Rachel's Valentine Crush Read Online Free PDF Page B

Nellie,” she said. “Now you can do even more scrapbooking.”
    â€œAnd so can you!” Grandma Nellie replied as she pulled out a blank scrapbook for Rachel. “You should give it a try, peach pie. You’re so creative and talented, and it’s a really fun way to express yourself.”
    Rachel glanced into the cupboard again. Part of her was definitely drawn to the colorful supplies—but part of her resisted. If her dad saw her working on an art project with stamps and glitter glue, he would definitely not think she was mature. “Doesn’t it seem . . . kind of like kid stuff?” Rachel asked, without thinking about how that sounded.
    Grandma Nellie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Kid stuff? Do I look like a kid to you?” she asked.
    Rachel smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Grandma Nellie.”
    â€œI’m just teasing you, sweetheart,” Grandma Nellie replied. “I only wish I had started when I was your age. I think scrapbooking is a really great way of capturing your memories . . . and even figuring out your feelings. You see these lined pages?” She scanned the cupboard and pulled out some pretty pink pages with lines on them, sort of like fancy notebook paper. “You can use these special sheets of paper to write down stories or memories and then paste them down in the scrapbook. That’s not something a little kid could do, now, is it?”
    Grandma Nellie pulled a few more items from the cupboard and piled them on top of the blank scrapbook: a purple gel pen, a jar of purple glitter, and a small bottle of clear glue. “Why don’t you take these back to your room?” she said. “Just in case inspiration strikes. If you don’t end up using them, you can always just put them back. No pressure . . . but I think you’ll find that you really like it if you give it a try.”
    â€œOkay.” Rachel gave in. “Thanks, Grandma Nellie.”
    â€œIf you get hungry, I made peanut-butter bars,”Grandma Nellie told her. “But I can’t guarantee that they’ll last until dinner. Robbie is a fiend for peanut butter.”
    â€œDon’t I know it,” Rachel agreed.
    She carried the supplies back to her room and put them on her desk. Next, Rachel cued up “Secret Crush.” It was just as good as she remembered.
    Rachel twirled the gel pen in her fingers for a moment, deep in thought. Then she rummaged around in the secret inside pocket of her backpack. Her fingers closed around a crinkly piece of cellophane. After spending months in her backpack, the printing on the label was completely worn off. Rachel knew it was silly to keep an old lollipop wrapper—let alone carry it around in her backpack. But it was special to her, and she never wanted to get rid of it.
    Rachel smoothed the wrapper out on her desk. She chose a fresh sheet of pink lined paper from the top of the pile and paused for only a moment before she started writing. She had a really important memory she wanted to get down on paper.
    It started out like a regular choir practice—we warmed up while Mr. Jenkins played some scales, and then we started singing hymns. Itwas early April, just a few weeks before Brody left for SingNation!
    When practice ended, Mr. Jenkins had this giant smile on his face when he brought out the lollipops. The lollipops are a thing that Mr. Jenkins does after every practice. They’re made for singers and actors and people who use their voices a lot. They really do soothe my throat after I’ve been singing for a couple hours, and the green ones taste ah-maaaaazing Way better than the red ones or the orange ones (gross!). I always try to grab a green one, but Mr. Jenkins says, “No digging around for your favorite color,” so I have to be fast. And this time I accidentally picked a red one. It wasn’t the end of the world—I mean, at least it wasn’t