Stacey And The Mystery At The Mall Part 1

Stacey And The Mystery At The Mall.

Ann M. Martin.

Chapter 1.

"Terrific work, Stacey," said Mr. Schubert, handing back my final report. "According to your summaries, you've earned so much in the stock market that you could retire in - oh, about two years."

I giggled. "Right," I said. "I'll move to Miami at the ripe old age of fifteen." I looked at the front page of my report, which had a big, red A + at the top of it. It wasn't my first A or anything (I'm a pretty decent student), but I felt especially proud of it. I've always been good at math, but this cla.s.s was something new. Math for Real Life, it was called. It was part of a program at school called Short Takes, in which all the students in every grade take the same special cla.s.s. This is how it works: you study a subject intensively for a short period of time, and you learn awesome stuff that isn't usually taught in school. For instance, one really cool Short Takes cla.s.s was Modern Living, in which pairs of students had to "adopt" an egg and pretend it was their baby. We've also had Career Cla.s.s, and special health and civics cla.s.ses.

Math for Real Life was my favorite Short Takes cla.s.s yet. In it, we had learned how to balance a checkbook, make a grocery budget, and figure out mortgage payments. We also learned how to play the stock market, which was the best part. Mr. Schubert told us that we each had (an imaginary) five thousand dollars to invest, and then he showed us how to read the financial pages and pick out stocks to buy. The report I had just gotten back showed the results of my investing, which were pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.

I'm Stacey McGill, and the school I go to is Stoneybrook Middle School, which is in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. I'm thirteen and in the eighth grade, which is why I cracked up when Mr. Schubert said I could retire in two years. I'm nowhere near ready for retirement. I have a long, exciting life in front of me, and there are lots of things I want to do before I start spending my days in a rocking chair. I don't know what I want to be "when I grow up," as we used to say in first grade, but lately I've been thinking about going to business school and becoming a trader on the stock exchange!

Mr. Schubert makes that sound pretty exciting.

Another thing I think I'd be good at is running a small company - or even a big one. I'd love to own a chain of stores, for example. My math skills would come in handy, and so would my shopping skills. I'm an excellent shopper. This is partly because I grew up in New York City, which is like shopper's heaven. If you want or need anything, you can find it in New York, usually at half price. I know how to track down all the bargains, whether I'm in New York or Stoneybrook. I love fas.h.i.+on, for example; I really enjoy dressing in trendy, sophisticated outfits. But I don't just buy the first thing I see. I make a game of it: shopping around, checking prices, figuring out how to get the most for my money. Like, when I see a pair of jeans I want, I note the cost and move on. I have this little place in my brain where I remember the prices of the things I've seen, so it's easy for me to figure out where to get the best value.

On the other hand, money and math and clothes aren't the only things I care about. I love to go to museums, and dance performances and Broadway shows, and yes, even the opera. (Well, not all operas.) I guess I'm a "culture vulture" - another result of growing up in Manhattan. My parents were always dragging me to one event or another, and eventually I learned to appreciate and love the arts.

That may be part of the reason my best friend, Claudia Kis.h.i.+, and I get along so well. I'm a patron of the arts (at least, that's what my dad calls it), and Claudia's an artist. She doesn't just draw or paint; she also sculpts, makes collages, and creates all kinds of "wearable art." Give her some raw materials - a few beads, some clay, a tube or two of paint - and she'll come up with a masterpiece.

Claudia also shares my love of fas.h.i.+on. She believes clothes should do more than cover our bodies and keep us warm. Instead, she sees dressing as one more creative outlet, and it shows. She always looks fabulous, and she never looks just like everyone else. She'll pair a long white s.h.i.+rt with a colorful vest, accessorize with handmade jewelry, pull her hair up into an outrageous ponytail, and look like a million dollars.

Claud's gorgeous to begin with, anyway. She's j.a.panese-American and very exotic-looking, with her long black hair and almond-shaped eyes. On the other hand, I'm your basic blue-eyed blonde. The other differences between me and Claud? For starters, she thinks being in math cla.s.s is like being in a torture chamber. School is not Claudia's favorite thing, to say the least. (Her older sister Janine is a certified genius. Honest! Teachers are probably always wis.h.i.+ng they had higher grades than A+ to give to Janine.) For another thing, Claudia is the Junk Food Queen of Stoneybrook. Give her a Ring-Ding, and she's happy. Add a couple of Three Musketeers bars, and she's in heaven. Me? I don't eat the stuff. Not because I don't like it - I do. But I have diabetes, and I have to be very, very careful about every single thing I eat. Sweets are out. See, diabetes is this disease in which your body doesn't deal well with sugar. This has to do with an organ called the pancreas, but I don't really want to get into that right now. Basically, I'm all right as long as I follow my diet carefully and take shots of insulin every day. I give the shots to myself, which sounds much worse than it is. I'm used to it. I'd better be, since I'll probably have to do it for the rest of my life.

"People! People, please settle down." Mr. Schubert had finished pa.s.sing out our papers, and he was standing in front of the room trying to get our attention. Everybody was comparing papers and talking excitedly about how much money they'd made - or lost - in the stock market. This boy, Pete Hayes, was joking about how there should be one last topic in Math for Real Life, called "How to File for Bankruptcy."

Finally, we quieted down and looked at Mr. Schubert. "This has been a great cla.s.s," he said. "I've enjoyed teaching you all, and I'll miss you when you go on to your next Short Takes cla.s.s next week."

"What's it going to be?" somebody yelled out. "Zoo-keeping? How to Be a down?"

They never tell us about the next Short Takes course until the week before, which means it's always a surprise. Some other kids jumped in with funny ideas.

"Advanced Skateboard Riding?" Pete Hayes called out.

"How To Drive Your Little Sister Crazy?" asked somebody else.

Soon we were all cracking up. Even Mr. Schubert was laughing. Then he held up his hands for silence. "Give me a chance, and I'll tell you," he said. As soon as we all shut up, he announced, "The next Short Takes is called Project Work."

Everybody groaned.

"What, like doing ch.o.r.es around the house?" asked Erica Blumberg, who was sitting in front of me. "I don't need a cla.s.s to teach me how to take out the garbage or rake the lawn."

I had to admit Project Work didn't sound like a whole lot of fun. But I listened to Mr. Schubert anyway. "For Project Work," he went on, "every student at SMS will go out into the community after school three days a week and actually work in a business of his or her choice."

"Cool," said Erica. "So we can, like, make a bunch of money and get school credit at the same time?"

"Well, not exactly," said Mr. Schubert. "You won't be getting paid. The idea is for you to pick a place that interests or excites you, and find out what it's really like to work there. Ifs called hands-on experience. We have a wide variety of businesses for you to choose from, some in Stoneybrook, some in Stamford, and some at the Was.h.i.+ngton Mall."

I, for one, was getting interested. Project Work sounded as if it could be fun. As I said, I've often thought I'd like to run a store - maybe this was my chance to see what it was like.

"The good news," Mr. Schubert said next, "is that there won't be any homework a.s.signments or tests." A cheer went up. "You'll have to keep a journal, and Mr. Withum, your next teacher, will tell you more about that."

I started to think about what kind of work I might be able to do. I knew my mom would have some good ideas. She's a buyer at Bellair's, a department store in downtown Stoneybrook. She took the job after my parents got divorced. That was a hard time for me, the divorce. Here's how it happened. I had grown up in New York, but then my dad was transferred to Stoneybrook, so we moved here. I made friends right away and joined this great dub called the BSC - the Baby-sitters dub. But then my dad was transferred back to New York, and I had to say good-bye to all my new friends. b.u.mmer. But an even bigger b.u.mmer was coming my way.

Soon after we moved back to the city, my parents started to fight a lot. Now, a lot of parents fight, and it doesn't necessarily mean they're going to get a divorce. But in my parents' case, it did. When they decided to split up, my mom told me she planned to move back to Stoneybrook. My dad was staying in New York. And guess what? I had to choose which one of them I wanted to live with. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Obviously, I chose to come back to Stoneybrook with my mom, and I have never regretted the decision. I visit my dad as often as possible, and I still feel dose to him. But Stoneybrook is my home now. It may not have Bloomingdale's or Carnegie Hall, but I love it anyway.

The bell rang, and Mr. Schubert smiled at us. "Enjoy Project Work!" he said. "I know you'll have a great time."

Since Short Takes is my last cla.s.s of the day, I headed for my locker as soon as we were dismissed. When I reached it, I found a note stuck into the vents. I could tell at a glance that it was from Claudia. She always decorates her notes with swirls and moons and stars. "Projekt Work sounds grate!" it said. (Claudia has this little problem with spelling. She says it stifles her creativity to have to spell things the same way every time.) "Meet us by the fense," the note went on. "C U soon!"

I knew that "us" meant Claud and the other members of the BSC, and "by the fense" meant that we were meeting near the fence in the parking lot, which is where we often gather before and after school. Sure enough, when I arrived at the "fense," I found the other members of the BSC already there. Kristy Thomas, carrying a baseball bat, was talking to Logan Bruno, one of our a.s.sociate members (and the only boy in the club). Logan was holding his girlfriend Mary Anne Spier's hand. Mary Anne was facing away from him, though, talking to Claudia. And Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike were chattering away off to the side.

What were they all talking about? Project Work, of course. Everybody was excited about it, and everybody had ideas and dreams about what they might like to do. Jessi and Mal were talking about working at a riding stable (they both love horses), and Kristy and Logan were trying to figure out whether they could play ball at Shea Stadium (they're both big Mets fans). Mary Anne was saying something about running a country inn. And Claudia was talking about working as a guide at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

"Whoa, hold it!" I said. "These are supposed to be local jobs, aren't they?"

"Sure," said Claudia, giggling. "But we can dream, can't we? We're just fooling around."

"Well, in that case," I said, "I think I'd like to be president of the Gap."

Claudia grinned. "Does that mean your best friend will get a discount?" she asked.

Just then, Kristy saw her bus pull up. The rest of us walk home, but Kristy lives across town and takes the bus. "Gotta ran!" she said. "I'll see you later. Let's talk about Project Work during the meeting."

We would all be together again in just a few hours, for our Friday BSC meeting: the baseball player, the museum guide, the innkeeper, the stable workers, and the president of a huge clothing chain. What a crew!

Chapter 2.

"I don't know," mused Claudia. "Maybe it would be more fun to work at the Museum of Modern Art." She and I were in her room, waiting for the other members of the BSC to arrive for our meeting. We were still fantasizing about dream jobs.

"And maybe, instead of the Gap, I'd like to run a really fancy clothing business, like Chanel or something," I said. I pictured a fas.h.i.+on show in Paris, with gorgeous models wearing outrageous clothes. "You could design the clothes, Claud, and I'll run the business." I lay back on Claudia's bed and hugged a pillow.

"Sounds awesome," said Claudia. Just then, Kristy burst into the room. "I've been thinking," she said, without even saying hi. That's Kristy for you. "Project Work probably means we're going to have to make some temporary changes in the BSC," she went on. She plopped down in the director's chair at Claud's desk, grabbed a pencil, and began to make a list on the back of an envelope. Claudia and I exchanged an amused glance. Kristy is a dynamo. You'll never catch her lying around fantasizing. She's a woman of action.

Kristy is our club's president. In fact, the original idea for the BSC was hers. She guessed that parents would love to be able to call one number and reach several responsible sitters - and she was one hundred percent right. Our club now meets in Claudia's room three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from five-thirty to six. Parents can call during those times and set up sitting jobs. And wow, do they call. We always have plenty of work.

Our clients keep coming back because, as Kristy says, "we offer a quality service." Good baby-sitting, that is. We keep on top of our charges' special needs, for one thing. The dub notebook helps us with that. That's where we write up every job we go on, so everybody knows what's happening with the kids we sit for. Also, instead of just plopping the kids in front of the TV, the way some sitters do, we have fun with them. For example, sometimes we bring along our Kid-Kits, which are boxes packed with hand-me-down toys and games, plus new stickers and crayons and markers. The kids we sit for love to see us arrive with Kid-Kits in hand. We're also very responsible about scheduling jobs carefully, with the help of our record book, in which we keep track of every member's schedule. We never "stand up" a client.

Kid-Kits, the club notebook, and the record book were all Kristy's ideas. Like I said, she's a dynamo. Kristy is short, with brown hair and brown eyes. She doesn't waste any time on fas.h.i.+on or makeup: her daily "uniform" is a turtleneck s.h.i.+rt, jeans, and running shoes. , The running shoes are important, because Kristy's life keeps her on the run. For example, Kristy coaches Kristy's Krushers, a softball team for little kids.

She also has a very busy home life these days. Kristy grew up with two older brothers, Charlie and Sam, and one younger one named David Michael. Kristy's dad skipped out on the family when David Michael was just a baby, and for a long time things weren't easy for the Thomas family. But then Mrs. Thomas met - and eventually married - a really nice guy named Watson Brewer. Watson happens to be rich and, soon after the wedding, the Thomases moved across town to live in his mansion. Along with their new home came more additions to the family. Watson has two kids from his first marriage, Karen and Andrew, who live at the mansion part time. Plus, Kristy now has a brand-new little sister: Emily Mich.e.l.le, a Vietnamese girl whom Kristy's mom and Watson adopted. And Kristy's grandmother lives with the family as well. Add in the pets (Shannon, a Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, Boo-Boo the cat, and a couple of goldfish), and you've got one hectic household.

Kristy's best friend is Mary Anne Spier, the secretary of the BSC. Her job is to keep the record book up-to-date. Now, while Kristy goes through life like a hurricane, Mary Anne is more like the eye of the storm. She's quiet and shy and very, very sensitive. Mary Anne is the best listener I know. If you tell her about something that's upset you, her big brown eyes will fill with tears and she'll say just the right thing. And if you're happy, n.o.body could be happier for you than Mary Anne. In a word, Mary Anne is loveable. Maybe that's why she's the only member of the dub who has a steady boyfriend. He's Logan Bruno, the a.s.sociate member, and he's seriously cute and also the sweetest guy at SMS.

That day, a bright-eyed Mary Anne entered Claud's room soon after Kristy started scribbling out her list. "Hey, you guys, guess what?" she said, as she settled into her regular spot on Claud's bed. "I talked to Dawn last night. She's doing great, and she says she's really looking forward to coming home in a few months."

Dawn Schafer is Mary Anne's stepsister, and another member of the BSC. She's in California right now, living temporarily with her father and her younger brother, Jeff. Here's how she and Mary Anne became stepsisters: First of all, Mary Anne's mom died when Mary Anne was a baby. Mr. Spier brought Mary Anne up all by himself, and although he was often a little too strict, he basically did a great job. (How else would she be so loveable?) While Mary Anne was growing up in Stoneybrook, Dawn was growing up in California, with her mom, her dad, and Jeff. Then, Dawn's parents got divorced, and Mrs. Schafer brought her kids back to Stoneybrook, which is where she had grown up. Dawn and Mary Anne became friends, and soon discovered that their parents had dated when they were in high school. They schemed to get them back together, and the rest is history. Now Mary Anne's dad and Dawn's mom (whom Mary Anne calls Sharon) are husband and wife, and Dawn and Mary Anne are stepsisters, and they live in an old, old farmhouse. Pretty cool, right?

Here's the downside: Before Sharon and Mr. Spier got married, Dawn's brother Jeff realized that he was never going to adjust to life in Connecticut. He missed California - and his dad - so much that everyone decided it would be best for him to go back and live there. Dawn felt at home in Stoneybrook, but not too long ago she started to miss Jeff and her dad a lot. That7s why she's out there now. She went to live with them for awhile, and now we miss her like crazy. Mary Anne, especially. I could tell she was really happy to hear that Dawn was looking forward to coming back.

Dawn, who has long, long blonde hair and cornflower-blue eyes, is a true individual. She goes her own way, without worrying too, much about what the rest of the world is doing. Her job in the BSC (when she's here) is alternate officer, which means she can take over for any other officer who can't attend a meeting. We don't need an alternate officer every day, but there are times when the job is essential.

That's why Shannon Kilbourne, who is usually an a.s.sociate member like Logan, has temporarily replaced Dawn. Shannon, who has curly blonde hair and a ski-jump nose, lives in Kristy's new neighborhood and goes to a private school. As one of our a.s.sociate members, she used to be on call to take jobs when we had more than we could handle. Lately, though, she's been acting as a full-fledged member, attending meetings regularly and taking on lots of sitting jobs. (Logan attends meetings only when he wants to.) Shannon has two little sisters, Tiffany and Maria. She's a great student, and she's always involved in after-school activities.

That day she arrived soon after Mary Anne did. "Whew!" she said, eyeing Claud's digital clock. "I just made it, didn't I? I was at a drama club meeting, and my friend's mom drove me here afterward. She isn't familiar with this neighborhood, and she kept making wrong turns even though I thought I was giving her good directions!"

Kristy glanced at the clock. It was 5:28, and I knew she was dying to start the meeting. But I also knew she would wait until exactly 5:30, because that's just the way Kristy is. She's a strong believer in punctuality, to put it mildly.

Claudia groped around under her bed and came up with a bag of Hershey's Miniatures. "I found these last night," she said. "I hid them so well that at first I couldn't remember where they were." Although Gaud loves junk food, her parents don't like her to eat it. So she hides it all over her room, along with the Nancy Drew books her parents don't approve of (they think she should be reading "more challenging material"), and pulls it out when we have meetings. She also keeps pretzels and whole-wheat crackers on hand for me. As vice-president of the club, that's one of her only real duties, and it's an unoffical one. Mostly she's the vice-president because the dub meets in her room - and we meet in her room because she's the only BSC member with her own phone and a private line. Which reminds me of another one of her duties. Claud handles any BSC calls that come in when we're not meeting.

Kristy accepted the bag of candy and started picking out the Special Dark bars. While she poked around, Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike rushed into the room.

Jessi and Mal are best friends, and the only junior officers of the club. They're called junior officers because unlike the rest of us, who are thirteen and in the eighth grade, Mal and Jessi are eleven and in sixth. They can't baby-sit at night, except for their own families. Jessi has a younger sister named Becca and a little brother called Squirt. "(His real name is John Philip, Jr.). Mal comes from a huge family: she has seven younger brothers and sisters! Three of them are identical triplets: Adam, Byron, and Jordan. Then there are Vanessa, Nicky, Margo, and Claire. Ifs no wonder Mal's such a good sitter. Jessi is African-American, with coal-dark eyes, cocoa-colored skin, and the long, limber body of a dancer. She studies ballet very seriously, and may be a ballerina someday. Mal has red hair, gla.s.ses, and braces. (They're the dear kind, and don't really show, but she hates them anyway.) Mal is a talented writer and artist, and hopes someday to write and ill.u.s.trate children's books.

Jessi and Mal had arrived just in time. Right after they got settled on the floor, the dock clicked to 5:30, "Order!" said Kristy. The meeting had begun. "Any new business?" she asked first.

I kept quiet. It was a Friday, which meant I didn't have to collect dues. As treasurer of the dub, I do that on Mondays. We all pitch in to help pay Claud's phone bill and Kristy's transportation costs. (Her brother Charlie drives her to meetings.) n.o.body loves paying dues, but I have to admit that I like to collect them and keep track of all our money. Maybe someday I'll invest some of it, and surprise everybody by making a killing on the stock market! Or maybe not. Kristy would have a fit.

When n.o.body answered Kristy, she plowed right ahead. "Well, / have some new business," she said. "Project Work is going to change the way we run the dub for awhile, from what I can tell. Ifs a special cla.s.s at SMS," she explained, turning to Shannon.

Just then, the phone rang and Kristy answered it. It was Mrs. Perkins, one of our regular clients, looking for a sitter for Sat.u.r.day. The BSC swung into business mode. Mary Anne checked the record book and told us who was free: Jessi, Mary Anne, and Gaud. Claud said she had an art project planned, and Mary Anne said she was going shopping with Sharon, so Jessi got the job. Kristy called Mrs. Perkins back, and in minutes everything was all set up.

"Now, where was I?" said Kristy, after she'd hung up. She glanced at the notes she'd made earlier. "Okay, here's the thing. We're all going to be working three days a week after school. The way I see it, we're going to have to cut down our BSC meetings to one a week. Plus, we're going to have to be extra careful about how many sitting jobs we take on."

We glanced at Shannon. She had just gotten used to making time in her schedule for BSC meetings, and now Kristy was telling her that we wouldn't have time. Shannon smiled. "It's fine with me," she said. "Maybe I can cover the phone on the days we aren't meeting. But tell me more about Project Work."

We spent the rest of the meeting - between phone calls - talking about Project Work.

Kristy thought it would be a good idea if we all worked at the Was.h.i.+ngton Mall, just so our schedules would be coordinated, and we started talking about which stores and businesses we'd like to work at. Even if only half of them had agreed to accept Project Work kids, there would still be dozens to choose among. The mall is absolutely huge. We weren't fantasizing anymore, but it was almost more exciting to think about what we really might be doing. I could hardly wait to get started.

Chapter 3.

Mr. Withum, my Project Work teacher, was a nice surprise. I'd never had him for a teacher before (he was new at SMS) so I didn't know what to expect. From hearing his name, I had imagined a kind of shriveled, gray-haired man. But he turned out to be "pleasantly plump," as my mother would say, with a big, round pink face and a cheerful smile.

After introducing himself, he explained in more detail how the cla.s.s would work. All of the Project Work teachers had divided up the available jobs. We would be able to pick from the list he had made, which mostly included jobs in Stoneybrook and at the mall. I listened closely when he explained how, for the six weeks of Project Work, the kids who were working at the mall would be bussed to their jobs on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday afternoons. I was just hoping I could find a job I liked at the mall, so I could be on the same schedule as my friends. "During school we'll meet three times a week," Mr. Withum went on, "to check in with each other and talk about how the jobs are going." Then he handed a stack of job lists to the first person in each row and told them to pa.s.s the lists back. Austin Bentley raised his hand. "What if we get fired from our jobs?" he asked with a grin.

"Do we fail the cla.s.s?" I like Austin, but he can be a wise guy.

Mr. Withum smiled. "This cla.s.s is unfailable," he said. "If you got fired, which I doubt would happen, I'd ask you to write up the experience in your job diary. And then I'd ask you to find another job. It would all be part of learning what it's like to work in the real world."

Kara Mauricio, who was sitting in front of me, handed back the job lists. I took one and pa.s.sed the rest of them on. Then I scanned the list, hoping I'd see the perfect job right away. There are some great clothing stores at the mall, and I'd been fantasizing about working at one of them. This one called Zingy's has very cool stuff, but I didn't see it on the list. I was disappointed. The cla.s.s was buzzing as everybody looked over the list. "All right!" said this guy named Gordon Brown. "Donut Express. That's for me!" Donut Express is a place just outside of Stoneybrook that sells - you guessed it - doughnuts. Ifs a great place to pig out, even though whenever I go there I have to limit myself to the bagels. "I love those chocolate cream-filled ones," Gordon went on. He looked hungry.

"This job at Bellair's looks cool," said Kara. "Women's accessories. I could get into that." "Dibs on the job at the bike shop!" yelled Austin.

"Okay, hold on just a minute," said Mr. Withum. "Let's do this in an orderly fas.h.i.+on. I'll go down the list, and if I call out a job you want, raise your hand." He started reading out the names of businesses.

Meanwhile, I looked the list over more carefully. Zingy's was out, but there were several other choices at the mall. Then I saw it. "Perfect," I said. Near the bottom of the list was Toy Town, which is a terrific toy store. I've browsed through it plenty of times, looking for little items for my Kid-Kit. Toy Town carries all the regular toys, but it also has some really neat stuff that you can't get everywhere else, such as kits for bug-collecting, or a make-your-own kite package. I guess they're called "educational" toys, but they're not boring.

They're cool. Some of the kids I sit for have found great things at Toy Town. Charlotte Johanssen, my favorite sitting charge, bought a great stuffed dinosaur there.

Just as I was trying to remember what Charlotte had named the dinosaur (I think it was Jasper) I heard Mr. Withum call out, "Anybody for Toy Town?"

My hand shot up. I looked around nervously to see if anybody else wanted to work there, but my hand was the only one raised. Mr. Withum took down my name, and that was it. I had a job!

Once all the jobs were a.s.signed, Mr. Withum told us we'd be visiting our new employers on Wednesday, for orientation, and that our jobs would actually start on the following Monday.

As soon as cla.s.s was dismissed, I ran to my locker. As I'd hoped, Claud was waiting there for me. "Did you get a job?" she asked eagerly. I nodded.

"At Toy Town," I said.

"All right!"

"What about you?"

"I got the exact one I wanted," she replied. "At the Artist's Exchange."

I squealed and gave her a hug. The Artist's Exchange is this great art supply store where Claudia sometimes buys oil paints and special markers and stuff. "You'll be perfect there," I said. "You know about everything they carry."

"Well, not everything," she said. "But I'll learn. This is going to be so cool."

As soon as I finished at my locker, we headed outside. I couldn't wait to find out what jobs everybody else had landed. The other members of the BSC were waiting by the fence, and as Claud and I crossed the parking lot, Kristy caught sight of us. "Did you get jobs at the mall?" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. I gave her the thumbs up sign, and she grinned at me.

When we joined our friends, everybody was talking at once, and at first it was hard to sort out who had gotten which job. "Hey!" yelled Kristy. "Order!"

"Kristy, this isn't a meeting," I said. "You can't call us to order."

"Oh, right." Kristy looked a little embarra.s.sed. "I just wanted to hear about everybody's jobs," she explained.

"Me, too," I said. "How about if we take turns telling each other?"