"I'm sorry for your loss."
The words echoed again and again through the church as figures symbolically clad in black moved slowly, despondently. Sunlight peering through the opulent stained glass windows was stark contrast to the dark and dismal mood inside.
"I can't believe this is happening," Kristy Thomas whispered, fussing with the hem of her black lace dress. She had been a tomboy all her life, and though she had recently began making an effort to be more feminine, she wasn't used much outside of denim and cotton. Speaking of cotton, Kristy gave herself a quick mental reminder to check Craigslist for cheap uniforms for Kristy's Krushers, the Little League team she coached.
Her older brother Charlie, sitting next to her, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, squeezing the hand of his girlfriend – Janine Kishi. Janine stared straight ahead stoically. Her genius mind undoubtedly calculating something unfathomable. Meanwhile Charlie was probably lost in shallow thoughts of football and pizza. The two, a classic case of opposites attract, had been an item for well over a year.
Across the church, Kristy's other older brother, Sam, was being led to a back row pew by his girlfriend, Stacey McGill.
"Let's just sit back here," Stacey said.
"Fine by me," Sam mumbled and glanced toward Kristy, Charlie and Janine as Stacey snuggled up next to him.
Stacey and Sam had been together – officially together – for about six months. Ever since Stacey's sixteenth birthday. Lately Stacey had been considering telling Sam that she was in love with him. Maybe after the funeral, she decided with a heavy sigh, idly wondering why the word "fun" was in funeral. Funerals were most definitely not fun at all. Fun would be heading up to her beloved hometown of New York City for a much deserved shopping spree. If only she hadn't maxed out her dad's credit card and been grounded from shopping for three months.
Suddenly, her body tensed as a girl dressed in a sleeveless white button up, royal blue bow tie, black tuxedo pants, cheetah print suspenders, hot pink Doc Martens, rainbow colored giant feather earrings, an arm full of silver and gold bangle bracelets, and black fedora with a giant red carnation pinned to the brim walked by.
The unmistakable Claudia Kishi.
Claudia noticed Stacey in her peripheral vision, but chose to ignore her. It had been nearly two years since the Babysitters Club (aka BSC) had disbanded, but the wounds were still fresh. Every time Claudia saw any of the former members, her stomach felt like she had put the Pop Rocks from her sock drawer into the Cherry Coke from her art supply box and shook them up for an hour. Things had not ended well. There was bad blood amongst the ex-BSC, to say the least. And it seemed only a funeral could bring them back together.
Claudia tried to push the thoughts out of her head as she slid into a pew with her best friend, Ashley Wyeth. She had moved on in her life – away from babysitting. Away from Kristy's dictatorship. She was free now. Free to be the artist she had always wanted to be.
"Claudia," Ashley whispered, "Have you asked your parents about the summer art retreat yet?"
Claudia shook her head, getting that Pop Rock in Coke feeling again. That retreat was over $2000. No way her parents would pay for that.
Claudia's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar face taking a seat right in front of her. It was the tear-stained yet emotionally vacant face of Mary Anne Spier. By her side, a stone-faced Logan Bruno.
"Are they back together?" Claudia hissed.
"Who cares?" Ashley replied bitterly.
Mary Anne heard them. And no, she and Logan were not back together. Though it seemed to be their pattern. Breaking up, getting back together, breaking up again, getting back together again. Over and over. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Logan had seen Mary Anne outside the church, lingering, avoiding going in. He knew what was wrong. He knew things about her that no one else knew. It was probably what kept them going back to each other. The secrets. Logan had been kind enough to escort Mary Anne in. But once she was seated, he promptly returned to his girlfriend – Cokie Mason.
Mary Anne wasn't jealous. She wasn't anything. Just numb. Her life had changed dramatically since the demise of the BSC. She wasn't the same Mary Anne. She wasn't really sure who she was anymore. And now this funeral – the unexpected tragedy that had occurred – had her less sure than ever about everything.
I feel like I should be the one in that casket, she thought to herself.
"Is this seat taken?" a voice startled her out of her morose thoughts.
Mary Anne could smell the hemp and sunscreen before she even looked up. Before she saw the sun bleached hair and west coast tan, she knew.
It was Dawn Schafer. Her step-sister.
"I tried to call you to tell you I was coming," Dawn slid in next to Mary Anne, "But you didn't answer."
Mary Anne didn't reply. Dawn had moved back to California years ago. And then moved back just before the BSC broke up. It had meant the world to Mary Anne to have Dawn there as her only ally when everything else was crumbling. But then, just a few months later, Dawn decided to move back to California yet again. Mary Anne had tried to be supportive and not let her own selfish feelings get in the way, but deep down she blamed Dawn for abandoning her, thus setting into motion her downward spiral.
Dawn felt bad, too. She had tried so hard to keep in touch with Mary Anne. But Mary Anne put up a wall and became so distant. Dawn barely even recognized her anymore. Of course, sometimes Dawn didn't recognize herself either. When had people become so complicated? When had LIFE become so complicated?
Once upon a time, Stoneybrook had been a happy place. Home of the five best friends you'll ever have. But now it was a dark place with grudges and sadness. And everyone was a stranger.
Dawn started to say something else to Mary Anne, but a hush fell over the room. Dawn craned her neck to see what everyone was reacting to. First she heard the faint squeak of the turning wheels. Then she saw the shiny metal spokes as Jessi Ramsey's wheelchair rolled into the room. Jessi sat primly, almost defiantly, staring straight ahead. Jessi had once been an aspiring ballerina. But now she was wheelchair bound for life.
Dawn's blood ran cold.
Mary Anne's eyes welled up with tears.
Claudia's stomach felt like a giant knot of Twizzlers.
Stacey's perfectly permed and highlighted hair stood on end.
Kristy's unmanicured hands trembled.
The girls may have gone their separate ways, but there was one thing that would forever bind them all together. The Jessi thing. One of their deepest, darkest secrets and biggest, baddest shames. The guilt was insurmountable, even two years later.
Looking from Jessi to the casket, each girl became increasingly uneasy, their minds racing with all that had happened...wondering how things had gone so far...wallowing in the agony of what they had done.
"Family and friends," a booming voice from the pulpit began, "We are here to celebrate the life and mourn the loss of Mallory Pike..."
...
Kristy wobbled on her kitten heeled shoes as she stepped down the stairs of the church after the funeral. She couldn't wait to get home, change into her favorite Stoneybrook High sweats and slip on some Crocs. She wanted to get away from that church as quickly as possible – to not think about the BSC...or the Jessi thing...or what happened to Mallory...
As if on cue, she felt a faint buzz on her wrist. She looked at her Smartwatch. A new text.
Poor Mallory. I know what you did. Meet under the oak tree at the corner now. Or else.
...
Kristy stood under the oak tree, biting her nails. Who would send such a text? What did they know? Was it some sort of joke? Or did someone REALLY know something?
"Kristy?" an angry voice exclaimed.
"Stacey?" Kristy whirled around, confused.
"Claudia?" Stacey gaped, looking over Kristy's shoulder as Claudia approached the tree.
"Dawn? Mary Anne?" Claudia gasped in disbelief as the two approached from the other direction.
"What is going on?" Kristy demanded.
"I...I got a text," Stacey stammered, pulling her phone out of her Kate Spade clutch.
"Me, too," Claudia chimed in.
"So did I," Dawn fumed, crossing her arms.
"You, too, Mary Anne?" Kristy asked.
Mary Anne nodded weakly.
"Who sent it?" Kristy hissed.
"It's from a blocked number," Stacey pointed out, "It could be anyone."
The girls looked around, scanning the crowd for a menacing face. They saw a distraught Ben Hobart, sobbing crumpled on the church steps. They saw Cokie Mason hanging on stone-faced Logan Bruno's arm. They saw dozens of familiar and unfamiliar faces gathered around the mourning Pike family. And then they saw Jessi Ramsey, all alone, wheeling herself down the ramp at the side of the church. She paused at the bottom, looked directly at the girls for several seconds with no expression on her face. Then she turned and headed in the opposite direction.
"Do you think she -" Claudia began.
"Shh," Kristy abruptly cut her off. "We said we'd never talk about Jessi again."
"But what if she -" Claudia pressed.
"Seriously, Claudia," Kristy snapped, "Not another word."
The girls watched in silence as Jessi wheeled away.
"Hi-hi!" a voice from behind startled them all.
"Jamie Newton!" Kristy spun around to greet one of their favorite former babysitting charges. Charlotte Johanssen and Jackie Rodowsky stood on either side of him.
"Is the Babysitters Club back together?" Jamie asked hopefully.
"Oh boy!" Charlotte chimed in, her face lighting up, "We've missed you all so much!"
"Yeah!" Jackie agreed, jumping up and smacking his head on a low hanging tree branch.
"Oh...um..." Kristy stammered, "No, buddy...We're not...We're just...uh...hanging out."
"Oh." The three kids frowned in unison and sulked away, leaving their former babysitters feeling twinges of guilt. But time and space hadn't healed the wounds. History could never be undone.
No one knew what to say. But they didn't have to say anything. One by one, their phones beeped and buzzed with text message notifications. And one by one, they read a text that said it all:
The BSC must get back together or you're all going down. - B