My parents say I have to learn discipline and responsibility. I say I am disciplined and responsible . . . but who needs to know about hypotenuses (hypotenusi?) or what letter "psychiatrist" begins with? (Anyone with half a brain would spell that word "sikiatrist." It would make much more sense. Furthermore, if you really think about it, in general, you hardly need the letter "c" at all. You could spell most "c" things with an "s" or a "k." You only need that "c" for spelling "chocolate" or "cheesecake," which by the way, could be spelled "choklit" and "chezkak." Just a thought. But is it any wonder I'm a bad speller?) I'll tell you something. I bet I wouldn't feel dumb sometimes if my sister Janine wasn't so smart. Janine is a genius. She is sixteen and basically a junior at Stoneybrook High, but already she takes courses at the local college. She did that last year, too. Can you imagine? She was fifteen and going to school with students who were, like, six years older than she was. Well, some of them were. And Janine's grades were as good as theirs. Or better. I think I'm just dumb by comparison. What I mean is I'm not dumb. But next to Janine I look dumb.

    Maybe if I got glasses and dressed in frumpy, dowdy clothes like Janine - no. I could never do that. I hope this doesn't sound conceited or shallow, but clothes and fashion are very important to me. Well, they are. They're almost as important as art and children and baby-sitting. I like to look good, and I'm good at looking good. All my friends say so. Sometimes they even copy my style. I wear pretty trendy clothes, and I like to be imaginative and try new things. I have to admit that the money I earn baby-sitting goes for art supplies (first) and then for jewelry and accessories and stuff. I have not saved much at all. (Unlike my friends Kristy and Jessi who hoard their money like squirrels hoard acorns.) As Archie and I knelt on the floor and picked up pieces of the rocket ship, I thought about the upcoming meeting of the BSC.