Bingo Brown's Guide to Romance by Betsy Byars Page A

book once: “She smiled through her tears.” His heart ached.
    Bingo held his brother tighter when he saw her small, pointed teeth. “You always say the right thing to me.”
    â€œI try.”
    â€œBingo, can I ask you a favor?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWould you keep on writing me letters?”
    â€œI wasn’t sure you liked them.”
    â€œI do. I love them. I don’t even care if they’re Xeroxes!”
    â€œThey won’t be.”
    â€œAnd I don’t know, I just feel like if I thought, well, I was never going to get another one of your letters, it would make me even sadder than I am.”
    â€œI wouldn’t want that to happen.”
    â€œThen you will write?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut just … just … friendly stuff.”
    Bingo understood that there would be no more talk of the hunger of love, no matter how loudly his stomach rumbled.
    â€œI’ll try to write about what I’m doing and what’s going on around here, things like that,” he said manfully.
    â€œThank you, Bingo.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.”
    She stood up. “I have to go.”
    â€œAlready?”
    She was still holding Jamie’s hand. It was awkward to stand without breaking the connection, but Bingo managed it.
    She didn’t seem to want to let go. Bingo didn’t want her to let go either. He didn’t want her to go—period. It was as if she was taking something of great value with her, something that might never come again.
    She sighed.
    Bingo resorted to a desperate half-truth. He said, “Jamie can say bye-bye.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he had to keep her from leaving. Her face brightened, which made the half-truth worthwhile.
    â€œReally?”
    â€œWell, he can say it, but he doesn’t know when to say it.”
    She leaned forward over Jamie’s small hand. “Bye-bye, Jamie, bye-bye,” she said, looking into his round eyes. “Will you tell me good-bye? Next time I see you, you might be a great big boy. Bye-bye.”
    Bingo didn’t dare to hope. “Sometimes he won’t say it—and then sometimes he says it when it’s not appropriate—like in the bathtub and—”
    Jamie came through. “Bye-bye-bye-bye-bye,” he said. Five of them! Well, two and a half.
    Bingo thought he would burst with emotion—with pride and sorrow and loss.
    â€œGood-bye, Jamie,” Melissa said in the kindest voice Bingo had ever heard. Then she looked at him, and in the same kind way she said, “Good-bye, Bingo.”
    She took one step forward and pressed her lips to his. It was so unexpected that Bingo didn’t have time to get his lips ready.
    She pulled back and eyed him. “Bingo Brown, have you been kissing other girls?”
    â€œNo. No!” He was pleased he did not blurt out that he hadn’t even been trying. “Why?”
    â€œBecause you kiss better.”
    â€œBetter?”
    Bingo wanted to ask her to repeat that, but instead he smiled and said coolly, “Well, you know, when you’ve got it …”
    Melissa grinned. Then she swirled. Her hair fanned out, leaving the faint scent of gingersnaps in the room. Then she went out the door.
    Bingo continued to stand in the open door with Jamie in his arms, watching until she was out of sight. He felt both better and worse than he had ever felt in his life.

After the Last Cartoon
    B INGO STARTED BACK TO the sofa. “That was Melissa—the girl you’ve heard so much about,” he told the back of Jamie’s neck.
    Somewhere a phone rang.
    â€œAnd you don’t know this, but you have just heard a mixed-sex conversation so great it could go down in the history of mixed-sex conversations.”
    The phone rang again. Bingo looked up, surprised. “Oh, that’s our phone.” He shifted Jamie to his hip and picked up the phone.
    â€œBingo, hi,