to tell you about it right away."
"Thank goodness," I said, "because I'm not too sure about an, um, inanimate object."
"I know — " Ashley began.
"Hi, Claudia."
"Hi, Claudia."
"Hi, Claudia."
"Hi, Claudia."
I turned around. There were the other members of the Baby-sitters Club. I was really glad they'd come to talk. They hardly ever do that when Ashley's around.
"Hi, you guys!" I replied. I waited for my friends to say hi to Ashley or for Ashley to say hi to my friends, but none of them spoke.
"Well . . ."I said nervously.
"We missed you at the meeting yesterday," said Kristy pointedly.
"I'm sorry. I had to think about — "
"We know, we know. Your sculpture," said Dawn.
Stacey eyed Ashley critically. "Nice dress," she commented.
Ashley flushed with embarrassment, but she didn't reply. We all knew Stacey was being sarcastic.
"Do you suppose you'll be able to clear time in your busy schedule to get to the next meeting?" Dawn asked me.
I looked at her in surprise. What kind of question was that from our even-tempered alternate officer?
"I plan to," was all I replied.
"I hope you approve of that," said Kristy to Ashley.
Ashley, still looked awfully uncomfortable. "Claudia," she began uncertainly, and then seemed to gain some confidence. "Claudia is an artist — "
"Don't remind us," interrupted Kristy.
"She's an artist," Ashley went on, "and she needs to spend time on her work."
"What are you? Her tutor or something?" asked Stacey.
"I'm her mentor," replied Ashley, as serious as always.
Well, that put a stop to things for a moment or two because only Ashley knew what a mentor was. (I looked it up in the dictionary later. It means a wise and trusted teacher. I guess that's better than a plain old tutor.)
"If Claudia is going to develop her talents
to the fullest — and I do think she can go a long way in the world of art — "
(I beamed again. I couldn't help it. You just don't shrug off compliments like that one.)
" — she has to devote as much time as possible to her art," Ashley finished.
"But she does," insisted Mary Anne. "Plenty of time." And I thought, my friends really don't understand, do they?
Ashley shook her head. "Spending time on anything else, especially baby-sitting, is just a waste."
"Hey," said Kristy, turning angrily to me, "does this mean you're quitting the club? It would be nice if you'd let us know. We'd like to hold the meetings somewhere other than in your room, if you are. And of course we'll have to give our clients our new phone number, make up new fliers, all sorts of things."
"I'm not quitting the club!" I exclaimed.
"Could have fooled us," said Stacey.
"Yeah," spoke up Mary Anne, sounding unusually fierce.
"We could use a little warning if you are," said Kristy.
"I AM NOT QUITTING!" I cried.
"Good," said Kristy and Stacey.
"Good," I said.
"Good-bye," added Dawn and Mary Anne.
"Good-bye," I replied.
My four friends turned and walked off down the hall. I was left standing with Ashley. "Oh, who needs them anyway?" I said grumpily.
"Right," agreed Ashley. "Who needs friends when you have art?"
I tried to smile at Ashley, but it was difficult.
"Ew, ew! Get away from me! Get away!" shrieked Fiona McRae.
"Oooo-eeee-oooo. You'll never escape the Mud Monster from the deep." John Steiner, his hands dripping with watered-down clay, chased Fiona around the room.
This is the sort of thing that usually goes on at our art class if Ms. Baehr arrives a few minutes late. John and Fiona weren't the only kids acting up. Seth Turbin was making fake eyeballs out of his clay, and Mari Drabek was trying to fashion a pair of glasses for the eyeballs.
I kept looking around and giggling — especially at the eyeballs and glasses — but Ashley sat stiffly in front of her fire hydrant sculpture. She worked busily, not even .aware of the other kids. I wished I could be as focused as Ashley was.
"Good afternoon, class!" called Ms. Baehr's voice.
We snapped to attention. John ran
"Thank goodness," I said, "because I'm not too sure about an, um, inanimate object."
"I know — " Ashley began.
"Hi, Claudia."
"Hi, Claudia."
"Hi, Claudia."
"Hi, Claudia."
I turned around. There were the other members of the Baby-sitters Club. I was really glad they'd come to talk. They hardly ever do that when Ashley's around.
"Hi, you guys!" I replied. I waited for my friends to say hi to Ashley or for Ashley to say hi to my friends, but none of them spoke.
"Well . . ."I said nervously.
"We missed you at the meeting yesterday," said Kristy pointedly.
"I'm sorry. I had to think about — "
"We know, we know. Your sculpture," said Dawn.
Stacey eyed Ashley critically. "Nice dress," she commented.
Ashley flushed with embarrassment, but she didn't reply. We all knew Stacey was being sarcastic.
"Do you suppose you'll be able to clear time in your busy schedule to get to the next meeting?" Dawn asked me.
I looked at her in surprise. What kind of question was that from our even-tempered alternate officer?
"I plan to," was all I replied.
"I hope you approve of that," said Kristy to Ashley.
Ashley, still looked awfully uncomfortable. "Claudia," she began uncertainly, and then seemed to gain some confidence. "Claudia is an artist — "
"Don't remind us," interrupted Kristy.
"She's an artist," Ashley went on, "and she needs to spend time on her work."
"What are you? Her tutor or something?" asked Stacey.
"I'm her mentor," replied Ashley, as serious as always.
Well, that put a stop to things for a moment or two because only Ashley knew what a mentor was. (I looked it up in the dictionary later. It means a wise and trusted teacher. I guess that's better than a plain old tutor.)
"If Claudia is going to develop her talents
to the fullest — and I do think she can go a long way in the world of art — "
(I beamed again. I couldn't help it. You just don't shrug off compliments like that one.)
" — she has to devote as much time as possible to her art," Ashley finished.
"But she does," insisted Mary Anne. "Plenty of time." And I thought, my friends really don't understand, do they?
Ashley shook her head. "Spending time on anything else, especially baby-sitting, is just a waste."
"Hey," said Kristy, turning angrily to me, "does this mean you're quitting the club? It would be nice if you'd let us know. We'd like to hold the meetings somewhere other than in your room, if you are. And of course we'll have to give our clients our new phone number, make up new fliers, all sorts of things."
"I'm not quitting the club!" I exclaimed.
"Could have fooled us," said Stacey.
"Yeah," spoke up Mary Anne, sounding unusually fierce.
"We could use a little warning if you are," said Kristy.
"I AM NOT QUITTING!" I cried.
"Good," said Kristy and Stacey.
"Good," I said.
"Good-bye," added Dawn and Mary Anne.
"Good-bye," I replied.
My four friends turned and walked off down the hall. I was left standing with Ashley. "Oh, who needs them anyway?" I said grumpily.
"Right," agreed Ashley. "Who needs friends when you have art?"
I tried to smile at Ashley, but it was difficult.
"Ew, ew! Get away from me! Get away!" shrieked Fiona McRae.
"Oooo-eeee-oooo. You'll never escape the Mud Monster from the deep." John Steiner, his hands dripping with watered-down clay, chased Fiona around the room.
This is the sort of thing that usually goes on at our art class if Ms. Baehr arrives a few minutes late. John and Fiona weren't the only kids acting up. Seth Turbin was making fake eyeballs out of his clay, and Mari Drabek was trying to fashion a pair of glasses for the eyeballs.
I kept looking around and giggling — especially at the eyeballs and glasses — but Ashley sat stiffly in front of her fire hydrant sculpture. She worked busily, not even .aware of the other kids. I wished I could be as focused as Ashley was.
"Good afternoon, class!" called Ms. Baehr's voice.
We snapped to attention. John ran
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