Read Online Three's a Crowd by Margaret Pearce - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Margaret Pearce
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Sometimes my mother just gets to me. âHeâs having you on. Heâs the school clown and nutty as your Christmas cake.â
At that moment Brat screamed back into the kitchen with a balloon dripping water. By the time I had managed to take it from him and chased him back into the bathroom the opportunity to enlighten my mother about Jeebie was gone. Not that she would have believed me. My mother was no judge of character.
Neither was Brat. After winning a pile of cents from Jeebie, he was hooked. Jeebie was his favourite person. Every morning despite my threats and protests, he darted next door to make sure that Jeebie accompanied us to school.
I got more furious as the days passed. If I refused to walk beside him, heâd go into his howling wolf act with Brat shrieking encouragement, attracting the curious stares of everyone in the street. If I gave in to this ridiculous blackmail, it looked as though I was encouraging him.
The only time Drew Jamison was around at school to talk to was in the mornings. Of course, Jeebie was always there too, emitting vibes like some sort of super insect repellent. The entire week I never got more than a distant nod out of Drew and by Friday I was desperate. Was it too late to get Drew to repeat his invitation to take me to Tootles Disco? Or, horrors, had he already invited Louise?
âHeâs pretty cute in a wacky sort of way,â Julie chuckled, having seen my unsuccessful efforts to shake off Jeebie every morning.
âNot my type,â I snapped back.
Friday afternoon I was even more sure he wasnât my type. Julie and I were in the library; Jeebie was here too, but to my relief hadnât noticed us. His head was down and he was writing furiously, surrounded by high piled books. I sneaked another look at him. Without his clownish grin, he looked different and somehow more mature. His face almost seemed passable when it wasnât screwed up into silly expressions. He looked resolute and good humoured, but definitely not my type.
Julie and I had collected the books we needed for our history assignment and had settled ourselves down in our usual corner to work. Drew came in. He wore great jeans and a casual shirt, making all the other guys look like nerds. He came over to our corner.
âCan I join you?â he whispered.
Julie and I shifted our books and papers along without a word. He sat down, held up a book, and looked at me. I felt my knees do their usual boneless act. He had the bluest, most intense eyes I had ever gazed into. I dragged my concentration down to the title of his book. It was the year 11 English book I had completed the notes on.
I winked at him and produced my pages of notes. I had separated all the sections into themes, and put in my comments and accompanying page numbers. Drew sprawled his elbows on the table and studied my neat printing. Julie nudged me under the table. Miss Hendry prowled around, her eyes like gimlets looking for someone to pounce on. Our little corner was very peaceful so she moved away.
During the bustle of leaving I sensed Drew right behind us. As we got out into the yard he slid his hand around my bare elbow, pulling me back from the others. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, although I was too muddled to work out the connection. I guess it was just Drew.
âDid you make notes on any of the others?â he murmured.
I nodded agreement, restraining myself from the immaturity of shrieking âEureka!â I had hooked this gorgeous guy. The extra time I had put into taking notes of the Year 11 English books was paying off.
Drew slung his bag over his shoulder and smiled down at me, waving an absent farewell to the furious Louise and the amused Julie as the two of us walked together out the school gate. Drew started to say something when his face suddenly froze.
I looked up. My elation and triumph fizzled away. I had two more males to escort me home. Jeebie, crumpled floral shirt flying
At that moment Brat screamed back into the kitchen with a balloon dripping water. By the time I had managed to take it from him and chased him back into the bathroom the opportunity to enlighten my mother about Jeebie was gone. Not that she would have believed me. My mother was no judge of character.
Neither was Brat. After winning a pile of cents from Jeebie, he was hooked. Jeebie was his favourite person. Every morning despite my threats and protests, he darted next door to make sure that Jeebie accompanied us to school.
I got more furious as the days passed. If I refused to walk beside him, heâd go into his howling wolf act with Brat shrieking encouragement, attracting the curious stares of everyone in the street. If I gave in to this ridiculous blackmail, it looked as though I was encouraging him.
The only time Drew Jamison was around at school to talk to was in the mornings. Of course, Jeebie was always there too, emitting vibes like some sort of super insect repellent. The entire week I never got more than a distant nod out of Drew and by Friday I was desperate. Was it too late to get Drew to repeat his invitation to take me to Tootles Disco? Or, horrors, had he already invited Louise?
âHeâs pretty cute in a wacky sort of way,â Julie chuckled, having seen my unsuccessful efforts to shake off Jeebie every morning.
âNot my type,â I snapped back.
Friday afternoon I was even more sure he wasnât my type. Julie and I were in the library; Jeebie was here too, but to my relief hadnât noticed us. His head was down and he was writing furiously, surrounded by high piled books. I sneaked another look at him. Without his clownish grin, he looked different and somehow more mature. His face almost seemed passable when it wasnât screwed up into silly expressions. He looked resolute and good humoured, but definitely not my type.
Julie and I had collected the books we needed for our history assignment and had settled ourselves down in our usual corner to work. Drew came in. He wore great jeans and a casual shirt, making all the other guys look like nerds. He came over to our corner.
âCan I join you?â he whispered.
Julie and I shifted our books and papers along without a word. He sat down, held up a book, and looked at me. I felt my knees do their usual boneless act. He had the bluest, most intense eyes I had ever gazed into. I dragged my concentration down to the title of his book. It was the year 11 English book I had completed the notes on.
I winked at him and produced my pages of notes. I had separated all the sections into themes, and put in my comments and accompanying page numbers. Drew sprawled his elbows on the table and studied my neat printing. Julie nudged me under the table. Miss Hendry prowled around, her eyes like gimlets looking for someone to pounce on. Our little corner was very peaceful so she moved away.
During the bustle of leaving I sensed Drew right behind us. As we got out into the yard he slid his hand around my bare elbow, pulling me back from the others. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, although I was too muddled to work out the connection. I guess it was just Drew.
âDid you make notes on any of the others?â he murmured.
I nodded agreement, restraining myself from the immaturity of shrieking âEureka!â I had hooked this gorgeous guy. The extra time I had put into taking notes of the Year 11 English books was paying off.
Drew slung his bag over his shoulder and smiled down at me, waving an absent farewell to the furious Louise and the amused Julie as the two of us walked together out the school gate. Drew started to say something when his face suddenly froze.
I looked up. My elation and triumph fizzled away. I had two more males to escort me home. Jeebie, crumpled floral shirt flying
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