Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye by Sandra Byrd

else wasn’t going? It didn’t really matter. What mattered was . . . did I want to go with him?
    “I’d best get going. Got loads of homework to do,” he said, laughing lightly. “I’m sure you do too.”
    “Okay. Talk to you soon,” I said.
    “I’m hoping so.” Then he clicked off.
    I just sat there on my floor. Did I want to go with him? There was nothing wrong with going as friends, right? Yeah, there might have been a little bit of a draw toward more—one I didn’t necessarily want but couldn’t get rid of. But I was pretty confident I could keep things at “just friends.” I was sure he’d totally understand that, and he probably only thought of me as a friend too, which is what would make it fine.
    But were we actually friends?
    Maybe not exactly . . . but I felt like we probably could be. Besides, I knew he wasn’t really my type, but there was a little thrill when I was with him because I never knew what he was going to do or say next. He was nice looking. A little dangerous, maybe. And other girls envied me.
    I shook my head to clear my thoughts and texted Penny. Maybe she’d have an idea of what to do.
    Hey, Penny. What’s up?
    A few minutes later my phone vibrated.
    Can’t text now, with Mum. Check this out, though!
    A minute later I got a picture message of the beautiful teal dress with silver strappy shoes and a pair of dewdrop earrings.
    So, so pretty. I was kind of happy she was too busy to answer.
    I didn’t text Supriya.

Chapter 32

    I headed downstairs to eat some ice cream with Louanne only to find that she’d already gone to bed. I scooped a bowl of chocolate brownie delight for myself and took it back to my room. Might as well look at some of the Asking for Trouble letters , I thought. And tidy up a few things to give to Natalie tomorrow.
    I’d put together a big packet of information on Be@titude, profiling one of the moms they’d helped. I also looked up the history of May Day, staying away from the Communist implications, as I’d been warned to stay away from politics. I also ignored all the pagan junk. Instead, I focused on the celebration of spring—and new life—after a long, wet winter. And the Maydayrun motorbike race that took place every year. Big bikes, fabbo helmets, loud engines, and speed. I wouldn’t mind seeing it someday.
    I logged into my e-mail system. Wow! There were about ten letters to choose from this week. I quickly scanned the subject lines and then the senders’ addresses. I always wondered if Ashley or Penny or even Hazelle would ever send a letter.
    What? I enlarged my screen to 125 percent. I couldn’t believe my eyes. But there it was.
    A letter from my sister—Louanne! I clicked it open.
    Dear Asking for Trouble,
    I have a big problem and I don’t know what to do. It’s not dangerus, but it could be a bigger problem really soon. My family is nice, but if I tell anyone, they’ll make me do something I really can’t do and then I would have to disobey and get in even more trouble. What should I do?
    Was she in trouble? Should I confront her? She said it wasn’t dangerous, but still . . .
    I stayed up late and prayed about it, and I looked up Scripture to write my answer. Then I mailed in my response to Jack. Would he be surprised to see it a day early?
    I’ll answer her question in this week’s paper. If I don’t see an improvement in a week, or ten days at the most, I’ll confront her and tell Mom and Dad.
    Growl scratched at my door, which was odd. Normally he was glued to Louanne, even while she was sleeping.

Chapter 33

    I got to school early the next day. Good thing, too, because if Penny was the good witch Glinda, then Natalie was the Wicked Witch of the West, and she was waiting for me in the WA Times office.
    “I’m not sure if this is all you could come up with, Savannah,” she said, throwing a sheaf of papers at me, “but mostly it’s rubbish. You just focused your attention on your friends as couples, your