Poor Gabby! No wondçr I had never seen her with anyone. There wasn't anyone.
Georgia licked her lips. "Isn't it a scream? That snip trying to make us think she's popular? I should write a real note on this-let her know that -her public isn't fooled."
"Don't you dare!"
"Oh, don't be dull!" She pinned it up, putting the tack back in-the same holes. "I'll let the joke ride until I think of something good."
I grabbed her arm~ "Don't you touch her notes again or I'll -- "
She shook me off. "You'll what? Tell her that yOu know her notes are phony? I can just see you!"
"I'll tell the Dean, that's what! I'll tell the Dean you've been opening Gabrielle's notes."
"Oh, yes? You looked at it, too."
"But you handed it to me!"
"Did I? My word against yours, sweetie pie."
"B~it -- "
"And if you talk, the whole campus will know about Gabrielle's fake notes. Think it over." She marched off.
I was so quiet on the way -home that Daddy said, "Smatter, Puddin'? Flunk a quiz?"
I assured him -that my academic status was satisfactory. "Then why the mourning?"
Before Daddy let me register he had warned me that the First Law of the Jungle for a professor's child was not to be a pipeline to the faculty. "But, Daddy, you're a professor."
"Student stuff, eh? Better sweat it out alone. Good. luck."
I did not tell Mother either, because with MOther free speech is not just a theory. I did nothing but worry. Poor Gabrielle! She took her "note" down next morning, looking pleased-and I wanted to cry. Then I saw the smirk on Georgia Lammers' face and I felt like murder and mayhem. There was another "note" Friday and I wanted to shout to her not to touch it. I didn't dare. It was like a time bomb, watching Gabrielle's pitiful makebelieve and knowing that Georgia meant to wreck it as soon as she thought up something nasty enough.
I was in the Registrar's office Monday, not to see Georgia, though I couldn't avoid her, but because I am a freshman reporter for the Campus Crier. One of my chores is -- getting up the "Happy Birthday" column. I thumbed through the files, noting dates from the coming Friday through the following Thursday. Gabrielle's name turned up for Friday and I decided to send her a birthday card, via the bulletin board, so for once she would have real mail. Next I listed Bun Peterson's name; her birthday was the same as Gabrielle's. Bun is president of the Student Council and head cheerleader and honorary football captain; it seemed a shame she had to have Gabrielle's birthday as well. I decided ~to get Gabrielle a really nice card, with a hanky.
As I finished Georgia picked up my list and said, "Who's getting senile?~
I said, "You are," and took it back.
She said, "Don't get too big for your beanie, freshman." She went on, "Going to the party for Bun Peterson?" -- then added, "Oh, I forgot-it's upper classmen only."
- I looked her in the eye. "A double choc malt against a used candy bar you aren't either!"
She didn't answer and I swaggered out.
It was a busy week. Junior sprained his arm, Mother was away two days and I kept house, the cat had to be wormed, and I typed a term paper for Cliff. I didn't think about Gabrielle until late Friday when I stopped by the board on the chance that there might be a note from Cliff. There wasn't, but there was another of Gabnelle's notes, in an envelope with her name typed. I realized with a shock that I had forgotten her birthday card.
I was wondering whether to get one and let her find it Monday, when I heard a pssst! It was Georgia Lammers, motioning me to come to the office. Curiosity got me; I went. She pulled me inside; there was no one else in the outer office. "Keep back," -- she whispered. "If she sees anyone, she may not stop. She's due now-it's after five."
I shook her off. "Who?"
"Gabrielle, of course. Shut up!"
"Huh?" I said. "She's already been there. Her 'note' for Monday is up."
"A lot you know! Hush!" She crowded me into the corner, then peeked out. --
"Quit shoving!" I said and looked out.
Gabrielle was pinning something up, her back to us. She saw the envelope with her name, took it down, and hurried away. --
I turned to Georgia. "If you've monkeyed with one of her notes, I will go to the Dean."
"Go ahead-see how far it gets you."
"Did you touch that note?"
"Sure I did-I wrote it. What's wrong with that?" She had me; anybody can send anyone a note. "Well, what did you say?"
"What business is it of yours? Still," she went on, "I'll tell you. It's too good to keep." She dug a paper out of her purse. It was a typewritten rough draft, full of x-outs and inserts; it read:
Dear Gabrielle,
Today is Bun Peterson's birthday-and we are giving her the finest surprise party this school has ever seen. We would like to invite everybody, but we can't-and you have been picked as one of the girls to represent the freshman class. We are gathering in groups and will descend on her in a body. Your group will meet at seven o'clock in the
Snack Shoppe. Put on your best bib and
tucker-and don't breathe a word to anyone!
The Committee
"It's a shabby trick," I said, "to invite her to another girl's party on her own birthday. You knew it was her birthday."
"What of it?"
"It's mean-but just like you. How did you get them to invite her? You aren't on the committee-are you?"
She stared, then laughed. "She's not invited to anything."
"Huh? You mean there's no party? But there is.,, "Oh, sure, there's a party for Bun Peterson. But that little snip won't be there. That's the joke."
It finally sank in. Gabrielle would go to the Snack Shoppe and wait-and wait-and wait-while the party she thought she had been invited to went on without her. "That strikes you as funny?" I said.
"That's just the beginning," this Lammers person answered. "About eight-thirty, when she is beginning to wonder 'Wha Hoppen?' a messenger will bring another note. It will be blank paper, just like those she sends to herself-then she'll know." She giggled and wet her lips. "The little fake will have her comeuppance."