Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 061

As the princess was signing in, a tremendous blast of music made everyone turn to the stairs. Linny came bounding down wearing sunglasses, a black T-shirt, and a red bandana wrapped around his head pirate-style. Heavy rock was blaring from his portable tape player.

He leaped from the bottom step and spread his arms wide. "It's me, Johnny Rocket!" he exclaimed. "I'm bringing my rocking dance fever to your hotel!" He boogied to the center of the room, swinging his tape player as he jumped around like some sort of demented rock star.

The girls caught the "dance fever" right away. Kristy and Shannon burst out laughing at the sight of the kids bopping around in their costumes, legs flailing and arms swinging in time to the pounding beat. Even Sari rocked rhythmically from side to side along with them.

"I guess they don't need us anymore," Kristy said to Shannon, shouting over the loud music.

"I guess not," Shannon agreed.

"Did you get a chance to call Stacey or Dawn or anybody?" Kristy shouted.

"Yeah," Shannon replied with a smile. "I'm meeting Stacey and Claudia downtown on Saturday. Dawn might come, too." At that moment, Sari tumbled over and started to cry. Kristy hurried to her and snatched her away from the gyrating dancers. "Gee, nobody told me about it," Kristy said, rubbing Sari's back soothingly.

"We just assumed you were busy," Shannon told her. "Do you want to come?" Kristy sat on the couch and held Sari in her lap. "I can't. I'm baby-sitting on Saturday." "You can join us another time," Shannon said.

"Yeah, I guess so," replied Kristy. "Another time." Chapter 5.

On Friday, I was glad to get to my dance class. I was used to attending twice a week and discovered I missed having that second class. My muscles hadn't tightened up, and I hadn't forgotten anything. But still, I suddenly understood why more girls hadn't volunteered to help Mme Dupre. Missing class made them a bit anxious.

My own anxious feelings surprised me as I stood plieing (that's "plee-ay-ing") at the barre. I'd thought I didn't care about falling behind, but I guess I'm more competitive than I'd realized.

Really, though, I didn't have to worry. Once class began I saw that I hadn't missed much, and I danced the same as always.

Well, almost the same.

One time I teetered during my arabesque and I misstepped on a simple assemble at the end of class. (That's a basic jump.) I didn't mess up because I'd missed Tuesday's class, though. I messed up because I wasn't completely concentrating on my dancing. I kept watching Mary Bramstedt.

Ever since Tuesday in the dressing room, I couldn't quite get Mary and her diet out of my mind. Something about that bothered me, though I couldn't pinpoint what it was.

Now I was noticing a lot of things about Mary that I hadn't been aware of before. For example, she constantly checked her image in the ceiling-to-floor mirror which took up the entire wall opposite the barre.

Okay, all dancers do that. That's what the mirror is there for - so we can check that we are standing straight and in the right position and so forth. But it was different with Mary. She would study herself when she was in line waiting to dance, or during breaks.

You might be thinking, "Oh, how conceited of her," but it wasn't vanity. She didn't seem to be admiring herself. She seemed to be worrying about her appearance. I noticed that she was constantly pinching her waist and her stomach.

After class that day, one of the other volunteers, the redhead named Darcy, waited out in the hall. "Jessi, Mary," she called to us as we filed out.

"Hi," I said, a little surprised. After all, I'd never spoken to Darcy before.

"Listen," she said. "Sue and I were talking with Vince and Raul and we decided to go out for a bite after class next Tuesday. We figured us volunteers should get to know one another. Do you want to come?" "Sure," I said. I probably answered a little too quickly, but no one at dance school had ever asked me to do anything with them. I was kind of flattered.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked.

"We figured we'd go to the Burger King on the corner," Darcy told her.

"I don't know." Mary hesitated. "That's not the kind of food I usually eat." "None of us does. At least, not very often," said Darcy. "But it's the closest place and it's cold out. One time won't kill you." "I suppose." Mary gave in, still sounding doubtful. "One time would probably be all right." I could tell Darcy was put off by Mary's lack of enthusiasm. "Well, come if you want. You're invited," she said. "See ya Tuesday." Darcy waved as she hurried down the hall. "It will be good to get to know the other volunteers, don't you think?" I said to Mary.

"I already know Vince and he's no prize," Mary grumbled.

"What about Raul? I thought you wanted to get to know him better," I reminded her.

"What chance do I have with Darcy around? She's so pretty and there's not a drop of fat anywhere on her." "There's not a drop of fat on you, either," I pointed out.

Mary laughed bitterly. "Don't I wish." I didn't have any more time to talk. It was Friday - and that meant I needed to get my derriere into high gear. (Derriere is French for behind.) I had to do my amazing Friday sprint to the BSC meeting.

Once again I managed to slide into the meeting on time. Aside from hearing about Kristy's funny day with the Papadakises, the meeting was pretty quiet. (Kristy seemed unusually quiet, too, come to think of it. I wondered if something was on her mind.) I didn't take any baby-sitting jobs at that meeting and the weekend turned out to be mostly boring. I didn't mind, though. I was really looking forward to going to Burger King on Tuesday.

Usually I'm not super fashion conscious, but I found myself thinking about clothing. Since I would be free from my regular leotard on Tuesday, I had to decide what to wear. After a lot of thought, I settled on a neon-green leotard and a pair of deep blue work-out pants with heavy yellow slouchy socks. It was important to me not to look babyish. Even though I was younger than the other volunteers, I wanted them to think of me as their age.

That Tuesday, the kids' class was a zoo once again. There were simply too many kids in the class. At least that was my opinion. But Mme Dupre calmly divided the class into six groups and assigned each volunteer to one group.

I was glad when she gave Raul the group which included Devon Ramirez and two of his buddies. I certainly didn't want to have to keep them in line. But I got stuck with Nora and Jane. Those two were determined not to participate any more than was absolutely required. When we worked on plies they bent their knees so slightly you'd think they were little old ladies instead of eight-year-olds. (However, from the corner of my eye, I saw Devon bouncing up and down as if he had springs on his feet. I guess I preferred Nora and Jane - in a way.) Mary was working with the group that included the shy girl named Martha. (That day Mary wore a big white shirt and a pair of gray sweats. You couldn't tell what her body looked like in that outfit. Maybe that was why she wore it.) Anyway, Martha didn't look at Mary or anyone the whole time. She kept entirely to herself.

After showing the kids the plies, each volunteer took his or her group to the bane to practice. At the bane, Mme Dupre showed them how to do a grand battement. The kids seemed to like that because swinging their legs up to the bane was the first really balletlike thing they had learned.

For the last fifteen minutes of class, Mme Dupre put on the Fantasia soundtrack again. She told the kids to dance around using only plies and grand battements as the basis for their dance steps. The results were funny. I had to look hard to find a real plie or grand battement anywhere.

Despite the silly-looking dancing, Mme Dupre appeared very pleased by the time class ended. "First we break them of old habits," she said to us volunteers, "then we rebuild them into ballet dancers." "If you say so," Darcy whispered under her breath as Mme Dupre walked away.