"Hey," I greeted her. I pulled her hand out of her mouth and looked at her nails. "Mary Anne! How do you ever expect to be able to wear nail polish if you keep doing that?"

"Oh, come on," she said with a sigh. "Nail

polish. I'll be seventy-five before my father lets me wear it."

Mary Anne's father is the only family she's got. Her mother is dead, and she has no brothers or sisters. Unfortunately, her father is pretty strict. My mother says it's just because Mr. Spier is nervous since Mary Anne is all he's got. You'd think, though, that he could let her wear her hair down instead of always in braids, or give her permission to ride her bike to the mall with Claudia and me once in a while. But, no. At Mr. Spier's house it's rules, rules, rules. It's a miracle that Mary Anne was even allowed to become a member of the Baby-sitters Club.

We walked out of school, and suddenly I began running. I forgot all about decorum, because I'd just remembered something else. "Oh, my gosh!" I cried.

Mary Anne raced after me. "What is it?" she panted.

"It's Tuesday," I called over my shoulder.

"So? Slow down, Kristy. It's too hot to run."

"I can't slow down. Tuesday is my afternoon to watch David Michael. I'm supposed to beat him home. Otherwise he gets home first and has to watch himself."

David Michael is my six-year-old brother.

My big brothers, Charlie and Sam, and I are each responsible for him one afternoon a week until Mom gets home from work. Kathy, this fifteen-year-old girl who lives a few blocks from us, watches him the other two afternoons. Kathy gets paid to watch him. Charlie and Sam and I don't.

Mary Anne and 1 ran all the way home. We reached my front yard, sweaty and out of breath. And there was David Michael, sitting forlornly on the front steps, his dark curls falling limply across his forehead.