"But I think the Brewers expect us to show up for breakfast. We shouldn't be lounging around in bed all morning when they're trying to feed sixteen in the kitchen." I hated to admit it, but I decided Mary Anne was probably right. I also thought that my stepsister was the only person in the whole world who would worry about something like that.

"Mmm, I think I smell bacon cooking," Mal said. She wriggled off her air mattress and stretched. "I agree with Mary Anne. We should all go downstairs." Jessi gave a gigantic yawn. "I've decided to have breakfast in bed," she said sleepily. "Just leave a tray outside the door for me." "Ha! Fat chance!" Claudia yelled, tossing a pillow at her. "If we get up, you get up." Mary Anne yanked open the drapes, and the room was flooded with harsh yellow sunlight. Everybody really woke up after that, including Kristy, who had burrowed like a mole under her fluffy pink quilt.

"Hey, Kristy," Stacey asked, "do we have to get dressed to go down to breakfast?" "On a Saturday morning? Are you kidding?" Kristy grinned and jammed her feet into a pair of fat down slippers. "That's the great part about weekends. You can wear whatever you want, and Mom and Watson won't care. Honest." Claudia glanced in the mirror. Her hair was a mass of tangles and her mascara had smudged over her cheekbones in two dark shadows. She looked like someone straight out of Night of the Living Dead.

"Claudia, you look awful," Kristy said cheerfully.

"You don't look so terrific yourself," Claudia retorted. She wasn't in the least bit offended because the truth is we all looked awful.

"I know. Isn't it fun?" Kristy grabbed her favorite baseball cap (the one with the collie on it) and plunked it on her head.