Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 030

You're probably wondering why I wasn't saying anything. It was because I was too surprised. I'd never heard the twins argue this badly before. They used to be nuisances to baby-sitters. They used to play tricks and confuse people, but they were always in on things together - even when they wanted desperately to be considered individuals. This was something new.

Then, before I could stop them, Marilyn and Carolyn (practically in the same breath) shouted, "I'm going to my room!" They made a dash for the stairs, reached them at the same time, and struggled up them side by side, elbowing each other all the way.

At last I came to my senses. "Watch out, you two. Somebody's going to get hurt." "I don't care!" the twins said together, as I dashed up the stairs after them. 1 was right on their heels, which was a good thing, because Carolyn reached their bedroom just a few steps ahead of Marilyn and tried to close the door in her face. Since I'm taller than the girls, I thrust my hands above Marilyn's head and held the door open.

Carolyn stomped to her bed and flopped onto it.

Marilyn stomped to her bed and flopped onto it.

Both of them faced the wall.

"Now listen, you guys," I said. "I need to know what's going on." "Nothing," they replied for the second time that day.

"This is not 'nothing/ " I told them. "I want the truth." There was a moment of silence. Then Marilyn said, "Carolyn's always going off and leaving me alone. She never plays with me anymore." "Marilyn is always invading on me," Carolyn replied. "Or she used to. She never left me alone. And she bossed my friends around. So I stopped letting her come places with me." (Both girls were still talking to the walls.) "Besides," Marilyn went on, "Mommy likes Carolyn better because she has so many friends and she's so smart." "And," said Carolyn, "Daddy likes Marilyn better because she can play the piano and she gets to be in recitals and last week she won an award." I sighed. "You know what?" I said to the girls. "You are two different people now. You have different friends. You can't expect everyone to treat you the same anymore. Besides, your parents still love you both as much as ever." Slowly Marilyn and Carolyn turned around. They looked at each other, but they didn't have the big emotional scene I'd been hoping for. I wanted them to hop off their beds, meet in the middle of their room, hug, cry, and apologize.

Instead, Marilyn said, "Well, if I'm so different from Carolyn, then I don't want her sharing my room." Before Carolyn could even say, "It isn't your room, it's ours," which I knew she was going to do, Marilyn had marched to her desk, opened a drawer, and taken out a roll of masking tape. Then she stepped over to the window, which was in the middle of the room, placed the end of the tape on the exact center of the window, and ran the tape down the sill to the floor and across the rug to the opposite wall.

"There," she said. "This half is mine. That half is yours. No crossing the line, get it?" I stood in the doorway and waited to see what would happen.

Carolyn smiled. "Got it. But how are you going to leave the room? The door's on my side of the tape. You're stuck in here." Marilyn blushed, embarrassed. But then her face brightened. "I think you've got a bigger problem," she said. "The closet is on my side of the tape. You'll have to wear the clothes you've got on for the rest of your life." I almost smiled. That would be a tragedy for Carolyn, since she'd become so fashion conscious. It would kill her to wear the same clothes two days in a row, let alone the rest of her life.

"Okay, talk it out," I told the girls, leaning against the door jamb with my arms crossed. "You're old enough to figure out a compromise." "No," said Marilyn.

"No," said Carolyn.

"No?" I repeated.

"I'm not talking to her," they said at the same time, each pointing to the other. Then they turned their backs and faced the walls again.

I was aghast. I'd always wanted a brother or a sister, especially a sister. And I'd thought it would be extra nice to have a twin sister. I had pictured ourselves sharing clothes, and talking late into the night (since we'd be happily sharing a room, of course). When we were younger we'd talk about imaginary things and what might be hiding under our beds. When we were older we'd talk about movies and our friends. When we were even older, we'd talk about boys and our parents.

Why, I wondered, couldn't Marilyn and Carolyn get along?

I stopped my wondering quickly, though. Mrs. Arnold would be home soon and I didn't want her to see the masking-tape divider down the center of the room. I asked Marilyn please to take it down.

She did - grumpily.

Once again I left two angry girls behind when I went home.

Chapter 8.

I was so excited! It was the night of Dawn's mother's birthday dinner. Everything was planned, and Dad and Dawn and I sure hoped the surprise (actually surprises) would go off without any problems.

Mrs. Schafer's actual birthday was the next day, so she hadn't minded when this business associate of hers (who's also a friend of Dad's) had called and asked her out to dinner to discuss some work stuff. He said he would make a reservation in his name for two people at seven o'clock at Chez Maurice. Then he called and he did make a reservation, only it was for four people. Dad planned to drive Dawn and me to the restaurant (Dawn having told her mom that she was going to eat dinner with us again, which was not technically a lie), so that we would arrive by 6:45. Then Dad would say to the maitre d', "Hi, we're part of the Humboldt party. We're a little early. But could we be seated now anyway?" Then when Mrs. Schafer arrived, she'd say, "Hi, I'm with the Humboldt party," and the maitre d' would lead her to our table! Mr. Humboldt would never show up, of course.

That was how the evening would start - we hoped - and we had other things planned, too.

The surprise dinner was held on a Friday night, and Dawn and I were so excited all day that we couldn't think of anything except the dinner. At lunchtime, Dawn said, "Are you baby-sitting this afternoon, Mary Anne?" "Nope," I replied. "Why?" "Oh, good. I'm not, either. So I was thinking - after school we'll change into our going-out-to-dinner clothes. We'll wear them to the BSC meeting, and when the meeting is over, we can run right across the street to your house and be ready to go out for dinner. Your dad won't have to pick me up or anything." Kristy rolled her eyes. I could hardly blame her. Dawn and I had been talking about the surprise dinner nonstop. But, well, it was awfully exciting.

And I had finally found a present for Mrs.

Schafer. I'd bought it with some of my babysitting money. It was jewelry, but it was not a cat. It was a charm that was a replica of the Stoneybrook High School ring. Kristy's brother Charlie had gotten it for me at the SHS store, where they sell school supplies and T-shirts and things like that. I thought Mrs. Schafer could wear it on a chain around her neck. I'd chosen it because I knew that years ago, when she and my father went to SHS, Dad hadn't been able to afford a school ring for either of them, so Mrs. Schafer had never gotten one. I figured the present would be full of meaning.

On Friday, for one of the very few times ever, Dawn and I could not wait for the BSC meeting to end. When it finally did, we felt just as if we'd slogged through another day at school. Claudia's digital clock flipped to six - and we were out of there! " 'Bye, you guys!" we called over our shoulders as we tore down the Kishis' hallway and out the front door. Then we dashed across the street to my house.

Dad was already there. He'd come home early, and he greeted us at the door.

"Don't you two look nice," he said.

We grinned. "Thanks," I replied.

Dawn was wearing a flowered dress from the Laura Ashley store out at Washington Mall, and flat blue shoes. It was a rather un-Dawn outfit, but she looked very grown-up - and beautiful with all that long hair. I was wearing a green skirt and a baggy sweater with big, colorful flowers splashed over it, and beads in the centers of the flowers. Both of us had sat stiffly through the club meeting so as not to crush or wrinkle anything.