Read The Baby-Sitters Club Friends Forever #3: Mary Anne’s Big Break-up Online
Authors: Whitney Shimmell
wallet, they’ll know we were there too. Or at least that you were. It’s full of
identification.”
“Hello?” said the boy again.
“We are in so much trouble.” Maggie said slowly.
“Excuse me? Hello?” said the guy.
“How far did we come from the party?” Sunny asked him.
“About…let me see…about a quarter of a mile.”
“A quarter of a mile? You’re kidding. I feel like we walked two miles. At
least,” said Amalia.
“Can you drive us back there?” sunny asked the guy.
“To the party? No way. The yard is crawling with cops. They’re
everywhere. They’re taking a bunch of kids down to the station.”
Sunny sank down by the side of the road. I think she meant to sit on a
rock, but she missed it and sat on the muddy ground instead.
“Well, this is it,” said Sunny. “My life is over.”
Later Monday night 10/6
I have turned into an insomniac. I’ve been trying to fall asleep for the last
hour and a half, and nothing is happening. Finally I decided to get up and
continue the story in my journal. At that moment, I wish it were a made-up story.
Unfortunately, it’s true.
“Hey,” said the guy. “I very much doubt that your life is over. Come on. Get
in the car. I’l drive you wherever you need to go. Okay? I mean, it’s a start.” He pointed to his beat-up old car. “Come on. Climb in. I might not get you guys
wherever you need to go on time, but it’ll be better than stumbling around in the
woods in the middle of the night, won’t it?” He reached across the seat and
opened the passenger door.
Maggie, Sunny, Amalia, and I all did the same thing at once. In unison we
started for the car. Then we hesitated. We nearly had another pileup, I mean,
who was this guy we were about to trust with our lives? A familiar face from study hall. That was all.
The guy must have read my mind. “Oh. Sorry. You don’t even know my
name, do you? Wel , it’s Christopher McCrae. Guess what everyone calls me,
though?”
“Um, Chris?” I guessed.
He shook his head.” Nope. Ducky. From that Molly Ringwald movie, Pretty
in Pink. I saw it when I was a kid, and everyone in my family thought I was a
young Ducky, so they started cal ing me that, and the name just stuck. Anyway,
I’m sixteen years old, I’m in tenth grade at Vista, and I enjoy speed-reading,
gourmet cooking, and fly-fishing.”
I giggled. Ducky seemed okay. He certainly seemed more okay than
wondering around in the woods or getting arrested. Maggie, Sunny, and Amalia
must have thought so too, because the next thing I knew, the four of us had piled
into his car.
“Evening, ladies,” said Ducky. He put a baseball cap on his head. “I am
Pierre and I will be your chauffeur for the evening. Where to?”
“Well, three of us are going – “ I started to say and then realized that we
hadn’t introduced ourselves to Ducky yet.
“Oh, wait! Um, Ducky, I’m Dawn Schafer – “
“And I’m Amalia Vargas,” Amalia interrupted me. “We’re the ones who are
in your study hall.”
“And that’s Maggie Blume,” I said, pointing. “And that’s Sunny Winslow,
the one who is currently wallet-free.”
“And il ,” Sunny croaked.
I turned to Sunny in alarm. She was sitting in the backseat between
Maggie and me.
“Now are you going to barf again?” Amalia asked her.
“Um, maybe. The car is making me – “
Ducky stopped the car with a little screech of the brakes. “Why don’t you
sit up front? Next to the window. I mean, since I just had the car cleaned an all.”
Sunny, Amalia, and I slid out of the car and traded places so that Sunny
could sit next to Ducky. He helpfully rolled her window al the way down for her.
When we were settled, Ducky took off again.
“So where are we going,” he asked.
“Well, Sunny and Maggie and I are all going to the same place,” I said. I
told him how to get to Jil ’s house.
“And I’m going to Royal Lane,” added Amalia. “Off of Longwood.”
“When do you have to be home?” I asked Ducky.
“No particular time. It doesn’t matter. My brother’s out late tonight.”
“Your brother? What about your parents?” Maggie asked him, and I
nudged her. What if his parents were dead or something?
“Oh, my parents trust me,” said Ducky. (He sailed over a bump in the road
and I saw Sunny edge closer to the window.) “Anyway, there isn’t much they can
do from Accra?”
“Accra?” repeated Maggie.
“Yeah, in Africa. Ghana. They’re there for a year. They’re professors. So
it’s just my brother and me.”
“How old’s your brother?” asked Amalia.
“Twenty. He’s a junior at Palo Tech. But he’s living at home this year. That
way my parents didn’t have to make any arrangements for me while they’re
gone. It’s kind of a weird situation, I guess, but it’s working okay.”
“Cool,” said Maggie.
“How long have you had your car?” asked Amalia.
“I got her the day I turned sixteen,” said Ducky. “She’s a 1972 Buick, so
she’s older than I am. I paid $450 for her. She was worth every penny.”
“She’s…beautiful,” I said, as I nearly lost my hand down an enormous hole
in the seat. “Very retro.”
I was so fascinated by Ducky and his car that I had almost forgotten about
the trouble we were in. Then Ducky said, “Okay, Amalia, here’s Royal Lane.
Where’s your house?”
Amalia closed her eyes briefly. “The third one on the left.” She opened her
eyes and leaned forward to peer ahead. “It’s dark,” she said. “I don’t know what
that means, whether it’s good or bad.”
Ducky slowed down, then stopped in front of the house. “Do you want me
to wait?” he asked Amalia.
“No. You better go,” she said, whispering now. “I’ll see you all in school on
Monday.” She scrambled out of the car.
Ducky turned the car around and we started off again, this time in a
quieter mood.
“So how come you’re all going to the same address?” Ducky asked,
glancing in the rearview mirror.
Maggie told him about Jill and the sleepover.
“You think her mother and sister are home by now?” he said.
“Who has a working watch?” asked Sunny sullenly.
“I do,” said Ducky. “It’s 12:40.”
“I’m positive they’re home,” replied Sunny.
After a pause Ducky said, “If you want, I could come get you guys
tomorrow morning. I could take you back to the house where the party was, and
we could look for your wallet, Sunny.”
“But won’t someone see us?” she asked.
“Um, no. No one’s home. I mean, they’re gone for the weekend.:
I had the unpleasant feeling that Ducky was leaving something out, but
Sunny brightened. “Would you really do that?” she asked.
“Sure,” replied Ducky, brightening himself. “I’d be happy to. I’ll come get
you at eleven tomorrow, okay?”
“Cool!” she cried.
“Well, here we are,” Ducky said a few moments later as he stopped in
front of the Hendersons’.
I peered out the window. Like Maggie’s house, Jill’s was dark. Not a single
light on.
“Maybe they’re not back,” I suggested.
“No, they’re back,” said Maggie. “If they were still out, the porch light
would be on, at least.”
We slithered out of Ducky’s car and waved at him as he pul ed away and
drove down the street. Then we headed for the front door.
Early Tuesday morning 10/7
An almost sleepless night. If things don’t get straightened out soon I’l
have bags under my eyes big enough to carry stuff in. It’s 4:45 AM. I’ve been
awake since 4:10. I can write for almost two hours before anyone else gets up
around here.
“Well, now what should we do?”
Sunny and Maggie and I were standing halfway up the Hendersons’ lawn,
gazing at the dark house..
“Which window is Jill’s?” asked Sunny loudly.
“That one,” I said, pointing to the second story. “And the one next to it.
Hey, I think a little light is on in her room!”
“Should we call to her?” asked Maggie. “Which one is her mother’s
window?” Maggie looked awfully nervous.
“Her mother’s room is in the back,” I said. “But don’t cal to Jill. Here.” I
picked up a small stone and tossed it at one of Jill’s windows. It banged against
the screen.
Nothing.
“Throw another,” said Sunny, not quite so loudly. She looked sort of
miserable again. She was lying on the front stoop, cradling her head in her arms.
Four stones later, Jill suddenly yanked up her window shade. She waved
crossly at us, then disappeared.
“Oh, by. She’s still mad,” said Maggie.
“Still mad,” repeated Sunny. “No, I think she’s mad again. She has way
more things to be mad about now.” Sunny sat up. “Oh. Oh, do I ever feel sick
again.”
Two minutes later, Jill quietly unlocked the front door and opened it – just
in time to hear Sunny retching in the bushes.
“What-? Ew…What is-? Oh, ew!” Jill closed the door in our faces. If it
hadn’t been so late at night, I think she would have slammed it.
I stood there staring at the door. Finally I called, “Jil ?”
The door opened a crack. “What is going on?” whispered Jill. “Where have
you been? Is Sunny finished throwing up? Why is she throwing up – out here?
Couldn’t she at least have waited until she got outside? That is so disgusting.”
I looked at Maggie. I didn’t know which question to answer first. So instead
I asked Jill a question. “Where is your mom?”
“She’s here. She’s in bed.”
“Well, where does she think we are?”
Jil glanced at Sunny, who had finished puking and had sunk down on the
porch steps. “She thinks you’re here too. Asleep. I left a not for her that she found when she came home. It said we were tired and had gone to bed early. I had to
lie to her for you.”
With that, Jill opened the door the rest of the way and silently held it open
for us. We slipped inside and she locked it behind us. Then without a word she
tiptoed through the dark house and upstairs to her room. We followed her. She
was wearing pajamas with feet in them.
“Don’t you want to know what happened to us?” Maggie asked her.
“Not real y.” Jill turned on her light. It was the big overhead light.
“Oh. Oh, man. That is so bright,” said Sunny moaning. She crawled onto
the bed and put Jill’s pil ow over her head.
Jil grabbed it off. “You have been barfing!” she cried. “I don’t want your
face all over my pillow!”
Sunny was too miserable to argue. She pul ed off her sweatshirt and put
that over her head instead.
“Look, Jil , I know you’re mad – “ I started to say.
“Of course I’m mad!” she cried. “I hate lying, especial y to my mom. I don’t
know why I bothered anyway. I should have told her the truth. Why did I even
cover for you?”
“We appreciate it,” said Sunny in a small voice from under her sweatshirt.
“We real y do.”
That seemed to make a difference to Jil . “You do?” she said.
“Of course we do,” Maggie and I said together.
“We real y did try to get home on time,” I added, which wasn’t exactly true.
“But then things got a little out of control at the party.”
“Yeah, they older kids started throwing people in the pool,” said Maggie.
“So then we were, um, trying to dry off so that we, um, wouldn’t be quite such a
mess when your mom came home.”
“But it was getting later and later,” I went on. “And then, just when we were
ready to leave, the police showed up.”
“The police!” exclaimed Jil , managing to look both amazed and
disapproving. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, we don’t know why,” said Maggie.
“The party was too noisy,” mumbled Sunny.
“Well, anyway, we didn’t want to get caught, so we just ran out of the yard
– it was an outdoor party,” I said, “and into the woods, but we didn’t know where
to go, so we sort of got lost, and even when we finally came to a road, we didn’t
know where we were. Luckily, Ducky – Ducky McCrae, he’s a sophomore – drove
by then and gave us a ride over here. And that’s why we’re late.”
“Boy,” said Jil , now looking almost sympathetic.
“And I lost my wallet,” said Sunny, briefly lifting up the shirt.
“What?” said Jill.
“I lost my wallet. At the party. I think Ducky is – “
“You lost it at the party?” Jil interrupted her. “Oh, that’s just great. That is
wonderful. When the police discover it, they’ll cal your house and in two seconds everyone will find out where you al really were tonight, and my mom will know I
lied to her.”
“Jil , this is so not about you,” exclaimed Sunny as loudly as she could.
”This is about me. How did you manage to turn the conversation around to you?
Huh?”
“How did I?” Jill repeated. “Because it is too about me. I’m the one you
guys ditched tonight. I’m the one who had to cover for you, to tel lies for you. I’m the one-“
Maggie jumped to her feet. “Okay, okay!” she said. “You know what?
Everyone is mad. Everyone is tired. It’s really late. I think we should go to sleep now and talk about this in the morning when we’re feeling better.”
Tuesday 10/7, in study hall
Feeling better? Ha. What a joke. When we woke up on Sunday morning,
we were al exhausted, even Jill, since she’d been up later than usual the night
before. And even Sunny, despite the fact that she had PASSED OUT.
Yes, she had truly passed out. And it wasn’t until I had cried (softly),
“Maggie, she’s passed out!” that Jil finally understood that Sunny had gotten…