Lila

Kristy woke me early the next morning, screaming something about getting ready for Camp BSC. I jumped out of bed and dressed quickly, pausing briefly to reflect on how out of character it was for me to a) take orders from a thirteen year old and b) look after little children, but decided that, for the sake of the story, I would just go with the flow.

I passed Charlie in the hallway and gave him a long, lingering look. Honestly, I didn't even think he was that cute, but Jessica did and I always go after the guys that Jessica likes. I'd hardly have any storylines if I didn't!

I asked Kristy about Elizabeth as we ate breakfast. I was a little confused that they were running a playgroup when they were supposed to be looking for Liz. Kristy just gave me one of her looks.

"We can run a playgroup and look for Liz," she snarled at me. "We're very efficient. In fact, we're so efficient that we've managed to have ten Christmases, six Thanksgivings and four summer holidays at Sea City in one year."

I was pretty impressed. I mean, I'd only had three Christmases that year.

After breakfast, I followed Kristy outside to help her set up. Again, that was out of character for me, but what else was I going to do? If only I had a diary I thought miserably. I could have killed some time writing. But I was never given one of those Secret Diary books. Fuckers.

The little brunette and the blond who had lectured me about my shoes were the first two people to arrive. Little Miss Protest took one look at my leather jacket and threw a bucket of red paint at me. I'm not sure where she got the paint; it just sort of appeared. The brunette burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" Kristy asked.

"D-D-Dawn used to be so cool in the beginning!" Waterworks cried. "But then the ghost-writers turned her into some sort of crazy protester! Wah!"

I rolled my eyes. These people were freaks! I inwardly cursed Jessica for bringing me here. Come to think of it, where was Jessica?

I had no time to ponder. The first child had arrived. She was a little girl, about four or five, with shiny brown hair. She was wearing a Laura Ashley dress and patent leather shoes. "Who are you?" I barked.

"Who are you?" she barked back, in a very Lila Fowler tone of voice.

I told her my name, and she reluctantly countered, "I'm Jenny Prezzioso." She looked at my jacket. "Is that Armani?"

"Yes," I told her, impressed.

"What happened to it?" she asked.

I jerked my thumb at Little Miss Protest, who was still comforting Waterworks. Jenny rolled her eyes at me. "That's all they ever do," she sighed. "Cry and yell at people to recycle. I hate them!"

And suddenly, I understood why Kristy and her friends loved baby-sitting so much. If their other charges were just half as nice and sweet as Jenny Prezzioso, the job must be a dream. "I love you," I burst out, unable to hold back the emotion.

"Yeah, whatever," Jenny snapped. "Read to me."

I spent the rest of the day with Jenny. I was surprised that the BSC just left us alone. Surely Jenny was their favourite kid – wouldn't they want to spend time with her? I guess they would see the bond we were developing.

The best part of the day was when Jenny's mom came to pick her up. "I want Lila to look after me always!" she cried.

Mrs Prezzioso looked at me. "I am looking for a sitter for the summer…"

"I'll do it!" I cried. Finally, this stupid vacation was going somewhere. I knew that baby-sitting Jenny wouldn't even feel like work. I had a feeling that we were going to be best friends.