Ann Martin - Kristy's Great Idea

I didn't have the vaguest idea what she was talking about. "Gee, Janine, I gotta go," I cut her off as Claudia went on into her room. "Stacey's waiting for us. See you." I really cannot take much of Janine. And I always make a mistake in front of her. I don't know how Claudia manages to live in the same house with her.

Just as I reached Claudia's bedroom, the doorbell rang. "That's Mary Anne," I called. "I'll let her in, Claud." I ran downstairs, opened the door, warned Mary Anne about

Janine, then ran back upstairs with Mary Anne at my heels. We ran straight to Claudia's room, careful not to look in at Janine as we ran by her open door.

"Hi," Claudia said, closing her door behind us. "You guys, this is Stacey McGill. Stacey, this is Kristy Thomas and this is Mary Anne Spier."

"Hi!" Stacey and I said brightly.

Mary Anne suddenly turned shy. "Hi," she said softly, speaking more to a wall than to Stacey.

I looked at Stacey. I could see why she and Claudia were friends already. Stacey had on a pink sweat shirt with sequins and a large purple parrot on the front; short, tight-fitting jeans with zippers up the outsides of the legs; and pink plastic shoes. She was very pretty, tall and quite thin with huge blue eyes framed by dark lashes, and fluffy blonde hair that looked as if it had been permed recently. I glanced at Mary Anne. She and I were still in our school clothes — skirts and blouses. I was wearing white knee socks and loafers. Mary Anne was wearing short white socks and saddle shoes. Mary Anne's hair was, of course, in braids, and I was wearing a blue hair band.

We looked like second-graders. Stacey and Claudia looked like models.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well," I cleared my throat. "Claudia, did you tell Stacey about the Baby-sitters Club?"

"Just what we talked about yesterday," she replied.

"Did you baby-sit inNew York ?" I asked Stacey.

"Oh, all the time. We lived in this big building. There were over two hundred apartments in it — "

"Wow," said Mary Anne.

" — and I used to put up signs in the laundry room. People called me all the time." She paused. "I can stay out until ten on Friday and Saturday nights."

Another "Wow" from Mary Anne.

I was feeling more and more like a baby. How was it possible to feel so much younger than someone who was the same age as you?

"I'd really like to be in the club," said Stacey. "I don't know too many kids in Stoneybrook yet. And it'd be nice to earn some money. My mom and dad buy my clothes, but I have to earn money for other things — you know, tapes and jewelry and stuff."

"How come you leftNew York ?" asked Mary Anne. Mary Anne has a real thing forNew York — for glamour and lights and stores. She wants to live in the city after she's grown up.

Stacey looked at the floor. She started jiggling her right foot back and forth. "Oh," she said lightly, "my dad changed his job. Gosh, you have a lot of neat posters, Claudia."

"Thanks. I made those two myself." Claudia pointed to a picture of a horse galloping through a desert, and to another of a girl sitting on a window seat, gazing outside.

"Boy, if I lived inNew York I wouldn't leave for anything," Mary Anne went on. "Tell me what it's like to live there. What was your school like?"

"Well," began Stacey, "I went to a private school."

"Did you have to wear a uniform?" asked Claudia, shuddering.

"Nope. We could wear regular clothes."

"How did you get to school?" asked Mary Anne.

"On the subway."

"Wow."

"Once," Stacey added, seeing how impressed Mary Anne was, "I took the subway all the way from our apartment toConey Island . I had to change about a zillion times."

"Wow. Did you ever take a cab by yourself?"

"Sure. Lots of times."

"Wow."

At Mary Anne's last "Wow" we all began giggling.

"Well, anyway," I said, "to get back to the Baby-sitters Club, what I think we should do is make two lists: one of rules, and one of things to do — "

"Does this mean," Stacey interrupted me, "that I'm in the club?"

I glanced at Mary Anne, who nodded her head. I already knew what Claudia thought.

"Yup," I said.

"Oh, hey! Great!" Stacey exclaimed, grinning.

Claudia gave her the thumbs-up sign. Then she pulled a package of peanut M&M's from under her pillow. "We should celebrate," she said, handing the candy around.

Mary Anne and I were starved and each gobbled down a handful, but Stacey just glanced in the package and then passed it back to Claudia. "These are — you've only got five left," she said.

"Oh, go ahead," replied Claudia. "I've got lots of stuff stashed away. Mom and Dad don't know about it." She said she had bubble gum in her underwear drawer, a chocolate bar behind her encyclopedias, a package of Twin-kies in her desk drawer, and some Wint-o-

green Lifesavers in her piggy bank.

"No, thanks," said Stacey. "I'm, um, on a diet."

"You?" I cried. "You're skinny already!" Stacey was the first person my age I knew who was on a diet. "How much do you weigh?" I demanded.

"Kristy!" Claudia exclaimed. "Thaf s none of your business."

"But it's not safe to diet if you don't need to. My mom said. Does your mother know you're dieting?"

"Well, she — "

"See, I'll bet she doesn't."

At that moment, someone knocked on Clau-dia's door. "Mary Anne!" Janine called. "Your father phoned on the other line. He says it's time for you to go home."

Mary Anne looked at her watch. "Six-ten!" she cried. "Oh, no, I'm late. Dad hates it when I'm late. Thanks, Janine. I have to go, you guys."

"Wait," I said. "We didn't finish making our plans."

"Let's meet tomorrow at recess," suggested Claudia.

"Really?" I said. Recently, Claudia has been spending recess watching the cute boys play

basketball. She never wants to play four-square or tetherball with Mary Anne and me.

"Sure," she said. "As soon as we're done with lunch we'll meet outside by the gym door. Somebody remember to bring a pad of paper and a pen."

"I will," I volunteered.

Mary Anne stood up then and practically flew home.

"I better go, too," said Stacey.

"Me, too," I said.

Claudia walked us to the door and we went our separate ways.

The Friday lunch atStoneybrookMiddle School is always the same: sloppy joes, red Jell-O with canned fruit in it, a dinky cup of coleslaw, milk, and a fudgesicle.

I truly hate it, except for the fudgesicle.

After Mary Anne and I had forced down as much as possible, we went outside to wait for Claudia and Stacey. We hadn't sat with them in the cafeteria because they were eating at a table full of the most sophisticated seventh-grade girls (whom we hardly knew) and some boys. How they could eat with boys was beyond me. The boys are always doing gross things like smushing up peas and ravioli in

their milk cartons to see what colors they can make. Claudia seems to think those things are hilarious.

So Mary Anne and I reached the gym door first. We played a fast game of tetherball while we waited. I won. 1 usually do. I'm good at sports.

"Hi, you guys!" called Claudia about ten minutes later. She and Stacey were walking across the playground.

"Hi!" we answered.

The four of us went to a quiet corner of the school building and sat down on some empty packing crates.

"I've got the paper and pen," I said. "And something else." I pulled the list that I had made Tuesday night from my pocket and pointed to section two, which was labeled ADVERTISING. "This is what we have to do next: Let people know what we're doing."

"Right," agreed Claudia from underneath an outrageous red felt hat, which her teacher wouldn't allow her to wear in the classroom.

"I think fliers are the easiest way to tell people about our club. We can make up a nice ad and my mom can Xerox it at her office. Then we can stick copies in people's mailboxes. We can do it in our neighborhood and on other