Kristy wasn't looking at herself in the mirror. Instead, she was staring at a hollowed-out book with Twizzlers inside it that was on her lap.
I took another strand of hair, joined it to one of the two I was already holding and then twisted it. That's when Kristy took a bit out of the Twizzler, jerking her head firmly to the other side. To stop the movement from ruining my hard work, I held onto the hair I had in my hands as if my life depended on it.
"Auch!" Kristen screamed. The rest of the club laughed.
The club being the Babysitters Club obviously.
It's a business that Kristy Thomas started when I had just moved to Stoneybrook almost two years ago. She's President , because she thought of it, Claudia Kishi (my best friend) is Vice President, because we meet in her room, Mary Anne Spier (Kristy's best friend) is Secretary , Dawn Shafer (Mary Anne's stepsister) is Alternate Officer , which means she does a bit of everything, and I, Stacey McGill, am Treasurer , because I'm good with math. And I love money.
There were another couple of members of the club, like the Junior Officers Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike (who usually just take the jobs earlier in the afternoon so that the older members can be free for jobs closer to curfew) and the Associate Member Logan Bruno (whose title just means that we call him if absolutely no one else is free to take that job, or if Mary Anne wants him to come along for her jobs. Member's boyfriend isn't a title we could have actually given to him).
But they weren't there that day.
It was a special meeting. We had to discuss what to make of the club now that we were mere days from high school. Mallory and Jessi didn't understand, they were starting 7th grade. And Logan never came to meetings: Claudia couldn't have boys in her room.
"It was your fault," Claudia said. It was barely comprehensible through her giggling and the sheer amount of MnMs she was chewing.
"Rule Number 1 of hairstyling, no food during," Dawn explained, moving her long hair from shoulder to shoulder to prove she knew what she was talking about.
Kristy made a face at me in the mirror. This was not her idea.
"And then you finish it off with a side pony. On this side," I said demonstrating. A twist crossed Kristy's head from the right temple to her left ear, gradually getting bigger, then feeding in a side ponytail with the rest of the hair. Obviously, being done hastily, without a comb, and on an unwilling model, it was not the best it could have been.
Kristy ran her hand over it. I didn't ask her how she felt about it: I could see in the mirror she liked it. She's really pretty, but I feel like she would slap me if I said that to her out loud. She doesn't think of my and Claudia's liking for fashion as un-feminist, but she's definitely gone on a rant before on how companies prey on young women like us and our societal need to feel pretty to milk us out of money.
So yeah, she's not the kind to compliment you about what you're wearing.
"This is an awful amount of work! You said this was going to be an everyday thing," she complained.
I stood a little straighter, like it gave my words more standing and said: "High School every day is different from Junior High every day."
Kristy rolled her eyes. "Charlie looked like he was hit by a car every day last year."
"That's senioritis fashion," Claudia said to give me some support.
I did know what I was saying. For all of the last semester of 8th grade, I was moved to Algebra classes at Stoneybrook High School. Even though it was just a couple of hours a week I did learn how older students carried themselves and acted. That's why the club had asked me for advice.
"He submitted his application barely a week before the end of the year," Kristy corrected us.
"Early senioritis," Claudia said, nodding along to herself.
"Is that a thing?" Dawn asked.
"Wouldn't that be Junioritis? Or just general Upperclassmen-itis?" Mary Anne intervened. She was good at jokes like this.
Kristy scoffed, but left her hair as it was. I was almost worried she'd let it down.
A call broke our thoughts. Mary Anne, who was closer to the phone, answered. Whenever someone calls, we're almost 100% sure that it's for the business. To our customers we gave the number of Claudia's personal landline, a number she never uses for anything else, so we're sure it's not someone from school asking for homework, or Dawn's little brother from Cali, or someone that wants to contact the Kishis.
It was Dr Johanssen, asking for someone for the Friday before school. Mrs Johanssen had to be out of town for an art show for the weekend and the doctor was working. She would be out until 10 pm.
We looked at each other after Mary Anne told us. 10 pm was late. But we all loved sitting for Charlotte, she was an angel made kid.
"I'll text my mother, see if she's fine with it," I said. Normally sitters shouldn't be allowed to choose their jobs, but even though the only busy one that day was Kristy, I doubted the other would ask their parents. I had to step up. Back in New York, when my parents weren't so afraid, I spent time outside really late, and I was twelve.
She answered. Just this once . I guessed that was fair.
"I can," I said, breaking the silence. We were all in some kind of shock.
Mary Anne called Dr Johanssen back and told her I would be her sitter. Afterwards, we all just stared at each other for a while.
Then Dawn said: "I guess she assumed that since we're in high school, we can stay out longer."
"It makes sense," Claudia sighed. "But I doubt that's what our parents are thinking."
Kristy jumped up, so fast I almost had a scare. " That 's what this meeting is for. Understand how to work now that we're in a different environment and way older than when we started."
I didn't really feel any older than when we were in 7th grade, but she was right.
Claudia turned to me. "I assume there are lots of cool clubs in high school…" She said with a dreamy voice.
"I don't really know, I was there just for algebra," I said. I did know of a couple, but none that would interest Claudia.
Kristy sat back down. "Charlie promised me he's talk about me to the football team's coach, so I'll definitely not be available those days"
"Then Stacey will cheer on you!" Mary Anne said, in a weird tone I didn't understand. Whatever it was, Kristy glared at her with fire in her eyes.
"I'm not really planning for cheerleading this year," I said. I did try out the year before, but I didn't make the team. It stung at that moment, but I didn't even care about cheerleading that much.
"It's a shame," Kristy said. "I need another jock in here, or I'll die of creativity"
"If Stacey's cheer is a sport, then wouldn't Jessi's ballet also be?" Dawn asked, following Kristy's logic.
Mary Anne laughed, as if she knew more about the situation than everyone else. She probably did.
"If it happens on a stage I'm not counting it," Kristy said.
I patted Kristy's head down, calming her a little. "Don't worry. I heard that SHS has a fully funded tennis team, I'd like to try out," I said.
Kristy's expression did not budge. I was so confused why, but most importantly I felt so responsible. I wanted her to be happy.
"But you know, I'll probably try for both. I really haven't played tennis in a long time," I added, blatantly lying. Whenever my dad is not working, we play. I think we're some of the only people to regularly use the tennis court at the running track near home.
But it didn't matter, because Kristy's face lit up. She was trying to hide it, of course, but I could still see it. I was happy too.
The idea of being at games together, Kristy's looking towards me and getting a bit more motivation to continue playing just by seeing me cheer her on, God… It did make me happy. A weird kind of happy I couldn't really place, but a nice happy nonetheless.
A car's horn sounded through the open window. I checked the time. The meeting had officially been over for a good five minutes. Kristy rolled her eyes and called her chauffeur on her phone.
She lives far from here, at least now after her mother's wedding to Watson Brewer. It's a slightly fancier neighbourhood, and definitely in a walkable distance but she managed to make sure the main sine qua non condition for her brother to have a car was that he'd drive her to meetings and jobs. So now, instead of just remembering what time it is, we have a very impatient teenager telling us to close the meeting.
"Stacey, do you need a ride?" Kristy asked me, still on the phone.
I live in Fawcett Avenue, and it's definitely closer to Kristy's house than Claudia. I was tired that day, especially since I spent the whole morning at Dawn's helping her unpack from her trip to see the rest of her family in California. So I said yes.
Only after we'd greeted everyone and started going down the stairs did it occur to me that Kristy had spent the weekend helping Charlie move into his dorm room, in a town forty-five minutes away. The person driving us home was going to be Sam.
Sam isn't a bad person. It's just that we kind of, almost dated, and it worked out well for literally no one. I was totally over him, but still, this wasn't exactly my idea of a good time.
He was still in the car. I nodded to him (the upwards nod of acknowledgement, not the downwards nod of respect—I may be 'boy-crazy' but I am not a doormat) and he just mumbled a "hi".
Kristy got closer to me and whispered: "You can sit shotgun, I don't mind," but her voice made it clear she did mind.
I wasn't sure what was going on with Kristy lately, but I definitely had to find out more.
"What if we go on a run, Sunday? So that we're in a better shape for tryouts," I proposed, sitting in the backseat.
She smiled, then looked at Sam and sat next to me.
"Uh, sure. I heard there's a running track near your place."
"Yeah, we'll pass by it in a moment. I'll point it out to you."
Kristy smiled again.