"Before we start learning computer literacy and practicing on the machines in the Media Center, we are going to do a little experiment that will be a lot of fun and will also help you understand just how computers work.

  "For this experiment, you will each fill out a questionnaire about things you like and dislike. Then I will feed your answers into the big computer in the principal's office. This afternoon, right after lunch, you will each get a personal reply from the computer. It will tell you which boy and which girl in this class you have the most things in common with. I guarantee that there will be some surprises, and I know you'll all have a lot of fun."

  My eyes opened wide. I was thinking about those computer dating places where they find the person you have a lot in common with and arrange a date for you. That was how they did it, wasn't it? They gave you a questionnaire to fill out and then fed it into their computer to find out who you matched up with. In one advertisement I saw in a magazine they had even called the computer a "Romance Machine." It was too fabulous to be true. Good old Wiggins. Because of her, both my questionnaire and Randy's would go into the machine, and then the whole world would know how perfect we were for each other.

  Wiggins was going on and on about computers and how they worked, and I tried to listen. But mostly all I could think about was Randy and our date. I wondered if he was thinking about me, too, but I was still afraid to look at him.

  The questions on the sheets Wiggins sent down each row were fill in the blank, with the blank being what you liked or disliked. I tried to listen as she explained how that made it easier for the computer to compare answers. I knew I had to concentrate on what I was doing. If I goofed, it could mean disaster. I looked at the first question. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD?

  That was easy. Deep-dish pepperoni, green pepper, and mushroom pizza. I started to write that down, but then I stopped. Randy had said that was his favorite kind of pizza, but was it his absolutely favorite kind of food? Maybe he was a fried chicken nut. Or maybe his favorite food in the whole world was something weird like liverwurst or oxtail soup. I decided to skip that one for now and come back to it later.

  Next came another "What do you like best" question. WHAT SPORT DO YOU LIKE BEST? Up until last weekend I would have probably answered "bicycling," since I love to ride my bike, or "swimming," since I like to go to the beach in the summertime. But things were different now that Randy had asked me to watch his football game. Surely football was his favorite sport, so I wrote "FOOTBALL" in large letters.

  The rest was about the same. Even on the other side of the paper, the "Like the Least" questions were pretty standard stuff. Still, I couldn't help thinking that I didn't really know very much about Randy. I had been so sure that we had tons of things in common, but now that I had to fill out this questionnaire, I wasn't sure anymore.

  As I looked back over the questions, I tried to figure out how he would answer them. Under "Like the Least" I had just naturally put "Dust the house." But what would Randy say? He had probably never dusted the house in his life. Maybe I should change it to "Take out the garbage" or "Mow the lawn," I thought, even though I live in an apartment and don't have a lawn to mow. Randy has a lawn, and it's probably his job to mow it. I was getting confused. This was a lot harder than I had imagined it would be.

  Finally I settled on "Take out the garbage" for the chore I liked the least, and I put "Deep-dish pepperoni, green pepper, and mushroom pizza" for the food I liked best. I was thinking about some of the other ones that might need changing when Wiggins held up her hand again.

  "Time's up," she said. "Pass all the papers forward. You'll get the results after lunch."

  Waiting for afternoon and the results would be like waiting for Christmas. It would take forever to come. And when it did and we got the results back, what if I found out that Randy and I didn't have enough things in common after all? What if we each matched up with someone else? My heart dropped into my shoes. What if he matched up with Taffy Sinclair?

  No, I thought. Randy and I were meant for each other, and the Romance Machine was going to prove it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "If I don't match up with Scott Daly I'll just die!" said Melanie. "I know he likes me. You should see how he acts when no one is looking, and he's always borrowing notebook paper and pencils."

  We were sitting in the cafeteria having lunch, and all anyone could talk about was the computer matchup.

  "If only Mr. Scott had filled out a questionnaire," Christie murmured. "I just know we would match up." Christie's mother, Mrs. Winchell, is principal of Mark Twain Elementary, and Mr. Scott is the new assistant principal this year. Christie has had a crush on him ever since the beginning of school.

  "It wouldn't make any difference if he had filled out a questionnaire," said Katie. "It's all very scientific. The computer matches up people according to what they have in common. What could you and Mr. Scott possibly have in common?"

  Christie looked positively stricken. Katie ignored the expression on her face and went right on talking, making things worse with every word she said.

  "Just because you like someone doesn't mean that you have anything in common. It might just be a physical attraction. And don't forget. Wiggins said that there would be lots of surprises. Who knows, maybe all of us have picked the wrong friends. Maybe we don't even know that there is someone else in our class that we should be hanging out with."

  "There won't be any surprises for me," I said confidently. "At least not when it comes to boys. Randy and I talked about all the things we like and don't like at Mama Mia's before we even knew there would be any questionnaires. You would never believe how much we have in common."

  Nobody said anything for the next few minutes. I couldn't help thinking about my four best friends as I finished my lunch. Melanie might match up with Scott since she watches every move he makes and probably knows everything he likes and dislikes. But what about the other three? Beth never acts as if she knows boys are alive, and Christie only thinks about Mr. Scott. But Katie is the worst. She practically hates boys.

  I also couldn't help thinking about my parents. If there had been computers in those days and my mother and father had done a matchup, maybe they would never have gotten together. I was sure my father wasn't an alcoholic when my mother first met him—she would never have gone out with someone like that—but still, for things to turn out the way they did with the divorce and everything, there must have been a lot of differences between them. In fact, from what I knew about both of them, I couldn't think of a single thing they had in common. Except for me, of course. Good grief! I thought. If they had done a computer matchup, I might never have been born.

  I decided not to think about that anymore. It was too depressing. Besides, I could hardly wait to get to class. I wondered if Wiggins planned to torture us by making us wait half the afternoon to give out our computer printouts. Still, she had said after lunch.

  Sure enough, she called the class to order and then read practically a million announcements. I tapped the eraser of my pencil on the edge of my desk and tried to listen, but all I could think about was the Romance Machine and the matchup. I could hardly wait to get the results. I needed them to prove to Joel and Keith and everybody else that Randy and I were meant for each other and that our romance was nothing to joke about. I wasn't the only one who was antsy, though. All over the room kids were squirming in their seats.

  "Attention please!" said Wiggins. She was using her general's voice, which meant that she had noticed how antsy everyone was, and she had picked up a stack of green and white striped papers off of her desk.

  She cleared her throat. "All right, boys and girls. The moment has arrived for each of you to find out which boy and which girl in this class you have the most in common with. I will give you exactly five minutes to talk among yourselves and compare results. BUT," she raised her finger into the air like an exclamation point, "remember that these answers are completely confidential, and it is entirely up to you to decide whether you want to tell anyone who you matched up with."

  Everybody was squirming again. I looked at my four best friends, exchanging nervous looks with each one of them and thinking that a person would have to match up with someone pretty drippy to keep it a secret from everyone.

  Wiggins was walking up and down the rows handing out folded papers with names on the front of them. Twice she stopped near me, and both times I almost grabbed the paper out of her hand as it shot by me and went to someone sitting close by. I could hear kids giggling and whispering as more and more of them read their matchups. I was beginning to worry. Where was mine? Had my questionnaire gotten lost?

  Finally Wiggins handed me a folded paper with my name on it. I held my breath. What if I didn't get Randy's name? What if I got someone weird like Curtis Trowbridge or Clarence Marshall? My hands were shaking as I opened the paper. I squinted my eyes almost shut and looked out through the slits at the two names:

  BETH BARRY AND RANDY KIRWAN

  I nearly collapsed with relief. I had been right all along. I knew that Randy and I had a lot of things in common. Now the Romance Machine had proved it. And best of all, now everybody would know it.

  "Psst. Jana. Who did you get?"

  It was Beth. I didn't even try to control the smile that spread over my face. "You," I said, "and you know who." I nodded toward Randy. I didn't have the nerve to look at him yet. "Who did you get?"

  Instead of Beth, I heard another voice coming from the other side of me. "I got Randy Kirwan," gushed Alexis Duvall.

  "Me, too."

  "I got Randy's name."

  It was as if there were an echo in the room. A few girls, like Melanie, were saying other boys' names, but girls all over the room were saying that they got Randy Kirwan. I sat there in shock. How could a thing like that happen? There must be a mistake. I had Randy's name, and surely he had mine. I sneaked a look at him out of the corner of my eye. His face was as red as fire.

  "Hey, Jana. I got your name. Whose name did you get?"

  It was Curtis Trowbridge. I pretended that I hadn't heard him. It was bad enough that he got my name, but why did he have to say it out loud in front of the whole sixth grade?

  "Hey, Jana. I said that I got your name," said Curtis.

  Taffy Sinclair turned around and gave me an icy smile. I could tell she was glad that Curtis was making an idiot of me. "I got Randy Kirwan, too," she said.

  I felt hot all over. I wouldn't have been surprised if I had started breathing fire and smoke. How dare Taffy Sinclair say that she had Randy's name. She couldn't. Randy didn't care about her. He cared about me. Well, I would show her a thing or two. I'd show everybody.

  "Whose name did you get, Randy?" I challenged, still ignoring Curtis Trowbridge.

  "He probably got Jana Banana's name," said Joel Murphy. He was looking at me and laughing as if he thought getting my name was some kind of joke.

  "Yeah. Jana Banana," taunted Keith Masterson. "She's his girlfriend."

  Randy looked down at the paper in his hand. It was easy to see that he was still embarrassed, and I knew Taffy Sinclair had a lot to do with it. He started to say something, but then he stopped.

  Come on, I thought. Tell her. Tell everybody that you got my name.

  "Oh, come on, Randy," pleaded Beth. "Tell us who you got."

  There was a chorus of "Yeah," "Come on!" and "Tell us whose name you got."

  Kids were milling around talking and laughing and a few were whispering "Jana Banana." My ears were getting so hot that they felt as if they would melt any minute. Why didn't Randy just say whose name he got and get it over with?

  The room got quiet as Randy started folding his green and white striped paper. He did it slowly, and you could tell that he was thinking the situation over. He folded the paper into smaller and smaller squares until it was just about the size of a grape.

  Then he looked up and said in a quiet voice, "Miss Wiggins said that nobody has to tell." With that he stuffed the grape-size paper into the pocket of his jeans.

  "I'm not going to tell either," shouted Scott Daly.

  "Me, either," said Mark Peters. "If Randy won't tell, I'm not going to either."

  "I got Jana Morgan," offered Curtis.

  "Well, I'm not going to tell whose name I got," said Clarence Marshall. "Girls. Yuk!" He put his hands around his neck and faked throwing up. "Who needs them?"

  Suddenly every boy in the whole class, except Curtis Trowbridge and Randy, was shouting that he wasn't going to tell whose name he got in the girl matchup and faking throwing up like Clarence. And every girl in the class was glaring at me as if it were all my fault.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At that moment I felt as if a trap door had opened up under my feet and I had dropped into the pits. The dismal pits. I couldn't believe that Randy would let me down like that. But the looks on all the girls' faces had me convinced that I had more than just Randy Kirwan to worry about.

  Melanie dropped to one knee beside my desk. She was frowning and she said in a loud whisper, "Now look what you did, Jana. I may never find out if Scott got my name." I threw her a poison-dart look. "Don't blame me. I had nothing to do with it."

  "Oh, yeah? You had a date with Randy Saturday, didn't you? And you were the one Joel and Keith were teasing him about, aren't you?"

  "So?"

  "Figure it out," she said. "If they were teasing him about you after the date, just think how they would tease him if he got your name."

  I didn't answer. If Randy really liked me, it shouldn't matter if they teased him. Sixth-grade boys were always teasing somebody about something. It was a dumb conversation anyway. I couldn't see how anybody could think it was my fault that Randy Kirwan wouldn't tell whose name he got for the girl matchup. And I certainly didn't have anything to do with all the other boys deciding not to tell either. But that didn't stop the girls from being mad at me.

  Unfortunately, that was only part of my troubles. I didn't know it at first, but this whole computer matchup was going to turn into a disaster. It took Wiggins a while to restore order. In the meantime, I got some more news. None of it good.

  1. Not only had Taffy Sinclair gotten Randy's name, but nine out of fourteen girls in the sixth grade got him as their boy matchup, including Beth Barry. It was bad enough that he was so popular that practically everybody had a crush on him, but my best friend in the world! I couldn't believe it. She had always acted as if she didn't know that boys were on the face of the earth, and all along she had a secret crush on Randy.

  2. Melanie and Taffy Sinclair got each other's names. Melanie pretended to be mad, but I saw her watching Taffy out of the corner of her eye. Now that she was getting thin and a lot prettier, was she going to turn into someone stuck-up and snotty like Taffy Sinclair?

  3. Christie refused to speak to any of us for the rest of the day because no one in The Fabulous Five got her name. She said that proved that we all just pretended to be her friend because her mother is principal of our school. She said we thought that gave us special privileges, which is a big fat lie!

  4. Katie was mad, too. Even though she says that she doesn't like boys, she was upset when her boy matchup said "Computer error #14" and she read it out loud and the whole class laughed.

  5. And then there was good old Curtis Trowbridge. You can always count on him to make a bad thing worse. Why did he have to be the only boy who would tell who he matched up with? All afternoon he tore around yelling, "I got Jana Morgan! I got Jana Morgan!" to anyone who would listen.

  In fact, it turned out to be a terrible day, after all. In addition to all the girls being mad at me, practically everybody in the whole sixth grade was mad at everybody else. During afternoon recess lots of kids weren't going around with their regular friends. Christie stood all by herself near the swings and kept giving the rest of us poison-dart looks. I walked around with Melanie and Beth and Katie, but I made sure to stay as far away from Beth as I could. I couldn't forget that she was a traitor.

  If that was the dismal pits, then I don't know how to describe what happened next. We were still outside for recess, and I had noticed that Taffy Sinclair was with a group of girls that she doesn't usually go around with. Of course Mona Vaughn was there, but so was Alexis Duvall and Lisa Snow and Kim Baxter. It looked like a meeting of the Randy Kirwan fan club.

  Anyway, they were whispering and looking at me. Then suddenly they started giggling. I could feel my ears getting hot. I didn't know what they were giggling about, but I was sure that it was something pretty terrible and that it was about me.

  Taffy stopped giggling. Then she looked straight at me and said in a voice so loud that just about everybody on the playground could hear, "If Randy had Jana's name, he would have said so since he had a date with her." She paused for a minute to be dramatic and then gave me a wicked smile and said, "Obviously he has someone else's name."

  She might as well have added, "It must be mine," because from the tone of her voice you could tell that was what she meant.

  I thought I would explode. It was bad enough that she would say such a thing, but how could Alexis and Lisa and Kim be on her side? I looked around quickly to see if Randy had heard what she had said, but he was too far away. At least that much was going my way.

  The rest of the day I had trouble concentrating on what Wiggins was talking about in class. My mind was on Randy. He didn't look at me once. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn't help it. Even when I wasn't looking at him, I kept seeing him with that green and white striped printout in his hand saying that his matchup was a secret. Why would he do a thing like that to me? He had always been such a kind and sensitive person. Was Taffy right? Did Randy have someone else's name? Did he have hers?

  I could hardly wait to get home after school. I wanted to be alone so that I could do some more thinking and maybe figure everything out. But wouldn't you know it. Mom was there. She said that she had left work early because she was coming down with the flu. I had to admit that she looked terrible. She was on the sofa all bundled up in a blanket. Her nose was red and her eyes watery and her voice sounded scratchy.

 

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