Claudia And The New Girl Part 9

'"Bye."

'"Bye."

That wasn't much of a start, but it was something. I'd just have to be patient, and I certainly better turn up at the meeting.

I spent the rest of the evening and a lot of that weekend doing homework and looking at the sketches I'd made of Jackie. By the time I went to bed on Sunday, I'd reached an important decision.

"Ms. Baehr?"

"Yes, Claudia?"

Another art cla.s.s was over. Ashley had sat in the front of the room. I'd sat in the back. With the sketches of Jackie spread across the table, I'd begun my sculpture. Now, the rest of the students were gone. I'd just called Ms. Baehr over to look at my work.

"I like the subject you finally chose," she said, smiling approvingly.

"Me, too," I replied. "But I'm not going to be able to finish this in time for the show. I've only got one more week. I have schoolwork to catch up on - you know how my parents feel about that - and other things to do, too. So I'm not going to enter anything in the show. I'll talk to Mom and Dad tonight. I'll work on this sculpture for cla.s.s, but it won't be ready for the show."

"Claudia, I wish you'd re-think this," replied Ms. Baehr. "If you work hard, I think you could finish in time."

"Only if I drop everything else, and I don't want to do that."

Ms. Baehr nodded. "All right. I respect your decision."

"Thanks," I said. "Thanks a lot."

I did talk to my parents that night. They were surprised that I'd decided not to be in the show, but they have this thing about school. They think it is very, very, VERY important. So when they heard that I was putting school before art, they were delighted. Even though they tried not to show it.

After I was finished talking with my parents I went to my room, settled myself at my desk, and looked over the lists I'd made the night before. I'd done everything on the Friends list so I threw it away. I'd done everything on the Sculpture Show list so I threw that away, too. My School Work list was not in such good shape, which wasn't surprising. Hardly anything having to do with schoolwork is in good shape if I'm involved.

However, I had asked Mrs. Hall if I could take the spelling test again - and she'd said yes! I reached into my pencil jar so I could cross off item number one. I pulled out a pencil with a piece of paper wrapped around it.

I sighed. Another note.

I unrolled the paper. The note was in Kristy's handwriting. It said: Famous jerks - Benedict Arnold, the Wicked Witch of the West, Claudia Kis.h.i.+.

I threw away the note and crossed off number one on the list. I couldn't cross off two, three, or four, though. But that was all right. Soon I'd be able to. I was almost finished with The Twenty-One Balloons and I'd taken A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle out of the library. While I was thinking about it, I opened A Wrinkle in Time and read the first sentence. "It was a dark and stormy night." Well, that didn't sound so bad. In fact, it sounded kind of like the Nancy Drew books I like so much. And the t.i.tles of the first three chapters were "Mrs. Whatsit," "Mrs. Who," and "Mrs. Which." They sounded like fun! I looked longingly at the book as I put it aside to start studying for my spelling test. Maybe finis.h.i.+ng up my School Work list would go quickly after all. I smiled.

And tomorrow I would go to a meeting of the Baby-sitters Club.

Chapter 14.

The next day, I packed a lunch (something I hardly ever do) and at lunchtime went to the Resource Room. I'd done that the last couple of days, too. This time, I brought The Twenty-One Balloons with me. I had finished reading it, and now I needed someone to quiz me on the spelling of the hard words so I could get ready to retake the spelling test. One of the Resource Room teachers worked hard with me during the whole lunch period. I was proud of myself. Maybe I wouldn't get an A on the test, but I thought I could get a C or even a B.

After school, I had to do a ch.o.r.e. Well, maybe ch.o.r.e isn't the right word, but I had to do something I didn't want to do. That certainly sounded like a ch.o.r.e.

As soon as I got home, 1 jumped on my bike and rode over to Jackie Rodowsky's house. The Rodowskys weren't expecting me, so Jack-125 ie's mother was a little surprised to see me standing on the front stoop.

"Claudia!" she said. "Has there been a mix-up? Did I - "

"Oh, no," I interrupted. "I came to talk to Jackie. Is he home from school yet?"

"He got here a few minutes ago. Come on in, honey."

Mrs. Rodowsky led me inside just as Jackie came bounding downstairs, leaped over the last three, stumbled against a table as he landed, and knocked a vase to the floor. Luckily, it landed on the rug and didn't break.

"Whoops," said Jackie.

Mrs. Rodowsky shook her head. But all she said was, "Jackie, Claudia's here to see you." Then she disappeared into the kitchen.

"Claudia!" Jackie exclaimed. "Are you going to start sculpting my head?"

"Not today," I replied. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Come sit with me." I sat down on a sofa and patted the cus.h.i.+on next to me.

Jackie charged across the room and threw himself down on the couch, accidentally kicking my right knee.

"Ow!" I couldn't help crying out.

"Oops. Sorry."

"Jackie," I began, rubbing my knee, "I came over to tell you something. I'm really sorry, but I'm not going to be able to put you in the show after all."

Jackie had been bouncing and wiggling around. Now he stopped. "You're not?" he said. His eyes began to fill with tears.

"No," I replied. As simply as I could, I explained how I'd run out of time.

Jackie didn't say anything. He poked the end of his shoelace inside his sock.

"I'd still like to sculpt you, though," I told him.

"You would?"

"Yup. I showed the drawings of you to my teacher and she really liked them. She wants me to sculpt you, too."

"But no show?"

"No show. . . . Would you like to be my model anyway?"

Jackie screwed up his face in thought. "Yes," he replied at last.

"Great!" I said. "I'm sure you're going to be a terrific model. I am sorry about the show, but I wanted you to know the truth if I was going to sculpt you."

Jackie nodded. "You know what, Claudia?"

"What?"

"I love you." Jackie wrapped his arms around my waist and I hugged him back.

I was glad I'd been honest with him. A smile spread across my face as I realized something. I hadn't been baby-sitting much lately and I missed little kids. Only someone Jackie's age would hug me and thank me when I'd just disappointed him.

When I left the Rodowskys' I rode over to the public library. I worked on my War of 1812 project again. But when the clock over the front door said 5:10, I gathered up my papers and notebook, hopped on my bike, and rode home. I reached my house at 5:31 and ran to my room. Kristy, Mary Anne, Dawn, and Stacey were already there.

"Hi, everybody!" I exclaimed. "I'm back!"

I flopped onto the floor and looked around. Kristy was sitting in the director's chair, drinking a soda and wearing her visor. Mary Anne and Dawn were lying across my bed on their backs. Stacey was perched on my desk.

"Hi," the others replied. They didn't look at me.

"Any calls yet?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Good. Then it's time for ..." I reached under my bed and pulled out a Hershey's Kisses bag, only I knew there weren't any Hershey's Kisses in it. I held the bag out. "Everyone has to take one, even you, Stacey."

"But I can't - " she began.

I held up my hand for silence. Then I offered the bag to Kristy. She reached in and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Everyone else did the same.

"Now," I said, "who has the paper with the number one on it?"

"I do," said Dawn, unfolding the note.

"Okay, you read yours first. Then whoever has number two, read yours. And then three and then four, okay? Dawn?"

Dawn cleared her throat. " 'Friends/ " she announced, reading the t.i.tle. " 'Long ago in another time, I had four friends and they were mine.' " Dawn stopped and looked around.

"Oh," said Stacey. "Urn, 'Then I found an artist who, said I am good and so are you.' "

" 'So I followed her here and there,' " read Kristy, " 'and round and round and everywhere.' " She giggled.

" 'But/ " went on Mary Anne, " 'she was false and it took you, to show me friends that are really true.' "

When Mary Anne was finished, no one said anything.

"I guess," I spoke up, "that's my way of saying I'm sorry. And that I kind of learned the hard way who my real friends are. I, um, really missed you guys. And baby-sitting. And meetings. And I'm sick to death of animated objects or whatever they're called. I know you're still mad, but I hope we can be friends again. Someday."

"Oh, that is so sad and lovely!" cried Mary Anne and burst into tears.

At that, Kristy burst out laughing.

"Lunatics," said Stacey. "We have a club full of fools."

"Club of fools!" I repeated, and then everyone laughed, even Mary Anne.

"I'm not asking you guys to forgive me right now," I went on. "I know it'll take time - "

"Claudia, Claudia, Claudia," said Stacey. "Save your breath. We forgive you."

"You do?" I asked.

"We do?" Kristy asked.

"Yes," said Stacey firmly, glaring at Kristy, "we do."

I began to feel teary-eyed myself then. "I don't deserve friends as good as you," I choked out. "I'm too lucky."

"Oh, Claudia!" wailed Stacey. She slid off the desk and ran over to me and we hugged.

"Hey, are you wearing new perfume?" I asked her, sniffing.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed. "Do you like it? It's called Moonlight Mist."

"It's fabulous."

"Let me smell," said the others, crowding in.

"Ooh, nice," breathed Dawn.

"Heavenly," added Mary Anne.

"It's okay - if you want to smell like a rosebed," said Kristy.

We were all talking at the same time.

"What's wrong with a rosebed?" Mary Anne wanted to know.

"Can I try some?" I asked.

"Sure, I've got the bottle right here in - "

Ring, ring.

The phone!

"Oh, can I get it? Puh-Zease? It feels like years since I've taken a job call," I exclaimed.

"Go to it," replied Kristy.

"h.e.l.lo, Baby-sitters Club," I said, picking up the receiver. "Yes. . . . Yes. . . . Oh, no problem. . . . Sure. Okay, call you right back. 'Bye." I hung up the phone and faced the others. Mary Anne was holding the record book in her lap, pencil poised.

"Who was it?" asked Kristy.

"Mrs. Newton. She needs a sitter for Jamie and Lucy next Thursday evening. It won't be a late night. They'll be back by nine."