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

First published in USA 2019 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company

First published in Great Britain 2019 by Egmont UK Limited,

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Published by arrangement with Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company,

3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016

Text copyright © 2019 Alloy Entertainment, LLC

Cover illustration © 2019 Sarah Hoyle

First e-book edition 2019

ISBN 978 1 4052 8815 6

Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1821 9

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record of this title is available from the British Library

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CHAPTER ONE: MALIA

CHAPTER TWO: BREE

CHAPTER THREE: Dot

CHAPTER FOUR: MALIA

CHAPTER FIVE: BREE

CHAPTER SIX: MALIA

CHAPTER SEVEN: Dot

CHAPTER EIGHT: MALIA

CHAPTER NINE: Dot

CHAPTER TEN: BREE

CHAPTER ELEVEN: MALIA

CHAPTER TWELVE: Bree

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MALIA

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Dot

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: MALIA

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: BREE

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Dot

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: MALIA

CHAPTER NINETEEN: BREE

CHAPTER TWENTY: MALIA

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: Dot

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: MALIA

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: BREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Dot

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: MALIA

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Dot

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: BREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: MALIA

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Dot

CHAPTER THIRTY: MALIA

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: Dot

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Bree

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: MALIA

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: Bree

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: Dot

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: MALIA

Sometimes,if she tried really hard, Malia Twiggs could remember a time when she thought boogers were gross. It’s not that she currently liked boogers – she hadn’t got an entirely new personality or anything – but in the months since starting her own babysitting club, she had definitely learned to make peace with them. It was amazing, really, the limitless boundaries of personal growth.

“Don’t worry about a thing!” Malia yelled, waving across the yard to her best friends and fellow babysitters, Bree Robinson and Dot Marino. “I’ve got this situation under control.”

The situation at hand was a crying Jonah Gregory, their four-year-old babysitting charge who had just tripped while chasing a butterfly. The damage seemed to be two skinned knees and a lot of tears but, thankfully, nothing else.

Bree offered a little salute and Dot nodded before they turned their attention back to the other three Gregory children.

Malia calmly guided Jonah across the yard and into the house. As a now-experienced babysitter, she knew exactly how to clean and bandage his scraped knees, tell a goofy joke to put an end to the tears, and, yes, do away with his crying-induced snot.

“BUT IT HUWTS!” yelled Jonah, who could not yet pronounce the r sound.

“I know it hurts, but look how brave you are,” Malia said, expertly applying a Band-Aid emblazoned with smiling cartoon rabbits. “And now that you’re all patched up, I have a surprise for you.”

Jonah continued to pout.

“You get to have ice cream!”

At the mention of a frozen treat, Jonah’s small, chubby face visibly brightened.

Babysitting had taught Malia many things, including how easily little children could be bribed with snacks, how willing they were to believe whatever an older person told them, and, last but certainly not least, how nice it was to buy things with your own money. But on a deeper level, babysitting had shown her what it meant to transform. One day, you could be a regular seventh-grader with no crisis management skills whatsoever, and then, before you knew it, there you were: herding four children around a home, all while making grilled cheeses, breaking up a fight, and negotiating nap time like it was nothing. For Malia (who, before the club, had always struggled with school and sports and every activity known to man), being good at something felt really, really nice.

Malia and Jonah made their way back to the yard.

“What? How come you get ice cream?” yelled eight-year-old Fawn, the oldest Gregory child, upon seeing Jonah’s chocolate-dipped cone. She angrily crossed her arms.

“YEAH!” echoed Plum and Piper, the six-year-old Gregory twins. “Not fair!”

“Don’t worry, I brought enough for everyone,” said Malia, holding the box aloft.

“Not so fast. Everyone has to sit down before they can have some,” said Bree with authority. As one of five siblings, Bree was an expert at dealing with little kids and generally navigating chaos. Immediately, everyone sat, and Dot distributed the cones.

Malia also remembered a time – around the same point when boogers were enough to trigger a meltdown – when a gig like this would have driven her and her friends over the edge. But now they could watch four children and actually enjoy doing it.

As the small ones devoured their ice cream, Malia craned her neck to peer over the chain-link fence, trying to catch a glimpse of the neighbours. The house next door was small and blue, with a grey-shingled roof and some spindly evergreen trees dotting the back yard. To almost anyone, it looked like a regular old house. But to Malia, it was a place of endless wonder.

It wasn’t the home itself that was magical, but the people who lived there, particularly one Connor Kelly (aka the only boy worth loving). That house was the place where he woke up each morning and played video games and ate waffles. Connor’s jeans – the very same jeans he casually stuck his hands in the pockets of – were somewhere inside, along with his backpack and his T-shirts and his bike and his toothbrush. The toothbrush that touched his beautiful smile. Malia shivered. It was almost too much to handle.

“Any sightings?” asked Dot.

“Not yet,” said Malia. But there was still hope.

For years, Malia had watched Connor float through the halls of Playa del Mar’s public school system the same way her older sister watched the shoe sales at the local mall – with a laser focus. But now, thanks to the Gregory gig, the unthinkable had happened: Malia could observe him in his natural habitat. That is, if he ever came outside.