"Babysitters Club 059 Mallory Hates Boys (And Gym)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Babysitters Club)

the others up for sitting jobs in the evenings. Then Stacey came back, and the BSC had seven members. That's fine, though. We just keep getting more and more work. There're plenty of jobs for everyone.
This is how the club works. We hold meetings every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday between five-thirty and six o'clock. That's when parents call Claudia's number. Someone answers the phone and takes down information about the sitting job. The phone answerer then says she'll call the parent back. Once she hangs up, we put our heads together and see who can take the job.
Mary Anne keeps the club record book. (Another one of Kristy's great ideas.) The record book holds all our important information: clients' names, addresses, and phone numbers; how much each client pays; important notes about the children such as if they're allergic to anything. But most important, it contains everyone's schedule. In it are my orthodontist appointments, Jessi's dance class schedule, Kristy's softball practice schedule, birthdays. You name it, it's in there! This is how we know who is available to sit and when. Mary Anne keeps the book better than a professional secretary. She has never, ever, made one scheduling error.
Once Mary Anne checks the book, she tells us who is free to take the job. We decide who will do it, then we call the client back and tell him whom to expect.
Sometimes the phone rings constantly for the entire half hour. Other times, it's a little slower. But no matter what, the half hour whizzes by. There's so much to do.
Stacey keeps track of how much money each of us has been paid. And she collects the dues. No one is crazy about that, but it has to be done. We need the money to help Claudia pay her phone bill, and to pay Charlie Thomas (Kristy's oldest brother) to drive her to meetings, since her new neighborhood is kind of far away.
We also use the money to resupply our Kid-Kits. (Another great Kristy idea!) Kid-Kits are boxes filled with crayons, coloring books, our old toys, and lots of fun stuff for the kids to play with. The kits keep the kids busy, and have helped distract kids who were unhappy for one reason or another.
If any money is left over, we use it for something fun, like a slumber party or a pizza lunch. That's the good part about paying dues.
While all this is going on, we're also busy with the club notebook. Members are doing one of two things with it: reading it, or writing
in it. The notebook is a diary of our babysitting experiences. Some club members hate to write in it, but not me. I also like to read it. It's interesting and very helpful. You can learn how the other baby-sitters solved sitting problems.
We were in the middle of discussing whether or not we should buy these little rubber pop-up suction toys for the Kid-Kits or if they were too dangerous for the youngest kids, when the phone rang.
"Hello, Mrs. Bruno," said Claudia, rolling her eyes playfully at Logan. "Sure. Someone can sit for Hunter and Kerry. But why not just ask Logan?"
Logan began waving his hands and shaking his head.
"I see ... I see . . ." Claudia spoke into the phone. "Well, all right. I'll call you back. 'Bye."
"What's up, Logan?" Kristy asked.
"I complained to my mom that I'm tired of baby-sitting all the time. I guess she's trying to take some of the load off me," he explained. "I'll bet she wants you next Tuesday at seven so she and Dad can go to a PTA meeting together."
"Exactly right," Claud confirmed.
Mary Anne opened the record book and
studied it. Then she bit her lip and looked at Logan. "Nobody is free that night. I guess a lot of parents are going to that meeting."
"I really wanted to watch a football game at Pete Black's house that night. He gets the sports channel. Why don't you call Shannon?" said Logan.
Claud-.dialed Shannon, but she was busy. "Oh, okay," Logan said with a sigh. "I guess I'll have to do it."
Claud called Mrs. Bruno back and gave her the news. Her baby-sitter would be Logan. "Your mother said to tell you she tried her best," said Claudia to Logan as she hung up the phone.
Logan shrugged. "I wish her better luck next time."
Several minutes later the meeting ended. We gathered our things and headed down Claudia's staks. When I hit the outside air, it sent a shiver up my spine. "Boy, it's getting cold," I said to Jessi. "I hope it's warmer Monday. Otherwise we'll freeze outside during gym."
Jessi turned up her jacket collar as we walked across the yard. "No we won't," she told me. "We're not playing field hockey anymore. Monday we switch to volleyball."
"Yuck! Volleyball," I grumbled.
"I don't mind volleyball so much/' said Jessi. "But this year we're going to be playing with the boys."
I stopped dead in my tracks. "The boys! Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure. Don't you remember Ms. Walden telling us about it in September?"
Now that she mentioned it, I did. I suppose I'd blocked it from my mind - the way people do when they are presented with facts too horrible to conceive of.
I was expected to appear in front of a bunch of boys in my gross, disgusting gym suit and demonstrate that I was probably the most klutzy, uncoordinated girl in the sixth grade.
Chapter 3.
Monday morning my eyes snapped open before the alarm even rang. It was gym day. The day of doom!
Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled out of bed and pulled open my closet door. I fished through the jumble of clothes until, way in the back, I found a one-piece denim jumpsuit. It had been a present for my last birthday. I never wear it. Not because I hate it or anything. It's just not me. It's a little too high-style or something.
But it would be perfect for today. With one zip* I could step into it and zoom out that door after gym class. No buckles and buttons to slow me down. It was important that I be able to get out of there fast. I had to disappear into the hall and get to my next class as soon as possible. I didn't want any pitying - or worse, laughing - eyes staring at me in the locker room. After all, I had no doubt that this
was going to be the most mortifying day of my entire life.
"Did the alarm ring?" Vanessa asked sleepily from under the covers.
"No. I just got up, that's all," I snapped. Vanessa made a face at me. I couldn't blame her. Even I was surprised at how crabby I sounded.
"What's the matter with you?" she grumbled as she swung her legs out of bed.
"Nothing. Sorry," I answered. I didn't even want to talk about it.
At breakfast, Mom kept looking at me strangely. Maybe it was because I was wearing the jumpsuit. Or maybe it was because I was stirring my Cheerios round and round without taking a bite. I had no appetite at all.
"Mal, is something wrong?" she asked at last.
"Nothing except that I look disgusting in my gym suit and I inherited totally unathletic genes from someone," I blurted out.
"Don't look at your mother and me," said my father, coming into the kitchen. "We play a mean game of tennis."
I stood and gathered my books. "Then it was probably some great-aunt who died from embarrassment one day during a volleyball game or whatever they played back then."
"I'm sure you're blowing this out of pro-
portion, Mallory," my mother said sympathetically. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"No," I replied. Then my eyes lit with an idea. "Maybe 1 could stay home today. I'd study in my room all day long. 1 promise."
For one shining moment, 1 thought I had a chance. My mother looked at my father as if she were considering saying okay.
Then, once again, my charming brothers ruined everything.