Chapter seven:
When it came to high school there were two types of sluts.
The first type were the high-class sluts like Stacey, Stacey has in fact only ever slept with three guys even though she's dated a lot.
The main reason why Stacey got called a slut was because unfortunately for her she was born with a perfect diabetes induced figure, her father bought her a designer wardrobe and once she stopped perming it she had fantastic hair.
Then there were the classic sluts; these were girls who would shamelessly use their sexuality to get whatever the hell they wanted.
Cokie had been working towards that goal ever since she tried to steal Logan off Mary Anne when we were thirteen.
By the time we were sixteen she was perfect at it, and on Friday the first thing I saw was her standing outside Jonathon Mathew's locker practically plastering herself against him. To give Jonathon a little credit he did seem horrified by this. He was backing away from her slowly holding up his hands as if they were a defensive shield, I snickered at them both heading to my English class.
"You seem cheerful Finally caught the criminals then?" Emily asked as I sat in the seat next to her. Emily and I had been stuck together in English ever since we both realized we were the only girls in our class who ever did the assigned reading.
"Oh I've caught plenty of criminals Emily, how's the tsunami crisis concert going?" I asked and she rolled her eyes.
"Don't ask, our budget has been slashed again and at this rate we can barely afford to hire the stage! Plus nobodies buying any tickets and I'm worried we'll barely raise enough to cover costs" she groaned.
"You know I could help you" I began.
"No" she said flatly.
"Emily your in way over your head" I sighed and she glared at me.
"I am perfectly capable of organizing a fundraiser myself" she sniffed and then she opened her copy of Drum Media magazine.
"Hang on that girl on the cover" I said staring at the picture of a miserable skinny Goth girl.
"That girl happens to be Maggie Bloom, lead singer of the band Vanish? There song broken wings debuted no: 1 on the charts" Emily said adjusting her glasses.
"I know her" I said my eyes widening with realization.
"You know Maggie Bloom? Get real Thomas you're Susie High School and she's an underground emo rock figure," Emily said looking faintly amused.
"I'm serious! Remember Dawn Schafer?" I asked.
"That weird hippy who's breathe smelt like granola?" Emily asked her brow wrinkling with concentration.
"Maggie Bloom happened to be one of her best friends in California! They had their own branch of the babysitters club," I said and Emily rolled her eyes.
"Maggie Bloom happens to be the queen of teen angst and haikus, she doesn't baby-sit" Emily said.
"She did when she was thirteen! What does the article say?" I asked and Emily looked up anxiously, Mr Fischer our English teacher still hadn't shown up yet.
He was always at least ten minutes late because he was addicted to two things, coffee and cigarettes.
"Vanish is performing some sort of concert in New York tomorrow night" Emily sighed.
"This is it!" I breathed.
"Huh?"
"We can go to the concert and convince Maggie Bloom to perform at your charity thing, people will want to go if a famous person shows up!" I grinned.
"Kristy how can you be so sure Maggie Bloom will say yes?" Sighed Emily.
"She has to say yes, she was a member of a babysitters club branch even if it was in California and we pledge eternal loyalty to each other" I said and Emily blinked.
"Or we could just tell her that the charity concert is for starving animals and children, if I remember correctly she's a sucker for that sort of thing" I said.
"There's one small factor your forgetting Kristy I'm in charge of the tsunami crisis and I'm not going to kick out the bands I've already lined up so you can run off to New York tomorrow night under the delusion that a rock star happens to be one of your former employees" Emily said and I took a deep calming breath slowly countering to ten.
"If I can convince Maggie Bloom to perform at the charity concert will you put her on the bill?" I asked and Emily smirked.
"If you can convince Maggie Bloom to perform I'll let you sing" she said.
"Deal" I said extending my hand and she gravely shook it.
"There are no words to describe how crazy you are Kristy," she said, sounding almost proud.
"So that's the whole situation," I said to the babysitter's club alumni as we sat in the student courtroom after school.
"Ok let me get this straight" Stacey began and she marched to the white board I had set up.
"You think that if enough people buy tickets to the tsunami crisis concert Jonathon will be tempted to steal the profits, so you want us to go to this concert in New York and convince Maggie Bloom a rock star to perform at. Our concert in order to increase ticket sales" she said pointing at each part of the plan.
"Yes" I said cheerfully.
"Kristy you've lost it! Our parents will never let us go to New York" Mary Anne pointed out.
"Actually my mother would, she never notices where I go" Abby said raising her hand.
"My mother wouldn't either, she has enough trouble keeping track of all eight of us" Mallory pointed out.
"Yes but my father would, he locks me in my room to make sure I do all my math homework" Mary Anne sighed.
"Fortunately I thought of that, during study hall I went online and looked up train time tables, the concert starts at eighty thirty, if we leave by five on the train we'll get there in time and then we can catch the train home! All of us except Mary Anne have a One am curfew so we could talk to Maggie during the intermission and then head home without our parents knowing" I grinned.
"Actually I like this plan, sounds more fun then going to another social event created by Cokie Mason" Stacey said warming to the event.
"We'd need ID though, it isn't an all ages venue" Claudia said consulting the magazine I'd borrowed off Emily.
I had to admit that it was a slight snag, there were one person who knew how to make a fake ID but I really didn't want to consult him.
"I'll deal with it" Stacey said and then her eyes fell on me.
"Of course I'll need your help" she said her eyes lingering on me.
When it came to attaining a fake ID there was one person in Stoneybrook high school that had the talent and the patience to pull it off, and I bet you're thinking it was Cary Retlin.
You'd be wrong; in fact it was surprisingly enough Alan Grey.
On the surface Cary was the sort of guy who every one believed had at least at dozen fake ID's. In reality he was more likely to spend his time reading in his room rather then going into a club. Alan on the other hand had been obsessed with entering forbidden rooms ever since he'd tried to go into the girl's bathroom back in the first grade. By the time we were fourteen he decided to move on from bathrooms and into adult bookstores and strip clubs. Alan ended up surprising everyone by signing up for a summer digital photography class and by the ninth grade he knew exactly how to use Photoshop to create a fake ID.
Of course he was expensive.
"Why do I have to come?" I groaned as we marched down the main drag of Stoneybrook.
"Because Alan's been in love with you since the third grade, he'll cut us a decent deal if you come along" Stacey pointed out practically dragging me by my hand.
"He hasn't been in love with me since the third grade, he's been obsessed with me since the third grade and there is a difference" I said miserably.
"We're here," Stacey said as we approached the first ever Starbucks to open in Stoneybrook.
"I can't do this" I gulped.
"Do you want the fake ID or not?" Stacey snapped.
"Yes, no, maybe"
"Talking to Alan wont kill you"
"No but I might end up killing him" I groaned.
"Sooner or later Kristy your going to have to learn how to relate to guys without giving into homicidal tendacies" she sighed.
Alan worked in Starbucks; after all buying the latest computer software to keep his ID business running was expensive.
There was also the fact he was allowed to drink free coffee, Alan had been addicted to caffeine since the sixth grade.
"Well if it isn't the stunningly gorgeous Stacey McGill and the fantastically frightening Kristy Thomas, you two here for a caffeine hit?" he asked as we approached the counter.
"Shouldn't you have some sort of pre packaged greeting for us Alan? Like welcome to Starbucks can we take your order?" I asked raising my eyebrows.
"Of course I do! But I pride on greeting my friends individually, so what can I get you two?" he asked picking up his magic marker.
"We both want strawberry and guava fruit chillers" Stacey said examining her manicure.
"Stacey you cant drinks that! Those things are pure sugar, one sip will send you into a diabetic coma" I pointed out but then I realized Alan wasn't writing down the order.
"It's a code word Kristy" he smiled and then there was a blinding flash.
"What the hell?" I squeaked and I realized he was holding a camera phone.
"I needed to get your picture" he smirked.
"Why do we need to speak in code?" I whispered.
"Because I'm
supposed to be working! I'll get fired if the boss thinks I'm not
selling you real Strawberry guava fruit chillers" Alan said turning
to one of the machines.
"Actually we need ones for all the
former BSC members," Stacey said and his eyes lit up with interest.
"All seven of you? That's going to cost a lot," he said handing me a deep sunset pink colored drink.
"We're going to a concert at club Debaser if you must know, so how much is it going to cost us?" I asked.
"Club Debaser huh? Tell you what I'll do it for free," he said as I handed over a five-dollar bill.
"Alan you never do anything for free" I pointed out.
"I'll do this if you let me come along," he said counting out my change and I felt my cheek twitch.
"He usually charges fifty dollars a pop Kristy" Stacey whispered.
"Fine you can come, meet me at my house at five thirty tomorrow night Alan with the ID's" I said.
"Tomorrow? You're not giving me much time," he said.
"How long does it take to copy and paste out photos onto your template?" Stacey asked.
"Nobody respects artists anymore" sighed Alan.
In the end only four of us were able to go. Mary Anne Mallory and Jessi had all chickened out at the last second, but Mary Anne had at least offered to cover for the rest of us, she told our parents we were sleeping over at her barn. None of our parents seemed to remember that her house has burned down three years ago and that her barn was actually her home.
Claudia had been so excited about the clubbing excursion she'd forgone sleep in order to whip up a brand new outfit for the occasion. Because we were seeing the band Vanish she'd decided to dress up as a magician, complete with the vintage tuxedo a top hat and white face paint with a bunny sewn onto the belt.
I'd had a bit more trouble, I was vaguely aware that people could be turned away from some clubs if they didn't wear the right clothes.
The problem was that I didn't own any of the "right" sorts of clothes at all; my one sexy outfit was a red pajama top that Stacey had given me for my last birthday.
"I'm having the same problem" Abby sighed as we went over out wardrobe choices the next morning.
"See this is the part of being a jock that sucks, we can never get into night clubs," I said.
"I know how to get into nightclubs," Karen said cheerfully from where she was reading her copy of Anne of Green Gables on my bed.
"No you don't" I sighed wearily.
"Yes I do, I saw Lindsay Lohan get into a nightclub in that song of hers and she was seventeen when she made that film clip, all you have to do is dress like her" Karen said flipping over another page.
"Kristy neither of us have Lindsay Lohan clothes" Abby sighed.
"We'll just have to improvise," I said wearily.
In the end Abby and I ended up raiding my mothers wardrobe, ever since my mother married Watson she'd become obsessed with dressing like a Sex in the City Protégée which meant her wardrobe was filled with very expensive designer tops and skirts.
"Right Karen do we look slutty enough now?" I said, I was wearing my best jeans along with a pair of my mothers diamante covered highheels and a tightly fitting black glittering top.
Karen studied me critically and then marched towards me yanking my hair out of its standard pony tail, she then walked to Abby and used her fingers to mess up Abby's already thick curls.
"Now you look perfect," she grinned.
"I feel like Stacey, so sophisticated" Abby grinned causing the heavy green eye shadow she was wearing to fall all over her cheeks.
The doorbell rang and Abby and I jumped to answer it before Mom or Watson got there first.
"You two look awfully dressed up for a sleepover," Sam said knowingly and Abby laughed cheerfully as I opened the door giving Sam the one-fingered salute.
"You're just high on dope Sam, we're really wearing out pajamas" Abby grinned and the door opened.
"Pajamas?" Cary Retlin asked standing on my doorstep next to Alan Grey.
I blinked slowly, realizing I was wearing the skimpiest outfit I'd ever worn in my life.
"What are you doing here?" I asked confused.
"Alan told me on the phone what the babysitters club were up to" he said and then he narrowed his eyes.
"And I couldn't in good conscience let a bunch of teenage girls run around New York with only this goof chaperoning them" he said and before I could react Abby brushed past in a cloud of Karen's Tommy girl Perfume.
"I'm not a goof I'm a dweeb, or a charismatic class clown," Alan said glaring at Cary.
"Thanks Cary that was really thoughtful of you" she said shooting me a knowing look, I sighed with extreme reluctance.
"Yes it was, surprisingly," I said and he eyed Abby and I.
"You're not wearing that are you?" he asked.
"Yes I am actually, occasionally I like to prove that I am in fact a girl," I said folding my arms and he looked amused for a second.
"Its just club Debaser? It happens to be a Goth club," he said.
"A what?" Abby asked looking confused and he grinned again.
"Never mind you'll find out," he said and he turned his heavy black duster flapping in the muggy spring air.
"You know it was my idea to go out with the BSC Cary, why are you always stealing my ideas?" I heard Alan hiss furiously as he ran to Cary.
Abby and I followed him, after all what else could we do?