CHAPTER ONE

The Baby-sitters Club. I'm proud to say it was totally my idea, even though the four of us worked it out together. "Us" is Mary Anne Spier, Claudia Kishi, Stacey McGill, and me — Kristy Thomas.

I got the idea on the first Tuesday afternoon of seventh grade. It was a very hot day. It was so hot that in my unair-conditioned school,StoneybrookMiddle School , the teachers had opened every single window and door and turned off all the lights. My hair stuck damply to the back of my neck, and I wished I had a rubber band so I could pull it into a long ponytail. Bees flew into the classroom and droned around our heads, and Mr. Redmont, our teacher, let us stop working to make fans out of construction paper. The fans didn't do much except keep the bees away, but it was

nice to take up ten minutes of social studies making them.

Anyway, that stifling afternoon dragged on forever, and when the hands of the clock on the front wall of our classroom finally hit2:42 and the bell rang, I leaped out of my seat and shouted, "Hurray!" I was just so glad that it was time to get out of there. I like school and everything, but sometimes enough is enough.

Mr. Redmont looked shocked. He was probably thinking he'd been so nice letting us make fans and there I was, not appreciating it at all, just glad the day was over.

I felt bad, but I couldn't help what I'd done. I'm like that. I think of something to say, and I say it. I think of something to do, and I do it. Mom calls it impulsive. Sometimes she calls it trouble. But she doesn't just mean trouble. She means trouble.

And I was in trouble then. I could sense it. I've been in enough trouble to know when it's coming.

Mr. Redmont cleared his throat. He was trying to think of a way to punish me without humiliating me in front of the other kids. Things like that are important to him.