Chapter 8
"Remember class, pages 162 and 163 for homework tonight," a stunning, slender woman called out after a crowd of buzzing eighth-graders. The final bell ran and echoed throughout the halls as Stacey McGill kicked off her strappy sandals and collapsed into the cushioned teacher's chair. Her sapphire orbs, fringed with heavy lashes, roamed over her desk, in all of its disarrayed glory, scattered with test papers, pencils, and a few math textbooks.
A sigh escaped Stacey's lips as she reached back and freed her hair from its confining twist, layers of golden perm falling around her face. She slid her purse, tucked behind the overhead projector, with her foot over to arm's length. She was meeting with the new science student teacher after school that day, because Mr. Kisiel, the real science teacher, had to leave early that day for an appointment.
Stacey rummaged through her purse, closing her hand around her favourite crimson lipstick and her cosmetic mirror. Being a math teacher didn't mean she couldn't look her best. . .and looking her best was something Stacey strived to do, prided on her 'NYC heritage'. That day it was no different, dressed in crisp black slacks, cranberry-red silk blouse, black knee-length coat that tied with tiny laces at the chest, accented with a tiny gold necklace and gold drop earrings. Stacey smoothed the lipstick over her lips, puckering up once for the mirror and then giggling. Deciding that she looked good, she reached for her purse again, and there was a knock on the door. "That must be the student teacher," Stacey said to herself. "Come in!" she cheerfully invited.
She capped her lipstick and looked up at the new student teacher. . .and froze for a minute. The young girl with elbow-length, chestnut hair stood still also. A moment of shock passed between the two.
Stacey was the first to speak. "Aaaugh!" she squealed, standing up and running, barefoot, to hug the girl. "Char! How have you been?"
Charlotte Johanssen happily hugged Stacey back. "Stacey! I've been wondering what ever happened to you. I should have known you'd become a math teacher." Charlotte pulled away with a grin.
Stacey barrelled on. "You'll be a perfect science teacher, Charlotte! Now, before we get down to business, tell me everything about your life!"
Charlotte sat down in a student's desk, brushing her long locks away from her face. A rosy blush slowly stained her cheeks as she tucked her tresses behind her ear. . .a brilliant, kalediscopic flash caught Stacey's eye.
"Char!" she cried again, grabbing for her hand. "That is some rock! You're engaged?! Who's the lucky man?"
A dreamy smile spread across Charlotte's face. "Do you remember the Pikes? Byron?"
Stacey's jaw was ajar. "I can't believe it! I never would have guessed! Congratulations!" But even through the shock that Byron Pike was marrying her former favourite sitting charge, she felt a pang of jealousy. Here she was, a successful, independant woman, congratulating a girl whom she used to baby-sit for on being engaged! Sure, Stacey had been on many dates, but no one really sparked that exhilarating feeling. She recalled when she had finally got to leave Stoneybrook, and how excited she felt, wanting to see the world and meet interesting people--gorgeous guys--but really, nothing had drastically changed. Though she wished she was in Charlotte's position, with a beautiful engagement ring on her finger, she knew that if anyone deserved to be happy for the rest of their life, it was Charlotte. And, now that she thought about it, Byron and Charlotte weren't that much of an impossible couple--they were both sweet and shy, and very loving.
"The wedding is in July, on the 17th. Do you think you could come?" Charlotte asked, eyes sparkling. "I mean, if you had the time, and. . ."
"I'd love to come, Char, really," Stacey gushed.
"Have you kept in touch with any of the others in the Baby-Sitters Club?" Charlotte asked seriously.
The question stunned Stacey for a few moments. The answer 'no' was ready to jump out of her throat. But, strangely, she felt a pang of guilt and sadness as she admitted that she hadn't. She hadn't even thought about them for the longest time. . .
"I was just wondering, because I'd love to have them attend the wedding too!" Charlotte confessed with excitement. "I can't imagine what they'd be up to now."
Stacey's brow furrowed. "Me, either. . ." she trailed off. Charlotte looked at her inquisitively.
"You miss them." She decided.
Stacey looked at Charlotte resolutely, then paused. "Yes, now that I think about it. Yes I do. . ."
There was an awkward pause before Charlotte suggested, "Maybe we should get started on this student teacher business. Fill me in on when I need to be here, what I need to bring. . ."
"Yes, yes of course," Stacey nodded, rummaging through her purse once more for the notes that Mr. Kisiel had left her. Suddenly, she had a lot to think about.
"Remember class, pages 162 and 163 for homework tonight," a stunning, slender woman called out after a crowd of buzzing eighth-graders. The final bell ran and echoed throughout the halls as Stacey McGill kicked off her strappy sandals and collapsed into the cushioned teacher's chair. Her sapphire orbs, fringed with heavy lashes, roamed over her desk, in all of its disarrayed glory, scattered with test papers, pencils, and a few math textbooks.
A sigh escaped Stacey's lips as she reached back and freed her hair from its confining twist, layers of golden perm falling around her face. She slid her purse, tucked behind the overhead projector, with her foot over to arm's length. She was meeting with the new science student teacher after school that day, because Mr. Kisiel, the real science teacher, had to leave early that day for an appointment.
Stacey rummaged through her purse, closing her hand around her favourite crimson lipstick and her cosmetic mirror. Being a math teacher didn't mean she couldn't look her best. . .and looking her best was something Stacey strived to do, prided on her 'NYC heritage'. That day it was no different, dressed in crisp black slacks, cranberry-red silk blouse, black knee-length coat that tied with tiny laces at the chest, accented with a tiny gold necklace and gold drop earrings. Stacey smoothed the lipstick over her lips, puckering up once for the mirror and then giggling. Deciding that she looked good, she reached for her purse again, and there was a knock on the door. "That must be the student teacher," Stacey said to herself. "Come in!" she cheerfully invited.
She capped her lipstick and looked up at the new student teacher. . .and froze for a minute. The young girl with elbow-length, chestnut hair stood still also. A moment of shock passed between the two.
Stacey was the first to speak. "Aaaugh!" she squealed, standing up and running, barefoot, to hug the girl. "Char! How have you been?"
Charlotte Johanssen happily hugged Stacey back. "Stacey! I've been wondering what ever happened to you. I should have known you'd become a math teacher." Charlotte pulled away with a grin.
Stacey barrelled on. "You'll be a perfect science teacher, Charlotte! Now, before we get down to business, tell me everything about your life!"
Charlotte sat down in a student's desk, brushing her long locks away from her face. A rosy blush slowly stained her cheeks as she tucked her tresses behind her ear. . .a brilliant, kalediscopic flash caught Stacey's eye.
"Char!" she cried again, grabbing for her hand. "That is some rock! You're engaged?! Who's the lucky man?"
A dreamy smile spread across Charlotte's face. "Do you remember the Pikes? Byron?"
Stacey's jaw was ajar. "I can't believe it! I never would have guessed! Congratulations!" But even through the shock that Byron Pike was marrying her former favourite sitting charge, she felt a pang of jealousy. Here she was, a successful, independant woman, congratulating a girl whom she used to baby-sit for on being engaged! Sure, Stacey had been on many dates, but no one really sparked that exhilarating feeling. She recalled when she had finally got to leave Stoneybrook, and how excited she felt, wanting to see the world and meet interesting people--gorgeous guys--but really, nothing had drastically changed. Though she wished she was in Charlotte's position, with a beautiful engagement ring on her finger, she knew that if anyone deserved to be happy for the rest of their life, it was Charlotte. And, now that she thought about it, Byron and Charlotte weren't that much of an impossible couple--they were both sweet and shy, and very loving.
"The wedding is in July, on the 17th. Do you think you could come?" Charlotte asked, eyes sparkling. "I mean, if you had the time, and. . ."
"I'd love to come, Char, really," Stacey gushed.
"Have you kept in touch with any of the others in the Baby-Sitters Club?" Charlotte asked seriously.
The question stunned Stacey for a few moments. The answer 'no' was ready to jump out of her throat. But, strangely, she felt a pang of guilt and sadness as she admitted that she hadn't. She hadn't even thought about them for the longest time. . .
"I was just wondering, because I'd love to have them attend the wedding too!" Charlotte confessed with excitement. "I can't imagine what they'd be up to now."
Stacey's brow furrowed. "Me, either. . ." she trailed off. Charlotte looked at her inquisitively.
"You miss them." She decided.
Stacey looked at Charlotte resolutely, then paused. "Yes, now that I think about it. Yes I do. . ."
There was an awkward pause before Charlotte suggested, "Maybe we should get started on this student teacher business. Fill me in on when I need to be here, what I need to bring. . ."
"Yes, yes of course," Stacey nodded, rummaging through her purse once more for the notes that Mr. Kisiel had left her. Suddenly, she had a lot to think about.