Disclaimer: The Baby-Sitters Club and its characters belong to Ann M Martin.
I was in front of my mirror, getting ready to go out with my friends, combing my long, shiny black hair and admiring my dark, kohl-lined almond-shaped eyes when it happened. I looked down at my outfit, an oversized black-and-yellow checked blouse that was knotted at the front to show my flat abs, black lycra bicycle shorts held up by polka-dotted yellow and black suspenders (wait, I'm not finished), black stockings, yellow fishnets and Docs, when I saw it. A lump of fat bulging out from my bare stomach.
Well I hate to brag, but I, Claudia Kishi am notfat. All right, so I'm a major junk-food addict. I hide Mars Bars and Snickers and M&Ms all over my room. (I have to do the same with my Nancy Drew books) I use all my baby-sitting money to buy candy (and clothes). My parents are all about Nutrition. They highly disapprove of junk food. They would probably have triple-heart attacks if they found out that there are six bags of Ring-Dings, or processed powders like my friend Dawn Schafer would call them, hiding in my pillowcase alone.
Okay. I know how you're picturing me. You'd think I'd be fat and pimply, right? But nope. I have smooth jet-black hair, a creamy complexion and a thin shape. My friends in the Baby-Sitters Club (more about that later) are so jealous because they have to work hard to exercise and eat healthy food to stay fit. (Not to sound like a snob- it's simply true.) Boys like Trevor Sandbourne and Pete Black say I'm beautiful (they say the same thing about my best friend Stacey McGill). I guess I'm lucky that I'm thin with flawless skin, because if I wasn't, boy, that would be a dead giveaway to my parents about my junk food.
So that little bulge in my stomach came as a big shock. I decided not to worry about it for then. But I couldn't help but undo the knot in my blouse.
Honk! Honk!
It was Kristy Thomas's brother, Charlie's car, The Junk Bucket (you can imagine why it's called that), with my friends inside. I hoped they wouldn't mind waiting a second or two. I applied my bright orange lipstick once more and made sure my foundation was perfect. I stuffed two Kit-Kats in my shirt pocket, quickly put in my earrings (a clay giraffe I had made myself and a little wooden lion), grabbed my purse (customized with black and yellow feathers) and dashed out the door. I opened the dilapidated (big word, huh?) door of the Junk Bucket and climbed onto a cramped seat next to Stacey. Since there were seven of us, Mallory Pike and Jessi Ramsey had to sit in the trunk. Charlie sped off.
"You look great, Claud." said Kristy. Then she added sarcastically, "I bet you spent hours getting ready."
I made a face at her. "So where are we going?" I asked the rest of my friends haughtily.
"New York." Stacey said vaguely. I smiled sympathetically. Despite being dragged away from the Big Apple by her dad's job, then her parent's divorce, Stacey will always be a City girl at heart.
"Dream on, Stace." said Kristy. "We're going to Washington Mall for dinner and a movie."
That's Kristy. Always the leader. Kristy is the president of the BSC because the club was her idea. She's a great leader because she's smart, outgoing, active (sometimes very bossy) and prone to Great Ideas. She adores sports (I can't stand them) and even has her own softball team for kids too young or not good enough for Little League. Unlike me, she dresses very casually. She practically has a uniform of jeans, a turtleneck, running shoes and a baseball cap with a collie on it (honoring her wonderful late collie, Louie). I'm always pestering her to care more about her looks, but she never listens to me. I guess a lot of her tough nature comes from the fact that she grew up mostly without a dad. You see, Kristy's dad walked out (what a jerk) of the house when Kristy was just six and left her mom with four kids. Fortunately, they've done very well and Kristy's mom has remarried to a millionaire called Watson Brewer, who has two amazing kids called Karen and Andrew.
"I think we should go to the oldies theatre." said Mary Anne. "They're showing The Philadelphia Story, you know."
I smiled again. Mary Anne loves movies like that- even though she always ends up using a gazillion tissue boxes because she cries so much! That girl is the emotional person I know. She's also very shy and sensitive, a very good listener- she even cries at TV commercials and pictures of animals. Actually, she has her very own kitten, Tigger back at home.
Mary Anne's mom died when she was very young, which I guess is why she's so sensitive. Boy, her dad was so strict when she was growing up. He used to make her wear little-girl dresses and jumpers and wear her brown hair in pigtails and she had a fourth-grader's curfew. But Mary Anne was able to confront him and now he's even let her get a new, preppy wardrobe (like now she was wearing a mahogany knitted sweater and a longish jean skirt), a trendy haircut and, yep, a boyfriend, called Logan. Logan is cute and funny, but I guess the coolest thing about him is that he happens to be an associate member (that means we call him when there's no one to take a job) of the Baby-Sitters Club! He's the only boy baby-sitter I know.
I bet you would never guess this, but Kristy the Kruel (is that a word?) and Mary Anne the Meek are best friends. I guess opposites really do attract. The three of us grew up together on Bradford court.
Charlie pulled up in front of Washington Mall and my friends and I climbed out of the car in turn.
"Thanks Charlie!" Stacey said perkily. (She's a bit boy-crazy right now.)
"Your welcome… nutface." he said, looking at Kristy.
Kristy pulled a face at him and Charlie pulled his window back up and drove away. We strolled inside the mall, trying to look very mature.
"Great." said Kristy. "Now where do you guys want to go first?"
"The pet store!" Mary Anne said, her eyes bulging out.
Stacey and I rolled our eyes.
"Zingy's," said Stacey. "I need some distant new clothes for my date with Pete." Zingy's is one of the coolest, if strangest, stores I have ever been too. They sell all these wild punk clothes, and the clerks sure look it. I usually make my clothes or buy bits and pieces of them from thrift stores and flea markets, but when I'm feeling extra-outrageous, I like to buy them from there.
Mallory's eyes bugged out.
"You're allowed to shop there?" she said, impressed.
"Sure I am." said Stacey.
"Wow. Maybe my parents will let me too when I'm thirteen."
We began to walk to Zingy's, and Stacey and I smiled at each other again. I guess you could say that we're the most sophisticated members of the BSC. By now, you're probably wondering why I'm not best friends with Mary Anne or Kristy (since we all grew up together). The reason is simply because, I hate to sound conceited but I've always been a little more mature. When Kristy and Mary Anne were dressing up stuffed animals and playing tag, I was painting or checking out cool outfits in store windows. I met Stacey in seventh grade and we've been best friends ever since. Like I said before, Stacey is originally from New York, which I think is why she's so mature. How many Connecticut eighth-graders do you know who have been to the New York Ballet or had a famous opera singer sing them happy birthday at the Plaza?
Stacey visits her dad in New York every once in a while, and sometimes she even takes me with her! (There are a lot of great art galleries there.) Stacey even looks like a New Yorker, with her long, permed blonde hair and huge blue eyes, and most importantly, oh my lord, her clothes. I don't know anyone who dresses like Stacey, except maybe models in magazines. She wears the most cool, sophisticated clothes. Like today, she was wearing a tight, tight, gold lamè jumpsuit, a silver metallic vest, pointy silver ankle boots and a wide matching belt. As usual, she looked terrific. I think our shared love of fashion is a big reason for the bond between me and Stacey.
It's not that we don't care about other things. It's not like our lives revolve around what we wear and look like. It's just that to us, clothes aren't just something you use just to cover your body. (Is that really necessary?) They're something you use to reflect your whole personality, your inner self. When I walk on the street, I am giving strangers a statement that I am Claudia Kishi. I am unique and one-of-a-kind. After all, how many other Japanese-American baby-sitters with long silky black hair who love junk-food and art and hate school are there in the world? And my clothes can tell you this. I use my body as a canvas.
Speaking of clothes, Stacey and I were currently fixed on the most dibble (that's a word my friends and I made up; its short for incredible) pair of retro, faux leather pants in hot pink, in the window of Zingy's.
I gasped. "Oh my lord, I am wearing that with my sequined pink leotard with the appliquéd unicorns on it and my red suede miniskirt!"
Kristy gave me a funny look. "You mean your parents would let you?"
I shrugged. My parents are pretty loose with me, clothes-wise. They'd let me wear pretty much anything. The pants were very wild and unconventional, almost punk. Very me.
"Do you need assistance?" came a bored voice.
I twirled behind and nearly jumped. A woman with a green Mohawk about, ten inches (I'm not good with geometry) in the air, buckets of black eyeliner and orange lipstick was standing behind me, wearing a Zingy's uniform.
"Oh, uh…" I tried not to look intimidated. "I'd like to purchase those pants, please."
"Would you like to try them on?" she asked.
"Uh, no thanks." I'm fairly skinny. Pretty much anything can fit me.
The woman raised her skinny eyebrows, but led us into the store and I tried not to wince as Mallory and Jessi muffledly giggled, "Even the boys are wearing make-up!"
How immature. I thought everyone had come to accept that a lot of men and boys these days wear makeup and get their ears pierced.
We left the store five or so minutes later, me with the pants, Stacey with the same ones in black and Mallory with pink cotton leopard-skin leggings.
"Mal are you sure your mom and dad would-" Mary Anne asked for the thirtieth time.
"Positive." interrupted Mallory. "My parents are really starting to loosen up."
"That's a pretty big step." I told her, popping an M&M from my purse into my mouth. We began to head towards Friendly's for dinner now.
"But whatever you say." said Kristy.
Meanwhile, Dawn was fuming at Stacey and me.
"How can you guys do that? How can you buy something made from what was once a living creature's skin?"
I think I should tell you that Dawn (who's Mary Anne's stepsister!) is very concerned with animal rights and the environment. Probably because she comes from California (that's where she lived before her parents got divorced and her mom married Mary Anne's widower father), where everyone eats health food (yuck). Dawn couldn't be more California if she tried. She even looks it, with her long white-blonde hair and deep tan. She's into health food, which means doesn't eat red meat or sugar (can you believe it?). She's easygoing and laid-back but can also be very opinionated about subjects she feels strongly about. I think she's an individual. She doesn't care what people think about her and does what she wants (unless it's hurting someone). Although Dawn loves Stoneybrook, deep down inside, she misses California terribly. She loves to surf and go to the beach, things you can't do in Stoneybrook. I can see the sadness at the bottom of those sea-blue eyes.
"Dawn that was fake." groaned Stacey, as we sat down at a booth. "I asked the saleswoman."
"Besides," I asserted. "Real leather is out of fashion anyway." It was true. Wear Fake for the Animal's Sake bracelets are the latest craze at our school.
Dawn made a face. "It's important to value humanity over trends in any case." She gestured towards her oversized pale blue button-down man's shirt, jeans and sneakers.
"And comfort." added Kristy.
"Well all you wear is jeans and stuff. You don't understand how important looking good is to us." I said, throwing in a little sniff.
"Maybe that's because we don't feel that we have to wear fancy clothes and makeup to impress boys." retorted Dawn.
Just then, the waitress came over, halting our argument. We all ordered Colossal Burgers, except for Dawn, who ordered a Caesar salad.
"So what movies are playing at the cinema?" asked Stacey, changing the subject while we waited for our food.
Mary Anne looked at the movie schedule she was clutching. "There's Paris for Two. That's a romantic comedy. And Night of the Living Dead…"
Blech. We quickly shook our heads. We can't stand movies like that.
"…then there's Out of this Universe….Oh my lord, that has Cam Geary in it!"
Cam Geary is Mary Anne's favorite actor. Mary Anne is always telling Logan he looks just like him.
"What's it about?" asked Kristy, tapping her sneakered foot.
Mary Anne took a look at the description. "Oh… It's about… a couple that gets separated. In outer space. And they have to try to find each other- oh…" Mary Anne's eyes started to well up.
"Mary Anne." we started to comfort her. She is so sensitive.
"So that's it? That's what we're seeing?" Kristy interrupted us.
"Well, it's showing at seven thirty." I said. "Its two hours long, and Charlie will be picking us up ten o' clock, so that should give us enough time to do a little bit more shopping before our ride comes."
"Not us." said Mallory, referring to herself and Jessi. "Our parents are picking us up at nine thirty sharp."
"I guess we'll have to miss out on the shopping part." Jessi said morosely (I learned that word in English. It means 'sadly' and 'gloomily').
"Our parents are like army generals." moaned Mallory.
"I know!" said Jessi.
Maybe you're wondering why Mallory and Jessi had an earlier curfew than the rest of us. That's because they're eleven and the rest of us are thirteen. Maybe that's why they're best friends. Both of them are obsessed with reading, especially horse stories and they both complain that their parents are too strict with them. I personally think that's just a phase- eleven is a tough age. On the other hand, Jessi is a ballerina, while Mal is an aspiring authoress. Jessi comes from a normal-sized family, while Mallory has (wait for it) seven siblings! Then there's how they look. Jessi has looong dancer's legs, cocoa-colored skin, and chocolate eyes and is African-American (which none of us could care less about). Mallory is Caucasian, with, to her despair, unruly red hair, freckles, glasses and braces. Right now she's pretty upset with her parents because they won't let her wear contact lenses or wear wild clothes like tight, patterned leggings and baggy glittery tops. Things will improve for her, I know. Besides, I'm sure she'll look cute when she's older. I was going over her features, wondering how they'd look in a few years' time when our food arrived, and we dug in.
"I just hope you know that you're devouring what was once a living, breathing creature." Dawn commented, eyeing my food. She was picking the bacon out of her salad already.
Mary Anne sat back, turning green. "That's it. I can't eat anymore."
"Da-awn!" we all exclaimed at once. And that, that was a true blue BSC moment. We're such close friends and nothing can tear us apart. It's moments like these that make me so grateful to have such terrific friends.
We wolfed down our dinner as we talked and laughed about school, the BSC and life. When we were finished we ordered dessert. Kristy and Mary Anne ordered a banana split to share, and Jessi and Mallory ordered Double Thick Milkshakes. Me? I ordered a Caramel Fudge Brownie Sundae anda chocolate milkshake. I don't understand the 'fraidy-cats who try to make you feel like a glutton by ordering some tiny little fruit salad. Then again, other people probably gain weight a lot easier than I do. My friends and I finished our deserts and headed towards the movie theater, in deep discussion.
Speaking of ordering nothing, you might have noticed that Stacey and Dawn hadn't ordered dessert. You know Dawn's a health food freak, but Stacey stays away from dessert because she has no choice. That's because Stacey is diabetic. That's a lifelong disease where her pancreas can't control how much sugar goes into her bloodstream, which means her blood sugar could get seriously out of wack, which could land her in the hospital. Stacey has to stick to a diet of (ouch) no sweets and give herself regular (ugh) insulin shots. But she deals with it fine. It's crazy how junk food could make Stacey seriously sick, while I couldn't live without it.
"Earth to Claudia!" We were now at the box office and Kristy was trying to hand me my ticket for Out of this Planet (or whatever it was called). I had been staring dreamily off into the distance, feeling very full, and I jumped when I heard Kristy's voice.
"Sorry." I grinned and took my ticket. "Just thinking."
Next, my friends and I went to get our popcorn. Suddenly, looking at the drool-worthy snacks, I didn't feel so full. I ordered a large popcorn to share with Stacey, a Pepsi, even a brownie and a Mars Bar
"Mars." I joked wearily. "Because of the movie? It's about space?"
"Uh-huh." said Kristy. "Claud, you're crazy. How can you eat those after having that dessert?"
"A great food connoisseur never reveals her secrets." I said grandly.
Kristy looked at me. "You're crazy."
We giggled our way into the theatre. (The audience sure must have liked us.) The movie was just beginning to start. As I began to indulge into my Mars Bar, I remembered the bulge in my stomach and felt a nagging feeling of How are you going to fit into those leather pants? but I hastily put that thought out of my mind and began to concentrate on the next two hours of space, romance, and gorgeous Cam Geary. The evening was just beginning!