Post by fluffernutter on Jul 11, 2013 13:44:41 GMT -5
A somewhat updated version of the BSC through Janine’s eyes. This was originally going to be two stories which ended up going nowhere, so there’s a bit of a time jump in the middle. Three, four parts at most.
Saturday, May 20 –
It’s hard to believe Claudia will soon graduate from the eighth grade. Kristy, Stacey, and Mary Anne are here for a club meeting, and once summer vacation begins, I expect to see Dawn, Mallory, Jessi, and Abby as well. In a matter of weeks, I believe the Baby-sitters Club will once again be an all-consuming force in their eyes.
I paused a moment before typing, Summer classes can’t start soon enough.
My name is Janine Kishi. If you know my sister Claudia, you must know that my wish for classes to begin is not unusual. You may have heard that I have an IQ of 196. Well, that is the sort of absurd misinformation you receive when Claudia is your source. It is, in fact, 146. I am sixteen, recently earned my Master’s in Computer Science, and plan to take a few extra classes on the subject this summer. Since I can remember, I have been fascinated by computers. While others my age were content with playing somewhat educational computer games, I was intrigued by how they worked. I find the logic of programming fascinating.
My sister doesn’t understand my interests. I know she’s jealous because she struggles in school and her teachers compare her to me, but I won’t apologize for something that’s not my fault. Nor will I apologize for correcting her grammar and spelling; someone has to. No amount of artistic ability will ever compensate for her inability to differentiate between “your” and “you’re,” and her friends do her no favors by allowing her to think otherwise.
Claudia is much closer to our parents, though I don’t know if she fully appreciates that. I suppose I understand how the prodigal son’s responsible brother felt. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not burning with envy. I understand why things are the way they are. She is the one who constantly needs help with her schoolwork so she doesn’t fail, while I have not asked my parents for help since I was ten. She gets at least as much praise for her art as I do for my academic achievements. And of course, I have spent most of my time in classes and studying at the university library, while Claudia has had much more time at home. This does not bother me, however, as much as the fact that Claudia was also much closer to our grandmother, Mimi, before she died last summer. I was always more independent, whereas Claudia was “her Claudia.” After Mimi’s stroke, Claudia volunteered to help take care of her right away. While she was at school or babysitting, Mimi and I would sometimes go for walks or play Scrabble, but just the same, I would have liked more time with her.
Though our relationship has deteriorated in recent years, my sister and I used to get along fairly well. Sitting at my desk, I wondered if she missed that too. I looked at the clock and saw that it was five minutes to six. The girls’ club meeting would soon be over, so I thought perhaps this would be a good time to see.
My sister thinks herself quite clever, hiding junk food in her room. I suppose there is some beneath her bed, in her closet, and in her many drawers, as well as the Nancy Drew books our parents dislike. I, however, disdain such obvious hiding spots. I had a few bars of dark chocolate with fruit and nuts taped to the bottom of my dresser, a bag of caramels buried in the flower pots along my windowsill, and a bag of sour gummy worms floating in the water reservoir of my portable air conditioner. There really was no need; while my parents have expressed concern over the possible effects of the food coloring and additives in the junk food Claudia constantly eats, they have never banned it altogether. Still, I suppose it was a slight thrill to have a secret stash of candy. I found what I believed to be suitable peace offerings and approached Claudia’s door.
As I was about to knock, however, I couldn’t help overhearing them as they made unflattering comparisons between myself and a character on a television show. I am not entirely ignorant of popular culture, and I am vaguely familiar with the program, in which a socially inept anthropologist assists the FBI. I stood frozen for a moment before returning to my room.
I closed the door, replaced the junk food, and sat down once more at my desk, where I thought of my sister and her friends. Kristy is a leader and takes the club she started very seriously, insisting they meet at five-thirty Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Mary Anne is considered sensitive. She does try to diffuse tense situations when they arise and doesn’t intentionally start fights, but she is fourteen, and there are times when it shows. Stacey is very interested in fashion and boys. I suppose that’s normal, and so far, her relationships have been fairly innocent, but honestly, she’s fourteen. What does she think is going to happen? I understand she made a few friends when she first moved here from New York City, but the club has monopolized her time to such an extent that I suppose she is very insecure and somewhat lonely without them. Dawn believes individuality is very important, second only to the environment. Perhaps, but when your supposed individuality negatively impacts another, change may be appreciated. Furthermore, rather than encouraging my sister when she mocks my speech, she might tell her that it does indeed make sense to adjust the amount of clothes one wears before attempting to adjust one’s environment. I must commend her, however, for escaping the club when she had the chance and not backing down in the face of Kristy’s fury. At eleven, Mallory was practically giddy to be accepted by the “big girls,” to which I smiled a tad condescendingly while resisting the urge to pat her on the head while cooing, “Aren’t you adorable?” Since then, she has broadened her horizons at boarding school and now appears more confident on the occasions when she comes home. Jessi is twelve and an aspiring ballerina. I don’t understand her decision to defer her dreams for the club, as she once did.
Don’t get me wrong. They’re all responsible, dedicated babysitters, but they are twelve and fourteen. Sometimes they play favorites with clients and get distracted by their middle school drama. I know they think I’m a loner, with only my books for company. To roll one’s eyes is a puerile expression of disrespect to which I will not lower myself, so I settled for drumming my fingers on my desk. It seems as though every other week my sister and her friends have some argument or another that gets out of hand, and someone always ends up in tears or storming out. One time, shortly after the formation of their club, Claudia wanted to spend more time on her art. Considering her performance in school, I believe art may be her future career and cannot understand why her friends became upset. I suppose she was spending a lot of time with Ashley, but their reaction seemed unwarranted. She holds the position of vice president only because the club meets in her room, uses her phone line, and shares her food. She has no real responsibilities and, while it would be courteous to inform her friends that she could not attend beforehand, it would be no trouble for them if she were to miss a meeting. Personally, I am perfectly content with three good friends.
I was suddenly roused from my musings by a ding from my computer, announcing that my friend Alyssa had sent me a message.
J - Mom and Dad going out for a few hours. Come over?
I sent my reply instantly.
Be there soon.
I met Alyssa about a year ago, when I first began working at a local diner. My parents had decided that, at fifteen, I was too young and too busy with my studies to accept any of the more prestigious job offers I had received. Alyssa and her friends, Lily and Katie, now my friends as well, came by every day, and once when I was on my lunch break, they invited me to sit with them. For as long as I can remember, I have been focused on my studies and never had much time for friends. You may have heard from my sister that I had a boyfriend for a while, but the worst part of that was that we weren’t really friends. We had little in common, and after we broke up, I questioned if I ever really liked him at all. But these girls were so nice, and I learned that Alyssa was absolutely brilliant in math, so we had at least one thing in common. Suddenly, I was desperate for them to like me. When I went home, I would study their music, their clothes – most secondhand, with few popular name brands – and their interests. It took a while for me to understand that I didn’t have to do anything for them to accept me, but when I realized that, it made a big difference.
I put my books away and ran downstairs. I found my mother in the kitchen.
“How was work?” I asked.
“Oh?” She looked up as if surprised by my presence. “Fine. Is Claudia done with her meeting?”
“I believe so, but they’re still upstairs. Do you need any help with dinner?” I asked.
“Oh, no. You can go ahead and study or – whatever,” she finished, recalling suddenly that I’ve graduated.
“Alyssa asked me to come over. Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead.”
At that, I went back to my room to get my backpack and saw that Alyssa had sent another message.
Mrs. Newton needs a sitter for Lucy. Just dropped her off.
She doesn’t want to call the BSC? I thought sardonically.
For the record, I do not dislike children, nor am I completely inept when it comes to caring for a child, though my sister and her friends would likely say otherwise. And personally, I don’t understand why the BSC always complains about some children, like Jenny Prezzioso. She’s so nice and neat all the time. I’m always happy to sit for her.
“Mrreow?”
Upon my arrival at Alyssa’s house, I was greeted by her fluffy ginger cat. I simply love it here. I suppose Claudia and her friends might feel differently about this “little, middle of nowhere place” if they knew Alyssa had three younger siblings, not to mention two older brothers. As it is, I don’t believe I am under any obligation to inform them.
As I looked at Alyssa, standing on the porch beside Lucy in her stroller, I couldn’t help smiling at the memory of Claudia’s dismissal of her. If only she knew. Alyssa wore a lavender plaid button-up shirt, a long brown ruffled skirt, and silver ballet flats. I admit I am biased, but I must say that her fashion sense quite rivals Stacey’s. Of course, that is not the only area in which they are rivals.
“He likes you,” I said with a nod, as Sam Thomas drove past.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alyssa said.
“He talked to you yesterday,” I reminded her.
“I imagine he speaks to many people throughout the course of the day. He’s very social.”
I sighed, feigning annoyance. “Yes, but he rarely sustains a conversation for more than five minutes. I would say you are most definitely an exception.”
Our conversation was interrupted suddenly, as Alyssa’s brother Nick entered.
“Hey,” he greeted us. “I’m going to pick up Sarah and Rachel from soccer. Did you want anything from the store?”
“We’re fine, thanks,” Alyssa said.
“You sure? Janine?” he asked, turning to me.
“I’m fine,” I replied.
“Okay,” he said. “Later.”
After he left the room, Alyssa raised her eyebrows and said, “Funny how considerate he is when you’re here.”
I began to protest, but she said, “You didn’t listen when I said he was trying to get your attention when you first started working at the diner. You didn’t listen when I said the only time he comes in is when you’re working there. You didn’t listen when I said he likes you. Are you listening now?”
“Is Lucy wearing sunblock?” I asked. “We should get her inside before she’s exposed to too much sun.”
Alyssa laughed and followed me into the house.
“Hello, girls,” her mother greeted us as we stepped into the living room. “Janine, will you be staying for dinner?”
“I’d love to, thanks,” I said.
After setting Lucy down in a play area for a nap, Alyssa asked, “Want to see what Lily and Katie are doing?”
“So, have you told them yet?” Lily asked half an hour later, as we sat on the floor of Alyssa’s room with iced tea and slices of homemade raisin bread, after Mrs. Newton had come to pick Lucy up.
“No, not yet.”
Lily, Alyssa, and Katie sighed dramatically.
“Janine,” Alyssa began.
Alyssa was homeschooled all her life, so you could say she never got the typical high school experience either. What she did get was a better than average education and a higher degree of socialization than most people our age. While our peers were sitting listlessly in class, texting or playing games online, she was interacting with people of all ages and preparing for life in the real world. She just finished high school and now wants to move into a dorm and get “the real college experience,” minus the partying and all that. She suggested, months ago, that I join her so we could room together. Now all that’s left is for me to explain to my parents why I need a second Bachelor’s degree, in English of all things.
“I know, I know. I’m just–”
“What?” she asked. “Waiting for the right time? You’ve been saying that for months.”
“It’s just…Claudia’s grades are worse than ever, and they’re saying she might not graduate. Mom and Dad are counting on me to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t get in trouble with those friends of hers; they don’t even know the half of it. And I did get my driver’s license, and this job, and Mom and Dad expect me to look into doctorate programs, and–”
My voice broke and I buried my face in my hands, breathing deeply, trying and failing to justify my inability to take another step toward adulthood. We were already sitting in a close circle, so it was easy for everyone to join in a group hug. We stayed that way for a minute before Katie spoke.
“Okay, we get it. You’re stressed. Why don’t you take a break?”
“You know,” Alyssa added, “I’ve been thinking of taking a gap year to work and maybe do some traveling. Maybe we both need to take a year off and figure things out.”
With that, it felt as if all the pressure had lifted.
“That sounds perfect,” I said.
We continued talking for some time, and before long, the conversation came to my most recent interaction with Claudia.
“She actually said that to you?” Lily burst out.
I nodded.
“Her exact words were, ‘At least I have friends.’”
“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything, though I know what I wanted to say. Something along the lines of, ‘At least I like my friends.’”
Everyone smiled and nodded approvingly.
“You’re really sticking to your resolution of not saying anything back to her,” Katie said. “Do you think it’s changed anything?”
“I don’t know if she’s noticed, but it does feel better knowing I’m not contributing to the problem anymore. At least, I’m trying.”
“I suppose it’s sad, really, how often she and her supposed friends fight,” Alyssa commented.
We all agreed to that.
“Hey, um, thanks,” I told them.
“For what?” Katie asked.
“Being my friends,” I finished awkwardly.
Of course, this led to another group hug and a toast, which led to us actually making raisin bread toast.
Saturday, May 20 –
It’s hard to believe Claudia will soon graduate from the eighth grade. Kristy, Stacey, and Mary Anne are here for a club meeting, and once summer vacation begins, I expect to see Dawn, Mallory, Jessi, and Abby as well. In a matter of weeks, I believe the Baby-sitters Club will once again be an all-consuming force in their eyes.
I paused a moment before typing, Summer classes can’t start soon enough.
My name is Janine Kishi. If you know my sister Claudia, you must know that my wish for classes to begin is not unusual. You may have heard that I have an IQ of 196. Well, that is the sort of absurd misinformation you receive when Claudia is your source. It is, in fact, 146. I am sixteen, recently earned my Master’s in Computer Science, and plan to take a few extra classes on the subject this summer. Since I can remember, I have been fascinated by computers. While others my age were content with playing somewhat educational computer games, I was intrigued by how they worked. I find the logic of programming fascinating.
My sister doesn’t understand my interests. I know she’s jealous because she struggles in school and her teachers compare her to me, but I won’t apologize for something that’s not my fault. Nor will I apologize for correcting her grammar and spelling; someone has to. No amount of artistic ability will ever compensate for her inability to differentiate between “your” and “you’re,” and her friends do her no favors by allowing her to think otherwise.
Claudia is much closer to our parents, though I don’t know if she fully appreciates that. I suppose I understand how the prodigal son’s responsible brother felt. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not burning with envy. I understand why things are the way they are. She is the one who constantly needs help with her schoolwork so she doesn’t fail, while I have not asked my parents for help since I was ten. She gets at least as much praise for her art as I do for my academic achievements. And of course, I have spent most of my time in classes and studying at the university library, while Claudia has had much more time at home. This does not bother me, however, as much as the fact that Claudia was also much closer to our grandmother, Mimi, before she died last summer. I was always more independent, whereas Claudia was “her Claudia.” After Mimi’s stroke, Claudia volunteered to help take care of her right away. While she was at school or babysitting, Mimi and I would sometimes go for walks or play Scrabble, but just the same, I would have liked more time with her.
Though our relationship has deteriorated in recent years, my sister and I used to get along fairly well. Sitting at my desk, I wondered if she missed that too. I looked at the clock and saw that it was five minutes to six. The girls’ club meeting would soon be over, so I thought perhaps this would be a good time to see.
My sister thinks herself quite clever, hiding junk food in her room. I suppose there is some beneath her bed, in her closet, and in her many drawers, as well as the Nancy Drew books our parents dislike. I, however, disdain such obvious hiding spots. I had a few bars of dark chocolate with fruit and nuts taped to the bottom of my dresser, a bag of caramels buried in the flower pots along my windowsill, and a bag of sour gummy worms floating in the water reservoir of my portable air conditioner. There really was no need; while my parents have expressed concern over the possible effects of the food coloring and additives in the junk food Claudia constantly eats, they have never banned it altogether. Still, I suppose it was a slight thrill to have a secret stash of candy. I found what I believed to be suitable peace offerings and approached Claudia’s door.
As I was about to knock, however, I couldn’t help overhearing them as they made unflattering comparisons between myself and a character on a television show. I am not entirely ignorant of popular culture, and I am vaguely familiar with the program, in which a socially inept anthropologist assists the FBI. I stood frozen for a moment before returning to my room.
I closed the door, replaced the junk food, and sat down once more at my desk, where I thought of my sister and her friends. Kristy is a leader and takes the club she started very seriously, insisting they meet at five-thirty Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Mary Anne is considered sensitive. She does try to diffuse tense situations when they arise and doesn’t intentionally start fights, but she is fourteen, and there are times when it shows. Stacey is very interested in fashion and boys. I suppose that’s normal, and so far, her relationships have been fairly innocent, but honestly, she’s fourteen. What does she think is going to happen? I understand she made a few friends when she first moved here from New York City, but the club has monopolized her time to such an extent that I suppose she is very insecure and somewhat lonely without them. Dawn believes individuality is very important, second only to the environment. Perhaps, but when your supposed individuality negatively impacts another, change may be appreciated. Furthermore, rather than encouraging my sister when she mocks my speech, she might tell her that it does indeed make sense to adjust the amount of clothes one wears before attempting to adjust one’s environment. I must commend her, however, for escaping the club when she had the chance and not backing down in the face of Kristy’s fury. At eleven, Mallory was practically giddy to be accepted by the “big girls,” to which I smiled a tad condescendingly while resisting the urge to pat her on the head while cooing, “Aren’t you adorable?” Since then, she has broadened her horizons at boarding school and now appears more confident on the occasions when she comes home. Jessi is twelve and an aspiring ballerina. I don’t understand her decision to defer her dreams for the club, as she once did.
Don’t get me wrong. They’re all responsible, dedicated babysitters, but they are twelve and fourteen. Sometimes they play favorites with clients and get distracted by their middle school drama. I know they think I’m a loner, with only my books for company. To roll one’s eyes is a puerile expression of disrespect to which I will not lower myself, so I settled for drumming my fingers on my desk. It seems as though every other week my sister and her friends have some argument or another that gets out of hand, and someone always ends up in tears or storming out. One time, shortly after the formation of their club, Claudia wanted to spend more time on her art. Considering her performance in school, I believe art may be her future career and cannot understand why her friends became upset. I suppose she was spending a lot of time with Ashley, but their reaction seemed unwarranted. She holds the position of vice president only because the club meets in her room, uses her phone line, and shares her food. She has no real responsibilities and, while it would be courteous to inform her friends that she could not attend beforehand, it would be no trouble for them if she were to miss a meeting. Personally, I am perfectly content with three good friends.
I was suddenly roused from my musings by a ding from my computer, announcing that my friend Alyssa had sent me a message.
J - Mom and Dad going out for a few hours. Come over?
I sent my reply instantly.
Be there soon.
I met Alyssa about a year ago, when I first began working at a local diner. My parents had decided that, at fifteen, I was too young and too busy with my studies to accept any of the more prestigious job offers I had received. Alyssa and her friends, Lily and Katie, now my friends as well, came by every day, and once when I was on my lunch break, they invited me to sit with them. For as long as I can remember, I have been focused on my studies and never had much time for friends. You may have heard from my sister that I had a boyfriend for a while, but the worst part of that was that we weren’t really friends. We had little in common, and after we broke up, I questioned if I ever really liked him at all. But these girls were so nice, and I learned that Alyssa was absolutely brilliant in math, so we had at least one thing in common. Suddenly, I was desperate for them to like me. When I went home, I would study their music, their clothes – most secondhand, with few popular name brands – and their interests. It took a while for me to understand that I didn’t have to do anything for them to accept me, but when I realized that, it made a big difference.
I put my books away and ran downstairs. I found my mother in the kitchen.
“How was work?” I asked.
“Oh?” She looked up as if surprised by my presence. “Fine. Is Claudia done with her meeting?”
“I believe so, but they’re still upstairs. Do you need any help with dinner?” I asked.
“Oh, no. You can go ahead and study or – whatever,” she finished, recalling suddenly that I’ve graduated.
“Alyssa asked me to come over. Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead.”
At that, I went back to my room to get my backpack and saw that Alyssa had sent another message.
Mrs. Newton needs a sitter for Lucy. Just dropped her off.
She doesn’t want to call the BSC? I thought sardonically.
For the record, I do not dislike children, nor am I completely inept when it comes to caring for a child, though my sister and her friends would likely say otherwise. And personally, I don’t understand why the BSC always complains about some children, like Jenny Prezzioso. She’s so nice and neat all the time. I’m always happy to sit for her.
***
“Mrreow?”
Upon my arrival at Alyssa’s house, I was greeted by her fluffy ginger cat. I simply love it here. I suppose Claudia and her friends might feel differently about this “little, middle of nowhere place” if they knew Alyssa had three younger siblings, not to mention two older brothers. As it is, I don’t believe I am under any obligation to inform them.
As I looked at Alyssa, standing on the porch beside Lucy in her stroller, I couldn’t help smiling at the memory of Claudia’s dismissal of her. If only she knew. Alyssa wore a lavender plaid button-up shirt, a long brown ruffled skirt, and silver ballet flats. I admit I am biased, but I must say that her fashion sense quite rivals Stacey’s. Of course, that is not the only area in which they are rivals.
“He likes you,” I said with a nod, as Sam Thomas drove past.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alyssa said.
“He talked to you yesterday,” I reminded her.
“I imagine he speaks to many people throughout the course of the day. He’s very social.”
I sighed, feigning annoyance. “Yes, but he rarely sustains a conversation for more than five minutes. I would say you are most definitely an exception.”
Our conversation was interrupted suddenly, as Alyssa’s brother Nick entered.
“Hey,” he greeted us. “I’m going to pick up Sarah and Rachel from soccer. Did you want anything from the store?”
“We’re fine, thanks,” Alyssa said.
“You sure? Janine?” he asked, turning to me.
“I’m fine,” I replied.
“Okay,” he said. “Later.”
After he left the room, Alyssa raised her eyebrows and said, “Funny how considerate he is when you’re here.”
I began to protest, but she said, “You didn’t listen when I said he was trying to get your attention when you first started working at the diner. You didn’t listen when I said the only time he comes in is when you’re working there. You didn’t listen when I said he likes you. Are you listening now?”
“Is Lucy wearing sunblock?” I asked. “We should get her inside before she’s exposed to too much sun.”
Alyssa laughed and followed me into the house.
“Hello, girls,” her mother greeted us as we stepped into the living room. “Janine, will you be staying for dinner?”
“I’d love to, thanks,” I said.
After setting Lucy down in a play area for a nap, Alyssa asked, “Want to see what Lily and Katie are doing?”
***
“So, have you told them yet?” Lily asked half an hour later, as we sat on the floor of Alyssa’s room with iced tea and slices of homemade raisin bread, after Mrs. Newton had come to pick Lucy up.
“No, not yet.”
Lily, Alyssa, and Katie sighed dramatically.
“Janine,” Alyssa began.
Alyssa was homeschooled all her life, so you could say she never got the typical high school experience either. What she did get was a better than average education and a higher degree of socialization than most people our age. While our peers were sitting listlessly in class, texting or playing games online, she was interacting with people of all ages and preparing for life in the real world. She just finished high school and now wants to move into a dorm and get “the real college experience,” minus the partying and all that. She suggested, months ago, that I join her so we could room together. Now all that’s left is for me to explain to my parents why I need a second Bachelor’s degree, in English of all things.
“I know, I know. I’m just–”
“What?” she asked. “Waiting for the right time? You’ve been saying that for months.”
“It’s just…Claudia’s grades are worse than ever, and they’re saying she might not graduate. Mom and Dad are counting on me to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t get in trouble with those friends of hers; they don’t even know the half of it. And I did get my driver’s license, and this job, and Mom and Dad expect me to look into doctorate programs, and–”
My voice broke and I buried my face in my hands, breathing deeply, trying and failing to justify my inability to take another step toward adulthood. We were already sitting in a close circle, so it was easy for everyone to join in a group hug. We stayed that way for a minute before Katie spoke.
“Okay, we get it. You’re stressed. Why don’t you take a break?”
“You know,” Alyssa added, “I’ve been thinking of taking a gap year to work and maybe do some traveling. Maybe we both need to take a year off and figure things out.”
With that, it felt as if all the pressure had lifted.
“That sounds perfect,” I said.
We continued talking for some time, and before long, the conversation came to my most recent interaction with Claudia.
“She actually said that to you?” Lily burst out.
I nodded.
“Her exact words were, ‘At least I have friends.’”
“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything, though I know what I wanted to say. Something along the lines of, ‘At least I like my friends.’”
Everyone smiled and nodded approvingly.
“You’re really sticking to your resolution of not saying anything back to her,” Katie said. “Do you think it’s changed anything?”
“I don’t know if she’s noticed, but it does feel better knowing I’m not contributing to the problem anymore. At least, I’m trying.”
“I suppose it’s sad, really, how often she and her supposed friends fight,” Alyssa commented.
We all agreed to that.
“Hey, um, thanks,” I told them.
“For what?” Katie asked.
“Being my friends,” I finished awkwardly.
Of course, this led to another group hug and a toast, which led to us actually making raisin bread toast.
