The Cupid Chronicles (9 page)

I take a deep breath. This is bigger than a boy.

“Well, I don't know how many of you have heard the news,” 1 start in a shaky voice, “but the town council is closing the Bramble Library….”

Somehow I manage to finish. Nobody looks very interested. The bell rings. Kids are leaving. Gus says “maybe we should table the vote.”

“Hey, wait,” Tina shouts, rushing up front to join me. “Willa's right, everybody. And maybe we can get on television, one of the morning shows or something. You know, saving the poor old library. And we won't do
fund-
raisers, we'll do FUN-raisers. Fun, fun, fun.”

“Sounds good to me,” JFK says louder than I have ever heard him speak. He walks up to stand by me and Tina. “Count me in. I vote for the library, too.”

My heart is pounding. My head is spinning. A volcano is erupting inside.

“Joey's right,” Ruby says, coming up next to him. “I vote for the library, too.”

Gus calls for a vote. “It's unanimous.”

I run off gasping for air.

The faculty-student soccer game is after school.

All I want to do is go home, lock my door, and collapse, but I'm one of the best strikers in our class, and if we win, it means no homework for the weekend.

JFK and I are both forwards in the fourth quarter.

“Willa,” he calls over to me. I can't look at him.

The ref calls “two minutes.” We're tied with the teachers. I trap the ball and dribble down the field. JFK is shouting, “Willa, I'm open, pass, pass.” I can't look at him. My head and my heart are colliding. I charge on and slam in that ball so hard, poor goalie Dr. Swammy makes a suicide dive that sends his turban sailing. Sorry, Swammy.

“Willa!” JFK shouts as I blast away on my bike. “Willa, wait. What's wrong?”

CHAPTER 12
 
“Oh, Jo-e-o, My Jo-e-o”
 

I'll not budge an inch …

—Shakespeare,
The Taming of the Shrew

The front door slams behind me. The Blazers look up from their Monopoly game. They are in the midst of a serious real estate transaction, but they manage smiles as I pass. Monopoly is fun, but I'm more of a Scrabble girl.

Stella calls to join them in the kitchen. She's chopping basil and tomatoes. Sam is slicing baguettes. Garlic is sizzling in the frying pan, Gorgonzola waiting on the counter. The famous Bramblebriar bruschetta food critics rave about. Mmmm. Yum.

“The Blazers spoke with me today,” Stella says, “about your Halloween party.”

Oh, gosh, the money. “Yes, we owe them change. I'll go find them right now.”

“They didn't say anything about change,” Stella says, still chopping, “but they did say they had a wonderful time and they want to dance again when they come back at Thanksgiving. The barn will be cold, but Sam said he could bring in some space heaters and …”

While Stella talks, I keep thinking about JFK and how he kept calling to me after the game and maybe, just maybe, Ruby was making the whole Cinco de Mayo and locker thing up … and what should we do next to raise money for the library … maybe something for Thanksgiving … another dance in the barn … and JFK will come and—

“Willa,” Stella says. “Are you listening to me?”

“I'll do it!” I say.

“Do what?” Stella looks confused. Sam nods patiently, like it's okay, go on.

“To raise money for the library, we want to have dances and other events here at the inn, in the barn, something at Thanksgiving, then—”

Stella starts in with questions, but Sam says, “it's nearly six o'clock, Stell.”

Way to go, Sam.

Stella looks at the clock and jumps up. “We're
late. Open the bar, Sam. I'll be right there.” Stella sprinkles Parmesan cheese on the bruschetta, quickly checks her face in the mirror, then, just when I think I'm good to go, Stella turns and says, “I'm not agreeing to anything at this point, Willa, except a Thanksgiving dance for the Blazers.”

Tina comes over for help with math. She plops down on my bed, scattering my notebooks. “Ruby didn't know you liked Joey”

“What?” I'm not buying this.

“Come on, Willa. Give Ruby a break. You didn't tell her you have a crush on Joey. You never tell her anything. You don't even like her.”

“Ruby's all right.”

Tina's not buying this. “When Stella was a wedding planner, Ruby would have cashed all her trust funds for some celebrity wedding dirt, but you wouldn't dish a crumb.”

“But, Tina, what was that whole thing about the boys' locker room?”

“Oh, Willa, Ruby's a drama queen. Sort of like that freaky Lady Macbeth.”

So Tina reads her Shakespeare after all.

“Besides,” Tina says, “I grilled Ruby like a burger about the ‘good times' she had with Joey doing that
Spanish thing together and, you know what? I don't think they even kissed. I think Ruby's just trying to make it
seem
like they were a couple. But just to be sure, why don't I see what I can get out of Joey?”

“No, Tina.”

“Oh, Willa, come on. I haven't been watching soaps since 1 was six for nothing. I know how to dig without—”

“No, Tina, 1 mean it.”

“Come on, Willa.”

“No, no, no.”

“That's not fair, Willa. You're always talking about being fair. 1 know Joey's a boy, but he's a person, too. Doesn't he have the right to tell his side of the story?”

Tina's good. She's very good. I sit silent awhile. “Okay, Tina, talk to him a little, but please don't mention my name. 1 don't want him to think that I lo-
liiike—”

“Love?” Tina's eyes are balloons about to pop.

“Like,
Tina. I said like.'”

“Love,”
Tina sways to the center of the room, swishing her hair like a veil. “Jo-e-o …” She raises her chin, fists clenched to her chest, and closes her eyes. “Oh, Jo-e-o, my Jo-e-o. How do I
love
thee, Jo-e-o? Let me count the ways …”

“Shut up, Tina.” I throw a pillow at her.

“Oh, Will, lighten up. It happens to the best of us.”

“What about you, Tina? Have you found ten things in common with Jessie yet?”

“Just about,” she says. “Look.” She opens her math notebook. “We both have the same favorite band and TV show and …”

After dinner, the “Blazin'” limousine pulls up out front. A chauffer puts the Blazers' luggage into the trunk. Stella gives them a goody bag for the ride.

Mama B smothers me in a hug. “Good-bye, Willa, honey. It's been great.”

“We'll be back for the Thanksgiving Tango,” Papa B says.

“With roses in our teeth,” Mama B says. She wiggles her butt. “Cha, cha, cha.”

“Wait,” I say “I've got your change from the Halloween party.”

“Oh no, Willa.” Mama B waves her hand. “That's for you and your friends. We'd have paid a million for that much fun, right, Bell?”

Bell shakes his head. “Absolutely-hootly Best time we've had in years.”

The Blazers blow kisses. We wave good-bye. The chauffeur tips his hat.

I finish
The Tempest
as fast as I can so I can get to my journal. I feel better after I write. When I fall asleep, though, a weird dream begins. The bad witch cackles, “Who are you kidding, Willa, my pretty? Of course JFK likes Ruby. She's beautiful and booby and a Bramble Burner.” Then the good witch glides in. “Don't worry, Willa, honey Click your cleats three times.” Then the Blazers, waving boas, rise up in a hot-air balloon. “Bye, Willa, be back soon! Wouldn't miss the Thanksgiving Tango!”

I bolt out of bed in a sweat.
Oh no, Stella, what have you done?

I run down the hall. The light is on. Thankfully, they're still awake.

“A tango! No, Mother. My friends don't tango.”

“Well, they can have fun learning,” Stella says, smearing white cream on her face. “I promised Chickles and Bellford. It's their favorite dance.”

“Mother, please, the party is for teenagers, not some old—”

“I thought the party was for the library.” Stella has a mummy face now.

“It is, Mother, but, come on,
the tango?”

“The Turkey Tango,” Mummy says.

“The
Turkey
Tango?”

“Yes, that's right. Chickles came up with the name
and Bellford loved it and so 1 said that's what we'd call it.”

“Mother, how could you?”

“I'm sorry, Willa, but they are important guests. I am, we are, running a
business
here. Besides, I'm sure by now they've already told all their relatives and—”

“Oh no. Why didn't you ask me before you ruined my whole—”

“Okay, ladies,” Sam says, putting down his book. “Let's take a breather.”

Sam would have made a dandy diplomat.

“There must be a compromise.” He smiles. “Remember … it takes two to tango.”

Uggh.
I could spit at Mummy I'm so mad.

I stare at Mummy Mummy stares at me. Neither one of us will budge an inch.

CHAPTER 13
 
Be a Ruffler
 

My library was dukedom large enough.

—Shakespeare,
The Tempest

I wake up thinking about two very different things.

One, JFK. Two, the Bramble Library.

JFK will have to wait. The town council meets tonight.

I change the quote on the Bramble Board.

My library was dukedom large enough.
William Shakespeare.

“Perfect words, Willa,” Sam says.

Finding words for the Bramble Board was easy; finding words for tonight is not. All I know for certain is that they are not going to close my library. I'll charge in like Joan of Arc, mighty sword, trusty stallion, my legion of valiant kinsmen by my side.

I try rallying my legion at school. Only Tina promises to come. JFK is out sick.

“Willa, people just aren't into this like you are,” Tina says. “1 mean, the library's nice and books are nice, but what's that got to do with us? 1 mean, if you want a book, go buy one. If you're doing a paper, go online. I mean, maybe libraries are becoming dinosaurs. Maybe it's just their time to go extinct or some—”