Ann Martin - Jessi And The Jewel Thieves

"If s going to be so weird to have a meeting without you guys," said Mary Anne.

"You'll survive it, I'm sure," Stacey wisecracked. "Just don't spend all the money in the treasury as soon as my back is turned."

"As interim treasurer," said Dawn, "I'll make sure they don't dean out the bank." She saluted.

"Okay, girls," called Stacey's mom from the

porch. "Let's get going. You've got a train to catch!"

We drove to the station and ended up standing around for about fifteen minutes, since the train was late. We were clustered underneath the sign that said NEW YORK BOUND TRAINS. What is it about waiting for a train when people are seeing you off? Nobody ever has a thing to say to anyone else, and you feel so awkward. Everybody keeps glancing down the track, looking for the train.

And that’s what we were doing. Once in a while someone would say something like, "Be sure to eat one of those big hot pretzels you can buy from the carts on the street," or "Say 'hi' to Bloomingdale's for me!", but in between, was this nervous silence. I was relieved when an announcement blared over the loudspeaker. "The 5:05 train bound for New York will be leaving on track 2. Two minutes to boarding time."

We all hugged each other. Stacey and I picked up our bags and waited for the train to pull in. Then we climbed aboard. We were finally on our way.

The train picked up speed and started to clack along the tracks. I watched out the window as we passed by the Stoneybrook landmarks, but within minutes the landscape was

unfamiliar and actually kind of boring. I started to think about the things I'd be doing that weekend: dinner with Quint's family, the ballet on Saturday night, and lots of walking around and seeing the sights and eating delicious food and shopping. I suddenly remembered a really cool store that Stacey had taken us to last time we were in New York, but I couldn't remember the name. I wanted to go there again, though, so I turned to Stacey, who had been sitting quietly, probably thinking about her own weekend plans. "Hey Stace," I said. "When we get to New York — "

"Hey, Jessi," she said, at exactly the same time. "When we get to New York — "

We both stopped short and cracked up. I touched her arm quickly and said, "Owe me a Coke." That's what we do now when two people say something at the same time: the first one to touch the other and say that wins the Coke. (In Stacey's case, a diet Coke.)

"What were you going to say?" I asked.

"Just that when we get there, I want you to stick close by me and watch what I do. You're not used to the city, and it can be pretty overwhelming."

I could tell that Stacey was feeling responsible for me. Not because I was younger, but just because I wasn't familiar with the city. It was sweet of her to worry. "I will," I said.

"What were you going to say?" she asked.

"I was trying to remember the name of that awesome store we went to last time," I said. "You know, the one where Claudia bought that mirror that screams when you look into it?"

"Mythology," said Stacey. "But guess what. Bad news. It closed awhile ago. We should go to Think Big, though. You'd like that store. It has gigantic versions of everything. It is way cool."

"Great," I replied. Then we sank into silence. I started to think about the weekend again, and about seeing Quint. I'd been trying to figure out what I wanted to say to him about our "relationship," and when I should talk to him. I'll admit I was pretty nervous, but there on the train I made a resolution: I'd have The Talk with him that night when I was at his family's house for dinner. That is, if I could find the right moment.

As the train rocked along, I also thought of Becca. I remembered how she'd looked at me with big, sad eyes as I said good-bye. I knew she'd survive the weekend, but I couldn't help worrying about her just a little. After all, she's only eight. It's hard to be apart from your family when you're that age.

Soon, though, I stopped worrying and started to feel excited. I noticed that the landscape we were passing through had changed. Instead of fields and woods and the occasional neighborhood, I was starting to see bigger buildings and busier roads. We were getting dose to New York!

Chapter 4.

Half an hour later, we had arrived in New York. We were whizzing along a crowded, traffic-filled street, stuffed into the back of a cab with Stacey's father. He'd met us at Grand Central Station and whisked us out onto the street and into the cab almost before I could catch my breath.

Manhattan. What an awesome place. I heard Stacey's dad ask about the train trip, but I let Stacey answer him. I was too busy staring out of the windows as the cab hurtled along. Why do cabs always drive so fast in New York? I guess they're just going with the flow. Everything is fast in the city. People talk fast, they walk fast, they do everything fast.

We stopped at a light, and hundreds of people streamed across the street. I saw men in business suits, carrying attaché cases. I saw women in business suits, carrying attaché cases and pocketbooks — and wearing running shoes instead of high heels. I saw women who looked like models, wearing amazingly chic outfits. Even Claud and Stacey don't dress like that! I saw bicycle messengers flying past, dodging people and cars. And I saw little old ladies carrying shopping bags and walking tiny dogs.

Everywhere I looked there was something to see, and I wanted to see it all, but I knew that if I looked in one direction I'd miss something in another. Stacey nudged me. "We're passing Bloomie's," she said.

I gaped at the big building with the brass-and-glass revolving doors, and at the sidewalk merchants who had set up tables in front of it.

"How about if we hop out and shop for a few minutes?" Stacey teased her dad. "You can wait in the cab."

He smiled. "I have other plans for you, young lady," he said. "I made dinner reservations at the Sign of the Dove."

"All right!" exclaimed Stacey. "My favorite."

For a minute I wished I could go with them. I love to eat out in fancy restaurants, and besides, I was still a little nervous about seeing — and having my Talk with — Quint. But then Mr. McGill asked, "What time are you due at your friend's house?", and I realized that I had to go through with my plans.

"Not until seven," I replied.

"Fine," he said. "Our reservation is for seven-thirty. We'll get you girls settled at my apartment, and then Stacey can put you in a cab."

Just then we pulled up in front of an old brick building. After Mr. McGill had paid the cab driver, we went inside and up to his apartment. I looked around. I'd been there before, but the last time I'd visited New York, I'd stayed at Laine Cummings' apartment, since I'd been traveling with the entire BSC and not all of us could fit into Mr. McGill's place. Laine Cummings used to be Stacey's best friend in New York, but they — well, they're not friends at all, anymore.

Anyway, Mr. McGill's apartment is nice. Kind of small, but nice. There are two bedrooms, one of which is for Stacey to use whenever she visits. The living room has brick walls and a fireplace, which I thought was pretty cool.

"You can stay in my room, with me," said Stacey. "I have a futon that unrolls into an extra bed." She showed me her room, and I stuck my overnight bag in a corner. Then I just stood for a moment with my hands in my pockets. I was feeling strange and out of place.

Stoneybrook is so small and quiet, and New York is so big and noisy. I was kind of overwhelmed.

"How about a soda?" asked Stacey. "We can relax for a few minutes before you have to

go."

"Great," I said. I checked myself in the mirror that hung behind her door. "I don't think I'll change. Quint's family is pretty informal."

"You look fine," she assured me.