"We know, we know — New York. It's all you talk about."

"I was going to say," Stacey went on haughtily, "before I was interrupted, that I'm tough.

And I'm a fighter, and I don't need anybody. Not stuck-up job-hogs" — she looked at Clau-dia — "or bossy know-it-alls" — Kristy — "or shy little babies." Me.

"I am not a shy little baby!" I said, but as soon as I said it, my chin began to tremble and my eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, shut up," Kristy said crossly. Sometimes she has very little patience with me.

But I'd had it. I jumped to my feet. "No, you shut up," I shouted at Kristy. "And you, too," I said to Stacey. "I don't care how tough you are or how special you think you are because of your dumb diabetes, you have no right - "

"Don't call Stacey's diabetes dumb!" Claudia cut in.

"And don't bother to stick up for me," Stacey shouted back at Claudia. "Don't do me any favors."

"No problem," Claudia replied icily.

"Hey," said Kristy suddenly. "Who were you calling a bossy know-it-all before?"

"Who do you think?" replied Stacey.

"Me?!" Kristy glanced at me.

"Don't tell me to shut up and then expect me to help you," I told Kristy.

Kristy looked as if someone had just informed her that scientists had discovered that

the moon was in fact made of green cheese.

"Maybe I am shy," I said loudly, edging toward the door. "And maybe I am quiet, but you guys cannot step all over me. You want to know what I think? I think you, Stacey, are a conceited snob; and you, Claudia, are a stuck-up job-hog; and you, Kristin Amanda Thomas, are the biggest, bossiest know-it-all in the world, and I don't care if I never see you again!"

I let myself out of Claudia's room, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook. Then I ran down the stairs. Behind me, I could hear Claudia, Stacey, and Kristy yelling at each other. As I reached the Kishis' front hall, Claudia's door slammed again. Two more pairs of legs thundered down the stairs.