Disclaimer: I do not own The Babysitters Club or Baby-Sitters Little Sister. I was just browsing the section and didn't see any stories about Karen, so I decided to begin my own. Besides, I liked her books better than their older counterparts. By the way, I realize that throughout the series, Ms. Ann M. Martin made many changes concerning the characters' locations, family situations, and all that junk. I stayed with the general plot of the first, I don't know, 60 or 70 books. Also, a biggish change I made is Karen's age. In the book, she skipped kindergarten to 1st grade in the same year. I'm going to spare the inconvenience and make her the same age as everybody else. Oh, and last but not least, if you're going to review please don't flame me for the personality changes. People change between the ages of seven and thirteen after all.
***
Summary: Karen is now in eighth grade. Everything is rapidly changing around her...will she survive?
***
"Karen!"
My mind snapped back into reality.
"What?" I asked, a bit irritably. Hannie had just wrecked my train of thought. It really annoys me when people do that. Hannie obviously didn't realize how crabby I felt.
"Do you think I'll look better in this or this?" She held out two peasant tops, lavender and peach. I couldn't care less which top she picked, but I was feeling generous.
"Um...lavender." Hannie seemed disappointed at my answer.
"Really? I thought peach would blend with my skin tone better..."
"Hannie, why don't you just buy both?"
She shrugged and bought the peach one.
We walked out of Juxtapose and sat on a nearby bench. Saturday shoppers and mall kids passed us by, wondering why Hannie and I were even associating with each other. Hannie put on some lip gloss that reeked of fruit. I looked over and saw it was called Funky Strawberry-Melon. I started to wonder who in the hell came up with these flavors when Hannie spoke.
"So, how's things with Rick?"
She was reffering to my boyfriend, the guy I've been "married" to since second grade. The one I affectionally call Ricky even though he broke away from the childhood name in fifth grade. You probably don't know what I mean by "married". Well, it started when Hannie got "engaged" with our neighbor, Scott Hsu. They had a pretend marriage and Ricky and I followed their footsteps. I remember that Monday in February quite clearly.
"You know, same ol'."
"Been on any dates lately?"
"Sure, we went to the park, re-evaluated our existence, and decided to make a franchise out of sporks."
"Seriously, Karen!"
I found my joke kind of amusing, but nevertheless.
"Fine, we went to the movies last weekend."
"Really? Which one?"
"Uh, Dead Monstrosities."
"Oh, cool," she said unenthusiastically.
"How's things with Scott?" She beamed with the sound of that question.
"Great! He bought me the most beautiful necklace for our sixth anniversary. It was silver with faux topaz that totally matches my eyes..." She stared into space dreamily. "I'm going to wear it on every date and anniversary from now on," she added.
"Cool," I said in a half-interested tone.
"Has Rick ever given you anything?"
"Sure."
"What?"
"Well, gumball machine rings. I keep them in my jewelry box." Hannie's smile collapsed.
"Gumball rings?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's the thought that counts."
There was a long silence when Hannie jumped up.
"Oh my God, I better get home. I forgot that I have to help Mom with re-painting the rec room."
On the way out of the mall, I spotted Bobby Gianelli.
"Uh, Hannie, I'll see you later." She nodded her head and disappeared outside. I walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and smiled slightly.
"Hey Karen."
"Hey."
"What brings you here?"
"Shopping with Hannie."
"How fun," he sarcastically replied.
"Tons. How about you? What brings you here?"
Bobby shrugged. "You know, I have nothing better to do."
Actually, I didn't know, but I didn't say it. He spoke up.
"Well, I better get back home. My mom'll probably have a chore for me to do."
"Later," I said. And with that, he walked away, wallet chain rattling and all. It was a matter of seconds when his spiked head wasn't visible anymore.
***
I could've called Mom or Seth on a payphone for a ride, but I decided to spare the quarter and get home by foot. My feet didn't even get sore since I was so used to walking a lot. I entered our neighborhood, the little house neighborhood, and unlocked the door with a spare key.
Little house neighborhood? Well girls and boys, years ago my mom and dad got a divorce. Ever since then my little brother Andrew and I have been going back and forth. My mom and my stepfather Seth live in a little house with Rocky, a cat, and Midgie, a dog. My dad and my stepmother Elizabeth live in a mansion, or "the big house". The big house used to be brooding with kids, but three have gone to college. Sometimes I missed Charlie, Sam, and Kristy, especially Kristy. Now the only kids left were David Michael, my stepbrother, and Emily Michelle, my adopted sister. Oh, and can't forget Nannie, my stepgrandmother, Shannon, David Michael's dog, and Boo Boo, Dad's old cat.
Anyway, I came in to find Mom sitting on her armchair reading some Patricia Cornwell novel. She looked like she was ready to tear up. She looked up and murmured a hello.
"Must be a real page turner."
"Oh, I'm sorry dear." She placed the novel on the coffee table. "How was the mall?"
"Nothing new, just Hannie buying some clothes for school."
"Did you buy anything?" I nodded and pulled out a copy of Jane Eyre. She looked as if I had just pulled out a dead hamster.
"Isn't that a little...mature for you?" I laughed in my head. Most mothers would've been impressed with their child's advanced taste in classic literature, but not my mom. She probably wanted to force-feed me Patricia Cornwell in large doses.
"I'm sorry, would you rather have me buy Sweet Valley High?"
"Karen," she said sternly.
"Mom," I said just as sternly.
I sensed some tension between us and continued up to my room. Don't get me wrong, I respect and love my mom, but sometimes I wish she would keep her head in her novels and let me be. When I started wearing black blazers, skirts, combat boots, and thriftshop ties, my mom looked as if she wanted to shove a Delia*s catalog down my throat. I overheard her and her best friend Pam talking about me once.
Pam: Karen has a unique style.
Mom: Yes, it's been going on since fifth grade. Wacky, isn't it?
Pam: Lisa, if it were my Felicia, I'd take some action.
Felicia's her daughter, fifteen or sixteen I think. She's not very bright. She thinks J.D. Salinger is a brand of paint.
Mom: Action?
Pam: Drastic change in dress can lead to bad things.
Mom: Don't be silly, Pam!
Her defence didn't sound very convincing though. After that she tried buying me pink monogrammed blouses and navy blue pleated skirts. What do I look like? Laverne?
I set Jane Eyre on my bureau and turned on the old computer Seth gave me for my twelth birthday. I opened up Outlook Express and decided to e-mail my faraway friends, Amanda Delaney and Druscilla Porter. Amanda used to live in my dad's neighborhood. One of my friends, Melody Korman, lives there now. She's kind of arrogant and selfish, but she can be nice when she wants to. Hannie hates her. Druscilla's my next door neighbor, Mrs. Porter's granddaughter. I used to think they were witches. I even had a witch name for Mrs. Porter: Morbidda Destiny. I guess I was a bit impressionable as a child. My first e-mail was for Amanda.
To: AmandaGurl135@attbi.com
From: 1stMusketeer@attbi.com
Hey Amanda,
How are you? I'm doing fine. I just got home from the mall. Things have been pretty boring around Stoneybrook lately. I'm starting eighth grade soon. I don't know how I really feel about it. What about you? Are you excited for ninth grade?
-Karen
I pressed send. After that I opened up a new e-mail.
To: Druscilla889@attbi.com
From: 1stMusketeer@attbi.com
Hey Druscilla,
I went on and typed up pretty much the same thing I did for Amanda. I took off my glasses and cleaned them with my skirt. They were a big improvement on my old pink and blue glasses. Now they were fifties-esque black frames: one for all the time and one for reading. I put them back on and refreshed my mailbox. There was a new one from Anon909.
"Bobby," I mouthed.
***
I hope that didn't suck too much. Well, review if you like.
***
Summary: Karen is now in eighth grade. Everything is rapidly changing around her...will she survive?
***
"Karen!"
My mind snapped back into reality.
"What?" I asked, a bit irritably. Hannie had just wrecked my train of thought. It really annoys me when people do that. Hannie obviously didn't realize how crabby I felt.
"Do you think I'll look better in this or this?" She held out two peasant tops, lavender and peach. I couldn't care less which top she picked, but I was feeling generous.
"Um...lavender." Hannie seemed disappointed at my answer.
"Really? I thought peach would blend with my skin tone better..."
"Hannie, why don't you just buy both?"
She shrugged and bought the peach one.
We walked out of Juxtapose and sat on a nearby bench. Saturday shoppers and mall kids passed us by, wondering why Hannie and I were even associating with each other. Hannie put on some lip gloss that reeked of fruit. I looked over and saw it was called Funky Strawberry-Melon. I started to wonder who in the hell came up with these flavors when Hannie spoke.
"So, how's things with Rick?"
She was reffering to my boyfriend, the guy I've been "married" to since second grade. The one I affectionally call Ricky even though he broke away from the childhood name in fifth grade. You probably don't know what I mean by "married". Well, it started when Hannie got "engaged" with our neighbor, Scott Hsu. They had a pretend marriage and Ricky and I followed their footsteps. I remember that Monday in February quite clearly.
"You know, same ol'."
"Been on any dates lately?"
"Sure, we went to the park, re-evaluated our existence, and decided to make a franchise out of sporks."
"Seriously, Karen!"
I found my joke kind of amusing, but nevertheless.
"Fine, we went to the movies last weekend."
"Really? Which one?"
"Uh, Dead Monstrosities."
"Oh, cool," she said unenthusiastically.
"How's things with Scott?" She beamed with the sound of that question.
"Great! He bought me the most beautiful necklace for our sixth anniversary. It was silver with faux topaz that totally matches my eyes..." She stared into space dreamily. "I'm going to wear it on every date and anniversary from now on," she added.
"Cool," I said in a half-interested tone.
"Has Rick ever given you anything?"
"Sure."
"What?"
"Well, gumball machine rings. I keep them in my jewelry box." Hannie's smile collapsed.
"Gumball rings?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's the thought that counts."
There was a long silence when Hannie jumped up.
"Oh my God, I better get home. I forgot that I have to help Mom with re-painting the rec room."
On the way out of the mall, I spotted Bobby Gianelli.
"Uh, Hannie, I'll see you later." She nodded her head and disappeared outside. I walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and smiled slightly.
"Hey Karen."
"Hey."
"What brings you here?"
"Shopping with Hannie."
"How fun," he sarcastically replied.
"Tons. How about you? What brings you here?"
Bobby shrugged. "You know, I have nothing better to do."
Actually, I didn't know, but I didn't say it. He spoke up.
"Well, I better get back home. My mom'll probably have a chore for me to do."
"Later," I said. And with that, he walked away, wallet chain rattling and all. It was a matter of seconds when his spiked head wasn't visible anymore.
***
I could've called Mom or Seth on a payphone for a ride, but I decided to spare the quarter and get home by foot. My feet didn't even get sore since I was so used to walking a lot. I entered our neighborhood, the little house neighborhood, and unlocked the door with a spare key.
Little house neighborhood? Well girls and boys, years ago my mom and dad got a divorce. Ever since then my little brother Andrew and I have been going back and forth. My mom and my stepfather Seth live in a little house with Rocky, a cat, and Midgie, a dog. My dad and my stepmother Elizabeth live in a mansion, or "the big house". The big house used to be brooding with kids, but three have gone to college. Sometimes I missed Charlie, Sam, and Kristy, especially Kristy. Now the only kids left were David Michael, my stepbrother, and Emily Michelle, my adopted sister. Oh, and can't forget Nannie, my stepgrandmother, Shannon, David Michael's dog, and Boo Boo, Dad's old cat.
Anyway, I came in to find Mom sitting on her armchair reading some Patricia Cornwell novel. She looked like she was ready to tear up. She looked up and murmured a hello.
"Must be a real page turner."
"Oh, I'm sorry dear." She placed the novel on the coffee table. "How was the mall?"
"Nothing new, just Hannie buying some clothes for school."
"Did you buy anything?" I nodded and pulled out a copy of Jane Eyre. She looked as if I had just pulled out a dead hamster.
"Isn't that a little...mature for you?" I laughed in my head. Most mothers would've been impressed with their child's advanced taste in classic literature, but not my mom. She probably wanted to force-feed me Patricia Cornwell in large doses.
"I'm sorry, would you rather have me buy Sweet Valley High?"
"Karen," she said sternly.
"Mom," I said just as sternly.
I sensed some tension between us and continued up to my room. Don't get me wrong, I respect and love my mom, but sometimes I wish she would keep her head in her novels and let me be. When I started wearing black blazers, skirts, combat boots, and thriftshop ties, my mom looked as if she wanted to shove a Delia*s catalog down my throat. I overheard her and her best friend Pam talking about me once.
Pam: Karen has a unique style.
Mom: Yes, it's been going on since fifth grade. Wacky, isn't it?
Pam: Lisa, if it were my Felicia, I'd take some action.
Felicia's her daughter, fifteen or sixteen I think. She's not very bright. She thinks J.D. Salinger is a brand of paint.
Mom: Action?
Pam: Drastic change in dress can lead to bad things.
Mom: Don't be silly, Pam!
Her defence didn't sound very convincing though. After that she tried buying me pink monogrammed blouses and navy blue pleated skirts. What do I look like? Laverne?
I set Jane Eyre on my bureau and turned on the old computer Seth gave me for my twelth birthday. I opened up Outlook Express and decided to e-mail my faraway friends, Amanda Delaney and Druscilla Porter. Amanda used to live in my dad's neighborhood. One of my friends, Melody Korman, lives there now. She's kind of arrogant and selfish, but she can be nice when she wants to. Hannie hates her. Druscilla's my next door neighbor, Mrs. Porter's granddaughter. I used to think they were witches. I even had a witch name for Mrs. Porter: Morbidda Destiny. I guess I was a bit impressionable as a child. My first e-mail was for Amanda.
To: AmandaGurl135@attbi.com
From: 1stMusketeer@attbi.com
Hey Amanda,
How are you? I'm doing fine. I just got home from the mall. Things have been pretty boring around Stoneybrook lately. I'm starting eighth grade soon. I don't know how I really feel about it. What about you? Are you excited for ninth grade?
-Karen
I pressed send. After that I opened up a new e-mail.
To: Druscilla889@attbi.com
From: 1stMusketeer@attbi.com
Hey Druscilla,
I went on and typed up pretty much the same thing I did for Amanda. I took off my glasses and cleaned them with my skirt. They were a big improvement on my old pink and blue glasses. Now they were fifties-esque black frames: one for all the time and one for reading. I put them back on and refreshed my mailbox. There was a new one from Anon909.
"Bobby," I mouthed.
***
I hope that didn't suck too much. Well, review if you like.