Marshmallow Masquerade Page 2

  “There it is again!” Susan interjected, suddenly glancing up from the grilled cheese sandwich she’d been munching.

  The other three Pratts looked at her with surprise.

  “There’s what again?” her twin asked.

  Susan’s dark brown eyes were shining. “What Daddy just said. About his not being able to understand the female half of the population.”

  “Gee, Susan, I was only teasing.”

  “But that’s exactly what we were talking about last night! Chris and Beth and Holly and me. The fact that girls find it impossible to understand boys!”

  “Aha,” said Mr. Pratt. “Now I see. It works both ways, then.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Mrs. Pratt placed her coffee cup in its saucer and patted her husband’s arm affectionately. “I feel as if I understand you pretty well, and you’re a member of the opposite sex.”

  “That’s different,” Chris insisted.

  “Why is it different?” Mr. Pratt pretended to be offended. “I’m a boy, aren’t I? An old one, maybe, but a boy, nevertheless.”

  “Because,” Chris explained impatiently, “you two are married to each other. You’re supposed to understand each other by now!”

  Mrs. Pratt looked at her husband and smiled. “Let’s hear it for the institution of marriage.”

  “Hear, hear!” Mr. Pratt agreed with a grin.

  “We were talking about the boys we know at school,” Susan explained to her parents.

  “Complaining, you mean,” Chris said cheerfully. “Oh, Mom, I’m sure you know what we’re talking about. Teenage boys are just impossible to figure out! And the four of us were just fantasizing about how great it would be if we could ... well, spy on the boys we know, to find out what they’re like when there are no girls around. That way, maybe we’d be able to learn more about what makes them tick.”

  “My dears,” Mr. Pratt said, “the battle of the sexes has been going on since time began. I’m afraid we’re not about to solve it over lunch.” He gathered up his dishes and silverware, pushed back his chair, and stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got about ten thousand things to do this afternoon.” He deposited his dishes in the sink and was gone.

  “I’ve got a long day ahead of me, too.” Mrs. Pratt downed the rest of her coffee and then she, too, hurried away, anxious to get on with her afternoon.

  Chris and Susan lingered at the table. Unlike their parents, they were not in the mood to go rushing off on this crisp, sunny November Saturday. Their discussion of the night before, now revived, had put them both in a pensive mood. It was, in fact, almost as if a strange spell had been cast over them.

  “Maybe the ‘battle of the sexes’ has been going on since time began,” Chris grumbled. “But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with wanting to infiltrate behind enemy lines.”

  Susan reacted with indignation. “Christine Pratt, boys are not our enemies! And there’s certainly no ‘battle’ going on, either. I still maintain that boys and girls are basically the same. We want the same things; we have the same fears and self-doubts.... We just can’t be open and honest with each other all the time because, well, we’re all so convinced that boys and girls are entirely different!”

  Chris sighed. Toying with the last crust of her sandwich, she said, “Maybe you’re right, Sooz. But it sure doesn’t seem that way most of the time.”

  Suddenly her eyes began to twinkle. “Hey, that was pretty clever of Holly, wasn’t it? Comparing boys to marshmallows? Honestly, I don’t know how she comes up with these things!”

  “Hey, wait a minute. What about us?” Susan challenged her. “Don’t forget that you and I have been known to come up with some pretty outrageous ideas, too.”

  “Well, I just wish we could come up with an idea for a way to find out more about boys.”

  “You mean something like hiding in the boys’ locker room and eavesdropping?”

  Chris wrinkled her turned-up nose. “Not very original. Especially for two masters of disguise like us. I mean, last summer you managed to convince the entire town of Whittington that you were me!”

  “You’ve played your share of practical jokes, too, you know. And, I might add, with earth-shattering success.” Susan smiled, then became thoughtful. “It is a challenge, isn’t it? Coming up with some sort of scheme that would help us delve into the secret lives of boys.”

  “You make it sound so mysterious, Sooz!” Playfully Chris placed a strand of her chestnut-brown hair under her nose, like a mustache. Moving her eyebrows up and down comically, she said in a funny voice, “Vel-come to the see-cret vorld of boys!”

  She expected her sister to laugh. Or at least smile. Instead, Susan just stared at her.

  “Come on, Sooz. Where’s your sense of humor? You look like you’re a million miles away. Susan, are you there? Susan? Susan?”

  The faraway look remained in Susan’s eyes. And when she finally spoke, her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Chris, I just had the craziest, most fantastic, most outrageous idea of my entire life!”

  “Goodness! And to think my dumb imitation inspired it! As a matter of fact, I’m not even sure who—or what—I was imitating! I was just being silly!”

  “You were imitating a man.” Susan’s voice was still that same peculiar whisper. “A boy. You were pretending you were a boy.”

  “Well, yes, I guess so. But I still don’t see ...”

  Suddenly, Chris stopped. A chill had just run down her spine as she realized what her twin was getting at.

  “No. You’re not serious. Susan Pratt, you couldn’t be thinking what I think you’re thinking. You couldn’t be suggesting ...”

  “It’s the perfect plan, Chris!” Susan grabbed her sister’s arm. “Don’t you see? The best way to find out why boys are the way they are is to pretend to be one!”

  “But Sooz! It’s not that simple!”

  Susan, however, was not about to listen to any arguments. “You were just saying yourself, not two minutes ago, that what we girls need is for someone to ‘infiltrate behind enemy lines,’ right? Well, I didn’t agree with the words you used then—and I don’t agree now—but the point is the same. Chris, it’s the only way! And it’s so incredible that no one would ever suspect what we were doing!”

  “Susan Pratt, I know you’re my sister, but I must say that I think that this time, you’ve gone totally off your rocker!” Chris stood up and, with exaggerated movements, began clearing the table. “I mean, I’ve heard some crazy ideas in my life, but this one really takes the cake! You’re not really serious, of course. You didn’t believe, even for a second, that I’d ever actually agree to go along with something like that, did you?” She stopped fussing with the dishes and turned to face her twin. “Did you?”

  She could tell from the look on Susan’s face that that was exactly what she’d believed.

  “I’ve never known you to back away from a challenge before, Chris.”

  “Sooz, that’s not fair!”

  “Especially one that would be so helpful. Not only to you, but also to Holly and Beth ... and me, of course.” She was thinking of Michael Anderson, her latest crush. “Not to mention every other girl you know. Why, every other girl in America could benefit! Every girl in the world! You could write magazine articles, go on television.... Just think, Chris. You’d be the only teenage girl on the entire planet who knew—and I mean really knew—what it was like to be a teenage boy!”

  Chris was weakening; Susan could see it. She could feel a sense of triumph rising up from deep inside of her.

  Even more than that, she experienced the jubilation that came from embarking upon another Pratt twins’ hijinks.

  “Wait a second—let me get this straight.” Chris sat down at the table once again. “You think one of us should pretend to be a boy....”

  “Not ‘one of us.’ You. I think you’d be the best person to do it.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because you’re braver than I a
m. A better actor, too.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Chris couldn’t help feeling that her twin was buttering her up. At the same time, however, she was flattered. “Well ... anyway, you want one of us—me—to pretend to be some made-up boy....”

  “Let’s say a distant relative. A ... a cousin. Yes, that’s it. One of our cousins, who lives in some town that’s far away.”

  “Okay, So one of us would pretend to be this ... this boy cousin for a few days....”

  “Oh, more than that.” Susan sounded very matter-of-fact. “A week, let’s say. Yes, that would probably do it. I know: how about starting this Monday, and ending next Saturday? That way, you wouldn’t miss out on cheerleading at the Homecoming Game. And you could go to the Homecoming Dance that night as yourself.”

  Chris nodded. “Yes, that sounds reasonable.” Suddenly she almost jumped out of her chair. “Hey, wait a minute! Here I am, sounding as if I’m agreeing to go along with this far-out scheme....”

  “But of course you’ll go along with it.” Susan sounded so certain about the whole thing.

  Chris blinked. “I will?”

  “Of course you will. And do you know why?”

  “No. Why?”

  “First of all, because it’s a brilliant scheme. Second, because it’s the biggest challenge so far to your career as a prankster. Not to mention your career as ... how did you put it before? Oh, yes: ‘a master of disguise.’ And third, because the information you get about boys will be so valuable that you’ll be providing a great service to females everywhere.”

  “I’m still not sure, Sooz.”

  “Wait a minute. That’s because I haven’t told you the fourth reason yet.”

  “Oh, really? And what’s that?” Chris doubted that any one argument could possibly be strong enough to change her mind.

  Susan, on the other hand, seemed completely confident.

  “Because if you agree with my plan and pretend to be a boy for the next week, you’ll be able to find out what Scott Stevens really thinks about you.”

  Chris’s mouth dropped open. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Susan looked positively smug. “Now, I’ve already got the perfect name for this caper. Remember what Holly said last night, about boys being like marsh-mallows?”

  “Yes ...”

  “And you’re going to be masquerading as a boy, right? Let’s say our cousin Charlie.”

  “That is, if I agree to go along with this.” Chris stopped all of a sudden. “Hey, wait a minute! We don’t have a cousin Charlie!”

  “We do now! That is, if you agree.” Susan looked at her twin hopefully. “Do you agree, Chris? Are you willing to go along with this brilliant scheme of mine?”

  Chris thought for only a second. And then she broke out into a huge grin. “Okay, Sooz, You managed to convince me, after all. I may end up regretting this, but you’re right. I can’t resist!”

  “Fantastic! Well, then, we’re about to set the world on its ear with the greatest practical joke that anyone has ever played in the entire history of the world.” Susan’s cheeks were pink, and her eyes were bright. “Christine Pratt, you and I are about to embark on the Marshmallow Masquerade!”

  Chapter Three

  Since neither of the twins was the type to waste any time, Susan and Chris immediately set about their new, intriguing task: transforming Chris into someone else. And they had to do it so well that they would convince the world—or at least the students of Whittington High—that Chris was really the twins’ cousin.

  Charlie Pratt.

  A boy.

  Their first stop was the local shopping mall. After all, Susan reasoned, the very first stop in masquerading as a boy was looking like one.

  As much as they would have loved to browse in all their favorite shops, Chris and Susan bypassed all the boutiques that specialized in women’s clothes. Instead, they headed for a store that neither of them had ever been in before. With a name like The Men’s Den, they couldn’t help but think they had come to the right place.

  As soon as they ventured inside, the salesman who was straightening out a display of neckties near the store’s entrance noticed them. He hurried toward them. “Can I ... help you girls?”

  “Sure,” Chris said cheerfully. “I’m looking for—”

  “No, thank you,” Susan interrupted her. “We’re just browsing. We’re looking for, uh, a present for our cousin. Our boy cousin.”

  Satisfied with that explanation, the salesman moved on to a young man who was half-heartedly looking through a display of white shirts.

  “Chris, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Well, I just thought I’d explain that—”

  “Explain what? That you’re looking for the kind of outfit a boy might wear because you plan to spend the next week pretending to be one?”

  “You’ve got a point there,” Chris agreed lamely. “It does sound a bit incredible, doesn’t it?”

  “Just the teensiest bit!”

  The girls did a quick survey of The Men’s Den’s merchandise. Susan noticed some plaid flannel shirts folded on a table, and she headed over that way.

  Her twin, however, took quite a different tack.

  “Hey, look at these, Sooz! They’re kind of pretty!” Chris had zeroed in on a sale rack full of sweaters. They were all half-price ... and they were all pale colors: blue, beige, and two or three in pink. “I like these pink ones. I wonder what size I am in boys’ clothes....”

  “Christine Pratt! Put that sweater down immediately!” Susan demanded.

  “But why?”

  “Because it’s pink!”

  “But I like pink!” Chris blinked. She was surprised by her twin’s reaction. After all, she had simply picked out the sweater that she liked the best. It was even on sale.

  Susan’s next statement, however, put things back in perspective.

  “Pink is not for boys. It’s a female color. Why, I’ll bet that’s why that sweater’s on sale in the first place. You know, ‘pink is for girls; blue is for boys.’ It starts out from the day a baby is born!”

  Chris held on to the sweater possessively. “But why?”

  The two girls just stared at each other.

  “I don’t really know, Chris,” Susan finally admitted.

  “I mean, it doesn’t make any sense. You’re right, of course. Pink is a color that people associate with girls. But why is it that only girl babies wear it? Is there something wrong with boys wearing pink? Why on earth should it make any difference?”

  “And come to think of it,” Susan said thoughtfully, “it’s perfectly acceptable for girls to wear blue. But if a baby boy were ever dressed in pink, people would be flabbergasted!”

  Chris frowned. “I’m beginning to realize that the Marshmallow Masquerade is going to be even harder than I thought. I never really thought about it before, but there are a lot of ‘differences’ between boys and girls that are totally made-up. Like this business about the color pink. It makes absolutely no sense at all ... yet everybody just accepts it as law…”

  “I know. It is silly, isn’t it? But I’m afraid that as long as you’re trying to convince the world that you’re really Charlie Pratt, we’d better stick to those dumb rules, whether we like them or not.”

  With a shrug, Chris put the pink sweater back on the rack. “Well, okay. But for the rest of my life, every time I put on something pink, I’m going to be reminded of the fact that it’s okay for girls to wear clothes that people associate with boys—things like sneakers and plaid flannel shirts and jeans and even the color blue—but if boys ever try wearing ‘girl’ things, people laugh at them! Everyone accepts the fact that girls are allowed to try being more like boys, but there’s something funny about the idea of boys trying to be more like girls!”

  After browsing around the store for a few more minutes, the girls picked out some clothes that looked as if they’d fit Chris while still being loose enough to hide her curves. Everythin
g they chose was dark, boxy, and basically nondescript.

  “Do you know what I’m starting to realize, Sooz?” Chris mused once they’d decided on their purchases.

  “No, what?”

  “Boys’ clothes are boring! Everything comes in either brown, gray, or blue; all the shirts are cut exactly the same.... Why, they hardly get any chance at all to express their individuality through the clothes they wear! Not to mention the fact that they’re not supposed to wear clothes like pink or yellow or lavender....”

  “Or even fabrics with flowers or polka dots or even checks on them!” Susan added.

  “Well, there is one good thing about boys’ clothes,” Chris commented a few minutes later as the twins left The Men’s Den, armed with several packages.

  Susan turned to look at her sister. “What’s that?”

  “They’re all so comfortable! No high-heeled shoes that make it impossible to walk. No tight jeans or skirts with tight waistbands that are supposed to make you look slimmer but make it hard to breathe. No itchy lace around the collar or pantyhose that are always slipping down....

  “And no make-up to worry about, either.” Chris continued. “Imagine going through an entire date without having to worry about whether your mascara has made it look like you’ve got two black eyes! Or whether you’ve rubbed off your eyeshadow so that you’ve got one eyelid that’s blue and one that’s not!”

  “You know, you’re right!” Susan laughed. “When you think about it, the things that girls have to do to be considered ‘dressed up’ or ‘nice-looking’ are a lot different from what boys do to get the same effect.”

  “Next time I go to a fancy party,” Chris teased, “I think I’ll wear a man’s suit. Forget the shoes that hurt and the short skirts you’re constantly pulling down over your knees!”

  “The only thing I wouldn’t want to wear is a necktie.” Susan wrinkled her nose. “Not only do they look horribly uncomfortable; they serve absolutely no function at all!”

  Suddenly, she grew serious. “You know, Sooz, this Marshmallow Masquerade of ours is turning out to be more educational than I ever dreamed possible. And I haven’t even started pretending to be Charlie yet!”