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The All-New Mallory Pike

Page 9

by Ann M. Martin


  “Wow,” Smita said.

  “Oh, man,” Jen added.

  “I know,” I said. “Hurricane Alexis just hit room nine.”

  A few other girls from Earhart showed up, and Sarah organized everybody into a cleanup crew. Within half an hour, the room looked pretty normal again. Everybody talked and laughed as they worked. The main topic of conversation was Alexis, and nobody had anything nice to say about her.

  I was stationed near the bureau, folding clothes. I watched as everyone helped me out, repairing the damage Alexis had done, and I knew I was lucky to have found such good friends so soon after starting at a new school.

  I thought about it. I’d only been at Riverbend for a week and a half, and it seemed as if I already had more friends than Alexis, who had been here for a year and a half. I never saw Alexis hanging out with other girls. She seemed to eat most of her meals by herself, study by herself, take walks by herself. Maybe she liked it that way — but I couldn’t believe she did. Why did she have such a hard time interacting with people? I was still angry at Alexis, but just for a moment I honestly felt sorry for her again.

  The room was almost back to its original state when there was another knock at the door and Jane Maxwell entered. She looked around at my group of helpers and smiled. “I see you have everything under control here,” she said. “Nice job. Now, would you all mind giving Mallory and me a few minutes alone?”

  “We’re history!” Sarah proclaimed. She waved an arm and led everyone out of the room.

  “Sit down, Mallory,” Jane said. I sat cross-legged on my bed, and Jane sat on my desk chair.

  “First of all, I think I owe you an apology,” Jane continued.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand.

  “It wasn’t fair to start you off at Riverbend with a roommate who was known to be —” she paused, “difficult.” She looked down at her hands. “At the time we were making room assignments, it seemed easiest. And we knew from your application that you come from a big family and are used to sharing a room. We thought that if anyone could room with Alexis, it would be you.” She sighed.

  “I could try again —” I began.

  “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not fair to ask that of you. The situation has already gone too far.”

  “But how —” She’d already told me how complicated it would be to make a room switch.

  “Under the circumstances, we’re committed to finding a way to accommodate you. Unfortunately, there’s one problem. There are no empty rooms available right now.”

  Oh. So I was stuck with Alexis until a room opened up.

  “However,” Jane went on, “there is one possibility. I noticed that Jen Bodner was in here helping you clean up, so obviously you’ve already met her.”

  I nodded. “She’s sort of a friend,” I told Jane.

  “Well, then you know she’s currently living in a single room. If — and this is a big ‘if’ — if she were willing to give that room to Alexis and move in with you, our problem would be solved.”

  “I can’t ask her to do that!” I protested.

  “But I can,” said Jane. “And I’m glad to. She can always say no. And if she does, I think you’ll understand. It may just be that she prefers living alone. It’s not necessarily a reflection on you.”

  I nodded. “Absolutely,” I said. I tried to ignore the hopeful feeling that was rising inside me. After all, I knew that Jen liked me. But would she want to live with me? She’d have to give up a lot: space, privacy, a room all to herself. That would be crazy. Wouldn’t it?

  “I’ll talk to her right now,” Jane continued. “That is, if this idea works for you.”

  “Oh, it works just fine for me,” I exclaimed. “Thank you!”

  After Jane left, I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes. It had been a very long day, and suddenly I felt exhausted. I was too tired to do any more cleaning, too tired to write in my journal, too tired to pick up a book, too tired to think. I just lay there.

  A knock came on the door. I sat up, my heart thudding. Was it Alexis? I didn’t feel ready to face her.

  Another knock. I stood up, walked unsteadily to the door, and opened it.

  Jen was standing there.

  Beaming.

  “Hey, roomie,” she said.

  I started to beam too. “Really?” I said. “You don’t mind?”

  “Mind?” she asked. “Are you kidding? I was dying of loneliness up there. Sure, it was nice to have the space. But I’d much rather have a cool roomie.”

  That was me. I was the cool roomie.

  Cool.

  I couldn’t have been happier. This was all I needed to make my life at Riverbend perfect.

  A few nights later, I sat on my bed, journal in my lap. Jen was at her desk, working quietly. I looked around the room, enjoying the satisfaction it gave me to see my BSC collage on the wall, my things on my half of the dresser top. This room belonged to both of us, to me and Jen.

  I began to daydream again, just as I had the night before I left Stoneybrook. Only this time, instead of picturing myself leaving a place, I pictured myself arriving.

  I imagined myself flying high above the ground, soaring with outstretched arms as I took off from Stoneybrook and circled over all the old familiar sights before I rose and flew over Connecticut, over Massachusetts. I saw myself gliding toward Riverbend and steering straight for Earhart. Then I was slipping in through the window of room nine, where Smita, Sarah, Jen, Pam, and some other familiar girls stood waiting. (Alexis, I have to say, was not among them.) Jen was in front, holding a huge cake lit with bright candles. I pictured myself floating closer, in order to read what was written on the cake.

  WELCOME, it said. WELCOME, MALLORY!

  In my daydream, I read it out loud and laughed. The other girls laughed too, and told me to blow out the candles.

  I did.

  And I felt welcome.

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  For several months, Mallory had been having problems fitting in at school. She’s a good student and she has friends in Stoneybrook, but she was unhappy and felt she didn’t fit in at SMS. Worse, she felt her teachers didn’t understand her.

  The All-New Mallory Pike represents Mallory’s successful struggle to find her place in school, even though it means changing schools altogether. Mallory’s decision to leave Stoneybrook may have been surprising, but sometimes you just need a big change. I didn’t go away to school until college, but when I did, I remember the exhilarating feeling of being able to start fresh. There’s nothing like a chance to make all-new friends, meet all-new teachers, and try on an all-new life. It was a very exciting time.

  Mallory’s solution to her problems might not work for everyone, but it was the best choice for her.

  Happy reading,

  * * *

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Ellen Miles

  for her help in

  preparing this manuscript.

  About the Author

  ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.

  There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.

  Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.

  Copyright © 1999 by Ann M. Martin

  Cover art by Hodges Soileau

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or regist
ered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authorís imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition, January 1999

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-87469-4

 

 

 


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