Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 041

I spun the dial on my locker. I half expected to see a note stuck through the vent at the top of the door. Logan and I were always leaving notes for each other that way. Maybe Logan had gotten to school early, stuck a note in my locker, and then avoided looking at me because he knew he shouldn't have done that.

But there was no note.

That morning we had an assembly. I think it was about our school's dress code, but I wasn't paying much attention. Logan was sitting one row in front of me and four seats down. I had a perfect view of him. And if he turned his head slightly to the left, he had a pretty good view of me, too.

But we only glanced at each other once. And that was just because somebody near us dropped a book on the floor. As we looked around to see what had happened, our eyes met. Then we both faced front again.

Needless to say, Logan didn't' sit with Dawn, Kristy, Stacey, Claudia, and me at lunch that day. (Jessi and Mal eat during another period, since they're in a different grade.) Not that Logan a/ways sits at our table, but he usually does. And for the past several weeks he hadn't missed a day. He would move as close to me as he could get without actually sitting in my food. Sometimes he would feed me tidbits of his lunch, which was romantic, but embarrassing.

Anyway, the five of us sat at our usual table that Monday. When we had gotten settled, Kristy looked around. The first thing she said was, "Where's Logan, Mary Anne? Shouldn't he be in your lap?" "He does not," I replied testily, "sit in my lap." "Sorry," said Kristy. "But really. Where is he? In the library or someplace?" I glanced at Dawn. She was the only one who knew what was going on between Logan and me. I knew I would tell the rest of my friends soon, because we don't usually keep secrets from each other. But I didn't feel like telling them right now.

"Oh, Logan's off with the guys," I said to Kristy. "He needs guy-talk, a break from us girls." I scanned the cafeteria. "See? There he is with Pete and Austin and Trevor and everyone." Nobody questioned this. We ate, we talked about how bad the food was, we wondered how Jenny Prezzioso would react when the baby was born. Then lunch was over.

Whew.

By the end of the day, I felt drained. But working out relationships, I told myself, is not easy.

As I approached my locker after the last bell that afternoon, I could see Logan waiting for me. At least, I assumed he was at my locker. It was hard to tell since both walls are lined with lockers.

I began to walk more slowly. What was I going to say to Logan? What was he going to say to me? Maybe he'd thought things over and had decided we should break up. Noooo. I didn't want that.

When I finally reached my locker, feeling as if I were walking underwater, I dared to look into Logan's eyes. He looked into mine.

"I just wanted to say hi," he said seriously.

"Oh. Hi," I replied.

"See ya," said Logan, and walked off.

I stared after him. Well, that was better. We were speaking to each other, and I'd been expecting to do that. I do not consider the silent treatment to be a form of cooling off.

At home that night while Dawn and I were supposed to be doing our homework, I couldn't concentrate on anything - except Logan. In my history book, William Penn's face turned into Logan's. The romance story in our English text turned into a story about Logan and me.

"This is ridiculous," I said aloud.

"Mary Anne?" called Dawn from her room.

"Yeah? Can I come in? I need to talk." "Sure. I'm ready for a break." I walked down the hall, into Dawn's room, and sat on her bed. Dawn turned around in her desk chair.

"It's Logan, isn't it." she said. (It was a ·statement, not a question.) I nodded.

"Are you having second thoughts about what you said to him?" "I don't know. I can't stop thinking about him, about us." "You did what you thought was right," Dawn told me. "You stood up for yourself." "I guess . . ." "Mary Anne," said Dawn, "remember how you've been feeling lately - like Logan's too pushy, always taking charge, not listening to you? You don't want to go back to that again, do you?" "No. But I miss Logan." "My mom missed my dad at first, right after the divorce. But she knew she'd done the right thing." "I wish," I said, "that 'cooling off' didn't hurt so much." Chapter 8.

Who could be a better expert on brothers and sisters than Mallory? She has more of them than any other member of the BSC. (Although Kristy comes close, having six.) So I was glad that Mal had at least one sitting job with Jenny before the baby was born.

Mrs. Prezzioso left Jenny and Mal at about four o'clock to go to a lecture on childbirth at the hospital. Just like when I had sat for Jenny, the first thing she did after her mother left was take Mal's hand and say, "Want to come up to my room and see my new stuff from Mommy?" More new stuff? I wondered as I read Mal's notebook entry. Or was it the same new stuff she'd shown me?

Nope. It was more new stuff.

"See? Mommy got me this letters-and-numbers learning machine. Big girls have to start learning hard things because they'll be going to school soon. And she got me a workbook. Oh, and this doll. I'll tell you about the doll later. Want to see my new grown-up clothes?" Jenny went on.

"Sure," replied Mallory.

Jenny opened her closet door and pushed some coat hangers to one side. "Here's a new dress. Here's another new dress. And here is a very grown-up outfit." Jenny pointed to a pink plaid juniper over a white cotton blouse. "And this hat" (a pink straw hat with a white ribbon around it), "and these shoes" (pink ballet slippers), "go with the outfit." Mal nodded. "Beautiful," she said. She paused. Then she asked, "What were you going to tell me about your new doll?" Jenny scowled. "The doll is different from the other new things. Mommy buys me those new things so I won't be mad about the baby. But the doll is for this. Come on." Jenny picked up the doll and left her room. Mal followed her. They walked down the hall to the room next to Jenny's.

"This is the baby's room," Jenny informed Mal.

"It's very pretty," said Mal politely, looking at the cheerful yellow-and-white room. A white rug covered the floor. Yellow-and-white striped curtains hung at the windows. The walls had been painted a pale, pale yellow, and around the walls ran a frieze of parading ducks and lambs. The Prezziosos were ready for the baby. The crib was made up (some stuffed animals already sat in it); the changing table was equipped with diapers, powder, Baby-Wipes, and more; and a yellow duck lamp sat on the dresser. Everything looked brand-new, except for the crib.

As if she had read Mal's mind, Jenny said, "That used to be my crib." Mal wasn't sure what to say to that, but it didn't matter. Jenny didn't seem to expect an answer. She had marched over to the crib, expertly pulled the side down, and placed her new doll on the mattress.

"Mommy," said Jenny, "is teaching me to diaper my doll and give it a bottle." "It?" repeated Mal. "Isn't your doll a girl or a boy?" "Not yet," replied Jenny.

Mal let that one go by. She said, "Show me what you've learned so far." "Okay," said Jenny grimly. She moved the doll from the crib to the changing table. Then, steadying the doll with one hand, she reached for a disposable diaper. And then, as if she'd done it a thousand times before, she cleaned her doll with a Baby-Wipe, shook some powder on it, and then peeled off the tabs on the diaper and fastened it securely to her "baby." "Wow! Very nice," said Mal. "Soon you'll be ready to be a baby-sitter yourself. Maybe you can join the Baby-sitters Club." Jenny didn't even crack a smile. "I'll be busy with our baby," she said. "Anyway, look. See how you give a bottle to a baby?" Jenny sat in a rocking chair, held the doll carefully, and pretended to feed it. "Then you burp the baby," she went on. Jenny put the doll to her shoulder, patted its back, and said, "Burp!" Mal smiled. "Terrific!" "I told you I could do it. Mommy makes me practice every day." "Oh." With that, Jenny stood up, walked out of the baby's room, and down the hall toward hers. But instead of going into her room, she just tossed the doll through the doorway as she went by.