Caroline Cala - The Good, the Bad and the Bossy (Best Babysitters Ever)

Dot knew one thing for sure: she did not like this Pigeon person. It wasn’t just her ridiculous first name, although that probably didn’t help. It was – Dot couldn’t believe what she was thinking, was she turning into her mother? – her aura.

Pigeon had very bad energy.

You’re being ridiculous , Dot thought. You don’t even know her. It’s her first day at a new school and she’s just trying to be impressive to make friends.

Still, this felt like that moment in a movie, where the main character meets her nemesis. Dot wanted to remain open and kind. She wanted to know her story. But she was, Dot hated to admit, experiencing a feeling she had never felt before. She was intrigued. She was jealous. She was conflicted. For perhaps the first time ever, she was seriously intimidated.

Maliawatched as Connor Kelly sauntered across the cafeteria, blue plastic lunch tray in hand. He gave her a slight nod and then sat down with the other boys on the soccer team. Malia sighed. He was so close and yet so far away.

Malia remembered a time, not too long ago, when she and Connor barely exchanged words. Back then, she sometimes wondered if he even knew her name. Now he said at least three sentences to her each week. That, Malia thought, was progress.

Still, so much about Connor remained a mystery. He was like some exotic endangered species Malia could only observe from a safe distance. Across rooms . . . on social media . . . but rarely up close and personal. But now she had places to run into Connor – like the cafeteria, or the Gregory house, or, if everything went according to plan, the Veronica concert.

She had spent all of her waking moments (and also some of her sleeping ones) dreaming for the past three days about the concert and how it might go. The darkness, the neon lights, the fog, the music, the dancing. Malia shivered. The thought of dancing in Connor Kelly’s proximity was almost too much to handle.

But of course, before that could happen, she had to buy the tickets. Malia had lined up jobs like crazy, posting on social media to drum up some new clients. Plus, Bree’s mom agreed to let her babysit her brother, Bailey, three days a week, and Mrs Gregory had booked Malia for three upcoming jobs, which meant money and a potential Connor sighting in one.

Shoko and Mo arrived at the table, placing their trays down with a clatter. Shoko and Mo were pretty much inseparable, and they always sat at the same lunch table as Malia and Bree. Malia snapped out of her daydream.

“What are you wearing to the concert?” asked Mo urgently. The entire school had caught Veronica fever. The concert was all anybody could talk about.

“I don’t know,” said Malia, though she had, of course, been obsessing about this very topic for days. Maybe if they had any money left over from buying the ticket, she could get a new outfit. “What are you guys wearing?”

“Ugh, who knows? It’s such an event. We’re going shopping this weekend!” said Shoko, waving her hands around as if she found this stressful. Her parents gave her a seemingly unlimited allowance to spend on things like concert wear. Malia wondered, as she often had, what that must be like.

“Hiiiii,” said Bree, suddenly appearing with her lunch. She put her tray down and pulled up a seat next to Malia.

Bree removed her studded jean jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. Malia noticed that she had tiny little scratches all over her arms.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” said Malia, with genuine concern.

“Oh, just Veronica.” Bree sighed. “There was an incident this morning, involving glitter eyeliner and a very violent feline outburst. That cat’s claws are no joke.”

“Wow. I’m . . . sorry to hear that,” Malia said.

“It’s okay,” said Bree with a shrug. “I mean, it’s actually not okay. But I’m fine.”

Dot approached the lunch table and put her tray down next to Malia’s.

“Can I sit with you guys?” she asked.

This was an irregular occurrence. For as long as Malia could remember, Dot had always sat at a different lunch table, with the honours students who thought they were a little bit smarter than everyone else. Malia had learned not to take it personally, as lunchtime politics were complicated.

“What? You’re deigning to sit with the non-honours students?” Malia teased. “At LUNCH? What is going on here?”

Dot rolled her eyes. “This annoying new girl is sitting at my table, and I just . . . can’t.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Malia said, “Because we were just talking about gearing up for the Veronica concert and I have booked all the jobs in the land.”

Dot took a deep breath.

“Okay. To be clear, I still need time to focus on homework right now. Not to mention the science fair.” She paused before adding, “And for the last time, I do not like Veronica.”

“To each her own,” said Malia. “But I, for one, will babysit every second I can until we are all sitting front row at that concert.”

And she meant every word.

Malia arrived home floating on a cloud. She had taken to listening to Veronica on her way to and from anywhere, as she found it inspired her to make her dreams a reality.

“I saw your face on my phone. You just won’t leave me alone,” sang Veronica. Of course, this made Malia think of Connor. “Social me-me-me-me-media. But everything’s about you.”

Malia felt so joyful that she almost didn’t mind when she bumped into her sister, Chelsea, the seventeen-year-old human equivalent of an evil snake, making her way through the front hallway.

“Why, if it isn’t the smaller version of me!” said Chelsea. This was her idea of the ultimate compliment. It was also a stark contrast from the usual insults Chelsea flung Malia’s way.

Immediately, Malia was suspicious.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“The real question is: what do YOU want? What do you want, little sister, from your life?”

Yes, Chelsea was up to something. But really, Chelsea was always up to something. Previously, she had formed a rival babysitting business and attempted to put Malia and her friends out of business. Who knew what sort of terrible scheme she was devising now.

“Right now, all I want is to go to my room,” Malia said, then added, “where you aren’t allowed.”

Malia’s eyes landed on the large framed family portrait that hung near the front door. The entire family – Mom, Dad, Chelsea, and Malia stood dressed in white and beaming for the camera. It looked so happy, and so misleading. Malia could barely remember another time when she had been in Chelsea’s presence and made that same expression.

“Oh, Malia. When I was your age, I was so ambitious. I was already mapping out my future. I think it’s about time you started to do the same.”

Malia tried to go around her, but Chelsea blocked her path.

“MOM!” Malia yelled, which was the easiest way she could think of to make this situation stop.

“Yes?” called their mother. Moments later she appeared, with a celery stalk in her hand.

“Chelsea is harassing me about my future again,” said Malia.

“That is an unfair assessment. I was just trying to offer Malia a chance to follow in my unusually accomplished footsteps.”

“I can make my own footsteps!” Malia protested.

“By joining our team at Abernathy Inc.” Chelsea paused, waiting for a reaction.

“Wait, what?” asked Malia. This was news to her.