I stared around at the faces that surrounded me. I saw the looks on my friends' faces; my best friends' faces.
And even I, Kristy Thomas, knew what everyone wanted to say but didn't have the heart to tell me.
As ninth graders, no one really felt like they had to devote their lives to baby-sitting anymore.
Sure, I sort of knew that's what they had wanted all summer. After graduation from eighth grade, Claudia's party that followed felt, to everyone, like the end. But once they saw how broken up I was, they continued to come to meetings three times a week for the following two months or so.
I can't help not wanting to give up the BSC. My baby, my greatest creation ever--without it, what would my life be like?
I remember a few months ago, when we first decided to disband the BSC because we were all fighting so much. Monday, Wednesday, Friday--at 5:30, my chest would feel tight and I couldn't relax until I called out order. This caused much teasing from Sam and Charlie, my two older brothers, and Karen, who is my younger stepsister, was just bewildered. My family tried to console me, but nothing would make me feel better than sitting in Claud's room at that magic time, fielding phone calls and solving problems.
With the added stress of starting high school, I didn't think I could handle the pain of losing the BSC in a long, drawn-out process.
So at this meeting, the last meeting of the summer, I cleared my throat. My friends looked at me expectantly and they knew what I was going to say.
"This meeting of the Baby-sitters Club is now in session."
Claudia stopped painting her nails; Mary Anne stopped looking out the window; Stacey stopped pawing through Claudia's wardrobe (She was trying to find something for the first day of school that would catch everyone's eye. Preferably something that would catch the eye of a guy with a car). I relaxed a little, then tensed up again as I remembered what I had to say.
First I said my familiar line: "Any new business?" When no answer came, there was no stalling anymore.
"I motion that this be the last official meeting of the BSC."
And even I, Kristy Thomas, knew what everyone wanted to say but didn't have the heart to tell me.
As ninth graders, no one really felt like they had to devote their lives to baby-sitting anymore.
Sure, I sort of knew that's what they had wanted all summer. After graduation from eighth grade, Claudia's party that followed felt, to everyone, like the end. But once they saw how broken up I was, they continued to come to meetings three times a week for the following two months or so.
I can't help not wanting to give up the BSC. My baby, my greatest creation ever--without it, what would my life be like?
I remember a few months ago, when we first decided to disband the BSC because we were all fighting so much. Monday, Wednesday, Friday--at 5:30, my chest would feel tight and I couldn't relax until I called out order. This caused much teasing from Sam and Charlie, my two older brothers, and Karen, who is my younger stepsister, was just bewildered. My family tried to console me, but nothing would make me feel better than sitting in Claud's room at that magic time, fielding phone calls and solving problems.
With the added stress of starting high school, I didn't think I could handle the pain of losing the BSC in a long, drawn-out process.
So at this meeting, the last meeting of the summer, I cleared my throat. My friends looked at me expectantly and they knew what I was going to say.
"This meeting of the Baby-sitters Club is now in session."
Claudia stopped painting her nails; Mary Anne stopped looking out the window; Stacey stopped pawing through Claudia's wardrobe (She was trying to find something for the first day of school that would catch everyone's eye. Preferably something that would catch the eye of a guy with a car). I relaxed a little, then tensed up again as I remembered what I had to say.
First I said my familiar line: "Any new business?" When no answer came, there was no stalling anymore.
"I motion that this be the last official meeting of the BSC."