The Truth About Stacey by Ann M. Martin

age; that much I knew. Apparently, she thought her babysitters were her friends, though. Then Ellie had burst her bubble. Yet Charlotte had been asking for me. If I had come over just to visit (not to babysit), it would have proved I truly was a friend. No wonder she was upset.
    â€œHey, Char,” I said, “remember when we gave Jamie Newton the Big Brother Party? I invited you. I wasn’t baby-sitting for you then.”
    â€œYeah …” said Charlotte slowly.
    â€œAlso, what do Michelle and Leslie and Cathy do when they baby-sit for you?”
    â€œWatch TV. Talk on the phone. Once Leslie brought her boyfriend over.” I raised my eyebrows. “Cathy always does her homework, but she won’t help me with mine. She says, ‘I’m busy now.’ “
    â€œWhat do
I
do when I baby-sit?”
    â€œWell, you bring the Kid-Kit. We read stories and take walks and play games.”
    â€œThat’s being a friend, isn’t it?” I asked.
    Suddenly, Charlotte gave me a fierce hug.
    â€œYes,”
she said, “I’m sorry I was mad.”
    â€œThat’s all right.” I made a mental note to help Charlotte make some friends—some seven-year-old friends—in the neighborhood. One of the Pikes was seven, I thought. Then I told her what I had told Jamie that afternoon—that if she didn’t like her new sitters, she should talk to her parents. In particular, she should mention that Leslie had invited her boyfriend over.
    By the time Dr. Johanssen returned, Charlotte seemed like her old self.
    And Charlotte’s mother was very helpful. “It’s funny,” she said when I asked about a doctor. “You know what I was going to tell you? I was going to tell you about this very sensible doctor in New York. I guess we were thinking along the same lines.”
    I asked about the doctor’s office and whether he had a lot of diplomas. He seemed to fit the bill. “Do you think I could get an appointment with him on Saturday afternoon?” I asked. “That’s just three days away.”
    â€œI’ll pull a few strings,” said Dr. Johanssen. “And I better explain things to your parents.”
    â€œOh, no. Please don’t!” I cried. “It has to be a surprise. Otherwise it’ll never work.”
    â€œWell, how about if I write a note to your parents? You can give it to them over the weekend—before you see the doctor.”
    â€œAll right,” I said at last. That wasn’t quite what I had planned on, but I was willing to compromise. I didn’t want Dr. Johanssen to get in any trouble. “That’s great,” I said, and thanked her.
    I ran home feeling excited.
    My plan was underway.

Thursday, December 11
    Surprise! Today, Stacey called an emergency club meeting for lunchtime. That was unexpected for two reasons. First of all, Kristy had said no more club business in school. Second, Kristy calls emergency meetings at the drop of a hat, but no other member has ever called one. Stacey called one, though, and it was a good thing she did, because what she told us got the club ready for the final battle in the war against the Baby-sitters Agency.
    I read what Mary Anne wrote in our notebook about battles and wars, and I think she was being overly dramatic. However, she was right—it was good that we held that meeting. It started us thinking about some important things.
    Finding a place to hold the meeting turned out to be a problem. Kristy acted as if the school were bugged or something.
    â€œHow about at a separate table in the cafeteria?” Claudia suggested.
    â€œAre you kidding? Never!” said Kristy. “Someone’s
sure
to overhear us.”
    â€œIs there an empty classroom we could sit in?” asked Mary Anne.
    Kristy rejected the idea. “It’s too easy for someone to stand outside the door and eavesdrop.”
    â€œI guess the girls’ room