"But it's not safe to diet if you don't need to. My mom said. Does your mother know you're dieting?"

"Well, she - "

"See, I'll bet she doesn't."

At that moment, someone knocked on Clau-dia's door. "Mary Anne!" Janine called. "Your father phoned on the other line. He says it's time for you to go home."

Mary Anne looked at her watch. "Six-ten!" she cried. "Oh, no, I'm late. Dad hates it when I'm late. Thanks, Janine. I have to go, you guys."

"Wait," I said. "We didn't finish making our plans."

"Let's meet tomorrow at recess," suggested Claudia.

"Really?" I said. Recently, Claudia has been spending recess watching the cute boys play basketball. She never wants to play four-square or tetherball with Mary Anne and me.

"Sure," she said. "As soon as we're done with lunch we'll meet outside by the gym door. Somebody remember to bring a pad of paper and a pen."

"I will," I volunteered.

Mary Anne stood up then and practically flew home.

"I better go, too," said Stacey.

"Me, too," I said.

Claudia walked us to the door and we went our separate ways.

The Friday lunch at StoneybrookMiddle School is always the same: sloppy joes, red Jell-O with canned fruit in it, a d.i.n.ky cup of coleslaw, milk, and a fudgesicle.

I truly hate it, except for the fudgesicle.

After Mary Anne and I had forced down as much as possible, we went outside to wait for Claudia and Stacey. We hadn't sat with them in the cafeteria because they were eating at a table full of the most sophisticated seventh-grade girls (whom we hardly knew) and some boys. How they could eat with boys was beyond me. The boys are always doing gross things like smushing up peas and ravioli in their milk cartons to see what colors they can make. Claudia seems to think those things are hilarious.

So Mary Anne and I reached the gym door first. We played a fast game of tetherball while we waited. I won. 1 usually do. I'm good at sports.

"Hi, you guys!" called Claudia about ten minutes later. She and Stacey were walking across the playground.

"Hi!" we answered.

The four of us went to a quiet corner of the school building and sat down on some empty packing crates.

"I've got the paper and pen," I said. "And something else." I pulled the list that I had made Tuesday night from my pocket and pointed to section two, which was labeled ADVERTISING. "This is what we have to do next: Let people know what we're doing."

"Right," agreed Claudia from underneath an outrageous red felt hat, which her teacher wouldn't allow her to wear in the cla.s.sroom.

"I think fliers are the easiest way to tell people about our club. We can make up a nice ad and my mom can Xerox it at her office. Then we can stick copies in people's mailboxes. We can do it in our neighborhood and on other streets, too. Anywhere that's in bike-riding distance. Mary Anne, your dad would let you sit in another neighborhood if it weren't too far way, wouldn't he?"

"I guess so," Mary Anne replied uncertainly.

I saw Stacey glance curiously at Mary Anne.

"Good," I said. "Now, we already have a name - the Baby-sitters Club. Do you think we should have some kind of symbol or sign, too? You know, like the symbol that's on Girl Scout cookies, or the sun that's on the stationery my mom's company uses?"

"Yeah!" said Stacey. "That's a good idea. We could put it on top of our fliers. Claudia, you could draw something for us."

"I don't know," said Claudia.

"Come on, you're a great artist," I exclaimed. "You can draw anything."

"I know I can draw, but I'm not good at ... at symbols and stuff. Janine's better at those things."

"Oh, forget Janine," I said. "Anyway, we're all going to think of the symbol. We're a club. We have to agree on things. Now what could we use?"

"Well," said Mary Anne, "it could either be something that has to do with baby-sitters, like a child or a helping hand, or it could just be something we like: a rainbow or a shooting star or a frog - "

"A frog!" I burst out. I began to giggle. So did Claudia and Stacey.

Mary Anne looked embarra.s.sed. Then she began to laugh, too.

"How about a warthog?" suggested Claudia.

"A nerd!" said Stacey.

"Dog food!" We were all laughing so hard we could barely talk.

"Okay, let's be serious," I said when we had calmed down. "Lunch is going to be over in ten minutes."

"How about something with our names in it?" suggested Stacey.

"Yeah!" said Mary Anne and Claudia and I, but then we couldn't think of anything.

"How about an alphabet block with our initials on it?" said Mary Anne.

"That's cute," said Claudia, "but there are four of us, and you can't show more than three sides of a block at one time."

"Oh . . . yeah," said Mary Anne slowly. Claudia understands that kind of thing better than we do.

"Wait a minute!" Claudia cried. "I've got it. I could draw something like this." She took the pen and paper from me and drew this: "That's terrific! Really terrific!" I exclaimed. "It's perfect! Claudia, you're a - "I stopped. I'd almost said genuis, but Claudia's pretty touchy about that word. " - a pro," I finished.

The bell rang then and we had to go inside. But first we agreed to spend the weekend working on the Baby-sitters Club.

On Sat.u.r.day the four members of the Babysitters Club worked very hard. Mary Anne and Claudia and I called all the families we already baby-sat for and told them about the club. Then we wrote up a little ad about the club and phoned it into the Stoneybrook News. It would appear on Wednesday. We couldn't wait to see it.

Then Stacey had an idea. "I think we should elect, you know, officers of the club." We were sitting around in Claudia's room as usual.

"Officers?" Claudia repeated, looking confused. She was probably thinking of policemen.

"Yeah. A president, a vice-president, a secretary, and . . . and. . . ."

"A treasurer!" I supplied. "Perfect. Four officers, four of us."

"Oh, I get it," said Claudia. "Well, I nominate Kristy for president. The club was her idea."

"I second it," said Mary Anne.

"Me, too," said Stacey. "It's unanimous."

I grinned. "Wow! Thanks, you guys. Okay, I nominate Claudia for vice-president since we're using her room and her phone and phone number. She may get a lot of calls to handle when the rest of us aren't here."

"I second it," said Mary Anne.

"Me, too," chimed in Stacey. "Unanimous again."

Claudia beamed.

Mary Anne cleared her throat and looked around nervously. "Stacey, if you don't mind, I'd like to be secretary. I'm good at writing things down."

"That's perfect," said Stacey, "because I'm good with money and numbers. I was hoping I could be treasurer."

We didn't even bother to vote on Mary Anne and Stacey since everything was working out so well.

In celebration of the new officers, Claudia took a bag of Gummy Bears out of her pencil case and pa.s.sed it around.

Before the bag even reached Stacey, she leaped up, clapped her hands over her mouth, and exclaimed, "Oh, no! I have to go home, but I'll be right back."

"Stacey," I said, "if you're still on that dumb diet, you can just say so. You don't have to run away. Look, we'll put the Gummy Bears back."

"No, no, it's not that. I just - I just forgot something. It'll only take a minute." Stacey dashed out of Claudia's room.

Mary Anne and Claudia and I looked at each other and shrugged.

Stacey returned about twenty minutes later. Her hands were empty.

"Where is it?" I asked her.

"Where's what?"

"What you forgot."

"What I. . . ? Oh, no, I just forgot to do something. But it's all taken care of."

I started to ask her another question, but Claudia flashed me a look that said I was being a pest.

We worked on our flier then, and when it was all finished, this is what it looked like: Need a baby-sitter? Save time! Call: THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB KL 5-3231.

Monday, Wednesday, Friday 5:30-6:00 and reach four experienced baby-sitters.

Kristy Thomas, President Claudia Kishi, Vice-President Mary Anne Spier, Secretary Stacey McGill, Treasurer Available: weekends after school evenings Or call us one at a time, any time: Kristy Thomas KL 5-4378 Claudia Kishi KL 5-3231 Mary Anne Spier KL 5-9102 Stacey McGill KL 5-7844 "I'll give the flier to my mom," I said. "She can Xerox it on Monday and we can pa.s.s around the fliers next week. I've got to go home anyway. It's almost dinnertime, and Mom's going out with Watson tonight." I made a face.

"Who's Watson?" asked Stacey.

"Her boyfriend," I replied. "My parents are divorced."

"Oh," said Stacey, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Are your parents divorced, too?" I asked. I realized how little I knew about her.

"Nope. They've been married for fifteen years."

"Mine have been married for twenty years," said Claudia.

"My mother died when I was a baby," said Mary Anne quietly. "She had cancer."

Again Stacey looked embarra.s.sed.

"It's all right. Really. I don't remember her. But sometimes I wish I did."

I stood up. "Well, I really better go. See you guys tomorrow," I called as I started down the Kishis' stairs.

Watson arrived at 6:30. David Michael ran to meet him. He loves Watson. That's because he doesn't remember Dad, so he thinks Watson is better than no father at all.

I stayed in my room until Mom yelled up to me, "Kristy! Watson's here!"

Why does she always make me come down to see Watson? She knows how I feel about him.

"Coming," I said, trying to sound put-out, as if she had interrupted something important.

When I came downstairs, Watson was standing in the kitchen with cartons of Chinese food. "Surprise!" he said.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Isn't this nice, Kristy?" said Mom brightly. "Watson brought over Chinese food so we can all eat together before he and I go out."

Watson's always bringing over food. You'd think he owned a restaurant.

"Who's taking care of your kids?" I asked pointedly. I thought it was really stinky that on the weekend his kids came to stay, Watson not only had to go to work, but left the kids with a baby-sitter while he went out with my mother.

"I found a very nice baby-sitter," Watson replied pleasantly. "She took care of Andrew and Karen this morning while I went to the office, and they liked her very much."

"Oh," I said.

Watson set the white cartons on the table and began opening them while Sam and I got out plates, napkins, and silverware. I made a face at Sam to show him what I thought about the dinner, but Sam said, "Thanks, Watson. This is really great." Sam and Charlie sort of like Watson, too. Once Sam even baby-sat for Watson's kids. I, for one, will never, ever babysit for them. I bet they're brats.

"Yeah," said Charlie. "I'm taking Carole out for hamburgers tonight, but I don't mind eating first." Charlie has a stomach like a trash com-pacter.

"Mom?" I asked. "Is there any of that leftover chili?"

Mom glared at me. She didn't answer my question.