The Baby-Sitters Club Friends Forever #3: Mary Anne’s Big Break-up by Whitney Shimmell Read Free Book Online Page B

then. Maggie pulled hers out
    of her purse and handed it to Sunny. “Thanks. Okay. We should be almost there.
    It should be down that road.”
    We were in an area on the outskirts of Palo City that I’d never been in
    before. The houses were huge, but their yards were huger. There were only a
    few houses on each road – and a lot of woods between them.
    “What time is it?” I asked.
    Maggie looked at her watch. “Twenty after ten.”
    “Perfect,” said Sunny.
    Suddenly I could hear voices. “Listen,” I hissed.
    We listened.
    “Party time!” cried Sunny.
    Sunny had found the house, all right. It was dark (and locked, as I found
    out later), but the yard was lit with lanterns and strings of lights. Two spotlights lit the pool area.
    “Whose house is this?” I whispered. Mostly to stall for time. I was
    beginning to feel nervous.
    Sunny shrugged. “Who knows? That’s part of the secret, I guess. Come
    on.”
    The yard was fil ing with kids. Only a few were in the pool because it was
    chilly. Plus, the invitation hadn’t said to bring a bathing suit. I noticed that the kids who were in the pool were swimming with their clothes on. Wel , okay, to be more
    accurate, they weren’t swimming. They were making out on floats.
    “Do you guys see anyone you recognize?” whispered Maggie.
    “Actual y, I do,” I replied. “Quite a few.”
    Quite a few older kids too,” added Sunny.
    The eighth-graders were easy to tell apart from the upperclassmen. They
    were the ones who looked total y uncomfortable as they sipped from plastic cups
    or tried to light cigarettes.
    “What do you suppose they’re drinking?” I asked. On a table near the pool
    was a huge bowl filled with some kind of pale liquid. It seemed to be the only
    thing to drink. I didn’t see any food at al .
    “I don’t know, but I plan to find out,” replied Sunny. She started to march
    across the lawn toward the pool.
    “Wait!” I cried.
    “What?” said Sunny. “Why?”
    “Just…wait. I mean, don’t leave us yet. Let’s stick together for a few
    minutes. I want to, you know, check things out.”
    “And don’t we have to tell someone we’re here?” asked Maggie. “Who’s
    giving the party? Shouldn’t we find them and say thanks for inviting us? We
    should at least introduce ourselves.”
    “I don’t know.” Sunny looked doubtful. “I don’t think this is that kind of
    party. That sounds like a cocktail party for old people. This one is more cool.”
    “Well, just stay with us for a few minutes,” I begged Sunny. “Okay? Then
    you can go.”
    “Okay,” agreed Sunny.
    We stationed ourselves near a lounge chair not far from the pool and took
    a good look around. Music was playing loudly – but I wasn’t sure where it was
    coming from. Someone must have set up speakers or boom boxes somewhere.
    Kids were clustered throughout the yard. One strange thing: I had sort of thought
    that the purpose of the party was for the upperclassmen to get to know us eighth-
    graders, at least us select eighth-graders. But I didn’t se much mingling going on.
    I saw lots of little groups of older kids, and lots of little groups of eighth-graders, but hardly any mixed groups.
    And now, as the sun rises slowly in the east, I hear Carol’s clock radio
    going off, so I’ll have to stop here for awhile. It’s time to get ready for school.
    School. Dum-de-dum-dum.
    Thank goodness I’l have my journal to turn to today.
    Monday 10/6, in study hall
    Maggie and Sunny and I were standing in a tight knot just trying to get the
    feel of things. I noticed that the group of older kids were a little more animated than us eighth-graders. They were laughing and talking loudly. One guy kept
    throwing kids in the pool. And they were al drinking whatever was in that bowl on the table. A lot of them were smoking, too. They seemed to have an endless
    supply of cigarettes. The cigarettes kept appearing out of people’s sleeves,
    pockets, shirt cuffs, and