Jessi's Gold Medal

Home > Childrens > Jessi's Gold Medal > Page 2
Jessi's Gold Medal Page 2

by Ann M. Martin


  In case you were worried, Kristy’s mom isn’t a single parent anymore. Let me explain. Ready to hear a real-life fairy tale? Here goes.

  Once upon a time, Kristy lived with her dad and mom and her older brothers, Charlie and Sam. When she was about six, two things happened. First another brother was born (David Michael). Then Mr. Thomas decided to split. No explanations, no nothing. He just ran off to California. And divorced Mrs. Thomas, and married someone else. (Needless to say, Kristy doesn’t like to talk about him, and I don’t blame her.) Things got tough for awhile, but Mrs. Thomas managed to hold down a job and bring up four kids. Then, a few years later, she started dating this nice guy named Watson Brewer, who was also divorced and happened to have two kids of his own, Karen and Andrew. He also happened to be a millionaire and he lived in a mansion across town. Mrs. Thomas and Watson got married, the Thomases moved into the mansion, and everyone lived happily ever after.

  Isn’t that a romantic story? It’s all true, too, especially the mansion part. It’s huge! Now the Brewer/Thomas family includes Emily Michelle, adopted from Vietnam; Nannie, Kristy’s grandmother; a dog; a cat; and two goldfish. Karen and Andrew live there only every other weekend, but even with them around there’s still plenty of room in the house.

  The mansion is pretty far from Claudia’s house, but Charlie drives Kristy to our meetings (he’s seventeen).

  There’s a good reason our meetings are at Claudia’s. She’s the only one of us who has her own phone. What’s Claudia like? In many ways, the opposite of Kristy. While Kristy’s super-practical, Claudia is a real artist. She can paint, sculpt, draw, and design jewelry. While Kristy’s brimming with ideas, Claudia’s brimming with … junk food! And I mean brimming. She has stuff hidden in every nook and cranny. Ring Dings, Milky Ways, pretzels, chips — if it’s bad for you, she has it. And she loves to share it with us. (As you can guess, BSC meetings are not dietetic.) Another way she’s different from Kristy is in style. Kristy’s short and tomboyish, and she usually dresses in jeans or sweats with running shoes. She hardly ever wears makeup, and she lets her long brown hair hang straight. Claudia, on the other hand, has probably never even heard of the word plain. To start with, she’s gorgeous — long, silky black hair and big, almond-shaped eyes (she’s Japanese-American). Her skin has not one blemish, even with all that junk food. And the way she dresses makes her look even more stunning.

  At that meeting, for example, she was wearing these sharply creased, pastel-green, cuffed shorts; a wild Hawaiian shirt tied at her waist, with vibrant colors that perfectly picked up the green; and sandals with crisscrossing ankle straps to her knees. Her hair was swept to one side and held in place with a long, fake-flowered barrette that looked like a Hawaiian lei.

  And, as usual, she was scrounging around under her mattress for some new treat. “Let’s see, they’re in here somewhere,” she said, pulling out a Nancy Drew book and throwing it aside. By the way, those books are her other addiction. She has to hide them and the junk food because her parents don’t approve of either. (They’re very strict, and it doesn’t help that Claud’s sister, Janine, is a real live genius who does everything right.)

  “Here they are!” Claudia cried out, pulling a bag of malted milk balls from under her pillow. “Who wants some?”

  Claudia is our vice-president, mostly because it’s her room and her phone. She doesn’t really have official duties, like, say Mary Anne.

  Mary Anne is our secretary. She keeps the record book, which has a list of all clients’ addresses and phone numbers, plus a detailed appointment calendar. As soon as a client calls, Mary Anne checks to see who is available. That means she has to keep track of all the sitting jobs and all of our schedules — my ballet classes, Claudia’s art classes, Mallory’s orthodontist appointments, any family trips … it’s enough to make your head spin. But for Mary Anne, it’s easy. She’s incredibly organized. I think she picks that up from her dad, who is a neatness freak. (No one knows what Mary Anne’s mom was like, because she died when Mary Anne was little.)

  Maybe her mom was caring and shy and sensitive. That’s the way Mary Anne is. She cries at anything — sad movies, deaths of famous people … Dawn says she once almost cried when she saw an abandoned Christmas tree in someone’s garbage last January. That is sensitive!

  Guess who is best friends with Mary Anne the Shy one? Kristy the Loud Mouth (don’t tell Kristy I said that). They even look alike. Mary Anne is petite and has brown hair and brown eyes. She’s not a tomboy, though, and she dresses with a kind of neat, preppy style. She used to look much different — little-girl clothes and pigtails, right up through seventh grade. That’s because Mr. Spier took a long time to realize Mary Anne had a mind of her own. Thank goodness he remarried. That really loosened him up, and Mary Anne was “allowed” to grow up. In fact, she’s the only one of us who has a steady boyfriend. His name is Logan Bruno and Mary Anne thinks he looks exactly like her favorite movie star, Cam Geary.

  Oh, I didn’t say who Mary Anne’s dad remarried: Dawn Schafer’s mom! That’s another romantic story. Mr. Spier and Mrs. Schafer both grew up in Stoneybrook. They used to date, but they ended up marrying other people. The Schafers lived in California for years, but then Dawn’s parents divorced. Mrs. Schafer moved back to Stoneybrook with Dawn and her younger brother Jeff (Jeff’s not here anymore; he decided to move back to California with his dad). They moved into this big, old farmhouse that was built in the 1700s. (Know what? It was once a stop on the Underground Railroad, which was an escape route to the North for African-American slaves.) Then Mrs. Schafer and Mr. Spier met again, realized they still loved each other, and got married! Mary Anne and her dad moved into Dawn’s house — and they lived happily ever after.

  Dawn has this long, blonde (almost white) hair, blue eyes, and freckles. She’s a real individual, and does what she wants to do. Like eating only health foods — vegetables, fruits, tofu, whole grains, sprouts. She never even gets tempted to eat Claudia’s candy. I mean it. Instead, she’ll eat whole wheat, unsalted sesame crackers or some other gross thing. To tell you the truth, she has the perfect diet for a ballerina, but I could never stick to it. I mean, I watch my weight, but give me a juicy hamburger over a tofu salad anytime.

  Dawn is our alternate officer, which means she takes over whenever anyone else is absent. For a while Stacey McGill moved to New York City, and Dawn took over Stacey’s job as treasurer. So the club was minus one member, but calls were pouring in. So guess who got to join? Mallory and I! (We weren’t in the original group.) Then Stacey ended up returning to Stoneybrook, and Dawn gave her back her job (gladly), but Mal and I remained members.

  Stacey is originally from New York City, by the way, and she knows her way around there like the back of her hand. (Isn’t that a weird saying? Do people really know the backs of their hands?) Now her dad lives there, while her mom lives in Stoneybrook (they’re divorced). I think NYC is the coolest place in the world. Once, when Stacey went there to visit her dad, a bunch of us went along. I saw some incredible dancers there — including a guy I like, named Quint. If I do decide to become a pro, that’s where I’m going to live.

  Like Dawn, Stacey has long, blonde hair. Like Claudia, she really knows how to dress. But Stace is definitely her own person — sophisticated, smart, outgoing, funny, and pretty wild about boys. She’s also a diabetic, which means her body can’t control the level of sugar in her blood. What does that mean? All I know is that she can’t eat sugar, and she has to give herself injections of something called insulin. Can you imagine? I’d probably pass out if I had to do that.

  One other thing about Stace. She’s a math genius. That’s how she became treasurer. I think that’s the worst job. Every Monday she has to collect dues from us. (Actually, paying the dues is the worst part.) She puts the money in our treasury. Then she pays Charlie Thomas for driving Kristy, and Claudia for part of her phone bill. And she figures out if we have any more expenses, like replacing Kid-Kit things when they get
used up. If anything is left over, we sometimes use it for a pizza party or some other fun thing.

  I mentioned before that there are two associate BSC members. One of them is Logan Bruno (yes, Mary Anne’s boyfriend), and the other is Shannon Kilbourne. But there’s another regular member of the BSC, and I saved her for last.

  She’s Mallory Pike, my best friend. Mal is really sweet and smart, and she loves kids. (If she didn’t love kids, she’d be in trouble, because she has seven younger brothers and sisters!) On the outside, we’re very different. She’s white and she has red hair, glasses, and braces. Otherwise, we have a lot in common. We’re both junior officers of the BSC, since we’re two years younger than the other members. (That means we get to do everything except late-night sitting jobs.) We’re both the oldest in our families, but even so, sometimes our parents treat us like babies. For instance, Mama and Daddy wouldn’t dream of letting me dress in wild clothes like Claudia does, or double-pierce my ears like Dawn. They let me pierce my ears (single), but I practically had to beg for years. Same with Mal and her parents, only it’s worse. Her parents won’t let her get contacts, and she hates wearing glasses.

  Let’s see, what else … oh, we both love reading, especially horse stories. And we’re both good at something creative. With me it’s dancing, with Mal it’s writing and drawing. You should read her stories. I think they’re better than some real books. I know she’s going to be a famous children’s book author and illustrator someday.

  Back to the meeting. We were stuffing ourselves with malt balls (except for Dawn and Stacey, who were eating rice cakes). The phone wasn’t ringing, so all you could hear was crunching.

  And the scratching of Claudia’s charcoal pencil. She was drawing this wild design with five circles in the middle. The circles were arranged just like the Olympics symbol.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I’m trying to come up with a logo for the SMS Sports Festival,” Claudia replied. “Mrs. Rosenaur asked me to do it.” (Mrs. Rosenaur is one of the gym teachers.)

  SMS, by the way, stands for Stoneybrook Middle School (our school). The Sports Festival is an annual event that includes mostly track and swimming. There had been an announcement about it at school that day.

  “Ew,” Mary Anne mumbled.

  “Thanks a lot,” Claudia said, putting her hands on her hips.

  Mary Anne actually blushed. “Oh, I didn’t mean the design,” Mary Anne said with a giggle. “I meant Mrs. Rosenaur. I hate gym.”

  “But you’re going to sign up for the festival, aren’t you?” Dawn said.

  “No way,” Mary Anne replied. “That’s even worse than gym class. It’s a competition, and I’m terrible at sports.”

  “Yeah, but the festival is just for fun,” Kristy said. “I mean, there are prizes, but I think the idea is just to participate and have a good time.”

  Claudia looked up from her pad. “I might enter an event, if it’s not too embarrassing.”

  “Well, I’m definitely going to enter one of the track events,” Kristy said. “I’m not sure which yet.”

  “I’m going to do something different,” Dawn said. “Like shot put or pole vault or something.”

  Stacey nodded. “I’m going to enter one of the swimming events.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I said, thinking about the Community Center and my upcoming summer at the pool. “Maybe I’ll enter a swimming event, too.”

  Mal just kind of sat there, looking glum. Sports have never been her strong point. I could see the festival was about the last thing in the world she wanted to talk about.

  “Ooooh!” Kristy suddenly blurted out. “I forgot to tell you guys what happened after lunch today!”

  “What?” we asked.

  Kristy was practically jumping out of her seat. “After the announcement, Alan Gray and his friends were talking about the Sports Festival. Then Alan started to act jerky, as usual — and then he just, like, announced that he could beat me in a race anytime!”

  (I should explain that Alan Gray is the most immature guy in the whole school. He’s in eighth grade but acts like his brain has been on hold since second grade. He also, unfortunately, has a crush on Kristy.)

  “So what did you do?” Stacey asked.

  Kristy smiled proudly. “I took up the challenge — and you guys are going to be there!”

  “All right!” Dawn said.

  That was when the phone rang for the first time.

  “Hello, Baby-sitters Club,” Claudia said.

  The “club” part of the meeting had officially ended, and the “baby-sitter” part had begun.

  Isn’t it funny how when you start thinking about something completely new, all of a sudden it comes up everywhere?

  Take swimming, for instance. I’d never really thought much about it before. I mean, I knew how to swim, more or less. Daddy and Mama had taught me the breast stroke and the dog paddle at the Jersey shore when I was about eight. But that was it.

  Then I had my brainstorm about buying a pool, and suddenly swimming started to take over my life. My family was joining the Community Center, I was thinking of taking lessons, and I was getting all psyched about swimming events in the SMS Sports Festival.

  And then there was gym class.

  It was Thursday, and the hot weather hadn’t let up a bit. Mal and I were sitting on the gymnasium bleachers, chatting. Mal’s sort of like Mary Anne, not into gym at all. It’s not that she’s a bad athlete. She just feels very self-conscious. I think she’s most comfortable when she’s at a desk with a pad and pencils.

  Anyway, there we were, when Ms. Walden bounced out of her office with her clipboard and called out, “Okay, who’s not here?”

  “I’m not!” Kristin Condos answered. That was about the hundredth time someone had made that joke this year, but we laughed anyway.

  Ms. Walden chuckled and took attendance. Then she looked up and said, “Well, I have a surprise for you girls. Today is your last regular gym class.”

  We all shrieked so loudly, the sound echoed off the ceiling.

  “I hope everyone has a bathing suit that fits,” Ms. Walden went on, “because starting next week, the community pool complex will be open during school days, and I’ll be taking you there for swim lessons during gym period.”

  The cheers and groans that followed were about even. As for me, I was thrilled. Free lessons? Great! Maybe by the time the summer started, I’d be able to sign up for intermediate classes on my family membership.

  Mal didn’t feel the same way. I found that out later, as we were walking back to the gym after forty-five minutes of calisthenics and field hockey. We were both out of breath and dripping with glow. Mal wiped her forehead and said, “Well, there’s one good thing about going to the pool for gym class.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Mal looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the community pool complex, then thought for a moment. “It’s about a five-minute walk there and a five-minute walk back,” she said. “So that’s ten minutes less gym!”

  I laughed. “Mal, you’re so negative! This’ll be great. We’ll get out of school for a whole period, and we’ll learn how to do something fun.”

  “I already know how to swim pretty well,” Mal said.

  “Maybe they’ll have more advanced lessons,” I suggested. “Or maybe you’ll be able to get some coaching for the Sports Festival.” Then I remembered how unexcited Mal had been about the Sports Festival at our BSC meeting. “I mean, if you decide to be in it …”

  “Everybody else is going to be in it, right?” Mal said. “In the BSC, I mean.”

  “Except Mary Anne,” I reminded her.

  “You’re going to be in it.”

  “Yeah …”

  “Well,” Mal said with a shrug, “then I will, too.”

  “Great,” I said. I’d never seen Mal so touchy, but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t blame her. The weather was enough to put anyone in a bad mood.

 
* * *

  It cooled off a little over the weekend, and by Tuesday the sky was clear, and the air was breezy and dry. Tuesday was the day of our first gym class at the community pool complex.

  I guess they call it a “complex” because it has three pools — an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a wading pool, and a diving pool (all outdoors). Ms. Walden told us we were going to use the big pool, and I couldn’t wait.

  “I am soooo excited,” I exclaimed to Mal as we walked toward the girls’ locker room with our class, clutching our swimsuits.

  Mal was frowning. And not listening to me. “What’s that?” she asked.

  “What’s what?”

  “That noise! Are the boys here?”

  I looked where she was looking. Sure enough, a door on the other side of a long snack bar said BOYS’ SHOWERS. The unmistakable yelling of boys came from inside. “I guess we’re sharing the pool with their gym class,” I said.

  “Oh, no! ” Mal cried, as if she had to kiss Alan Gray or something. “No one told us that!”

  “I know. But what’s the big deal?”

  “What’s the big deal? I only brought the ugliest, babiest bathing suit in the world!”

  She held it out, and I have to admit she wasn’t lying. It was an out-of-style, faded, one-piece suit with a ruffled skirt. “Oooops …” I said, trying not to smile.

  “It’s not funny,” Mal said. “I’m going to look ridiculous. This is so unfair!”

  I tried to cheer Mal up, but she sulked while we changed into our suits. Finally I agreed to stand between her and the boys, to block her from view. That made her feel a little better.

  So we walked out to the pool, in our suits, Mallory using me as a shield. Her shoulders were hunched, her knees were bent, and she was looking over my shoulder at the boys. “This is so embarrassing!” she said.

  The boys were all on one side of the pool, and the girls stuck together on the other side. We looked like enemies gathering for war council. The boys were pretending not to notice us, but I could see one or two curious faces staring at Mal and me.

 

‹ Prev