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pajamas, reading the questionnaires.
    “I’m the biggest loser in school!” Mads wailed. “Have you read these things? Everybody’s so experienced! Even the ninth-graders. How did I miss out on this?”
    Holly pulled up a chair and sat beside Mads. “You think all these kids are telling the truth? Do you really think three boys in our school have dated
Playboy
centerfolds?”
    “I guess that is a little far-fetched,” Mads said. “But why would they lie? It’s anonymous. Even though I think I can figure out who some of them are by their answers.”
    “Maybe that’s why,” Holly said. “Is Lina coming over?”
    “Sylvia took her into the city for shopping and lunch.” Mads said. Sylvia was Lina’s mother. She was a doctor—an allergist—very smart, elegant, and a little chilly. Lina was intimidated by her. She felt closer to her dad, Kenneth, a tall, handsome banker.
    “She’ll probably come back with another fancy bag to dump in her closet,” Holly said. Lina’s mother was always buying Lina designer clothes, trying to dress her up.
    “It’s good that she’s not here,” Mads said. “Now is the perfect time to match her up with somebody. We’ve got to get her mind off Dan. She’s starting to go all Romeo and Juliet on us. And they both die in the end, you know.”
    “I’m sure this isn’t fatal, but I know what you mean,” Holly said. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s almost like he’s brainwashed her or something. Except Dan’s too goody-goody to do that.”
    Holly scanned through the questionnaires and stopped on a junior named “hot-t.” “What do you think of this guy for Lina?” she asked Mads.
    Mads read it over. “He doesn’t sound offensive, at least. But check out this guy.” She showed Holly a form by another junior, “striker.”
    Striker’s interests were “soccer, soccer, soccer.”
    “Striker” was probably a reference to a position on the soccer field.
    “I think I know who this is,” Holly said. “Jake Soros!”
    “Really? Yeah, that kind of makes sense.”
    Jake Soros, a junior, captain and star of the soccer team. He lived and breathed soccer. Holly suddenly realized that she’d had a crush on him for a long time.
    “I want that one for myself,” Holly said.
    Mads grinned. “Okay. You take striker and we’ll sic hot-t on Lina. Cross your fingers that she likes him.”
    “Now we have to find someone for you,” Holly said. “Mads, look at this.” She reached around Mads and pulled up paco’s form. “You’re going to have a stroke.” Paco’s questionnaire appeared on the screen. “He’s totally crazy about you.”
    Mads read paco’s questionnaire carefully. “Who do you think it is?” she asked.
    “I have no idea,” Holly said.
    “Well, one thing’s for sure,” Mads said. “It’s not Sean. Sean’s a senior, and paco says he’s in eleventh grade.”
    “So what? You’re too good to date juniors now?”
    “It’s not that,” Mads said. “It’s just that I want Sean. Do you think he submitted a questionnaire?”
    Holly shrugged. “How could we tell?”
    “I’ll figure it out,” Mads said. “If his questionnaire is here, I’ll find it.”
    “But what about paco?” Holly said. “He’s in love with you!”
    “That’s got to be a joke,” Mads said. “Wouldn’t I know if somebody was in love with me?”
    “Maybe he’s shy.”
    “Forget it. Hey, wait a minute. Isn’t ‘Sean’ the same name as ‘John,’ only Irish? Here’s a senior, code name john,’ who says he looks like Ashton Kutcher except with blond hair!” Sean kind of looks like Ashton Kutcher with blond hair!”
    Sean didn’t look much like Ashton Kutcher, but Holly had to admit that nobody at school looked more like him than Sean.
    “Look—he says he wants us to match him with somebody,” Mads said. “I volunteer. Let’s match him with me!”
    “What if it isn’t Sean?” Holly asked.
    “It’s got to be Sean! I’m going to e-mail him right