Claudia and the New Girl (11 page)

Kristy was saying, "You know the smell of sneakers after gym class? And you know the smell of Cuthbert Athlete's Foot Creme? Well, if you mixed those smells together, wouldn't they smell just like this pot roast?" and Mary

Anne was practically gagging, when I glanced up and saw Ashley walk by our table with her tray. She was alone as usual, looking for a place to sit.

I'm not sure what got into me, but I jumped up and ran to her. I touched her arm. "Ashley?"

"Yes?" she replied, turning around. "Oh . . . Claudia."

"Um, I was wondering. Do you have someplace to sit? I mean, would you like to sit with my friends and me?"

"With you?" Ashley glanced at the members of the Baby-sitters Club who were, of course, watching us curiously. "Well ..."

"Oh, come on," I said. I knew perfectly well that Ashley and I would never be best friends. And I knew she would never understand my interest in baby-sitting. I would never understand how she could think only of art. But we did have things in common. I felt that we could be friendly. I wanted to give it a try, at least.

I pulled Ashley over to our table. "Go ahead. Sit down," I said.

Ashley did, somewhat reluctantly.

Kristy scowled at me, and I knew why. Ashley looked just plain weird in her outfit — a long knitted vest over an even longer shirt which she was wearing tails-out over a skirt

that didn't match either the vest or the skirt. And there were those hiking boots again.

But the first thing Ashley did when she sat down was sniff at her lunch and say, "You know what this meat smells like?"

"Old sneakers and athlete's foot creme?" suggested Kristy.

"Well, I was going to say turpentine, rubber cement, and acrylic paint," replied Ashley. "I guess that's pretty much the same."

Kristy grinned. "Yeah, I guess so."

And then we began to laugh. All of us. Afterward, Ashley and I got into a discussion about sculpture, and my friends listened. Then my friends and I got into a discussion about baby-sitting for kids who don't like babysitters, and Ashley listened.

When lunch was over, we left the cafeteria together.

After that day, Ashley sometimes sat with us but often sat alone. Either way, it was okay. She and I had become sometimes friends, and that was okay, too. Like Jackie Rodowsky's accidents, those things just happened —sometimes.

About the Author

ANN M. MARTIN did a lot of baby-sitting when she was growing up in Princeton, New Jersey. Now her favorite baby-sitting charge is her cat, Mouse, who lives with her in her Manhattan apartment.

Ann Martin's Apple Paperbacks are Bummer Summer, Inside Out, Stage Fright, Me and Katie (the Pest), and all the other books in the Babysitters Club series.

She is a former editor of books for children, and was graduated from Smith College. She likes ice cream, the beach, and I Love Lucy; and she hates to cook.