The Baby-Sitters Club Friends Forever #3: Mary Anne’s Big Break-up (3 page)

horrible butterflies in my stomach. The first thing I thought about was al those big kids we’d seen last week. Then I spent about half an hour choosing an outfit, and

in the end I wore…jeans and a T-shirt. How original.

I met Sunny and Maggie as usual. Sunny looked nervous but excited, and

even a little proud. Maggie was biting her nails. The first thing she said to us was,

“Do you guys know what hazing is?”

“Hazing?” Sunny repeated.

“I guess,” I replied. “Why?”

“Do you think the upperclassmen are going to do anything to us?” Maggie

asked, thumbnail in her mouth.

“Well – “ I started to say.

“Because you know they get to haze the freshmen on the first day of

school. But the first day of school is over, and we aren’t freshmen. Technically.”

“We’re subfreshmen,” said Sunny. “Sort of like bacteria.”

“I wonder what they’re going to do to us,” I said.

As it turned out, not much.

You know what? I’m on a rol , but my hand is about to fall off from so much

writing. Plus, I have a lot of homework. I have to stop now. I’l pick up later.

Tuesday night 9/30

When I said “later”, I meant later that day, not 28 hours later. But here it is,

Tuesday night. I haven’t even finished my homework. Still, I really need my

journal. I have so much to say.

Okay, there were a few little hazing incidents, but not many. The teachers

had put out the word that it was not the first day of school, that classes were in full swing, and that basically this was supposed to be just another day. So we

were kind of off the hook.

One eighth-grader got lipsticked. The funny thing is that on the first day of

school, the upperclassmen get to mark the letter F on the foreheads of the

freshmen with red lipsticks, but since we aren’t exactly freshmen, this guy put an 8 on the kid’s forehead.

Another kid’s wallet was taken during gym class. (That may or may not

have been hazing.) Two girls, at separate time, were given directions to the boys’

locker room when they asked where the library was. Stuff like that. So al in all, we made it through our first day of high school without much of anything

happening. Mostly, I just kept noticing the older kids, now that I could see them

up close, I mean. I felt like I was a naturalist in the wild and for years I’d been studying the goril as from afar. But now, suddenly, I was living among them.

“There are some very cute guys,” Maggie said at the end of that first day.

Her fingernails were bitten down to little nubs, but otherwise she looked pretty

good. “I mean, some very cute older guys. Do any of you know who Justin

Randal is?” Her eyes took on this faraway look.

“No,” said Jill.

“Is he a junior?” I asked.

“Yes, he is,” said Sunny. “And Maggie, he’s already taken. Every girl in

school has a crush on him. Pick someone easier.”

Maggie just shrugged. Then grinned. Sunny and I grinned back. Maggie’s

smile was contagious.

Except to Jill, who must have developed an immunity.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

It was Jill’s turn to shrug. But, unlike Maggie, she looked miserable.

“Well, anyway, we al made it,” I said cheerfully.

Day One was over.

Later Tuesday night 9/30

Day One was over at school, but not at home.

Dad returned from the office at about four and packed two suitcases.

Carol came home at 4:30, which meant she had left her office early. The next

hour was hectic. Mrs. Bruen was still there, trying to finish making dinner before she left for the evening. I was trying to tel Dad about school, Jeff was trying to tell him about a problem with his soccer coach, Carol was trying to ask him

questions about the next ten days, and Dad was trying to tel all of us about the

next ten days but kept being interrupted by his boss, who phoned him four times.

Carol seemed really nervous about something. She wanted to drive Dad

to the airport by herself, but Jeff and I insisted on coming along, so Dad said we could. Carol did not look happy. Stil , after Dad’s plane had taken off, she turned to Jeff and me, smiling, and said we were going to have a great ten days

together. I tried to feel convinced.

Wednesday afternoon 10/1

What happened today was so embarrassing I can barely bring myself to

write about it. Just thinking about it now makes me flush. Honest. I can feel my

cheeks getting hot. And the thing is, it real y didn’t have to blow up into such an incident. Mandy Richards is a pain in the butt.

Okay, al us eighth-graders have new lockers, right? We’re in the new

building, so of course we do. And the new building (new to us, I mean) is

confusing. I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Anyway, my new locker number is

106B. It’s number 106 in the B wing. It’s a pretty good locker. I haven’t had any

trouble opening it. But yesterday after lunch I just could not get it open. I kept turning the dial and nothing would happen. Final y I found the piece of paper from the main office with my combination on it. I checked it. I was using the right

combination. So I tried it again. Nothing.

I tried it for like the eighth time.

Nothing.

And then I whammed it with my fist. Sometimes that would unstick my old

locker. It didn’t unstick this one. So I whammed it two more times and then I

kicked it.

“Excuse me,” said this really snitty voice from behind me.

I turned around. A girl was standing there. She looked like a junior or

maybe a senior.

“Oh. Sorry I was making so much noise,” I said.

“Me too,” she said. “Since you’re making it on my locker.”

“Your locker?”

The girl rolled her eyes. Then she shoved me aside.

“Mandy?” someone called. Two other girls were hurrying toward us. They

stopped at the locker.

“This jerk,” said Mandy, pointing at me, “was trying to break into my locker.

Can you believe it?”

“I was not trying to break in!” I exclaimed. “I thought it was my locker. Isn’t

it number 106B?”

“No. It is not 106B,” said Mandy. “It is 106D.”

I peered at the faded number on the locker. Sure enough.

“What an actress,” said one of the other girls. Then she turned to Mandy.

“See if she got anything. Is anything missing?”

Mandy wrestled the door open. “No.” She paused. Then she glared at me.

“But thanks a lot for breaking my mirror.”

I could see where Mandy had fastened a makeup mirror to the inside of

her door. (A fancy nameplate over the mirror said MANDY RICHARDS, which is

how I know her name.) My whamming had caused the mirror to fal off of its nail.

Now it lay on the floor of the locker in a million pieces.

“Oops,” I said.

The three girls were looking at me like I had three heads. I mean, really,

they were so condescending and snotty.

“I’ll buy you another mirror,” I said quickly. “Here.” I opened my purse to

get out some money. And inside (this is the part I can hardly bear to think about).

I found a fuzzy toy puppy. A note was attached to its tail. It could only have been from Jill. Some sort of surprise she’d planted for me.

“What is that?” exclaimed Mandy.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Mandy took the puppy out of my purse and held it between her thumb and

forefinger. Her friends started to laugh.

“No need to pay for the mirror,” said Mandy. “I’l take this instead.”

“You – “ I started to say. I paused. “Don’t you ever put your hand in my

purse again. That is private.”

Mandy frowned. Then she stepped forward, but suddenly one of her

friends grabbed her and jerked her back.

“Don’t, Mandy,” she said.

And Mandy didn’t do whatever it was she’d started to do, but her eyes

were flashing. Luckily, the other girl distracted her. She pulled the note off the tail, opened it, and read it aloud. “ ‘Here is a little good-luck friend for you’,” she read.

She glanced at Mandy. “A good-luck friend?” She looked back at the note. “

’Keep it with you always. Your puppy pal, Jill’.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and ran down the hal .

Believe me, I have truly never been so embarrassed. Not in my whole life.

Of course, since then I’ve seen Mandy and her friends about a hundred

times, and they always snicker and call me Puppy Pal. (Mandy’s snicker is

accompanied by those flashing eyes of hers.)

I think I am going to kill them. After that, I will kil Jill.

Later Wednesday night 10/1

At last a moment of peace. I think I’m the only one who’s awake in our

house right now. Jeff went to bed almost two hours ago, and Carol has been in

her room for about an hour. I just saw the light disappear from the crack under

her door. She might be watching TV in bed, but I don’t think so. Carol was

exhausted tonight. Plus, she kept harping on me about homework, which I don’t

have. But she didn’t believe me. “It’s the beginning of the year,” she said. “You

should have a ton of homework right now.”

The thing is, she was right. But the teachers haven’t been giving us much

work, I think they’ve been crazed this year, spending al their time dealing with

new students. But did I say this to Carol? No, I just got al defensive, like I usually do with her. I said, “If I had homework, don’t you think I’d be doing it?”

“Dawn,” she said warningly.

“You’re always picking on me.” (Carol just looked at me.) “Wel , you are!”

“I am not picking,” Carol said in this staccato voice. And then she

marched into her room. She doesn’t understand me, and I don’t understand her.

Thursday afternoon 10/2

It’s a quiet time, and I’m home alone. Carol and Jeff and Mrs. Bruen are all

out together. Carol decided Jeff needs new school clothes, and instead of being

thril ed at the prospect of shopping, Jeff threw a fit. He said he doesn’t need

anything new, that all his ripped jeans and too-tight shirts are fine. Now, it’s true that you can wear just about anything you want at Vista, but honestly. Jeff looks

awfully raggedy some days. Anyway, he said Carol has no idea what fifth-grade

boys wear, which is probably also true, so he insisted that Mrs. Bruen go along,

since she’s known him for so long. I think the whole thing is a mistake.

Wait – the phone is ring

The phone call was from Mary Anne. I miss my stepsister, but you know

what? This is a terrible thing to write. However, since no one but me ever reads

my journals I know I can say it safely – I don’t miss Mary Anne or my other

Connecticut friends as much as I thought I would. I mean, I love them and I miss

them and everything, and I’m glad the custody arrangements are for Mom to

have Jeff and me in Connecticut for vacations and in the summer. But my friends

do seem far away, as far as Stoneybrook is from Palo City.

Well, I was going to continue writing but Jeff and Carol and Mrs. Bruen just

came back. They haven’t even been gone an hour. This is not a good sign.

Thursday night 10/2

Boy, did Jeff make a scene this afternoon. He probably already wrote

about it in his journal. And I have a pretty good idea what his entry looks like. Jeff is not very concerned with privacy. He leaves his journals everywhere. Once he

saw me reading his (he had left it open right out on the coffee table in the living room), and he didn’t even care. It was full of paragraphs like this:

I HATE DAWN SHE IS SO STUPID. I DO NOT EVEN WANT TO PLAY

WITH HER OR HER STUPID FREINDS WHO NEEDS SISTERS. I WISH I WAS

A ONLY CHILD

Anyway, I still do not know exactly what went on during the shopping trip,

only that a total of one pair of tube socks was purchased. And then everyone

came home in a foul mood. I could have asked what happened and someone

would have told me, but I didn’t really want to stir things up again. Besides, I can figure out what happened. A ten-year-old boy went clothes shopping with his

stepmother and his housekeeper. Period.

I’ve been thinking. This afternoon Mary Anne asked me about the We ♥

Kids Club. And you know what? I’m a little confused about it, just like I’m a little confused about a lot of things right now. Okay. So the We ♥ Kids Club was never

as organized a sitting business as the Baby-sitters Club is. We never held regular meetings or assigned officers like the BSC did when was in Connecticut. We

tried to do that once, and it lasted al of about three weeks. Sunny and Maggie

and Jill and I simply decided that baby-sitting is important to us, not officers and meetings. So in our haphazard way we got sitting jobs and we carried them out

and we had fun. But lately we hardly meet at al . And you know something? Just

like I don’t miss Connecticut too much, I don’t miss baby-sitting all that much

either. I wonder why. And I wonder why my friends and I haven’t been getting

together so often. I mean, getting together for meetings. We get together to do

other things all the time. We’re always hanging out. Not so much at Sunny’s

anymore because of her mom. And not so much at Jil ’s anymore because of…

well, because of Jill. Sometimes we hang out at my house or at Maggie’s spread.

More often we go to the movies, or shop, or stand around at the mall eyeing cute

guys. (Girls always think boys so rudely check out girls. Well, girls check our

guys al the time.) What is happening to baby-sitting and the We ♥ Kids Club?

You know what? Jill would love to continue the meetings and baby-sitting.

That sort of goes along with her idea of hanging out, which includes cookie-