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Authors: Melody Carlson

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Seriously, how much more of that embarrassing nonsense could she even take? She was barely over Brett as it was. And, besides, who cared if dumb old Tyler Epperson “liked” her? What difference did it really make?

And yet, Amy knew she did care. She just didn’t know why.

chapter seven

Later that day, Amy couldn’t help but watch Tyler Epperson as he walked into English class. Although she was discrete, holding her assigned reading up just high enough that she appeared to be totally immersed in
The Jungle Book
. But, really, she was studying him. She noticed how his dark hair curled around his ears in a rather attractive way, and the way his long legs kind of folded under as he slipped into the seat diagonally across from her, just far enough in front of her that she could continue to take inventory without being observed. She liked his polo shirt — it was Ralph Lauren and neat and clean. And his shoes, Nike, were neat and clean as well. Okay, Tyler seemed like an okay guy. Maybe she should let Chelsea and Brett talk to him for her. Or maybe she was just setting herself up for another heartbreak. Oh, what was wrong with her?

“Okay, class,” said Mrs. Murray. “Put down your reading and listen as I tell you about a special assignment.”

Amy laid her book aside and sat up attentively. Even though she was often teased for playing teacher’s pet, it
was hard to give up old habits. Besides, she was one of those kids who really liked school. And she liked Mrs. Murray too.

“As you may know, next Tuesday is Valentine’s Day and, for that reason, I have a special project. This will be a team project, and I want you to work in groups of four. But they must be mixed groups — with both girls and boys. I’m going to section you off into groups now, so there can be no arguing about who is in your group.” Then Mrs. Murray worked her way around the room, counting off groups of four. And when she got to Amy, she included Tyler Epperson, along with Myrna Shaft and Bruce Jackson. After all the groups were selected, Mrs. Murray began disbursing what appeared to be a play.

“Your group of four will read through this play together, each with an assigned role, but as you will see, the play seems to stop halfway through. The way your play concludes will be up to you. You and your team will write the ending of the play, each person taking responsibility for the role that he or she is playing. But you must work together.”

There were some groans as well as some sounds of interest. Amy actually thought it sounded like a fun assignment, and she couldn’t believe her luck of getting to be with Tyler. She wasn’t too sure about Myrna and Bruce though. In Amy’s opinion, those two weren’t the smartest kids in the class — and that was an understatement. Still,
Amy was used to working with kids who weren’t equal to her academically. Wasn’t that the story of her life?

“Go ahead and break into your groups now. First you can assign your roles and then you can take turns reading your parts. It might be helpful to choose a director for your production, but I will leave that up to you. Tomorrow and Friday you will have time to write your endings, and on Monday you can practice and make revisions before you turn in your finished plays. I will read and judge the plays, choosing first-, second-, and third-place winners.” She smiled at the class. “And, of course, there will be prizes.”

Everyone clapped now. Amy did the math — that meant twelve prizes would be awarded, and that was nearly half of the class. Her chance at getting one seemed pretty good.

“And the first-place winners will also be invited to perform their play for the entire class on Valentine’s Day. Now go ahead and spread out in the room as you break into your groups. And good luck!”

Amy glanced shyly at Tyler now. She was used to being the kind of student who took charge in group projects, and everything in her wanted to be the director. But at the same time she didn’t want to appear too bossy.

“Why don’t we go over there,” he said, nodding to a corner of the room that no one had taken yet.

“Great,” said Amy with a bright smile. “You guys
coming?” she asked Myrna and Bruce, and they just nodded as they gathered up their stuff and followed.

“Okay,” said Tyler. “Who wants to be director?”

“Not me,” said Bruce.

And Myrna just shook her head.

“I’m willing,” admitted Amy. “Only if no one else wants to.”

Tyler nodded. “Go for it.”

And so Amy did. She had already glanced over the script and knew which were the lead roles (Kent and Alice), and she assigned them to Tyler and herself. The secondary roles (Jon and Marion) she assigned to Bruce and Myrna. “And now let’s take turns reading through it,” she told them.

The story was about four grown-up friends who had gone to high school together and were at their tenth reunion. They were all married to other people, but Kent and Alice had been high school sweethearts and Jon and Marion had been their best friends. It was actually a fairly boring play, and Amy suspected that their teacher may have written it herself. But just the same, Amy was interested in remaking the ending so that she and Tyler (rather Kent and Alice) would be reunited once again. But she also knew she’d have to go about this carefully. Fortunately, the bell rang just as they finished reading their parts, and she told them all to think about the ending of the play and that they would work on it tomorrow.

“Yeah, right,” said Tyler in a way that suggested he had no plans to think about it at all.

Amy just grinned. “Well, then you better watch out, Tyler, or we just might write your character into a corner or even kill him off.”

Bruce and Myrna laughed, and Tyler looked surprised. Then Amy, feeling pleasantly in control, gathered up her things and walked off. At least she’d given that boy something to think about!

It wasn’t until later that afternoon that Chelsea called her. And Amy couldn’t wait to tell Chelsea about Tyler being in her production group.

“Wow, that is so cool,” said Chelsea. “Did he choose to be in it?”

“Well, no. Mrs. Murray assigned us. But he seemed okay.”

“I wish I had Mrs. Murray for English. That sounds like a fun assignment.”

“The fun will be creating a totally romantic ending,” said Amy in a dreamy voice. “I want Tyler, oops, I mean Kent, to fall in love with Alice. That’s my character.”

“And then maybe life will imitate art, and Tyler will fall in love with you?”

“Exactly!” Amy laughed.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Just then Amy heard Ly calling. “I’ve got to go now.
It’s my night to hostess at the restaurant.” Amy hung up and hurried out to get into Ly’s car.

“How’s life?” Ly asked as they drove to town.

“Great,” said Amy. Then she told Ly the same story she’d just told Chelsea.

But Ly’s reaction was nothing like Chelsea’s. “Oh, Amy,” said Ly in a disappointed tone.

“What’s wrong?” asked Amy.

“What’s
wrong
?” Ly glanced at her. “You just told me how badly you were hurt when that other boy didn’t like you, Amy. And now here you go again.”

“Are you saying that just because Brett doesn’t like me I should give up on boys completely?”

Ly didn’t say anything.

“Is that what
you
did, Ly?”

Ly just shrugged as she pulled into the parking lot behind the restaurant.

“Is that what happened to you, Ly?” persisted Amy.

“All I’m trying to say, Amy …” Ly turned off the car. “Is that I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“I know …” Amy got out of the car and looked at her sister. “And, trust me, I don’t want to get hurt either.”

“Okay …” Ly nodded.

“But I don’t want to hide from living my life either,” said Amy.

Ly didn’t say anything as they walked to the back
door. But Amy hoped that she got the message, because Amy felt certain that Ly was hiding from life. But as they went inside, Amy considered what Ly had said to her too. Maybe Ly was partially right. Maybe it was a little silly for Amy to be chasing after another boy again.

The next day was sunny, so Amy walked with her friends to school. They were happily discussing their valentine project — the Lonely Hearts Club that had actually been her idea — but Amy was distracted. It seemed like her mind had gotten stuck — all she could think about was Tyler Epperson and how she planned to direct their English assignment later that day. And how she hoped she could direct him into playing the leading love interest.

“Earth to Amy!” said Morgan loudly.

“Very funny,” said Amy. “Why don’t you come up with a new one?”

“Why are you so spacey?” asked Emily.

“She’s probably thinking about boys again,” said Carlie.

“Which boys?” asked Morgan.

“Give me a break,” said Amy.

“Amy should’ve gone to church with us last night,” said Emily.

“Yeah,” agreed Morgan. “The sermon was about our minds.”

“What about our minds?” asked Amy, eager to get them talking about something besides her.

“Pastor George said that we can either control our minds or our minds can control us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Amy. “I thought our minds did control us.”

“They sort of do,” explained Emily. “But when you’re a Christian you want Jesus to be in control. You want him to lead you and show you better ways to think.”

“For instance,” said Morgan. “What were you so distracted about just now, Amy?”

Amy didn’t want to admit it.

“See, it was boys,” teased Carlie.

“Fine,” said Amy. “I was thinking about a boy.” And then she told her friends about Tyler Epperson. And it was actually a relief to have it out in the open. Except that it was kind of embarrassing too.

“Okay,” said Morgan. “Do you think that the thoughts you had about Tyler were inspired by Jesus or by yourself?”

Amy considered this then frowned. “Probably myself.”

“Is that sort of how it was with Brett?” asked Emily. “Did you think about him a lot?”

Amy wanted to say “duh,” but controlled herself and simply nodded.

“And where did that get you?” asked Morgan.

“Nowhere,” admitted Amy.

“Worse than nowhere,” pointed out Carlie. “It made you miserable. We saw you, Amy. You were a mess.”

“Yeah.” Amy sighed. “You’re right.”

“So, just think about it,” said Morgan. “Do you want Jesus to lead you and help you keep your mind on things that are good for you? Or do you want to just let your mind wander down any old back alley?”

“Where you could get mugged,” added Emily.

“I see your point,” said Amy.

“And it’s really simple,” said Morgan. “You just need to pray and ask Jesus to lead you … just ask him to change your ways of thinking so that you’re more like him.”

“Like when you got that Lonely Hearts Club idea,” said Carlie. “I think that Jesus must’ve helped you with that one.”

“And that’s what we were just talking about,” said Emily.

“While you were zoning,” added Morgan.

“Sorry,” said Amy. “By the way, my mom said it was fine to use our kitchen to make cookies.”

“Great,” said Morgan. “Everything seems to be coming together!”

As they went into the school, Amy tried to replay the mini-sermon that Morgan and Emily had just given her. In some ways it made sense. And it was true that Amy wasn’t that comfortable when her mind started to obsess over Tyler. She knew it didn’t even make sense. For one thing, she barely knew the boy. For another thing, she
really didn’t want to be totally humiliated again. And so, just as she thought she was getting a handle on this, she saw Tyler and Brett walking by, and it seemed that her friends’ words just vanished in a puff of smoke.

chapter eight

“Okay, this is what I found out,” whispered Chelsea as she and Amy exited the cafeteria after lunch. “Tyler thinks you’re nice and smart.”

“He said that?”

Chelsea nodded happily. “And I can tell by the way he said it that there’s something more behind it, Amy. I think he really likes you!”

Amy let out a happy squeal.

“So, let me know how English goes,” said Chelsea.

“Absolutely,” said Amy.

Now Amy couldn’t wait for her last class of the day. In fact, it made it hard to focus during her other two classes. As a result, she made a stupid mistake on the chalkboard during Algebra Two.

“Way to go, Second Chair,” teased Oliver as Amy returned to her desk feeling completely humiliated. “Can’t keep your mind on the numbers today, eh?”

Naturally, she ignored him. But, even as she did, she couldn’t help but remember what Morgan and Emily had told her earlier. And she had to ask herself — just who was controlling her thoughts now?

Finally, it was English, and she got to sit right next to Tyler as they plotted the ending of their play. Amy was glad that Myrna and Bruce didn’t seem to care how the play ended, as long as someone else did the work. That was fine with Amy.

“You’re really good at this, Amy,” said Tyler as the class ended. “I’m glad I got to be in your group.”

“You had some great ideas too,” said Amy. “I liked how you had Kent talking about being the big football hero in high school and then just an overweight soccer coach as an adult.”

Tyler laughed. “I have an uncle like that.”

“Well, we only need a couple more scenes to wrap it up,” said Amy. “Maybe we can finish it tomorrow, then I can do the editing on it and print it out during the weekend.”

Tyler gave her a high five. “Sounds good!”

Amy was hoping that Tyler would continue walking with her as they exited the classroom, but he took off toward his friends and she walked by herself to the locker bay. At her locker, she stopped to unload a couple of things from her backpack when she noticed a piece of paper sticking out of a zippered pocket. She pulled out the paper to discover it was another secret admirer note!

Dear Amy
,

The more I know you, the more I like you. Not only are you the
prettiest and smartest girl in the school, you are pretty funny too
!

YSA

Amy looked over her shoulder like she expected the writer of the note to pop out and say, “Hey, it’s me!” But all she saw was Emily and Morgan walking her way. She smiled and waved. And then she showed them the note.

“So the mystery continues,” said Emily with real interest.

“You’re good at mysteries,” said Amy. “Who do you think it is?”

Emily took the note and peered carefully at it. “Well, it does seem to be a boy.”

“Duh,” said Morgan.

“And he has neat handwriting. Does the style look familiar to you, Amy?”

Amy studied the note more closely. “Well, now that you mention it, Tyler’s handwriting actually looks kind of like that. And —” she looked at her friends with a rush of excitement. “He was using a pen this exact same color in English.”

“It’s blue,” said Morgan in a flat tone.

“But it’s kind of a purple blue,” said Amy.

“You’re right,” said Emily. “It is.”

“And —” gushed Amy, “whoever wrote this note had to have been near me this afternoon because I found it in my backpack!”

“Good point,” said Emily. “Did Tyler have an opportunity to slip it into your backpack during English?”

“I did get up to put something in the trash,” Amy told them. “It was a scene that we decided didn’t work. He could’ve slipped it in then.”

“Slipped what in?” asked Chelsea. She had just joined them. So Amy filled her in on the latest Secret Admirer news.

“Cool,” said Chelsea. “That has to be it.”

“Well, don’t let it go to your head,” warned Morgan.

“And don’t forget what we told you this morning,” said Emily.

“I’m trying to keep that in mind,” said Amy. “But it’s not easy.” She giggled. “It’s hard not to think about boys when boys are thinking about you!”

Chelsea laughed and slapped Amy on the back. “You go, girl.”

But Morgan just shook her head, and Emily looked concerned. And when Carlie joined them, and heard about Amy’s second note, she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, great,” said Carlie, “here we go again.”

“Does anyone want to go shoe shopping with me?” Chelsea asked. “I realized that I don’t have the right shoes to go with my Valentine’s Day dance outfit.”

Morgan, Emily, and Carlie all declined Chelsea’s offer, but Amy said she’d go. “As long as your mom can drop me off at the restaurant by five.”

“No problem,” said Chelsea.

So Amy called the restaurant on her cell phone and told An what her plans were for after school.

“No homework?” asked An.

“Not much,” said Amy. “I can do it later.”

“Okay then …”

And so, Amy and Chelsea were chauffeured around in the Mercedes, and all they talked about as they shoe-shopped was boys — specifically Brett and Tyler. By the time Amy was dropped off at Asian Garden, she felt certain that Tyler had been her secret admirer all along.

“I thought he acted weird when I asked Brett about it,” Chelsea had finally told Amy. “He had this uncomfortable look in his eye, you know, like
you’ve got the wrong guy
. You’ve got to help break the ice with him, Amy. Somehow you need to let him know that you got the note and that you feel the same way about him.”

Of course, Amy wasn’t quite sure how she was going to accomplish this. And as she helped with hostess duties and seating people at tables, she ran a few possibilities through her head. But nothing seemed quite right.

It wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she came up with a solution. If Tyler liked sending notes, perhaps she should send him one as well. And, like him, she would call herself a “secret admirer.”

Amy got out her best pink stationery and attempted to
pen a note. And, after several tries, she finally decided to keep her note brief. Just get to the point without revealing who she was — just in case she was wrong about Tyler being her secret admirer. No way did she want to set herself up for any more public humiliation, and she’d made Chelsea promise not to mention the notes to ANY of the boys this time.

Dear Tyler
,

Thank you for the notes
.

I really like them. And I really like you
.


YSA

Then she put her note inside a pink envelope and sealed it. Okay, she wasn’t exactly sure how she would get it to him. His backpack? Or his locker? But she could figure that out tomorrow.

As Amy walked with her friends to school, she tried to pretend she was listening to all they said. She nodded and said, “Uh-huh,” at appropriate times, but all she could really think about was the pink envelope in her backpack. She had decided to tell no one about this. It would be her secret. Then, just in case Tyler wasn’t the one who’d written her — although she felt 99 percent sure that he was — she wouldn’t be embarrassed again.

“Amy is daydreaming about boys again,” said Carlie as they turned into the schoolyard.

“What?” Amy turned and looked innocently at Carlie.

“Don’t try to hide it,” said Emily. “We know.”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, we know.”

“And it’s starting to worry us,” said Carlie.

Amy shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Hopefully you won’t be the one who’s sorry,” said Morgan.

“Why should I be sorry?” asked Amy.

“Because you’re missing out,” said Carlie. “You’re living in La-La Land, as my dad would say.”

“And we miss you,” said Emily.

Amy smiled at her friends. “You guys are imagining things.”

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” asked Carlie, pointing to where a bunch of kids were clustered in the courtyard.

“Looks like a fight,” said Morgan.

Amy glanced at her watch now. “Well, I gotta get to band. See ya!” And she took off through the seventh grade locker bay.

She hadn’t expected to have an opportunity to drop off her note just now, but to her surprise the locker bay was empty — probably due to whatever was going on in the courtyard just now. Anyway, Amy knew this was her big chance. And she also knew which locker was Tyler’s. She had figured that out yesterday while spying on him.
So she casually walked past the guys’ side of the bay and then paused very briefly in front of a certain locker as she slipped the pink envelope right through a vent slot. And then, feeling like a criminal, she hurried away. By the time she reached the band room, her heart was pounding so hard she thought someone might mistake it for a snare drum.

She was actually earlier than usual, and she was relieved to see that Oliver wasn’t there yet either. She did not need him teasing her again just now. She hung up her jacket, went to her seat, and casually began to warm up on her clarinet. It was amazing how soothing it was simply to play the scale. It settled her nerves, and before long she nearly forgot all about the pink envelope.

Oliver grinned at her as he came into the band room. “Hey, you beat me this morning, Second Chair. I guess I better be watching out.”

She simply rolled her eyes and continued to warm up.

By the time class ended, Amy felt completely at ease about her secret note. She figured this would be a win-win situation. Either Tyler would reveal himself to her, and she would know that she’d hit the nail on the head — and they would be dancing together by the time of the Valentine’s Day dance. Or, nothing would happen, and Amy would know that Tyler hadn’t been her secret admirer after all. And it was weird that in some ways Amy would be relieved if that was the case. She hated to admit it, but
she was starting to understand why her friends, other than Chelsea, seemed happier without being boy crazy. Maybe there was a reason people called it “boy crazy” — maybe it actually did make you crazy!

“There she is!” said a guy’s voice. Amy looked up to see a short, blond guy she didn’t know standing with Tyler and several other seventh grade boys, including Brett. And the guy was pointing right at her. “That’s the girl who put that stupid note in your locker, Tyler.”

Amy wanted to disappear. She wanted the wooden floors to open up and swallow her whole. She felt her face getting hot as the boys came closer to her.

“Did you write this?” demanded Tyler, waving the way too familiar pink envelope and note in front of her nose.

Amy didn’t answer. She just looked down at her feet and wondered why they had forgotten how to move.

“Because if you think I like you,” he continued loudly, “if you think I’m going to be your boyfriend, you are totally crazy!”

“Hey,” said Oliver, stepping between Amy and Tyler now. “Back off, bud.”

Oliver, though skinny, was several inches taller than most of the seventh-grade boys, and for some reason the guys seemed to be taking him seriously just now.

“Well, I don’t want you putting stuff in my locker, Amy!” shouted Tyler from behind Oliver. “So knock it off, ya hear!”

“She can hear you already,” said Oliver in a calm yet firmvoice. “Now why don’t you and your buddies just clear out.” He shook his head. “It’s a pretty bad state of affairs when guys have to pick on girls for their kicks.”

The boys made some grumbles and tossed out a few mean comments, but they slowly dispersed. And suddenly Amy’s feet remembered how to move, and without even saying a word, she took off in the opposite direction and ran.

She wasn’t really sure where she was going, but she knew she wanted to get out of there. And so she ran and she ran until she ended up in town … in front of her family’s restaurant. Of course, they weren’t open this early in the day, but she knew that someone would be inside. She just hoped that it wasn’t her parents. Usually her parents didn’t come in until eleven.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Ly when Amy slipped in the backdoor. “Why aren’t you at school?

“Amy,” said An as she set down a big chopping knife. “What’s wrong?”

And so Amy told both her sisters the whole story about what a fool she’d been. To her dismay they both started to giggle, and then they were both laughing — hysterically!

“It’s not funny!” said Amy.

“It’s a little funny,” said Ly as she leaned into An’s shoulder, suppressing her laughter.

“Well, I’m glad that I can entertain you both!” Amy stomped her foot now.

“We’re sorry,” said An. She stepped over and put her arm around Amy. “But I do think we both needed a good laugh just now.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Ly.

“We were actually having a fairly serious discussion about guys and relationships,” said An.

“And you provided some good comic relief,” said Ly.

“Glad you enjoyed my pain,” said Amy in grumpy voice.

“But why did you leave school?” asked An.

“Because I’m too humiliated to go back.”

“You have to go back,” said Ly.

“I can’t,” said Amy.

“You don’t have a choice,” said An, placing a firm hand on Amy’s shoulder. “You have to go back. Do you want me to take you?”

“No.” Amy firmly shook her head. “I can take myself.”

“You’ll need to check in at the office now,” said Ly. “And explain why you were truant.”

“Truant?” Amy frowned. She didn’t like the sound of that word.

Ly nodded. “Yes. That’s what they call it.”

“Fine,” said Amy. “I’m going.”

“This is one of those times when you need to ask God to help you, Amy,” said An. “He wants us to call out to him in times of trouble.”

“Right,” said Amy. “That would be now.”

“So,
do
that,” said An. “Call out to God, and he will answer you.”

Amy didn’t say anything as she headed for the back door.

But she knew this — she was not going back to school today.

Maybe never again!

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