The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares Page A

record store that shared a parking lot with Wallman's. It was a whole four stores over, past a Burger King, a pizza place, and Calling All Pets, so running into him wasn't a definite. But it was highly likely. It had happened once already.
    Some people go out of their way to run into their crushes. Tibby did everything she could to avoid it. Mostly, she'd observed, Tucker parked in the back of the strip mall. So she always made it a point to park her bike in the front. And it seemed to work okay. Except for now, in this ice cream shop, which happened to be on the other side of Calling All Pets. Tibby silently berated herself for such bad planning.
    Tucker was wearing a slight scowl and a squinty face that made him look like he'd only just gotten out of bed. He was probably hanging at the Nine Thirty Club all night while she was resting up for her next shift at Wallman's. She seriously hoped he would think that Bailey was her little sister and not her new best friend.
    â€œWhy are you holding your face like that?”
    Tibby glared at Bailey. “What do you mean?”
    â€œYou know, with your cheeks all sucked in.” Bailey did an exaggerated imitation.
    Tibby felt her face warm. “I wasn't.” When had Tibby started lying? She prided herself on being direct—with herself especially. But Bailey was far more ruthlessly direct than even Tibby, and it was causing Tibby to hide and shrink, just what Tibby accused other people of doing.
    Bailey wasn't done yet. Her eagle eyes scanned the front of the store. “Do you like him?”
    Tibby was about to pretend she didn't know who Bailey was talking about, but she stopped herself. “He's okay,” Tibby agreed uncomfortably.
    â€œYou think?” Bailey looked unconvinced. “What do you like about him?”
    â€œWhat do I like about him?” Tibby was annoyed. “Look at him.”
    Bailey stared at him baldly. Tibby felt embarrassed, even though she hated the whole giggly “Don't let him see you're looking at him” routine.
    â€œI think he looks stupid,” Bailey announced.
    Tibby rolled her eyes. “You do, do you?”
    â€œDoes he really think those earrings are cool? And, I mean, look at his hair. How much gel went into that hair?”
    Tibby had never considered that Tucker actually spent time trying to make himself look like he looked. It was true that the height of his hair looked less than accidental. Even so, she didn't feel like admitting that to Bailey.
    â€œUm, no offense, Bailey, but you're twelve. You haven't even hit puberty yet. Please forgive me if I don't accept your expert testimony about guys,” Tibby said snottily.
    â€œNo offense taken,” Bailey said, obviously enjoying herself. “I'll tell you what. I'll find a worthwhile guy sometime, and you tell me if you don't agree.”
    â€œFine,” Tibby said, sure she wouldn't be spending enough time with Bailey to give her the chance to identify that worthwhile guy.
    â€œUh-oh.” Diana looked up from her book. “Bee has on her pirate face.”
    â€œI do not,” Bridget protested, though she completely did.
    Ollie was sitting cross-legged on her bed. A lot of girls in the cabin had already put on their nightshirts and stuff. “You want to raid the coaches' cabin?” Ollie asked.
    Bridget raised her eyebrows in interest. “Actually, that sounds nice, but that's not what I was thinking.”
    â€œWhat were you thinking?” Diana asked like a know-it-all.
    â€œTwo words. Hotel Hacienda.” It was the one bar in all of Mulegé, the place where she'd heard the coaches went at night.
    â€œI don't think we're supposed to,” Emily said.
    â€œWhy not?” Bridget demanded. “Ollie is seventeen. Sarah Snell is eighteen. Practically half the people here are going to college in the fall.” She wasn't one of them, but she didn't feel the need to mention it. “This isn't Camp Kitchee