One other thing about Jessi. She's the only

black member of the BSC. That's because the Ramseys are one of the very few black families in Stoneybrook. When they first moved here, some people gave them a rough time. But things are much smoother now. As far as us BSC members are concerned, that prejudice was absolutely stupid.

I think Mallory Pike may secretly like being one of our younger members. That's because in real life she's the oldest of — get ready — eight kids. Can you imagine? Her brothers and sisters are Vanessa, Margo, Nicky, the triplets (Adam, Jordan, and Byron), and Claire. No wonder Mal's favorite pastimes are writing and drawing. They're things she can do alone. Mal's dream in life, by the way, is to be a children's book author and illustrator.

Anyway, there they are, the Baby-sitters Club in person. (Or is it "in persons"? "In people"?) That Friday's meeting started out typically. We were noisy and excited (it was the start of the weekend, after all). I was explaining my project to the others. For some reason, it seemed to make everyone twice as hungry. The Milky Ways and M&M's were going like crazy (not to mention the pretzels for Dawn and Stacey).

Kristy was sitting in her official place, a director's chair by my desk. She was wearing her visor, and a pencil was tucked over one

ear. Her eyes were glued to the digital clock on my dresser, which read 5:29. At precisely five-thirty she called out, "Order!"

The Baby-sitters Club meeting had officially begun.

Chapter 3.

We were all in position. Mary Anne, Stacey, and I were cross-legged on my bed. Dawn had turned my desk chair around and was sitting in it with her arms resting on the back. Mal and Jessi were stretched out on the carpet.

"Any new business?" Kristy asked.

The answer to Kristy's question was the sound of jaws chomping. Everyone looked around silently.