Ann Martin - Logan Likes Mary Anne !

I brushed my hair one hundred times. I don't have any makeup, but I do have some jewelry, so I put on a pair of small hoop earrings and a gold chain bracelet that used to belong to my mother. Then I took off the sweat shirt I'd

been wearing and put on a bright vest over a short-sleeved white blouse. I looked . . . not bad.

When it was only five-fifteen I ran to Clau-dia's. I was not the first one there. We were all excited about Logan Bruno. I met Stacey and Kristy at the front door, and when we reached our club headquarters, we found Claudia and Dawn already lying on the bed. They were eating popcorn.

"I can't wait!" Claudia was squealing.

"I know," said Dawn. "He is so adorable."

They were talking about Logan, of course.

Kristy practically bounced into the director's chair. I trailed after her, the last one into the room.

"Hey!" exclaimed Claudia. "You look nice, Mary Anne!"

"Thanks," I replied, blushing.

There was dead silence.

I didn't think I looked too different, but I must have, because all at once, everyone realized what I was doing.

"It's for Logan, isn't it," said Stacey softly, not even asking a question. She knew she was right.

"Of course not," I replied.

"Oh, come on, Mary Anne. You can tell us. We're your friends."

But just then the doorbell rang. Claudia sprang off her bed and dashed out of the room, through the hall, and down the stairs. A few seconds later, we heard the front door open. Then we heard two voices, one male and one female.

Logan had arrived.

Now, I don't know about Claudia, but there has never been a boy in my bedroom. (I mean, a boy who counts. Kristy's little brother doesn't count.) What would a boy have thought of my horse books and Snowman, my white teddy bear? What would a boy have thought of my lacy pillow sham or Lila, my antique doll?

I looked around Claudia's room. There were the four of us, the bowl of popcorn, and this rag doll of Claudia's named Lennie. Before Claudia and Logan reached the top of the stairs, I stuffed Lennie under the bed. Then I checked Claudia's bureau to make sure there was no underwear sticking out of drawers or anything. Her room wasn't too neat, but it seemed safe.

I cleared a spot on the floor for Logan.

I cleared it next to me.

"Hey, everybody," drawled Logan's familiar voice.

There he was, framed in Claudia's doorway.

He looked more handsome than ever.

Claudia was settling herself on the bed again. "Come on in," she said. "Pull up a patch of floor." She began to giggle.

Logan grinned and sat next to me. "Mary Anne, right?" he said.

I nodded. But my tongue felt as if someone had poured Elmer's glue on it and then covered it with sawdust.

"Let me make sure I have this right/' Logan went on. He looked at each of us in turn. "Claudia, um, Kristy . . . Dawn?" (Dawn nodded.) "And Stacey. You, I know."

Stacey smiled charmingly.

"So," said Logan. "What do we do here?"

(I loved his southern accent. I loved it!)

Kristy, Claudia, Stacey, and Dawn all began to talk.

"We answer the phone."

"People call in."

"We find the record book."

"We look in the treasury."

Logan glanced at me. "What do you do?"

The glue and sawdust just wouldn't go away. I tried clearing my throat. Ahem. Ahem. "I — " I croaked. "I, um — "

Stacey handed me the record book. "She's our secretary," she spoke up. "Mary Anne sets up our appointments."

"Oh/' said Logan. "I see." But he gave me a funny look.

At last the phone rang. The five of us jumped for it. Dawn got there first. "Hello, Baby-sitters Club/' she said. "Oh, hi! ... Yes. . . . Monday? . . . Okay, I'll get back to you." She hung up. "That was Mrs. Perkins. She has a doctor's appointment next Monday afternoon. She needs someone to watch Myriah and Gabbie from three-thirty till five-thirty." Dawn turned to Logan. "The Perkinses live right across the street. They've got two little girls, and Mrs. Perkins is expecting another baby. That's why she has to go to the doctor."

"Okay," said Logan.

"Well, who's free?" asked Dawn, looking at me.

Why was she — ? Oh, right. The appointment book. I picked it up, dropped it, picked it up, and dropped it again. Finally Logan handed it to me. I turned to the appointment calendar.

"What day did you say?" I asked Dawn.

"Next Monday."

"Um . . . I'm free and Claudia's free."

"You take it," said Claudia. "I've got to have a little time for my pottery."

"Thanks," I murmured, and penciled myself in.

Dawn called Mrs. Perkins back to tell her who the sitter would be.

"And thaf s how we work things," said Kristy to Logan as Dawn was hanging up.

"That's great," said Logan. "And you really get a lot of calls?"

As if in answer to his question, the phone rang three more times — Mrs. Pike, Mrs. Prezzioso, and a new client, a Mr. Ohdner, who needed a sitter for his two daughters. We assigned the jobs — but just barely. Claudia and Stacey were now busy with something every afternoon after school next week.

Claudia passed around the popcorn. Suddenly she burst out laughing. "You know what this reminds me of?" she said, patting the bowl.

"What?" we all asked.

"You know Dorianne Wallingford? Well, last weekend Pete Black takes her to the movies, and about halfway through, he reaches around behind her and snaps her br —" Claudia stopped abruptly.

I knew what she'd been about to say. Her bra strap. (Pete was always doing that, just to be mean.) Claudia had almost said bra strap in front of a boy.

Claudia began to blush. So did I. So did everyone in the room including Logan.

It was an awful moment. Logan tried to cover up. "Here, have some," he said, passing me the popcorn.

I don't know how it ended up upside-down, but it did.

"Oh, no!" I cried. I scrambled around, trying to put the kernels back in the bowl.

Logan and Stacey leaned over to help and knocked heads.

Somebody better do something fast, I thought. Bring up a new subject. . . anything.

Claudia must have been a mind-reader because she turned to Logan then and said, "What was your worst baby-sitting experience ever?"

"Well," said Logan (only it sounded like way-ull), "let me see. There was the time Tina Lawrence flushed one of her father's neckties down the toilet." (We laughed.) "And there was the time my brother got into Mom's lipsticks and colored the bathroom pink and red. But I think the worst time was when I was sitting for this little kid named Elliott. His mother was trying to toilet-train him and she showed me where his special potty was and everything. All morning after she left I kept asking Elliott if he needed to go, and all morning he kept saying, 'No, no, no.' So finally I took him into the bathroom and ..."

"And what?" I dared to ask.

Logan was blushing again. "I just realized. I can't say that part. ..."

"Oh," I said lamely.

A horrible silence fell over Claudia's room.

I looked at my watch. Ten more minutes before the meeting was over.

"Anyone want some soda?" asked Claudia.

"I do!" we all said instantly.

Claudia got to her feet. Logan jumped up and followed her out the door. "I'll help you/' he said.

As soon as they were downstairs, the other members of the Baby-sitters Club began moaning horribly. "Oh, this is so embarrassing," cried Stacey.

"I know," said Kristy. "Can we really ask a boy to join the club? I didn't think about stuff like this. We're not even having a regular meeting. At least, it sure doesn't feel like it. We're hardly talking about club stuff at all."

My head was spinning. I wanted Logan to be in the club, but if he joined — would I ever speak again? Or would I have a sawdust-covered tongue for eternity? And would we ever have another nice, normal, businesslike meeting?