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to.”
    â€œYou
read
to her?” said the girl incredulously.“Gosh, when I baby-sit, I use the time to watch TV.”
    â€œYou do?” I said, just as incredulously.“What do the kids do while you’re watching? Watch with you?”
    She shrugged.“Sometimes…. I don’t really care.”
    â€œOh….” She was not right for our club. I was glad she didn’t ask any more questions.
    The second kid, a boy, said, “You have to go to three meetings a week? I don’t think I could fit that into—into my schedule.”
    The third kid was an eighth-grade girl who hated Liz Lewis. Perfect!
    I told her about Charlotte.
    I told her about David Michael.
    I told her about Jamie.
    I told her about Claire and Margo Pike and Nina and Eleanor Marshall. Then I told her about the meetings and the notebook.“It sounds like too much work, ” she said, and left.
    The bell rang. The Baby-sitters Club walked into school together—Claudia, Mary Anne, and I—taking our sandwich boards off as we went.
    Kristy was grinning.“How did you guys do?” she asked.
    â€œTerrible, ” I muttered.
    â€œRotten, ” said Claudia.
    â€œAwful, ” said Mary Anne.“How come you’re smiling?”
    â€œBecause I have good news!” announcedKristy.“But we won’t discuss it in school. I’ll tell you everything at our meeting this afternoon…. And put your signs back on. Wear them in the halls and the cafeteria today.”
    â€œIn the cafeteria! How are we supposed to eat with these things on?” asked Claudia crossly.“We can’t sit down.”
    â€œWell, at least wear them in the lunch line.”
    â€œOh, fine, ” grumbled Claudia, but she joined Mary Anne and me in placing the signs back over our shoulders.
    I went to my locker, put my lunch away, and got out the books I’d need for the morning. Then I rushed off to English class. On the way, I passed Pete Black.
    I nearly fainted.
    Between math class and advanced French (I was in the advanced class because in my school in New York we had been given French lessons since kindergarten), I passed Pete again.
    He didn’t look at me. Had he really not seen me, or was he embarrassed by the sign?
    It didn’t matter, because at lunchtime, when I approached our table in the cafeteria, still bravely wearing the sign, Pete looked up and smiled at me.“Let me help you take that thing off, ” he said. He lifted it over my shoulders.
    â€œEmbarrassed to be seen with me while I’m wearing it?” I asked.
    Pete grinned.“Nah…. Well, maybe a little. But it takes guts to do what you’re doing.”
    â€œWant to be in the club? We could use some boys.”
    Pete coughed.
“Me?
Take care of little kids?”
    â€œSure, why not?”
    â€œI—I wouldn’t know what to do.”
    â€œWell, never mind. It’s okay.”
    We turned to our lunches. Pete is very serious about food. We’d been eating for about five minutes when I noticed that his face was turning red.
    â€œHey, what’s wrong? Are you all right?” I thought he might be choking.
    Pete swallowed.“Yeah, sure. I’m fine. But I have to ask you something.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWhat I was wondering is … do you want to go to the Snowflake Dance with me?”
    â€œThat’s not until December, is it?”
    â€œThis is December. It’s December first.”
    â€œOh, wow! You’re right.” I was really flattered. Even if it was December, the dance was still almost three weeks away. And Pete was already asking me.“I’d love to go, ” I told him.“Thanks.”
    Across the table, Claudia was grinning at me. Suddenly, I knew I wouldn’t mind wearing the sandwich board anymore.
    Kristy was in a great mood at our meeting that afternoon. I couldn’t see why.“Nobody wanted to join the club,