"Jessi!" I heard my aunt call from downstairs. "It's already quarter to five, and you promised to go to the store for me before your club meeting. You better get a move on!"

I jumped up. I'd almost forgotten that it was Wednesday, and I had to be at my BSC meeting by five-thirty. "Okay, Aunt Cecelia," I called back. "Be right down!" When Aunt Cecelia speaks, I listen. She doesn't like for people to ignore her orders — I mean, her requests. In fact, Becca and I used to have a mean name for her: Aunt Dictator. Actually, she's not so bad anymore. But when she first came to live with us this year (when my mother went back to work and needed help with Squirt), it took her awhile to understand how responsible and mature I can be. She treated me like a baby! And she wasn't too nice to Becca, either.

"Yes, sir — ma'am — Aunt Dictator!" I

said, under my breath. I grinned at Becca, hoping she would smile back.

And she did. At least, she gave me something resembling a smile. "That's better," I said. I gave her a squeeze and ran downstairs, humming "New York, New York" as I went.

Chapter 2.

Stacey and I arrived at the BSC meeting at exactly the same moment. We walked into Claudia Kishi's room — the official headquarters of the BSC — and saw that everyone else was already there.

"Hey," said Claudia. "It's the jet-setters. Off to fabulous New York for the weekend. Right, dahlings?"

"But of course," replied Stacey, grinning and striking a pose. "And then next week we're off to Paris for the start of the fashion season." She looked over at me. "Fabulous, isn't it?"

"Divine," I said. We cracked up. It was funny, but I did feel like a real sophisticate, knowing that I would soon be walking down Fifth Avenue. "I can't wait," I told Stacey. "By this time on Friday we'll be on our way!" We were going to miss a BSC meeting that day — something I hate to do — but the train we