Ann Martin - Stacey And The Cheerleaders

Now that you know I have a life outside of boys, let's move on to the next subject, which is ... well, boys. Or, the lack of them in my life.

Have you ever heard the song "Lucky in Love"? It was not written about me. If my love life were a bottle, it would be empty. If it were a place, it would be theSaharaDesert . OrDeath Valley .

Okay, I'm exaggerating. But not by much. Let's face it, I may not be boy-crazy, but I'm boy-interested. I mean, it wouldn't take a lot to make me happy. Just a gorgeous, smart, considerate guy who takes my breath away and happens to love me even more than I love him.

Is that asking too much?

One time I did fall in LUV. Head over heels. He was gorgeous, smart, and considerate. One catch: he was also twenty-two and my substitute math teacher. I thought he was in love with me, but he told me (politely) that I was wrong. It was beyond humiliating. I felt about two inches tall.

Yes, I am interested in boys my own age. I've dated a few SMS guys, but nothing has ever clicked. Sometimes I go out with Pete Black or Austin Bentley, but they're just friends. In other words, plenty of LIKE but no LUV.

My one steady boyfriend was Sam Thomas. We lasted a long time, but we kind of drifted apart and agreed to see other people.

As of that snowy Wednesday morning in December, I was still waiting for the other people.

That snowball may have changed everything. At least I hoped so. RJ was cute. Not gorgeous, but nice to look at. He had curly red hair and hazel eyes and broad shoulders.

Through him, I hoped I'd have a chance to meet some of his teammates and cheerleader friends. I didn't know any of them, but I wanted to. They were definitely the coolest and most popular kids at SMS. The guys were

Major Hunks and incredible athletes (not to mention tall, which I find very cool). Every single one of the girls was stunning and talented. Plus you would not believe the amazing clothes they wore. I'd been dying to ask some of them where they bought their outfits. Not anyplace I'd ever been (including all the boutiques I'd been to inNew York ).

So I was in a pretty good mood that day, even though I was late for homeroom. I tried to sneak in quietly, but it didn't work. Sheila McGregor, one of the cheerleaders I'd seen outside, began giggling when she saw my books. I looked down to see they were dripping with melted snow.

Our teacher, Ms. Levine, raised her eyebrows. "Stacey McGill? Late? What a novel concept." (She talks like that.)

I slunk into my seat. "Sorry."

Ms. Levine harrumphed, then continued making her morning announcements. A minute or two later I felt something poke me on the right side of my back. I moved over a little. Sheila sits behind me, and I figured something on her desk had slipped.

Another poke. I began to turn around. I saw Sheila's hand by my elbow, with a note in it. The note was folded neatly into a triangle. I took it, opened it, and read it:

PS

It wasn't an accident He, never misses.'

I couldn't help blushing. Quickly I turned and smiled at Sheila, who smiled back.

Ms. Levine didn't notice. Thank goodness.

After homeroom, Sheila and I walked down the hall together. She gave me this huge grin. "So ... did he ask you out?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Lucky," she said. "Maybe you guys and Marty and I can go out together sometime."

"You and Marty?"

She showed me a ring with a jewel in it. "We go steady. Isn't this beautiful?"

It was. I had never, ever seen a ring like that on an eighth-grade girl. "Wow."

We said good-bye at the next corner. Sheila's class was in the opposite direction from mine. I watched her for a moment as she walked away. Her hair was so silky and thick, and her clothes showed off her perfect figure. I

could see guys staring as she passed them, as if she were a movie star.

Of course she had no trouble finding a boyfriend. If she broke up with Marty, she could probably pick from a waiting list.

Must be nice, I thought.

At lunchtime, I sat with my BSC friends. (BSC, by the way, stands for Baby-sitters Club.) We were just yacking away, until I told them about RJ.

You could practically hear their jaws clanking to the ground.

"He asked you out!" Kristy Thomas asked the question around a mouthful of Swedish meatball.

"Say it a little louder, Kristy, so everyone in the cafeteria can hear," Claudia said.

"Is it so unbelievable?" I asked.

Kristy laughed. "No, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that, you know, the boys in The Group always seem to date the girls in The Group." (Kristy pronounced "the group" as if it were the title of a movie.)

"Maybe RJ's dated them all already/' Claudia remarked.

"You guysl" I complained.

"Just kidding!" Claudia shot back.

"I think it's great, Stace," Mary Anne Spier said.

"I admit, he is cute," Kristy conceded.

"Hey, Stacey!" Sheila's voice called out. I looked up and saw her waving to me as she walked into the cafeteria.

"Hi!" I called back.

For a moment I thought she would sit with us. But instead she walked to a table in the back, where The Group was sitting.

I know it sounds weird, but I had an urge to go sit with Sheila. The Group seemed to be having such a great time at their table. Besides, boys were there, including RJ.

But the urge went away. Claudia was telling us about a baby-sitting charge who insisted on using a wicker trash basket as a helmet. Soon we were all laughing hysterically, and I forgot about The Group.

You know what? Sheila was not the only cheerleader who was friendly to me that day. Margie Greene, who had never even looked my way, asked me about my outfit in English class. Penny Weller and I had a conversation about makeup in Social Studies.

After school, as I was taking books out of my locker, I saw RJ at the end of the hall. He didn't see me. I hurried up, hoping to run over to him and say hi.

Before I could close the locker, Jessi Ramsey came up from behind me. "Hey, just in time," she said.

Jessi is one of the BSC's two junior members. She's in sixth grade here at SMS. I'd almost forgotten she was meeting me after school that day. She had a sitting job in my neighborhood, so we'd agreed to walk home together.

"Oh, hi, Jessi," I said.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure."

I closed my locker. As Jessi and I walked to the door, I waved to RJ. He was with a few other Group members. One of them nudged him, and he waved back.

He was grinning.

Guess what. So was I.

Chapter 2.

"You're what!" Kristy blurted into the phone receiver. "You call that 'having a good time'?"

Jessi was fidgeting excitedly. "Let me talk to Mal," she pleaded.

Mal is Mallory Pike, the BSC's other junior member. She was getting over a case of mono. Before our Wednesday club meeting officially began, Kristy had decided to call her and find out how she was doing.

"Here's Jessi," Kristy said. "Feel better!"

As Jessi took the receiver, Kristy shook her head. "Mal said she's having a fantastic time. She spends all day reading."

"What's wrong with that?" Mary Anne asked.

"If I couldn't get up and run outside, I'd go out of my mind," Kristy said.

Kristy, if you hadn't guessed, is very take-charge. Which is a polite way of saying she's bossy. And loud.

· 15

I mean those things in the nicest way. Really. I love Kristy. She is so smart and has the most amazing ideas. Amazing Idea Number One: the Baby-sitters Club. Yes, she invented us. It happened one day in seventh grade when her mom was frantieally trying to line up a sitter for Kristy's little brother. Kristy wanted to help her. She realized the answer to her mom's problem — a group of reliable baby-sitters, like an agency, with one phone number, so parents could reach several sitters at once.