Ann Martin: Stacey's Broken Heart

Mary Anne came innext.Mary Anne did a double-take, looking at Abby casually, looking away, and then swinging back around, her brown eyes wide. We all laughed, except Kristy. "Oh," Mary Anne gasped. "I expected to see Kristy there."

"I'm in the president's chair today," Abby

said enthusiastically. I stole a peek at Kristy from the corner of my eye. Her lips were pressed together tightly and she looked pretty unhappy.

As the other members drifted in, my mind wandered. I started worrying about Robert again. He hadn't called me at all yesterday. This morning, I called him. And now I wasn't sure I believed what he'd had to say about where he was yesterday. He said he'd gone to the Stoneybrook Community Center courts to play one-on-one with Marty Bukowski. "I couldn't pass up a chance to play with the Bukeman," Robert said. "The Bukeman" is what they call Marty, who is the star basketball player at SMS.

"Why didn't you use the school courts, like always?" I asked.

"The Bukeman wanted to use the community center courts."

I was suspicious for two reasons. One, his note had said he would be playing with some guys, plural, more than one guy. And second, Robert doesn't usually hang out with Marty Bukowski. They know one another, but they're not good friends.

Other than that, the explanation made sense. Maybe I was being too suspicious.

By 5:29 everyone had arrived but Jessi and

Mallory. "I'm here! I'm here!" Jessi cried as she slid into the room like a baseball player sliding into home plate.

Abby leaned over the side of her chair and caught Jessi in a withering glare. Not only were her eyes narrowed, but her lip was lifted in a sneer. Jessi swallowed hard and cringed. "I'm giving you the Look," Abby said in a spooky voice. Curling her fingers into witch-like claws, she stretched them toward Jessi. "This look will frighten you so badly you will never be late for this or anything else again as long as you live!"

Jessi began to suspect that Abby was goofing on Kristy. She was still wary, though. "I'm not really late," she said, nodding toward the digital clock.

Abby relaxed her creepy posture and smiled. "In that case, forget it. I just thought I was supposed to give you that look from the crypt to scare you when you're late. I thought it was part of the job description."

"Not funny," I heard Kristy mumble under her breath as she folded her arms tightly.

"I was with Mallory," Jessi explained. "We were walking Pow." Pow is the Pikes' basset hound. "We didn't realize how late it was, but when we did, I ran straight here. Mal had to bring Pow home, but she's on her way."

As Jessi spoke, Mallory came racing into the

room. Immediately she checked the clock. It read 5:32. "Sorry! Sorry!" Mallory apologized to Kristy.

Kristy opened her mouth to say something, but Abby cut her off. "No problem, Mallory. This is your lucky day because I'm the president today and I'm not a maniac about punctuality. .Two, three minutes, give or take, is cool with me."

Mallory smiled and sighed with relief as she sat on the floor beside Jessi. "Whew! Great!"

From the frown on her face, I suspected Kristy was just dying to say something to Mallory about her lateness, but she kept her downturned lips squeezed together and silently fumed.

"All right, we're all here." Abby began the meeting. "Any new business?"

"Good. I have some," she continued without a pause. "As you all know, today you are going to vote on whether or not you think I would make a good fill-in president while Kristy is vacationing in sunny Hawaii. So, I'd like to tell you some of the things you could expect with me as president."

"We won't have to be super on-time?" Mallory guessed.

"Right," said Abby. "You can't stroll in fifteen minutes late, but a minute or two or even five isn't a tragedy. Also, you won't have to

write in the dub notebook unless you have something important to say or unless you just feel like it."

"Great,” Claudia said quietly. She hates writing in the club notebook.

"What?" Kristy yelped indignantly.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see the point of being forced to write when you don't have anything particularly interesting to say,” Abby explained, defending her position. "Having to write about every single job, no matter how dull it was, is a waste of time in my opinion."

"If everyone just wrote when they felt like it, nothing would get written at all," Kristy objected.

"I'd write," Mallory said.

"That's because you like to write," Kristy shot back. "Not everyone does."

"Isn't this supposed to be fun?" Abby said. "Shouldn't we be allowed to do the things welike?"

"It's fun, but it's also a business," Kristy said hotly.

"I think we can run smoothly and still have fun," Abby said calmly. She straightened in the chair, facing forward. "Another change I intend to make is I'll cut dues to every other week rather than every week."

This announcement was met with a round of cheering.

"You can't do that!" Kristy cried.

"If I'm president I can," Abby replied. "And think about this. With less notebook writing, we'll need fewer notebooks. And, as long as you're away, we won't have to pay Charlie to drive you. I'll ride my bike here. I'm streamlining the organization, cutting the budget, and eliminating unnecessary paperwork. It's the way business is run today. My mother told me that's what they're doing in her publishing company."

For maybe the first time ever, Kristy was speechless. Amazing! Abby had out-talked her.

Abby addressed the rest of us. "No dues. It will certainly make my job as alternate treasurer a lot easier."

I wasn't sure how I felt about this. The treasury wouldn't miss the dues — much. And I wouldn't be here for most of Abby's short presidency, anyway.

But there was something about Abby's campaign speech that was unsettling. It didn't sound like she was campaigning for just one week. A person who was just filling in didn't propose sweeping changes. Yet the things she said made sense to me. We'd gotten so used to Kristy's strict rules that we took them for granted. But perhaps there was an easier way, a less rigid approach to conducting business.

From the pleased looks on everyone else's face (except Kristy's), it seemed to make sense to them, too.

"And another thing," Abby went on, but the ringing phone cut her off.

I was closest to the phone, so I scooped it up. "Hello. Baby-sitters Club," I said.

"Is Stacey there?" asked a familiar voice I couldn't place. It was a girl's voice. Definitely not a client.

"This is she," I said cautiously. Only clients usually call during this time.

"Hi, it's Emily Bernstein," the caller said. Now I knew her voice. Emily is a student at SMS whom most of us are friendly with. She's the editor of the school paper and very nice. "I'm sorry to call you here. I know it's club time. But I didn't have your home phone number and I really need to talk to you,”

"That's all right, but I can't stay on long," I told her. "Just a sec." Everyone was staring at me for an explanation. I cupped the phone. "Emily Bernstein," I whispered.

"Make it quick," Kristy said. "You're tying up the phone."

"What's up, Emily?" I asked.

For a moment, she didn't reply. I thought maybe she'd put the phone down and walked away. Then she spoke in a nervous, uncertain voice. "I don't know if I should even be telling