Author's Note: We all have ideas about what the girls from the Baby-Sitters Club were like in high school. This story is who I think they became. I hope you enjoy it

Disclaimer: These characters belong to the talented Ann M. Martin

I did not move across the country for a guy.

That isn't something I do. It isn't the action of a girl like me. Casual. Independant. Moving across the country for a guy is the action of Boy Crazy Stacey or Mary Anne the romantic. My passion isn't found in the opposite sex. It's found in causes. I fight for animal rights and saving the environment.

Like all of my greatest decisions, the idea to move back to Connecticut happened on a whim. Dad and I were drinking smoothies at the kitchen table. The fresh strawberries tasted like home. And like that, the icy strawberries and bananas still lingering in my mouth, I said the words I'd repeated time and time again over the years.

"I want to move back to Connecticut."

Connecticut, California. California, Connecticut.

Back and forth.

It seemed I had stopped moving once high school hit. I went back to Connecticut for the holidays once or twice, but then things changed. Mom and Mary Anne started taking family trips. Jeff and I flew out to meet them. A winter wonderland in Aspen. Spring Break in San Francisco. Sometimes Richard came, sometimes he worked. We became a family on those vacations. Mary Anne and I stayed up late. She told me about Logan and her life in Stoneybrook. I told her about my crusades at school. The protests Sunny and I organized. Mom called both of us her "daughters" and it felt right.

It wasn't sunshine and salt water, but it was nice.

I didn't say these things to dad. How could I?

I told him about the reputation of Stoneybrook high school. I pleaded the case of the bicoastal teen. College admissions teams would be intrigued by a Connecticut teen who wanted to study Environmental Studies.

I think Jeff was the sorriest to see me go, but he understood the lure of Stoneybrook. It was a time capsule to simpler times.

"Maybe," he said, "we'll actually have a Connecticut Thanksgiving this year."

Tofurkey in Connecticut?

I had to laugh.

Before I left, I sent a single letter.

I only arrived in Connecticut two days before the start of school. The school year starts a lot earlier on the East Coast than it does in California. Mom met me at the airport, and then I slept. My clothes were still in suitcases. Tigger curled up inside of an open suitcase, his fur getting all over my sundresses. I wouldn't be wearing sundresses for a while. I had forgotten how crisp the air was in Connecticut.

I was up early for my first day of school. Two days of sleep was the secret to outsmarting jetlag. You learn a few things when you're a bicoastal kid. I took a long shower...long for me. Quick showers are one of the key things we can do to conserve water. Still, long hair needs to be washed, and the first day of school is a fashion show on every coast. I wondered, not for the first time, about the friends I hadn't seen in years. I only saw them through Mary Anne's memories. Through her words and her photos. Would they be happy to see me?

I missed Sunny.

Getting dressed was easy. Faded jeans that hung low on my hips. An off-white peasant top that looked creamy against my California tan. I put on a peace sign necklace, smiling as I remembered my "I'm awesome" necklace. I slipped on my Birkenstocks and let my hair air dry. I went into the kitchen for breakfast.

Richard was the only one awake. He was putting some papers in his briefcase, preparing to leave for the day. A steaming thermos of coffee sat on the table beside him. I could smell an unfamiliar aroma in the kitchen.

Bacon.

"You're up early." Richard's version of good morning.

"I like breakfast."

"I would have made you some eggs," he paused, "do you eat eggs?"

I looked in the kitchen and saw the dirty dishes. Richard had only cooked for one. There was a half pot of coffee waiting for my sister. Mom would sleep in. She worked part time these days.

"Sometimes," I opened the fridge and poked around, "but I think I'll go for scrambled tofu this morning."

The look of horror on his face was priceless.

He wished me luck on my first day of school, and gave me an awkward hug. I like Richard, but I was glad when he left. I needed a few moments of privacy. Cooking could be a form of meditation. I thought about my herb garden back home as I chopped some veggies. I would have to find a farmer's market and turn a small piece of this kitchen into my own. I ignored the pot of coffee in lieu of some green tea with lemon.

I was nearly finished with my breakfast, when Mary Anne appeared in the kitchen. I expected a rush of motion, but that would never describe my sister. She poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. She sat across from me and smiled.

Once upon a time, Mary Anne's breakfast would be as extravagant as Richard's. Eggs and bacon. Toast and butter. Then, sometime around tenth grade, puberty hit Mary Anne with a vengeance. She was short with curves. She didn't have the metabolism of Claudia or the athletic drive of Kristy. She turned to my mom for eating tips and took to calorie counting. She was opening an organizer while she ate, writing "yogurt and coffee" in her neat handwriting.

"Would you like a smoothie?" I offered. Mary Anne looked down at her watch and shook her head.

"We have to leave in nine minutes. Are you ready?"

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. After speaking, I realized that Mary Anne was not asking about my emotional state. She simply didn't want to be late to school. "I just have to fix my hair," I promised. I quickly braided my still damp hair into a loose braid. I didn't tie it at the end; it simply hung down my back.

"Will you be cold?" Mary Anne asked, pouring some coffee into a yellow thermos. She didn't add any creamer or sugar.

I reviewed Mary Anne's outfit. After all these years, her clothes weren't too far off from what she wore a child. Her plaid skirt was pale blue and white. It fell a bit above her knees. High enough to be trendy, but low enough to be tasteful. Her sweater was pale blue with a v neck. A white collared shirt peeked out from beneath the sweater. Her white mary janes had a small heal. She wore a simple silver ring on her left ring finger, a present from Logan. Her dark brown hair was no longer in pigtails or cut short. She grew out her hair until it became a classic bob, falling just around her chin. A pale blue headband rested in her hair.

No one would dress like this in California. In California, the preppy look was tinged with irony. The skirts too short. The sweaters too tight. Mary Anne was the picture of sincerity. Even her makeup was impeccable. If I was California Casual, Mary Anne was Stoneybrook Serious.

"I'll be fine," I assured her. Still, I threw a Disneyland sweatshirt into my backpack. Also, at the last minute, I grabbed a thin silver bangle bracelet.

As I slipped the bracelet on, I felt my heart skip a beat.

"I saw this and thought of you."

The bracelet was hot from the sun as he slipped it onto my wrist. He ran his fingers over my arm. Goosebumps raced over my skin. I looked away from the bracelet and fell into his eyes. They were the color of a tiger's eye. Brown and bright, with shimmers of amber.

Our drive to school was uneventful. Richard had given Mary Anne a car for her sixteenth birthday. It was reliable and safe. She was only to drive it within Stoneybrook city limits. The driver's seat was pushed forward, and Mary Anne hunched over the steering wheel as she drove. She never went over the speed limit and stopped for every yellow light. We arrived at school almost half an hour early. Mary Anne parked next to a red BMW convertible. The license had New York plates.

I knew exactly who it belonged to.

Mary Anne and I gathered our bags and walked toward the school. It was an odd sensation. My old high school was outdoors. We never had snow days in California. Stoneybrook High was indoors. It looked like any high school that you would see in any movie. It felt unfamiliar and cold.

"Dawn!" A heard my name in the distance and turned. A blur of color ran in our direction and threw her arms around me.

Claudia.

She pulled away and looked me over, her dark brown eyes shining with warmth. She was the same old Claudia. She wore a short hot pink skirt over neon yellow leggings. Her top was a white sweatshirt, cut to reveal her shoulders. In hot pink writing, the sweatshirt said "Art Rulz!" On her feet, she wore white sneakers covered with hot pink hearts. White heart earrings were in one ear, and a yellow paintbrush earring was in the other. She had chunky pink highlights in her black hair. I wondered what came first, the outfit or the hair. In her nose, there sat a small ring.

Trust Claudia to get a nose ring.

"We were so thrilled to hear you were coming back," another voice said. Stacey. She sounded less New York than I remembered, and a little more Connecticut. In my mind we were the two blondes, but I was amazed to realize how dark her hair really looked. It was blonde, yes, but a rich golden blonde. Her hair was the color of honey. She still wore her hair in big curls, though I suspected she had outgrown the perms. Stacey was classically Stacey, the only girl I knew who would wear a little black dress to school. Her earrings were diamonds and her lips were red. She was thin, and I briefly considering inquiring about her health.

"Why did you come back again?" A third voice, blunt as ever, asked. Kristy may have been the one to change the most. Not physically, she never developed the curves of Mary Anne or my height. However she no longer wore jeans or turtlenecks. Her new uniform consisted of slacks and button down tops. She favored low ponytails and even wore a bit of mascara. Some things though, never changed. She was the shortest of the group and somehow the most intimidating

Why did I move back?

"I missed you guys!" I replied to Kristy, giving each girl a hug. We linked arms and walked into school together.

Yes, I moved back to Connecticut for my family. I moved back to improve my grades. I moved back because I was going stir crazy.

I glanced down at my silver bracelet.

I did not move across the country for a guy.