Ann Martin: Baby-Sitters Club 122

BSC122 - Kristy in Charge - Martin, Ann M.

Chapter 1.

I sat forward at my desk and gave Ms. Garcia my complete attention. She's my homeroom teacher, and what she was telling our class this morning was extremely interesting to me.

"This year the Stoneybrook Board of Education has worked with other schools in southern Connecticut and has come up with a new program called TOT - Teachers of Tomorrow. For three days student volunteers will be teaching some classes in place of the teachers," she told us.

Yess! I thought. My friends call me Kristy Thomas, the Idea Machine, and I guess the name fits. Instantly, I was thinking of a million ways Stoneybrook Middle School (otherwise known as SMS) could be improved.

I raised my hand. "Yes, Kristy?" Ms. Garcia said.

"Is Mr. Taylor's job available?" "You want to be the principal?" Ms. Garcia asked with a smile.

The class laughed. I was slightly embarrassed, but I just grinned and shrugged.

What's wrong with wanting to be in charge? I couldn't think of anyone else in the eighth grade better equipped for the job. After all, I have experience in running things. I formed a softball team for little kids called Kristy's Krushers. And I'm founder and president of the Baby-sitters Club. I'll tell you more about that later, but for now let me say that the BSC (as we call it) is more than a club. It's a very successful business.

"I don't think the principal's job is open," Ms. Garcia said. "But let me tell you how this is going to work." Ms. Garcia went on to explain that any kid who was interested could volunteer to student teach. That would involve teaching in another class every other day for a week (three times total). We'd have to go through a teacher training course and submit prepared lesson plans, just like a real teacher does.

A troubling thought hit me. Did I look enough like a teacher to control a class of SMS kids? For one thing, I'm only five feet tall, which makes me the smallest kid in my grade. And I don't look particularly sophisticated. No makeup. No jewelry. I wear my long brown hair plain and like no-fuss clothes such as jeans, sweatshirts, and sweaters.

Naw, not a problem, I decided. Although I had never taken the place of an adult, I'd never, ever had trouble leading a group.

"You'll get to experience what we teachers go through," Ms. Garcia continued. 'Also, we hope some of you will be inspired to become teachers yourselves someday." A girl named Cokie Mason (whom I can't stand because she's mean, conceited, and generally obnoxious) appeared at the door with some papers to give Ms. Garcia. She'd stood there long enough to hear what Ms. Garcia had been saying. "Will TOT volunteers be dismissed from their regular classes those days?" she asked as she handed Ms. Garcia the stack of papers.

Well, duh. Cokie has never been a bright light, but this was a dumb question even for her. Did she really think she'd be expected to be in two places at once?

"You'll attend your regular classes except for the class periods when you are teaching another class," Ms. Garcia explained.

"Cool!" Cokie said with a giggle as she left the room.

1 couldn't imagine being in a class taught by Cokie. I raised my hand and asked, "Can anybody do this?" Ms. Garcia nodded. 'As long as you take the training course. Also, I should mention, those students who do volunteer will receive extra credit for their work." I was definitely going to volunteer. Even if I couldn't be principal, I had ideas about how some of my classes could be improved. For example, Ms. Griswold, my science teacher, tends to ignore a bunch of goof-off boys who sit in the back of the class. I'd make them work or get out. They distract everyone who sits near them. And Mrs. Simon, my English teacher, although she's very nice, picks the dullest things for us to read. I'd assign books that are much more enjoyable.

I wondered which class I'd be assigned to. I was eager to know so I could start planning my lessons right away.

It was time to move on to my first period class. Before I left homeroom, I spoke to Ms. Garcia. "I'd like to volunteer," I told her.

"You'll have to wait until Monday," she replied. "We want to give students the weekend to think it over. We only want kids who are serious and who can give the project the time it requires." "That makes sense," I agreed. "All right. I'll sign up then." Outside in the crowded hall I saw my friend (and neighbor) Abby Stevenson hurrying to class. "Hey, Abby!" I called to her.

She turned and waited for me. "Hi," she said. "What's up?" "This student teaching thing is going to be awesome, isn't it?" I said as we began walking together down the hall.

'Are you going to do that?" she cried. "Why would you? It's so much extra work!" "It's also extra credit," I reminded her.

"You get great grades. You don't need extra credit. You just want to boss kids around." And my friends say I'm too blunt.

"No, I don't!" I objected. (Though I secretly wondered if there was a grain of truth to her comment.) A grin slowly spread across my face. "I want to boss the teachers around." "Oh, way to go," Abby said with a laugh. "How do you expect to do that?" "I want to show them how they've been messing up in their classes. Show by example, I mean." Abby rolled her eyes. "I don't know. It sounds like too much work to me. Do you still want me to come over tonight?" "Yeah," I said. "I'd love the company - and the help. David Michael and Karen don't act as goofy when someone not related to them is there." That night I was sitting for my baby sister, Emily Michelle, who is two and a half; my younger brother, David Michael (who is seven), and my stepsister, Karen (also seven). I also have two older brothers, Sam (fifteen) and Charlie (seventeen), and a stepbrother, Andrew (five), who is staying with his mother in Chicago for a few months.

It sounds like a full house, doesn't it? It's even more full. My grandmother, Nannie, lives with us. And we have a Bernese mountain dog puppy named Shannon, a fat old cat named Boo-Boo, and several other pets, including a puppy we are training to be a guide dog.

Luckily, it's a big house. A mansion, to be exact. Nine bedrooms and three floors! (The top floor is the attic.) It took a little getting used to at first. You see, we (Mom, my brothers, and I) started out living in a pretty average house. Our dad left us right after David Michael was born (which is all I'll say about him). Mom somehow managed to keep everything together. Then she married Watson Brewer and we all moved across town into the mansion.

"David Michael and Karen are fun," Abby objected. 'And Emily Michelle is a doll!" I smiled. They really are great kids. But having Abby around for backup was still a good idea.

Ahead of me I saw Alan Gray. Some kids call him the class clown. I'd vote him Most Obnoxious.

"The lunatics are about to take over the asylum!" he shouted.

"Do you really want him as your teacher?" Abby asked, jerking her thumb in Alan's direction.

Alan whirled around to face us. "I'd be a great teacher. We'd study comic books. And rock lyrics. The things that really matter in this world." "Fabulous, Alan," Abby said dryly. "See what I mean?" she said after he was gone. "This idea has major drawbacks, if you ask me." As it turned out, she was right. The idea had more drawbacks than either of us could ever have imagined.

Chapter 2.

"Who's doing TOT?" Stacey McGill asked that afternoon before our Friday BSC meeting. We were in Claudia Kishi's bedroom, where we hold meetings.

"I'd love to do it," Stacey continued, "if I could be sure I'd get a math class." Stacey is a math whiz and the club treasurer.

"You can't pick," Mallory Pike told her. "I already asked. You have to take the class the TOT coordinator assigns you." Claudia ripped open a bag of popcorn. "There's no way I'm doing it," she said firmly. That was no surprise. School is not one of her favorite things. She'd probably rather go to the dentist than go to school.