Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 037

"Now can we please begin?" James said.

"Shoe sale! Shoe sale!" Gabbie chanted.

"Come buy some shoes. We have specials today." "Myriah, you can make your entrance now," James said. "Quiet, everybody." He sat down next to me at the picnic table. Nobody moved. "Myriah, what are you waiting for?" he yelled.

She stared at him, her hand on Chewy's neck. "We're waiting for you to cue us," she said. "That's the way they do it in the movies. You're supposed to say, 'And . . . action!' " James rolled his eyes. "All right, all right," he muttered. "And . . . action!" I smiled.

The scene started smoothly. Myriah was talking softly to Chewy, asking if he was lost, when suddenly earsplitting rock music filled the air.

"Who turned on that radio?" James demanded. He jumped up and raced over to Mathew, who was sitting in a red wagon. "Mathew, what do you think you're doing?" He reached into the wagon and pulled out a small radio. "You're ruining the scene. We can't hear Myriah's lines." Mathew shrugged. "I'm playing music in my pizza parlor." Myriah frowned. "Mathew, you can't make noise when someone else is saying their lines. That's the first thing you have to learn when you put on a play." "But I don't have anything to do. Nobody gave me any lines." "You have lines in the next scene," James told him. "Look, all you have to do right now is stay in your place and act like you're making pizzas." "I know what I could do," Mathew said. "I£ you give me my radio back, I could listen to music through my headphones." James hesitated. "I guess that would be okay. Just make sure you pay attention so you don't miss your cue. Myriah is going to visit all the stores in the mall, and you're the second place she goes." Myriah shifted impatiently. "Can we start over now? Chewy's getting restless." "Okay," James said. I could tell he was getting a little annoyed at all the interruptions. "Places everyone." "You're at it again? I don't believe it!" exclaimed a voice.

I turned to see Zach steer his bike toward the picnic table, where James and I were sitting. "I thought you had enough of this baby stuff the other day." "It's not baby stuff," Myriah said, insulted. "We're putting on a real play." "Yeah, yeah." Zach plopped himself down next to James and punched him playfully in the arm. "So what do you say we play some football?" "He can't leave rehearsal," Myriah said. "We're right in the middle of a very important scene." "I bet!" Zach snorted. "What kind of a play has a dog in it? You must be 'doing Annie." "No. I already told you. It's a play I wrote myself," James said shyly. Zach doubled up with laughter and nearly fell off the picnic bench.

"I know, I know." He socked James again, this time on the shoulder. "When are you going to grow up and do some guy stuff?" "Guy stuff?" Zach leaned close to him. "You know, football, skateboarding, things like that." "I do a lot of sports," James said stiffly. I could tell he was embarrassed because two little pinpoints of color had appeared on his cheeks.

"You could have fooled me!" Zach hooted. "Every time I see you, you're hanging around with a bunch of girls." He paused. "You know, you're never going to be popular at this rate. The kids at school still think you're weird." "Weird?" Zach nodded. "Can you blame them? You don't talk right, you don't go out with the guys, and worst of all, you hang around with girls." James hung his head and looked sheepish. "I don't want anybody to think I'm weird." "Well, of course you don't," Zach said, slapping him on the back. "But you can change all that. Just start doing things differently. And you can start right now." "I can?" "Sure." Zach stood up and got on his bike. "Come on back to my house and we'll toss a football around. Then we'll watch a new horror movie I just rented. Oh, yeah, and we'll work on talking like a real American." He released the kickstand on his bike, ready to go. "Sound good?" James hesitated, and then tossed his script on the picnic table. "You're on!" he said.

"James," Myriah wailed. "What about the play?" James shook his head and didn't answer. He was already on the way to the garage for his bike.

"Now what will we do?" Mathew asked. "We can't put on the play without James." "We'll think of something else to do," I promised him. I watched as Zach and James pedaled down the driveway. Why did James let Zach talk to him that way? And why did he want to change his whole personality to please Zach? James was a great kid, just the way he was. Zach had no business telling him how to talk or how to act. Why did James let him get away with it? None of it made any sense to me, and I was very disappointed in James.

Chapter 10.

Kristy dropped a bomb and didn't even know it. It all started at our Monday afternoon BSC meeting in Claudia's room. Jessi mentioned Jackie Rodowsky, the "walking disaster," and everyone started telling funny stories about him. In case you don't know, Jackie is a really cute seven-year-old with flaming red hair and freckles. He is also accident-prone.

"Do you remember the day I took Jackie to the pool?" Kristy said. "First he got stung by a bee, and then he got lost and almost gave me a heart attack. My brother Sam told one of the girls in his class about it, and she said she saw the whole thing. She was working as a lifeguard that day." "Really? Who was it?" Mary Anne asked.

"I don't know her name, but she's this fantastic-looking girl who's captain of the swim team at Stoneybrook High School." Kristy picked up her clipboard, ready to get back to business. "Sam says she's the reason Travis tried out for swimming along with all his other sports. I hear he's really crazy about her. They've been dating for weeks." I looked up from the club notebook in total shock. Travis was dating someone? Travis was crazy about someone? How could that be possible? He was interested in me! I could feel my cheeks burning, and I wondered if anyone else noticed. I started thumbing through a Seventeen magazine, hoping Kristy wouldn't get annoyed with me.

The club meeting went on as usual and a few minutes later, I actually managed to take a phone call from Dr. Johanssen, who needed a sitter for Charlotte. My voice sounded a little shaky, but I wrote down all the details about the job and promised to call her back.

"Now, who gets the job?" Kristy asked brightly, as Mary Anne checked the record book. .

I returned to the Seventeen magazine, dying for the meeting to be over. What was going on with Travis? Could Kristy be mistaken? I couldn't wait to get home and figure everything out.

Unfortunately, Mom asked me to make a salad the minute I walked in the door. It was the last thing in the world I felt like doing, but what could I say? Mary Anne made spaghetti, Mom made the sauce (meatless), Richard made garlic bread, and before I knew it, all four of us were eating dinner together.

I was there, but I wasn't there. Does that make sense? I was sitting at the dining room table, passing the salad and half listening to Mary Anne talk about school, but my mind was a million miles away. I could have been on another planet! My brain was churning, trying to come up with an explanation for what Kristy had said about Travis.

I hated to admit it, but there just weren't that many possibilities. I didn't really think that Kristy had made a mistake, because she had seemed so definite about it. She had mentioned Travis by name (and how many Travises could there be at SHS?).

Then I let my mind play a little game. Maybe there was a really farfetched reason for Travis's behavior. Maybe he was just pretending to like this girl. But why? I was stumped. Unless . . . maybe Travis wanted to join the swim team, too, and he figured one way to do it would be to date the captain. But wait a minute. Travis was a great athlete (he said so himself), so why would he need extra pull? Nothing made sense. There was no explanation for the way Travis was acting.