Hey, Bart-Man!

I'm on my way to the airport right now, but I thought I'd write you a postcard, since you probably miss me already. Just kidding. I mean, I'm not your girlfriend or anything. So you don't have to miss me. Unless you want to. I wouldn't, like, mind if you did. But you don't have to. Right. Okay. Bye.

Kristy

Some people may think I am immature, but I have had my fair share of experience with boys. So I know how to sound cool in a postcard to my non-boyfriend Bart, coach of my softball team's rivals, with whom I occasionally go to the movies. As I said in the postcard, we were going to the airport. Since Watson needed fourteen tickets and only booked them three weeks before our flight, we were flying out of LaGuardia Airport in New York City, rather than Bradley, the international airport in Connecticut. LaGuardia is about two and a half hours from Stoneybrook, and my family and friends in the Baby-sitters Club were going in three separate cars. I was in Watson's van with Stacey, Mary Anne, David Michael, Karen, and Andrew.

Mary Anne thinks New York City is the best place on Earth and seemed more excited about going to the airport than she was about going to Tokyo. As soon as we turned onto the Van Wyck Expressway, she started singing that song from On the Town. "New York, New York! It's a wonderful – "

Stacey interrupted her. "Mary Anne, you do know LaGuardia is in Queens, right? We don't recognize the B&T." Stacey's so sophisticated. I had no idea what B&T meant, but I had a sudden craving for a bacon and tomato sandwich.

"But, Stacey, they mention the Bronx in the song."

"Out of pity."

"Oh, okay!" She went back to singing.

By the time we got to the airport, David Michael, Karen, and Andrew were all singing along with Mary Anne. It was dibbly annoying but I didn't want to undermine Mary Anne's authority as a baby-sitter by telling her to stop, so I worked on my postcard to Bart. I wrote several drafts of it before deciding on the final one, and after we had checked our luggage, Mary Anne, Abby, and I went looking for a gift shop to buy a postcard so I could mail my note to Bart. I really wanted Stacey to come, since she's dated, like, ninety guys, so she'd have some valuable opinions on which postcard would be good to send to Bart. Unfortunately, Claudia was having a reaction to the white oil paint she had slathered on her face to go with her geisha-themed traveling outfit, so Stacey was helping her wash it off. Jessi and Mallory stayed behind to keep an eye on the kids.

"How about this one?" Abby plucked a postcard off the rack and handed it to me. "And Bart plays the guitar, like Bruce Springsteen."

"Gross, Abby! That's George Steinbrenner!" I may have nearly been born in Yankee Stadium, but Bart and I had our first real tryst while a Mets game was on TV. Not only do I not really want to remind him of baseball, which would make him think of watching baseball games, which would remind him of my mother and stepfather catching us, well, kissing, I also would rather eat nothing but the Wednesday SMS hot lunch for a year than buy a postcard with George Steinbrenner on it.

"It's not, Kristy, look, it says The Boss right here!" I wondered if this was her idea of a play on words. When Abby first moved to Stoneybrook, I was really uncertain about letting her join the BSC. We are a serious, organized, professional business, and Abby jokes around an awful lot. Plus, she was totally disrespectful of the pizza toast the first time she did it. No matter what Abby thinks, there was nothing funny about dragging the Kishis' toaster out of their kitchen and clinking it against our slices.

I decided to ignore her until she was done being silly and ask for Mary Anne's advice instead. "Hey, Mary Anne!" Where did she go? I heard the beeping of the cash register and turned to see Mary Anne walking toward the rack of postcards, hauling three large shopping bags. "Mary Anne! What did you buy?"

"Just some souvenirs from the greatest city on the planet!" I peeked inside one of her bags. Among other things, I saw bagel-shaped magnets and the New York edition of Monopoly.

"Mary Anne! You have that Monopoly already!"

"Kristy, that's for displaying. We can actually play with this one!" She seemed so excited, I didn't want to tell her that sounded like a dumb idea to me. She would probably start crying. Instead, I asked for her thoughts on the postcards.

"Well, Kristy, when I send my boyfriend love notes – "

"He's not my boyfriend! And it's not a love note! Stop that, Abby!" Abby had begun noisily kissing her hand. Honestly. Sometimes I think she is trying to ruin the Baby-sitters Club's reputation as mature, responsible teenagers.

" – I usually write them on nice stationery. And mail them in an envelope," Mary Anne continued.

I paused. Was that too forward? I mean, I know I said Bart and I aren't boyfriend and girlfriend…but he had sent me love notes on stationery in envelopes before. I twirled the rack again and found myself face to face with a postcard of a pair of legs hanging over the back of a chair. Before I could spin the postcard rack again, the legs postcard had caught Mary Anne's eye.

"Here's a nice one, Kristy!"

"Uh…"

Before I knew what was happening, Mary Anne had snatched the postcard and was headed back to the cash register. "Just this, please," she said, pushing the card across the counter.

The cashier picked up the card and inspected it. "You got this here?"

"Yes, from that rack back there. Where my friend is standing." Mary Anne stuck her hand in her pocket. "She's buying it, actually." She pointed at me. Thanks, Mary Anne. Sometimes I wish she still had the paralyzing shyness that gave her trouble talking to clerks in stores.

"Well, we don't carry any postcards with…legs on them. At least, I don't think we do. Let me ask my manager." The cashier bellowed across the store. "Lisa! Do we carry any postcards with curvy legs and high heels hanging over the back of a chair?"

A woman who I assumed was Lisa turned around from where she was kneeling on the floor, organizing magazines in a display. "I don't…does it say New York on it?"

"No."

"Where did it come from?"

"That little lady found it." The cashier gestured toward me, and I tried to hide behind Abby's hair. She figured out what I was doing and tried to pull it back in a ponytail, but it just puffed out after the elastic band, so I was still effectively hidden.

"I don't think it's ours. You might as well just take it," Lisa said to me.

"Er. Thanks," I replied. I picked up Mary Anne's shopping bags and quickly walked out of the store and back to our gate. Karen was playing Let's All Come In with Nannie, David Michael, Andrew, and several annoyed-looking passengers, and Stacey, Claudia (with an angry-looking rash still covering her face), Jessi, and Mallory were sitting in a circle on the floor, speaking heatedly.

"You have to tell them!"

"They'll never find out. American time is behind Japanese time, so they'll never know!"

"Hey, guys, what's going on?" I asked, walking over to my friends.

Jessi looked up. "Claudia didn't tell her parents that she was going to Japan with us!"

"Claudia!" Abby exclaimed.

"American time is behind Japanese time! Things happen first there! So my parents won't know I'm gone!" Claudia was beginning to look miffed. I saw Stacey open her mouth to correct her, so I started talking as quickly as I could.

"But, Claudia, your parents are in Japan, so you'll be there the same time they are," I reasoned.

Claudia's face fell. "Oh, no, you're right!" She reached into an enormous bag and produced a handful of candy corn, which she promptly shoved into her mouth. "What am I going to do?"

"Hey, where'd you get candy corn in March?" Abby asked, helpful as always.

Claudia grunted. I took stock of the situation, now that she was willing to acknowledge it, and came up with a Great Idea. "I know! Claudia, why don't you call your parents?"

My friends all turned to face me. "Kristy! That's a great idea!" "We don't call you the Idea Machine for nothing!" "Shut up, Hitler." I'm not sure who said that last one, but, anyway, everyone knows Hitler was one of the most charismatic politicians of his time – or any time, really.

"Thanks, Kristy. You're a Tic-Tac," Claudia beamed. She and Stacey set off for the pay phones.

Whew. Crisis averted. Now on to my next task. "Mary Anne, where's that postcard? I have to copy my note to Bart onto it."

Mary Anne looked at me blankly. "I thought you brought it."

"No, you were the one talking to the people there about it."

"I don't have it. Abby, did you…?"

Abby shook her head. "Mmphh," she said around a mouthful of Claudia's five-month-old candy corn. Her hair stopped shaking about a minute later, and after she swallowed, she said, "I didn't bring it."

Well, this was great. After being completely embarrassed in that gift shop, I didn't even have a postcard to show for it. "I'm sorry, Kristy, don't be mad at me," Mary Anne wept into my shoulder. "I'll go back and get it for you!" She blew her nose on the sleeve of my Krushers T-shirt.

"No, Mary Anne, don't worry about it." After all, Bart and I aren't really boyfriend and girlfriend, so it wasn't like he would be expecting a postcard.

"Well, if you're sure…Kristy, I'll make this up to you."

Mary Anne is the most loyal friend anyone could ask for. I knew she was telling the truth. "I know, Mary Anne," I said. "I know."