The Luckiest Girl by Beverly Cleary Page A

different.
    Shelley was restless when Mavis and Katie had gone. Tom went outdoors and she was left alone with Luke. She glanced at the clock and wandered around the room, reading titles in the bookcase, picking up magazines and laying them down again. She wondered if Philip would walk or come in a car and what they would do when he arrived. Making a date with Katie present was not very satisfactory, because a boy naturally would not like todiscuss the details with a younger girl hanging on every word he said. Whatever they did, she wanted more than anything for him to have a good time so that he would ask her out again and then again. It would be such fun to have dates with a boy all the girls wanted to know and especially during basketball season. She would go to all the games, and when Philip scored, everyone sitting near her would look at her and think, There’s Phil Blanton’s girl, and she would go on cheering just as if she wasn’t aware that everyone was looking at her….
    Shelley hummed to herself, nibbled at a hangnail, sat down. She wished Luke would hurry up and leave the room. It was not like him to spend the evening reading when he could be working on his motorcycle. And she still had Katie to worry about. If Katie came home and climbed up on the refrigerator again, perhaps she should look her straight in the eye through the glass in the transom and say, “Well, if it isn’t Katie!” Maybe that would embarrass her enough to make her scramble down. There were, Shelley decided, a number of advantages to being an only child, after all. She hoped that Tom would not suddenly announce that this was a good night to wash or iron. Itwould never do to ask a star basketball player to help with the Michies’ laundry.
    Shelley looked at her watch again, stood up, read a few more titles in the bookcase, wandered across the room, and picked up one of Luke’s science fiction magazines.
    â€œLuke, why do you read this stuff anyway?” Shelley asked, hoping to draw his attention from the story so that he might think about leaving.
    â€œBecause I like it,” answered Luke, not looking up from his magazine.
    Because she had to do something to fill the dragging minutes, Shelley read a few sentences to herself, giggled, and began to read aloud with exaggerated expression. “‘The sun beat down on the asteroid. Sweat stood out on the lean jaws of Brad Conway as he stared at the dials of the transmutor. In thirty seconds…in twenty seconds…in—’”
    â€œAw, cut it out,” said Luke, looking up at last.
    Amused that she had finally caught Luke’s attention, Shelley dropped the magazine and picked up another, which she opened at random and began to read. “‘The spaceship left the planet and was only thirty light-years into the galaxy when Captain Rowley felt the controlcomp go dead inhis hands. Automatically he glanced earthside in the telescan—’”
    The magazine was snatched from Shelley’s hands. “You cut that out!” ordered Luke, so fiercely that Shelley was taken aback. These stories, which were funny to her, were not funny to him.
    â€œI guess I was just surprised to see you reading, is all,” Shelley faltered. “You’re usually working on your motorcycle.”
    â€œAw, Mom’s right,” said Luke morosely. “I’ll never get it to run.”
    So that was what was bothering Luke. He was discouraged about his motorcycle. “Yes, you will,” said Shelley, wanting him to succeed. “I know you will get it to run sometime.”
    The twirl of the doorbell was so startling to Shelley that she felt as if everything inside her had stopped. Philip! He had come and now she felt completely unprepared. Nervously she ran her hand over her hair and smoothed her skirt. What on earth would she say? She moistened her lips and with a hand chilled by nervousness, opened the door. Philip really