I didn’t see Ashley again that day, but no wonder. There were only two periods left, and I had a remedial math class (that’s math for kids who have a tough time with it) and a help session in the Resource Room. No way a smart kid like Ashley would have either remedial math or time in the Resource Room.

I was a little disappointed at not seeing Ashley again, but I had a meeting of the Baby-sitters Club to go to that afternoon, and I always look forward to meetings. Remember I mentioned my friend Dawn? Dawn Schafer is the one whose hair is longer and blonder than Ashley’s. Well, she’s in the club, too, and so are my other friends, Kristy Thomas, Mary Anne Spier, and Stacey McGill. The club is really fun. We meet three times a week, and people here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut, call us when they need baby-sitters. We get lots of jobs and I earn lots of money, which is important, because I need it to buy art supplies and makeup and jewelry and stuff.

As you can probably see, the club is really a little business. It’s a year old now, and we run it very professionally. Here’s how it works: We meet in my room on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons from five-thirty till six. (We use my room because I have my own private phone and phone number. For that reason, I get to be vice president of the club.) Our clients know they can call us at our meeting times. Then they tell us when they need sitters and one of us signs up for each job. With five of us here, our clients almost always find a sitter with just one phone call, and they really like that. You’re probably wondering what happens if two or three of us are able to take the same job. Who gets it? Well, luckily, we’re busy enough so that doesn’t happen very often. When it does, we’re pretty nice about saying things like, “Well, I’ve got two other jobs signed up that week. You take it, Stacey,” or, “David Michael is your little brother, Kristy. You take the job.”

Mary Anne, our club secretary, keeps track of all our jobs in the appointment pages of our club record book. In fact, she’s responsible for the whole record book (except for the account of how much money we earn). The record book is where we note the addresses and phone numbers of our clients, information on the kids, our job appointments, and other commitments, like art classes.

Stacey’s our treasurer, so she keeps track of the money we earn, as well as the money in our treasury, which comes from the dues we pay each week. Our dues money goes for club expenses. For instance, we pay Kristy’s big brother Charlie to drive her to and from each meeting. This is only fair, since Kristy, our president, started the club but had to move out of our neighborhood over the summer. We also use the treasury money to buy coloring books and stuff for the Kid-Kits. (Kid-Kits are something Kristy thought up. They’re cardboard cartons filled with our old books, games, and toys, plus activity books and crayons and other things we buy, which we sometimes take with us when we go on a baby-sitting job. Whenever one of us brings a Kid-Kit, we’re a huge hit.)

Here are some other things you should know about the club: Dawn is our alternate officer, which means she’s like a substitute teacher. She can take over the job of any other member who has to miss a meeting. We also have two associate members, Logan Bruno and Shannon Kilbourne. They’re sitters we can call on in a pinch if a job comes in that none of us can take. (Luckily, that doesn’t happen very often.) Last thing — aside from the club record book, we keep a notebook. Kristy insists on this. In the notebook, we write up every single job we go on, and then we’re responsible for reading the other entries about once a week. That way, we know what went on when our friends were sitting, which is often very helpful. (But — do you want my honest opinion? Reading that notebook every week can be a total bore.)

When school was over on the day I met Ashley Wyeth, I ran right home and did what was left of my homework (a lot of it had gotten done in the Resource Room), and then I took a look at Mixed-up Files. It really was time I read it, especially if Mrs. Hall was going to give us “checks” on it every now and then.

I read until 5:15. The story wasn’t bad. After all, there was a girl named Claudia in it. Furthermore, this Claudia felt that she was a victim of injustice. When I looked up “injustice” and found out what it meant, I was pretty interested. I often think things in my life are unjust, particularly where school or my genius sister Janine is concerned.

At 5:15, I went downstairs to find my grandmother Mimi and wait for the members of the Baby-sitters Club to come over.

Mimi was in the kitchen, starting supper. She had a stroke last summer but is much better now except for two things. She can only use her left hand (she used to be right-handed), and she still has a little trouble with her speech — but not much, considering that Japanese, not English, is her native language. Anyway, she likes to feel useful, so she insists on starting dinner every weekday afternoon while my parents are at work, and doing whatever housework she can manage.

“Ah. Hello, my Claudia,” Mimi greeted me when I entered the kitchen. “You have been study hard?”

“I guess so,” I replied. “I’m reading this book. Some of the words are pretty big, but I like it. It’s funny.”

“How about having special tea?” asked Mimi.

“Oh, I can’t. I mean, I don’t have time. We have a club meeting. Everyone’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

“Ah. Yes. I see.” (That’s what Mimi always says these days when she wants to say something else, but the right words won’t come.)

“Mimi,” I began, pulling a cutting board toward me and starting to peel carrots for the salad, “there’s a new girl in school. She’s in my English class. Her name is Ashley Wyeth, and she likes art just like I do. We only talked for a couple of minutes today, but I think maybe we’re going to be friends. Isn’t that funny?”

“It happens that way sometimes. Happen when I meet your grandfather. In one second I know … knew … we would fall in love, be married, have children.”

“Really?” I said. I was awed. What a second that must have been. I guess you need those seconds to make up for all the dull ones when you’re just watching flies land on people’s heads.

The doorbell rang then and I ran to answer it. It was probably Kristy. She often arrives either early or late since she’s at the mercy of Charlie’s schedule.

Sure enough, it was Kristy. She let herself in even before I’d answered the door.

“Hi, Claudia!” she cried. She looked like she was in a really good mood, but I wished for the thirty-nine thousandth time that she’d do something about her clothes and hair. Kristy is really cute, but she never bothers to make herself look special. All fall she’s been wearing the same kind of outfit — jeans, a turtleneck, a sweater, and sneakers. And she hasn’t been doing a thing to her long (well, longish) brown hair except brushing it. Here’s an example of one of the big differences between Kristy and me. I was wearing a very short pink cotton dress, white tights, and black ballet slippers. I had swept all of my hair way over to one side, where it was held in place with a piece of pink cloth that matched the dress. Only one ear showed, and in it I had put my big palm tree earring. (Kristy was not wearing any jewelry.)

We are so different, it is amazing.

Dawn, Mary Anne, and Stacey arrived a few minutes later. Actually, as you might guess, we are all different — but some of us are more different than others. Stacey is kind of like me. She wears trendy clothes and is always getting her hair styled or permed or something, but she’s not as outrageous as I can be. I did notice that day, though, that she had painted her fingernails yellow and then put black polka dots all over them.

Mary Anne, who is quiet and shy, dresses more like Kristy (who’s a loudmouth). But Mary Anne is beginning to pay some attention to what she wears. Dawn falls in between Stacey and me, and Kristy and Mary Anne. She’s just an individual. She’s originally from California and tends to dress casually, but with flair.

The five of us went upstairs to my room and closed the door. I found a bag of Doritos in my stash of junk food and passed it around, while Kristy took her seat in my director’s chair and Mary Anne opened the record book so she’d be ready with our appointment calendar when the first call came in.

While we ate the Doritos and waited for the phone to ring, I said, “Did any of you see that new girl? Ashley Wyeth?”

The others shook their heads. But nobody made any snide comments about new girls. That’s because Stacey and Dawn were both new girls themselves not too far back. (Stacey’s from New York City. She moved to Stoneybrook about a year ago, which was about six months before Dawn moved here from California.)

Ring, ring! We all leaped for the phone. That usually happens with the first call of the meeting. Kristy got it, though.

“Hello, Baby-sitters Club,” she said in her most adult voice. “Hi, Mrs. Rodowsky … Thursday? That’s short notice, but I’ll check and call you right back, okay? Bye.”

“Mrs. Rodowsky?” I said, groaning, as Kristy hung up the phone. The Rodowskys have three boys, and one of them, Jackie, is completely accident-prone. The only thing that ever happens when you sit at the Rodowskys’ is that Jackie falls off things, on things, or into things. Sometimes he gets caught in things or breaks things or loses things. He’s a nice little kid, but sheesh.

Mary Anne began to giggle. “Hey, guess what, Claud?” she said. “You’re the only one who’s free that day.”

“Oh, no!” I clapped my hand to my forehead as Kristy picked up the phone to call Mrs. Rodowsky back. But I didn’t mind as much as I let on. I’ve sat for Jackie and his brothers a few times now, and Jackie’s beginning to grow on me.

The meeting continued. Calls came in, we got jobs. It was your average meeting. Pretty uneventful.

I loved every second of it.

The Baby-sitters Club is very important to me. It’s almost as important to me as art is. I don’t know what I’d do without the club — or my friends.