Claudia And The New Girl Part 10

"Let's see," said Mary Anne. "You're free then, Claud. Want the job?"

"Sure!" I replied. I called Mrs. Newton back to give her the information. As I was talking, I began to feel like a real, official club member again. "Boy," I said when I'd hung up. "It sure is good to be back with you guys."

"Claudia?" asked Mary Anne seriously from the spot on my bed. "What happened?"

"What happened?" I repeated. "What do you mean?"

"I mean with Ashley and the club and us."

"Oh. That. ... I just got carried away, I guess. You have to understand something. Hardly anybody ever tells me I'm really good at something. I mean, actually talented. When you're me, that just doesn't happen often."

"We always say how good you are in art," Mary Anne pointed out, looking hurt.

"I know. And that means a lot. But the thing is, if you'll excuse me for saying this, you guys don't know much about art. So your comments are nice but. . . when Ashley came along, and she was an excellent artist and she had even studied at Keyes, well, her comments meant a lot. Suddenly I felt very important. At least I did when I was with her. And I didn't want to lose that."

Mary Anne and Stacey were nodding slowly.

"I see,"'said Stacey. "I understand."

"But it turned out that Ashley only liked my talent," I went on. "I mean, she liked the person she thought I was, and she doesn't really want to hang around anyone who isn't an artist. But that's not what makes a friends.h.i.+p, is it? I mean, if we didn't like baby-sitting, we would still be friends."

"Right," said Stacey.

"Right," said Dawn, Kristy, and Mary Anne.

"And now," added Kristy, "let's get down to business. Where's the treasury? We have money to count, dues to be paid."

We all got to work.

And I thought, I'm back, I'm really back!

Chapter 15.

"Oh, I am so nervous. I am so nervous!" I kept exclaiming.

"Relax, Claud, you're going to give yourself apoplexy," said Kristy.

I was even too nervous to ask Kristy what apoplexy was.

It was 7:45 in the evening. Milling around in front of Stoneybrook's new art gallery were a bunch of students from the Arts Center and their families and friends. I was there with Mom, Dad, Mimi, my sister Janine, and the members of the Baby-sitters Club.

In exactly fifteen minutes, the front door was going to open and everyone would be allowed inside to see the new gallery - and the Arts Center sculpture show. I wasn't nervous about the opening of the gallery. That was exciting, but it wasn't enough to give me appendicitis, or whatever Kristy had said. No, I was nervous because of a phone call I'd gotten that afternoon. I'd picked up the receiver, and Ms. Baehr had been on the other end of the line.

"Claudia?" she'd said.

"Yes?" I'd replied, trying to get over my shock. (You just never expect a teacher to call you at home.) "I have to tell you something. I'm not sure I should have done this, but I did, so it's too late." She paused. "I entered your sculpture of Jackie in the art show."

"You what?!" I cried. "But it isn't finished! It's, maybe, half-finished."

"I know. I entered it as a work-in-progress. It's wonderful, Claudia. I want people to see it. ... Claudia?"

"I'm still here. I - don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just come to the show tonight. Bring your family. By the time the gallery opens, the prizes will have been awarded."

So you can see why I was nervous. I didn't think I'd won an award. Not for a work-in-progress. But that half-finished piece was going to be on display. And I didn't want anyone laughing at it.

Oh, I thought now, I should never have mentioned the show to my friends. Why had I done that? (Maybe because I'd still been in shock.) Of course they'd wanted to come - Mary Anne had even brought her father - and now they'd be around to see the laughers.

A new worry came to me. Ashley would be there and she'd see the laughers, too, only she'd probably join them.

I shook my head. What a mess.

A murmur in the crowd made me stop worrying. The front door was opening. People were streaming inside.

My heart began to beat as loudly as a train running down a track. I could feel it pumping in my throat.

"I think I'm going to faint," I said to Stacey.

"Oh, Claud, you are not/' she replied. Nevertheless, she reached out her hand and I grabbed it. We entered the exhibit like two little kids on their first day of kindergarten.

My family, my friends, and I stood in a group and looked around. The new art gallery was lovely. It was all carpeted and quiet, and everything was gray or white - so as not to distract from the art that was on display. Usually, I guessed, paintings would be hung on the movable part.i.tions that divided the gallery into rooms, but now our sculptures stood proudly on brown pedestals. I could see about twenty in the room we had entered. The rest must be in other rooms. Ms. Baehr had said about sixty pieces were on display.

Still gripping hands, Stacey and I began walking from sculpture to sculpture. Some of them were hard to see because of the crowd, but we waited patiently or stood on tiptoe until we could get a glimpse of each one. I was determined not to miss a thing.

"Look! There's something by Mary Drabek!" exclaimed Dawn. "She's in my math cla.s.s."

"Hey, she got a third-prize ribbon!" said Kristy, wiggling her way closer to the sculpture.

"This is very impressive, honey," my mother said to me. "I think the new gallery is wonderful. You should be proud to be in its first exhibit."

I nodded my head. I was afraid to speak. Where was my sculpture of Jackie? I didn't hear any laughing. . . .

Stacey and I had finally dropped hands. Soon I got separated from my family and the club members, so I wandered around by myself. I made a complete tour of the first room and didn't find Jackie.

I entered the next room.

The first piece I saw was a boxing cow by John Steiner. It hadn't won an award.

The next piece was Fiona MacRae's. It was the stag she'd been working on. The second-prize ribbon was attached to it.

I pa.s.sed a rabbit, two little girls holding hands, a man reading a newspaper, and a baseball player.

And then I reached a small crowd of people. They weren't laughing so they couldn't have been looking at Jackie. I edged closer, squeezing between a man who smelled of tobacco and a woman with a baby in a Snuggli. There on a brown pedestal was Ashley's fireplug. The blue first-prize ribbon hung jauntily in front of it.

I was amazed. Somehow, Ashley really had managed to make that hydrant come to life. And the judges must have appreciated what she'd done.

"It's an animated inanimate object," I heard a voice explain.

Ashley.

There she was.

Our eyes met.

I smiled. "Congratulations," I mouthed to her.

Ashley nodded at me and then smiled back.

I left the room. Suddenly, I wasn't very interested in finding my sculpture. I didn't care where it was or whether anyone was laughing at it. Maybe I should have listened to Ashley more. Maybe I really could have learned from her.

But just at that moment, I heard an excited squeal behind me.

"Claudia!" Kristy cried. She had grabbed my arm and was jumping up and down. "Come see what I found!"

Kristy led me into a third room. Then she picked up her pace and pulled me straight through it, nearly knocking a bunch of people over.

"What is it?" I exclaimed, half-annoyed, half-amused.

"It's . . . this sculpture!"

In front of me was Jackie. Kristy had been the first of us to find it. Right away, I noticed two things: no one was laughing at it, and a green ribbon had been fixed to the pedestal.

"You got an honorable mention!" said Kristy.

"For a work-in-progress," I marveled.

"You would have won first prize if you'd finished," someone spoke up behind me.

It was Ms. Baehr.

"I would have?"

She nodded. "The judges were very impressed."

"You'll have to tell Jackie," said Kristy.

"I'll say."

The next half hour was one of the most exciting I've ever known. My parents and sister and Mimi and Mary Anne and her dad and Dawn and Stacey all crowded around to look at and exclaim over the half-finished sculpture of Jackie. Then a Stoneybrook News photographer took a picture of all the winners, even the three of us who just got honorable mentions. She said that the photo and an article about us and the gallery would appear in the paper a few days later.

All that night people kept congratulating me. Even my sister, who wants to be a physicist and whose head is usually in the clouds, said, "This must be most rewarding for you. You're among very talented company." And Mimi hugged me to her and said, "I love you, my Claudia."

The next day I was sitting with my friends in the cafeteria. We were back to our regular old lunch routine. Kristy and Mary Anne had bought the hot lunch, Dawn had brought a health food lunch from home, and Stacey and I had bought sandwiches.

Kristy was saying, "You know the smell of sneakers after gym cla.s.s? And you know the smell of Cuthbert Athlete's Foot Creme? Well, if you mixed those smells together, wouldn't they smell just like this pot roast?" and Mary Anne was practically gagging, when I glanced up and saw Ashley walk by our table with her tray. She was alone as usual, looking for a place to sit.

I'm not sure what got into me, but I jumped up and ran to her. I touched her arm. "Ashley?"

"Yes?" she replied, turning around. "Oh . . . Claudia."

"Um, I was wondering. Do you have someplace to sit? I mean, would you like to sit with my friends and me?"

"With you?" Ashley glanced at the members of the Baby-sitters Club who were, of course, watching us curiously. "Well ..."

"Oh, come on," I said. I knew perfectly well that Ashley and I would never be best friends. And I knew she would never understand my interest in baby-sitting. I would never understand how she could think only of art. But we did have things in common. I felt that we could be friendly. I wanted to give it a try, at least.

I pulled Ashley over to our table. "Go ahead. Sit down," I said.

Ashley did, somewhat reluctantly.

Kristy scowled at me, and I knew why. Ashley looked just plain weird in her outfit - a long knitted vest over an even longer s.h.i.+rt which she was wearing tails-out over a skirt that didn't match either the vest or the skirt. And there were those hiking boots again.

But the first thing Ashley did when she sat down was sniff at her lunch and say, "You know what this meat smells like?"

"Old sneakers and athlete's foot creme?" suggested Kristy.

"Well, I was going to say turpentine, rubber cement, and acrylic paint," replied Ashley. "I guess that's pretty much the same."

Kristy grinned. "Yeah, I guess so."

And then we began to laugh. All of us. Afterward, Ashley and I got into a discussion about sculpture, and my friends listened. Then my friends and I got into a discussion about baby-sitting for kids who don't like babysitters, and Ashley listened.

When lunch was over, we left the cafeteria together.

After that day, Ashley sometimes sat with us but often sat alone. Either way, it was okay. She and I had become sometimes friends, and that was okay, too. Like Jackie Rodowsky's accidents, those things just happened -sometimes.

About the Author.

ANN M. MARTIN did a lot of baby-sitting when she was growing up in Princeton, New Jersey. Now her favorite baby-sitting charge is her cat, Mouse, who lives with her in her Manhattan apartment.

Ann Martin's Apple Paperbacks are b.u.mmer Summer, Inside Out, Stage Fright, Me and Katie (the Pest), and all the other books in the Babysitters Club series.

She is a former editor of books for children, and was graduated from Smith College. She likes ice cream, the beach, and I Love Lucy; and she hates to cook.