Ann Martin - Jessi Ramsey, Petsitter

she said, "Are you scared, too?" which is very important.

"Yeah, I am," I told her.

"Well, please stop by. I'd feel much better."

So of course I stopped by. Mallory and I walked to Claudia's with our arms linked, as if we could fend off arguments and yelling and hurt feelings that way.

We had to unlink our arms at the Kishis' front door, though. It was the only way to get inside.

Mimi greeted us in the hallway.

"Who's here?" I asked her.

I must have looked scared because she answered, "All others. But do not worry, Jessi. I know plobrems will . . . will work out."

I nodded. "Thanks, Mimi."

Mal and I climbed the stairs as slowly and as miserably as if we were going to our own funerals. We walked down the hallway. I heard only silence. I threw a puzzled glance back to Mallory, who shrugged.

A few more seconds and I was standing in Claudia's doorway. Well, there was the reason for the silence. Everyone was present all right, but no one was talking — not to Kristy, not to each other.

Mary Anne was sitting stiffly on the end of

Claudia's bed. She was gazing at the ceiling; her eyes looked teary.

Claudia, at the other end of her bed, was leafing silently through one of her sketchbooks.

Dawn was seated between Mary Anne and Claudia, and her long hair was falling across her face, almost as if she hoped to hide from everyone by not being able to see them.

And Kristy, well, Kristy looked like she always looks. She was poised in the director's chair, her visor in place, a pencil over one ear. I couldn't read the expression on her face, though.

Oops, I thought, as I paused in the doorway. If I stand here too long, Kristy will say, "What's with you guys? Are you going to stand there all day? Come on in so we can get started."

But Kristy didn't say a word. She just glanced at Mal and me and gave us a little smile. So we crept into Claudia's room and settled ourselves on the floor.

Kristy waited another minute until the digital clock on Claud's desk read 5:30. That minute was the longest one of my life. I was dying to whisper something to Mal like, "This room feels like a morgue," or, "Cairn down, everybody. You're too cheerful. You're going to get out of control." But I couldn't. For one thing,

in all that silence, everyone would have heard what I said. For another, I think the girls kind of wanted to feel bad, and I wasn't about to be responsible for cheering them up.

"Order," said Kristy as the numbers on the clock switched from 5:29 to 5:30.

Everyone already was in order.

"Well, um, is there any club business?" asked Kristy.

No one said a word. No one even moved.

Since it wasn't Monday, there were no dues to be collected, and Kristy didn't need to ask if we'd read the notebook. (Not that she'd bring it up. I had a feeling "notebook" was going to be a dirty word for awhile.)

Kristy cleared her throat. "Well," she said in this falsely cheerful voice, "any snacks, Claud?"

Silently Claudia reached behind the pillows on her bed and pulled out a bag of Doritos and a bag of popcorn. She passed the Doritos to Dawn and the popcorn to Kristy. The bags circled the room in opposite directions. No one reached into the bags. No one took so much as a kernel of popcorn, not even Kristy, who had asked about food in the first place.

I guess that had just been something for Kristy to say, that she wasn't really hungry.

And that was when I realized that she — our president, our queen — was as uncomfortable as the rest of us were.

Ring, ring.

Thank heavens. A phone call. I had never been more relieved to hear that sound. Like robots, Dawn answered the phone and Mary Anne scheduled a job for Claudia with the Marshall girls.

Ring, ring.

Another call came in. Then another and another.

At about 5:50, the phone stopped ringing, and Kristy, looking more uncomfortable than ever, said, "All right. I — I have a few things to say about the elections tomorrow."

"We're still going to have them, aren't we?" asked Claudia.

"Of course. But I wanted to figure out a way to avoid ties in the voting. This is what I came up with. First of all, Jessi and Mallory, you'll be voting, as you know."

We nodded.

"There are two reasons for that," Kristy continued. "One, you're club members, so you should vote. Two, we need five people voting in order to prevent a lot of ties. I know that sounds confusing, but you'll see what I mean in a few minutes."

"Okay," Mal and I said at the same time.

"Next, the voting will be secret. I'll make up ballots with boxes by our names. All we'll have to do is write X's in the boxes. I don't think we can get much more secret than that."

Stony silence greeted Kristy. I frowned. Wasn't anyone else relieved to hear what she'd just said?

Kristy continued anyway. "The last thing," she said, "is that, you, Mary Anne, you, Claudia, you, Dawn, and I—the four of us— will be able to vote in the election for each office except the one we hold. In other words, I can vote in the elections for vice-president, secretary, and treasurer, but not president. The reason for this is that without me, for instance, five people will be choosing from among four people for president. A tie is possible, but not likely. I think we'll avoid a lot of revotes this way."

"Anything else?" asked Dawn from behind her hair.

"No, that about covers it."

"I'll say it does," snapped Claudia.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kristy replied.

Yeah, I wondered. What is that supposed to mean?

"Can I answer?" spoke up Mary Anne. Her

voice was wobbling ever so slightly.

"Be my guest," said Claudia.

Mary Anne drew in a deep breath, probably to control her voice. "Kristy," she began, "have you ever heard of a democracy?"

Sensing an argument, Kristy replied sarcastically, "Why, no. I never have. What is a democracy, Mary Anne?"

Mary Anne tried hard to ignore the tone of Kristy's voice. "In a democracy," she said, "everyone has a say — "

"Which is why we're holding elections," Kristy interrupted, "and why we're all voting in them."

"I don't believe it," Dawn muttered. "She did it again."

"Kristy, would you listen to Mary Anne, please?" said Claudia.

Kristy rolled her eyes. Then she turned her gaze on Mary Anne and waited.

"In a democracy," Mary Anne began again, "everyone has a say in running the country. This club should be a democracy, too, Kristy, and the members should have a say in running things. In other words, you should have consulted us about the voting — about the ballots and the way the elections will be run."

Kristy blushed. I really thought she was going to apologize, but Dawn cut her off.

"But nooooo," Dawn said sarcastically. "You just barge ahead and do whatever seems right to you. You, you, you. You never think of what other people might want or feel."

It is not a good idea to make absolute statements like that — you never, no one does, everybody does. I have learned this the hard way. If I say to my mother, "But Mama, everyone is wearing them," she'll reply, "Everyone? Your grandfather? Squirt?" You know, that sort of thing.

So naturally Kristy pounced on the "you never think" part of what Dawn had said. "I never think of other people? What about when Claudia broke her leg and wanted to quit the club. Didn't I help her through that? I even helped her figure out what was wrong. And what about — "

"But Kristy," said Mary Anne in a small voice, "so many times you just don't think. You just don't..." Mary Anne's wavery voice finally broke and she burst into tears.

Dawn jumped to her feet. "Oh, that is nice, Kristy. That is really nice. Now look what you did."

"Look what I did?! I didn't do that! Mary Anne cries all the time. She does it by herself."