"Sat.u.r.day," Janine repeated. Then she cracked up, and so did I. "You should see yourself," Janine said. "You're wearing one red sock and one pink one. A big piece of hair is sticking out of your braid. You have black rings around your eyes, and your pajama top is still on."

"Hmm," I said. "All dressed up and nowhere to go." I threw myself on the bed, laughing. "I don't believe I just did that," I said. "All that running around for nothing." Then I remembered something. I had a sitting job over at the Pikes'. And I was supposed to be there at nine-thirty. So at least I hadn't gotten up early for no reason.

Janine was still standing in the doorway. "Um, Claudia," she said, sounding a little nervous. "I was wondering. Do you think I could borrow your red sweater?"

"My red sweater?" I asked, surprised. First of all, Janine never borrows my clothes. Secondly, if she did, I'd expect her to borrow clothes that were black, or brown, or navy blue. Janine never wears wild colors like red. "Well, sure," I said. "I guess so. Except I can't seem to find it."

"It's in my room," admitted Janine. "I - I saw it on top of the clean laundry pile, and all of a sudden I thought maybe I'd like to try it on. So I did." She sounded kind of defensive, as if she thought I was going to be mad at her.

"Well, I'm glad to know where it is," I said. "I thought it was lost. Sure, you can borrow it. But Janine, why - ?" I was about to ask her why she was acting so weird; why was she wearing makeup, and missing dinner, and stealing my clothes. But Janine had disappeared. I heard her call "thanks" as she headed back to her room, and I realized I'd lost my chance to find out what was going on with her. I shrugged. I couldn't wonder about it if I was going to make it to the Pikes' on time.

"Claudia's here! Claudia's here!" I heard footsteps running down the hall, away from the front door. I was standing outside on the porch. I'd rung the bell, and Claire, Mallory's five-year-old sister, had come to see who was at the door. She'd peeked through the window at me, and waved. I'd waved back. I could tell she was excited to see me. So excited, in fact, that she forgot to let me in.

I stood on the stoop for just a second, then let myself in. I'm no stranger to the Pikes, so I knew it would be okay. "Mal?" .I called.

"In here," she yelled. Her voice was coming from the kitchen. "We're just finishing up the breakfast dishes."

As I approached the kitchen, I heard squealing and -giggling and clattering sounds. The Pike family never does anything quietly. They can't, since there are so many of them. I poked my head into the kitchen. The room was full of noise and activity - and kids. "Hi!" I said.

"Hi," said Mallory. "Boy, am I glad you're here. My parents had to leave early, so they've already been gone for half an hour. I was okay for a little while, but how I'm definitely ready for some help!" "You should have called me," I said. "I would have come earlier."

"I know," said Mal. "But it's Sat.u.r.day. I figured you'd be sleeping in."

I giggled. "Ordinarily I would have been," I said. "But you won't believe what happened this morn-"

I was interrupted by a loud crash. I turned . to Nicky, Mal's youngest brother. He's eight. He looked down at the floor, where a pile of forks and spoons lay scattered; then glanced up guiltily. "I didn't mean - " he began.

"It's okay," I said. "Let's pick them up and put them back in the sink. I'll wash them again, and then you can dry them and put them away. Deal?"

"Deal," he said. "And this time I won't try to pick all of them up at one time."

I rolled up my sleeves and started to wash the silverware.

"So, what happened this morning?" asked Mallory, who was putting away the pots and pans.

"Well, I woke up in a total panic," I said, "because I thought - "

There was another crash. This time Byron looked up guiltily. "It was Jordan's fault," he said quickly.

"Was not," said Jordan. "Adam did it."

"No way!" said Adam. "It was Byron."

Adam, Byron, and Jordan are triplets. They're ten years old, and they are almost always getting into some kind of trouble. This time, though, Mal let them off the hook. "It doesn't matter who dropped the frying pan," she said. "Just give it to me, and I'll put it away." Byron handed it to her, looking sheepish. I realized I'd probably never get around to telling Mal about what had happened that morning, and decided to concentrate on finishing the cleanup, instead. After I had washed the last fork, I looked around to see what else needed to be done.

Vanessa, who's nine, was wiping the kitchen counters with a sponge. She looked dreamy, as if she were in another world. Vanessa wants to be a poet, and she's often composing sonnets in her mind. That probably explained why she'd already wiped the same counter about ten times.

Claire was helping Margo, who's seven, organize the cereal boxes as they put them back in the cabinet. "I think the Chex should go next to the Shredded Wheat, since they're both squares," she said.

"Uh-uh," said Margo. "The Chex go next to the Cheerios, since they both start with C."

"Just get them-in there however you can make them fit," said Mallory. "We could have been done by now if you all didn't dawdle so much. It's already almost time for lunch."

"Lunch?" said Byron. "What are we having for lunch, anyway? Derek likes hot dogs, I think."

"Derek?" repeated Mallory.

"Yeah. He's coming for lunch," said Adam. "Didn't we tell you?"

"No, you didn't," said Mallory. "But that's okay. I'll be glad to see him."

"Me too," I said.

"Me three!" said Nicky.

"We all want to see Derek," said Jordan. "And maybe we can have Hershey's Kisses for dessert, right, guys?" He nudged Adam and Byron. They snickered.

"Uh-oh," said Mallory under her breath. We exchanged glances. Obviously the kids at school had found out about Derek's kissing scene. Mal and I had already heard about it from Kristy. I smelled trouble, and I could tell Mallory did, too.

"There's the doorbell!" said Jordan. "I bet that's kissy-face Derek right now." He ran to answer the door.

As soon as he'd left the kitchen, Byron and Adam grabbed Vanessa. "Are you ready?" Byron asked her. ."Your boyfriend is here!"

Vanessa pulled away. "I'm not so sure about this," she said.

"Sure about what?" asked Mal. "Hey, you guys, what kind of plot are you hatching?"

Byron tried to look innocent as Jordan and Derek came into the kitchen. As soon as the other kids saw Derek, they were all over him.

"It's like he's magnetic!" I whispered to Mal. She nodded. After we'd said h.e.l.lo to Derek, we stood there, waiting to see what was going to happen next.

The triplets pushed Vanessa so that she was standing next to Derek. "Go ahead!" hissed Jordan.

After a moment of hesitation, Vanessa closed her eyes, pursed her lips and tilted her chin up. Derek gave her a funny look. Then Adam b.u.mped Derek from behind, pushing him into Vanessa. "Hey!" said Derek. "What are you guys doing?"

Nicky and the triplets just giggled. I was beginning to catch on, and so was Mal, I think. But Derek caught on even quicker. "Oh, I get it," he said. "You're trying to trick me into kissing Vanessa." He shook his head. "You guys are so immature. Kissing a girl is no big deal. I've done it tons of times." Derek spoke with plenty of confidence, but he didn't fool me. I could tell he was embarra.s.sed, and boasting just to cover up.

Mallory looked as if she were in shock. "You have?" she asked Derek.

"Sure," he said nonchalantly. "I'm an expert. I'll show you; Ready, Vanessa?" He grinned devilishly and started toward her. She shrieked and ran out of the room.

The triplets seemed awestruck, and so did Nicky. Claire and Margo gazed admiringly at Derek. Mal's mouth was still hanging open in surprise. But I folded my arms and looked straight into Derek's eyes, and when he looked back at me the truth was obvious. Derek had never kissed a girl in his life.

I winked at him, to let him know his secret was safe with me. Then I said, "Who's ready for lunch?"

The kids began talking and fooling around again. They forgot about kissing, at least for the moment. Derek gave me a grateful look, and I knew I had just made a friend for life.

Chapter 6.

I was all set. Six boxes of beads were arranged on my desk, along with plenty of string and a couple of needles. I was planning to work on some necklaces and bracelets, and I was hoping to finish at least a few of them before the BSC meeting, which would start in about an hour.

I love to string beads. It's relaxing, because once you decide on your design, there's not much to think about. You stick the beads onto the needle and push them down the string, and that's it. I make beaded jewelry for myself, for friends, and even for some of the kids we sit for. This time, though, I was making it as a favor to my mother. See, she's the head librarian at the Stoneybrook Public Library. And recently the library's budget was cut. Mom has had to be really creative about raising money for things the library needs - like books. Her latest idea was to hold a crafts fair, at which local artists and craftspeople could sell their work. The library would keep most of the money, and the artists would get some nice exposure. I thought it was a great idea, and I'd offered to donate some handmade jewelry. I was going to do beadwork, and also make some papier-mache jewelry. But as usual, I had procrastinated (that's a word my mother taught me a long time ago - she uses it often to describe what I'm doing) and now I was going to have to work like crazy to finish the pieces.

So there I was: blue beads on my left, red ones on my right, and black, white, green, and purple ones in the middle. I threaded a big needle and reached for a red bead. Just then, I heard a knock at the door. I groaned. "Who's there?" I asked. It would be just like Kristy to be early for our meeting.

"It's me, Janine. Can I come in?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm just making some jewelry."

Janine came into my room, shutting the door behind her. "Hi, Claudia," she said.

"Hi," I replied. "What's up?"

She sat down on my bed and stared down at her shoes. "Nothing, really," she said. "What's new with you?"

"Not much." I strung some blue beads, then glanced at her. She was frowning slightly, and she kept smoothing the bedspread, as if she were nervous. "Janine," I said. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing! I mean - well, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"If you want to borrow my red sweater again, you'll have to wait," I said. "It's in the wash."

"It's not that, although I would like to borrow it again sometime." Janine paused for a moment. "What I wanted to ask was - was -"

"Come on, Janine," I said. "Spit it out! It can't be that bad."

"Would you give me a lesson on how to apply makeup?" she asked, all in a rush. "And also some advice about clothes?"

I was in shock. I guess I should have seen it coming, but still, it felt so strange for my sister to come to me for something. She's never needed my help before.

Janine seemed to think I was going to say no to her. "Claudia, I hate to bother you with this, but I don't know who else to ask. None of my friends wear cosmetics or get dressed up. Besides, I've helped you with your school-work so many times. Couldn't you help me just this once?"

"Janine," I said. "Of course I'll help you. Don't be silly. But why - "

"Do me one favor," she said, interrupting.

"Don't ask me why, okay? Let's just say it's time for a change, and leave it at that." She gave me an intense look.

"Fine!" I replied. Wow. I was dying to know ' what was going on with my sister, but I could see she was not about to tell me. Anyway, I figured it certainly was time for a change. After all, Janine is sixteen, as Stacey had pointed out. "Well," I said, putting down my needle. "Let's see. Where should we start? Stand up, Janine."

She stood. I looked her over and took inventory: straight black hair, cut in an old-fashioned Dutch-Boy style. Black wire-rim gla.s.ses. Navy-blue crewneck sweater, worn over a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar. Pleated knee-length gray wool skirt. Gray knee socks. Brown loafers. In those clothes, she looked like a skinny twelve-year-old. "Oh, boy," I said, sighing. "We've got our work cut out for us."

"I don't want anything too wild," said Janine nervously.

I laughed. "Don't worry. We'll take it one step at a time." I grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the full-length mirror. "First of all, your clothes need a little pepping up. You can keep that preppie style if you want, but let's make it a little more interesting." I pulled a green-and-blue patterned sweater out of my bottom drawer, and a white oxford shirt out of the closet, then found a short black wool skirt I hardly ever wear. "Try these on," I said. "See, it's the same thing: sweater, blouse, skirt. Only a little more daring and a little more defined."

Janine stepped into the bathroom to change. She's shy that way. When she came out, she was grinning. "I like it!" she said. "I look really different, but I'm still comfortable. This is great!"

I studied her. "Not bad," I said. "But you're going to have to ditch those loafers. Brown doesn't work with that outfit. Here, try these." I tossed her a pair of short black boots, and she put them on. "Perfect!" I said. "Now, let's work on your hair and your face." I sat her down at my dressing-table and stood behind her so we were both facing the mirror.

Janine shook her head dismally. "I'm so plain," she said. "You got all the good looks in the family."

"No way!" I cried. "You're really pretty. You just need to play up your best features." I thought for a moment. "Have you ever considered getting contacts?"

"Oh, I don't think so," she said quickly. "I'm used to my gla.s.ses. I would hate to have to fuss with contact lenses."

"Okay," I said, sensing that it would be better not to push the issue. "So we'll stick with the gla.s.ses. I think the first thing we should do is get some of that hair out of your face." I picked up a can of mousse and spritzed some onto my hands.

"What are you - " Janine began, but before she could stop me, I'd slathered the mousse all over her hair. "Oh, no," she said.

"Calm down," I replied, giggling. "I promise I won't hurt you." I played around with different hairstyles: first I swept all her hair over to one side, then I slicked it all back, then I made a little ponytail high on top of her head. None of them seemed right, and Janine was beginning to look horrified. Finally, I just pushed her bangs over to one side, added a couple of colorful barrettes, and stepped back. "That's it!" I said. "It looks great."

Janine gazed into the mirror and turned her head from side to side. "It looks okay, I guess," she said. "But what was that stuff you used? Do I have to get some? Where do I buy it?"

I cracked up. Janine is so smart about some things, but in other ways she's like a child. "It's just mousse," I said. "It's in all the drugstores. You might want to get some gel, too."

Janine shook her head. "I'll never learn to use all this stuff," she said. She checked her reflection again and touched her hair. "Hey, it's stiff!"

"Use your fingers to comb it out a little," I said. "It'll soften up. Look, there's really nothing to it. I'll help you again next time, but you'll be able to do it yourself before you know it." I realized I ought to keep Janine's new beauty routine very, very simple. She wasn't used to spending time on her appearance. While Janine played with her hair, I looked through my makeup and picked out some mascara, some blush, and a pinkish lip gloss that wasn't too dramatic.

"What about eyeshadow?" asked Janine. I remembered the blue smears she'd had on the other day, and winced. "If you want it, I'll show you how," I said. "But I think maybe brown would be a better color for you." I told her to close her eyes, and I quickly made her up, telling her what I was doing every step of the way. "Okay," I said, when I was done. "Take a look."

She opened her eyes and peered into the mirror. "Is that me?" she asked. "I can't believe it."

She did look different. I was going to have to get used to the new Janine.

"Thanks a lot, Claud." She was still staring at herself. "Wow," she said, under her breath.

Then she stood up to leave. She seemed to be in a trance.

"Why don't you stick around for a few minutes ?" I said, looking at the clock. "The club is meeting soon, and you could show everyone how you look."

"Club?" said Janine. "Oh, my gosh! You mean it's almost five-thirty?" She whirled around and checked the clock. "I have to go! I have to meet - I mean I have to be at the library!"

The library? Janine had been at the library every night that week. She'd been at the library the night she missed dinner. I know Janine's grades are important to her but n.o.body could have that much homework. "Janine," I said. "Where are you really going?"

"I can't talk!" she gasped. "I'm late. Thanks again - and 'bye!" She ran out of the room and after a moment I heard the front door slam.

A few minutes later, Kristy showed up. Stacey, Dawn, and Mary Anne were right behind her. And Jessi and Mal ran up the stairs at 5:25. I was mystified by Janine's behavior, so I grabbed the five minutes before our meeting to tell my friends about her strange behavior. I even told them that I suspected that she had been the person who had been "messing up" my room - not that I had any idea why she would do that. Stacey had heard some of the story before, but this time even she was impressed by how different Janine seemed. "What do you think is going on with her?" she asked.

"I bet she got offered a part in a TV commercial," said Jessi. "That happened to this boy I used to know. He was just walking down the street, and these people came up to him, and - "

"That's pretty unlikely," interrupted Kristy. "She's probably thinking about running for student council, and she wants a new image."