face lit up and she said, " Just think. If we go on strike like Jana said, they ' ll have to bring their own stuff to school or they ' ll get in trouble, and they ' ll have to do their own homework. "
    " We ' ll teach them a thing or two, " said Alexis. " And believe me, they really deserve it. Boys are such jerks. "
    " BOYS—ARE—JERKS! GIRLS—ON—STRIKE! BOYS—ARE—JERKS! GIRLS—ON—STRIKE! " someone started chanting. The rest of us