As Amsterdam! Amsterdam! nears it's end, for some reason I feel the need to dedicate the final chapters to people. So, emerald-doll, I hope this helps cheer you up. I heard a rumor that Jessi stole your Snapper. That sucks.
Pete:
Mission accomplished.
-Alan
I dream up a lot of crazy schemes. Usually they fall apart pretty early on. That's what I expect. They're stupid. Why should they work? So, imagine my surprise when I actually pulled off my wildest, most grandiose scheme.
It started out as a joke. As usual on a hot summer day, Pete Black and I were hanging out at the Stoneybrook Public Library checking out the nude art books. There's not much of a selection. Mrs. Kishi keeps the really good ones locked in her office. Anyway, Pete and I were sitting in the stacks, flipping through the books and eating Cheetos. (Normally, Howie Johnson would have been with us, but his parents shipped him off to dance camp for the summer. Pete and I didn't know what to think about that. So, we tried not to think about it at all). After we tired of the books, Pete went to find the newest Danielle Steel novel (we enjoy reading the sex scenes aloud) and I went to the card catalogue. That's where I ran into Mallory Pike and her geeky boyfriend.
The gentleman that I am, I bowed gallantly and took her hand. "Good day, my auburn headed lady,"
Mallory jerked her hand away. "Not now, Alan. Can't you see I'm on a sort-of date with my sort-of boyfriend?"
Her what? "Sorry, milady and good sir," I said with another bow. "Do not mind me, Young Mister Hobart. I meant no offense. We need not duel over Miss Pike's honor,"
Mallory appeared flustered. I chuckled, inwardly. Just as I wanted. Chivalry is neither dead nor wasted on the homely and strange.
"Er - excuse us, Alan," Mallory finally said. "But this is my and Ben's last sort-of date before I leave for Amsterdam,"
My ears perked up. "Amsterdam?"
Mallory nodded, enthusiastically. "Yep. Our associate member, Shannon Kilbourne's second cousin died, so the entire BSC is accompanying the Kilbournes to Amsterdam! Isn't that dibble?"
Dibble, indeed. When I left Mallory and Ben at the card catalogue, an elaborate plan was already forming in my mind. I knew I needed to travel to Amsterdam, too. For the last six months, I'd been working after school at my Aunt Julitta's florist shop (not that I'd ever admit it to anyone) and that money was burning a hole in my pocket. I finally understood what I'd been saving for all those months - a few wild nights in the arms of a scarlet woman. I'd be one of the first guys at SMS to lose his virginity. Well, after every guy who'd dated Stacey McGill. And if I managed to infuriate Kristy Thomas in the process, even better.
The pieces fell into place easily. Logan Bruno, simpleton that he can be, unknowingly provided me with all the information I needed. Pete Black provided me with an alibi. My mom's friends the Perkinses provided me with a huge dog carrier (they really should start closing their garage door). And my dear, sweet cousin Mena provided me with a ride to the airport for the low cost of twenty dollars. I must say, for a seventeen year old, Mena did a fabulous impersonation of Kristy's mom.
I still can't believe any of it worked.
But, there I was nearing the end of a two week stay in the exciting city of Amsterdam and I hadn't been caught yet. Shannon's and Greer's mothers were completely clueless. I'd even started wandering the house freely and eating in the kitchen. No one said anything! I guess they didn't expect some kid from Stoneybrook to be living in the attic utility closet. Or, more likely, assumed I was one of those weird Gegenhubers from next door.
I strolled into the kitchen Thursday morning, feeling quite buoyant and jolly. I was wearing my purple fedora, which unlike everyone else I had not stolen from Stacey, but rather from Claudia. She was so stoned out of her mind I doubt she even noticed. When I entered the kitchen, I was shocked to see Stacey sitting at the table, eating a bowl of oatmeal, as if she hadn't been missing for over a week. She looked dull and tired. She barely glanced my way. Not knowing what to say, I simply bowed.
Also seated around the kitchen were, what I like to call, The Former Flames of Alan Gray. Kristy Thomas, Claudia Kishi, and Greer Carson. Kristy and I had a thing back in seventh grade. She was crazy about me. I let her down gently though. As a strong young buck, I needed space to play the field. Claudia had pursued me through a personal ad, even telephoning to beg for a date. All that puff paint and men's clothing is just not my style. I let her down gently, too. Stacey and I, of course, had our little one night fling in the alley. Now that she was back, I hoped she didn't want to start up again. Sure, she had magic fingers and according to Pete, a mouth and tongue that can change a guy's life, but I was ready to start something serious with Greer. There was just that pesky problem of Greer not speaking to me.
Greer and I, we'd been having a fun time in Amsterdam. That is, until Kristy Thomas forced us onto her pedal boat team. Kristy and that Justin guy ruined any chance I had with the prettiest, smartest girl who'd ever paid attention to me. Maybe ruined. Maybe not. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve.
"Miladies," I said, taking a seat. I picked up a couple apples and started juggling them. No one paid attention.
The kitchen door opened and in walked Mrs. Kilbourne in a jogging suit. "Good morning, girls!" she called, cheerily. She stopped and patted my head, "And guten tag to you, young man." Did she think I was five?
"Oh, hello, Stacey," said Mrs. Kilbourne. "I haven't seen much of you this trip."
Kristy, Greer, and Claudia choked on their orange juice. Stacey looked up from her oatmeal with these odd, hollowed out-looking eyes. Mrs. Kilbourne didn't notice. I don't think Mrs. Kilbourne noticed anything ever.
"Well, I'm off to meet with Saskia's lawyer. See you girls later," said Mrs. Kilbourne leaving the kitchen.
"Mary Anne and I are going to Rembrandthuis and the Rijksmuseum. There's a special Johannes Vermeer exhibit," Claudia told us, actually sounding lucid. She even looked almost normal in pink culottes, purple plaid hightops, and a purple tank top. Too bad she was also wearing an ugly white bonnet and huge pearl earrings.
"Abby and I are taking Maria and Amanda to the Artis Zoo. I've not been yet," said Kristy.
Claudia and Kristy washed out there bowls, then left the kitchen. Stacey followed, not saying anything. That left me alone with Greer, who was scowling down at her empty bowl. Casually, I tipped back in my chair. It fell over. From the floor, I heard Greer snort. She stood to leave.
"You're such a clown, Alan," she said. Normally, I don't mind being called a clown. I pride myself on my sense of humor. I bring the fun to every party! Coming from Greer, it hurt. I jumped up and grabbed her arm.
"Wait, Greer," I said. "I'm really sorry about the other day. I want to make it up to you."
Greer stuck her nose in the air and tapped her foot, impatiently. "I'm listening,"
"Oh, I have something really special planned!" I told her. "Meet me in the foyer at one. Wear something nice. I promise you won't be sorry."
Greer narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she said, whirling around and storming from the kitchen.
Making up with her wasn't going to be easy.
At one 'o' clock, I was waiting in the foyer. Abby and Anna had helped me dress for the special occasion. Anna and I weren't sure about the rainbow suspenders, but Abby swore they looked great. I decided to listen to her. Robin Williams used to wear rainbow suspenders and he's kind of my hero. Well, him and that kid from Saved By The Bell.
Since my fight with Greer, I'd been spending a lot of time with the Stevenson twins. They were fun, especially Abby. If things didn't work out with Greer, I'd consider dating one of them. Or both. I know it's Pete's dream to date both Shillaber twins at the same time. Too bad Miranda hates him. Or, maybe it's Mariah. I can never tell them apart. I wouldn't mind having my own set of twins. We'd have a wild time in the utility closet, as long as Abby stopped sneezing and Anna didn't bring her violin.
Fifteen minutes late, as usual, Greer came downstairs. As soon as I saw her, I got a nervous feeling in my stomach. I never felt like that with any other girl.
"You look great," I told her. She had on this filmy green low-cut dress. It looked really nice with her reddish hair and creamy skin. Plus, I could see down her dress. She had an awesome rack. Thanks to my cousin Mena's tips on talking to girls, I knew not to tell her that though.
"The green of your dress nicely compliments your hair and skin tone, milady," I said with a bow.
"Oh, thanks, Alan. I like your...suspenders. I guess,"
"Don't worry, they won't show," I slipped on the gray sports coat I borrowed from Claudia (actually with permission - a first at Verbruggenhuis). "See? I won't embarrass you."
Greer blushed slightly, but didn't say anything. I offered my arm and escorted her to the tram stop. We didn't speak the entire ride. Greer didn't ask where we were going either. I was glad. I wanted to surprise her.
"This is it!" I said, as we stepped off the tram. We'd been let off right across the street from our final destination. Everything was falling into place.
"The Le Pecheur?" replied Greer. "Gee, Alan. This looks kind of expensive."
"No! No! Don't worry about it!" I insisted. "We have to eat here. It's one of the only restaurants in The Netherlands that specializes in seafood. It came very highly recommended in Mary Anne's guidebook. Uh...you do like seafood, right?"
"Of course,"
"Good. Come on then," I grabbed her arm and started to pull her toward the restaurant. Then I remembered my gentlemanly manners and slipped my arm through hers. "This way, milady,"
Inside the restaurant, I walked up to the Maitre d' and said, casually, "Reservation for Pennyweather Macintosh." Greer stifled a giggle. Excellent, I thought.
We were led to a table on the garden terrace. The view was even better than the guidebook promised. Surely, there was nowhere more romantic in Amsterdam. Greer appeared impressed. We studied our menus in silence. Last week, it was so easy talking to Greer. I didn't know what to say to her anymore. How had that dumb pedal boat race changed so much?
"I'm sorry about the other day," I told her.
Again, Greer blushed slightly. "Oh, it's all right, Alan. You were only having a good time. I'm the one who ruined things. I overreacted,"
I expected a big scene with shouting and arm waving and maybe some glass throwing. She'd caused quite a scene at the mooring. Shannon Kilbourne said Greer was a drama queen. For a drama queen, she was being rather nonchalant. Girls are so weird.
"I'm glad we've cleared the air, milady. I wouldn't wish you to think me a boorish brute,"
"You know, Alan, you can stop all the goofy 'milady' talk," said Greer. She didn't say it meanly, but there was something odd in her voice. In fact, there was something odd about her entire demeanor. She wasn't the same fun, carefree Greer as before. Maybe she was on her period or something. Too bad my cousin Mena told me to never ask a girl that. I asked her once and she broke a plate over my head (which sort of answered my question).
The service was pretty slow, but finally the waitress brought our food. I ordered the sautéed monkfish (had no idea what that was) and Greer ordered the spicy prawns. We sampled each other's lunches and everything tasted great. Although, between you and me, we could have had just as tasty a meal at Burger King for a lot less.
"Uh...Alan?" said Greer while we waited for dessert. "Aren't those the Stevenson twins?"
I turned in my chair. "Excellent! They're just on time!" I exclaimed, watching Abby and Anna approach.
They both wore long black dresses. Anna carried her violin. Abby promised she played an instrument, too, but refused to give specifics. As they approached, Anna lifted the violin to her shoulder and began to play. I'm not a fan of classical music, but I admit it sounded nice. Very romantic, at least. I kept waiting for Abby to produce her instrument and finally she did...and started to slap it against her knee.
"The spoons?" cried Greer, bursting into laughter.
The Stevenson twins didn't get much playing time in before the Maitre d' and a waitress rushed out onto the terrace. Anna went willingly, appearing unfazed as she left the terrace still playing her violin. Abby, however, had to be dragged away by the waitress after the Maitre'd confiscated her spoons.
"Not exactly the romantic gesture I planned," I said, as we watched Abby's feet disappear into the main dining room.
Greer stopped laughing and got that odd look on her face again. "Alan...we need to talk about something,"
Uh oh. Was she officially breaking up with me? Mena's coaching hadn't prepared me for that. I guess because Mena never expected me to actually find a girlfriend.
"Well, Alan...I've had a lot of fun with you. Actually, I don't think I would have had much fun at all if not for you. We've had some good times. I think you're a great friend. But, that's all I think of you as. A friend,"
My stomach fell to my feet. I couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing except, "Oh,"
"It's not anything personal," continued Greer, "I'm just not ready for a boyfriend or a serious relationship. We're only thirteen. Look at Mary Anne, she's been in a serious relationship for how long? And she's miserable. I don't need anyone stifling me like that. I just want to have fun,"
"I see,"
"I mean, I do like you, Alan. Maybe someday I could even like you as something other than a friend. But that day's a long way off. In the meantime, we can still have fun together. We'll get together in Stoneybrook and go on some crazy adventures. You just need to understand though that there isn't anything more between us. Nothing more than friendship,"
My stomach was still at my feet. At the same time, it felt like I'd been socked hard in the gut. All my confidence blew right off the terrace. If I said too much, I might actually have cried.
"I understand, Greer," I managed to reply.
Greer smiled, as if believing everything really was okay. The waitress brought our check then and Greer snatched it away.
"Let me pay half," she said. "As long as we're in The Netherlands, we might as well go dutch!" then she giggled. I smiled weakly and didn't protest.
We returned to Verbruggenhuis hardly saying a word to each other. Greer chattered on incessantly with some old woman on the tram. Maybe she felt uncomfortable, too. Verbruggenhuis was noisy, mostly because Kristy Thomas was there and she can't not be noisy. Kristy was assisting Abby in the reenactment of the scene at Le Pecheur. Mary Anne, Claudia, Shannon, weird Mallory, and her even weirder friend Ger-whatever were bouncing on the couch, squealing and laughing. Dawn and Stacey were slumped in an armchair together. Can Dawn Schafer ever not be the life of the party?
I plastered a fake grin on my face as I stepped into the living room and said in a very fake cheery voice, "Ladies, ladies, what is the commotion?"
"Kristy's had another Great Idea!" shrieked Mallory.
"And what pray tell would that be? A clog dancing show? A balloon animal-making contest? A pedal boat parade?"
"No," snapped Kristy. "Although, the balloon animal-making contest is a neat idea. Write that down, Mary Anne."
"We're having a sleepover!" shouted Mallory, obviously unable to contain herself any longer.
"Yep," said Kristy. "Tomorrow night, we'll celebrate our last night in Amsterdam with a BSC tradition. Ghost stories, pizza toasts, babysitting adventures..."
"Pillow fights, skimpy nightgowns, bra freezing..." I continued.
"You're not invited, Alan!" Kristy exclaimed. "You're going next door with Gerhild's brother!"
"That gee - er, nice guy?"
"Yep, and you are to stay there all night!"
Right.