Free Claudia and the New Girl by Ann M. Martin Page B

and Mary Anne answered the door! For some reason, I just hadn't expected another club member to be there. I don't know why.
    "Claudia!" exclaimed Mary Anne when she saw me on the stoop. The faintest of frowns flickered across her forehead.
    "Oh ..." I said. I was almost speechless. "Urn, hi."
    "Are you supposed to be sitting?" Mary Anne asked, looking confused.
    "Oh, no," I replied. I held out my sketch pad. "I wanted to sketch Jackie. I mean, I want
    to sculpt him, but I have to sketch him first. Oh, and I have to ask if he can do it."
    "We-ell," said Mary Anne slowly. "Mrs. Rodowsky isn't here, of course, but why don't you ask Jackie? He's here." Mary Anne sounded a little frazzled.
    "Is it one of his bad days?" I asked.
    "You could say so. He didn't mean to exactly, but he knocked over a ten-pound bag of dog chow, and then got nail polish all over a pair of socks."
    "Gosh, what is it with socks, anyway?" I wondered out loud. .     "What?"
    "Never mind. It's a long story. How did he get nail polish on his socks?"
    "That's a long story, too. Why don't you come on in?"
    I stepped inside and was greeted by an excited Jackie. "Hi!" he exclaimed. "I'm the only kid here today. Shea's at his piano lesson and Archie's at his tumbling class."
    "Don't you like to take lessons?" I asked Jackie.
    "Yeah, but I break too many things. Mrs. Schiavone said so."
    "Who's Mrs. Schiavone?" Mary Anne and I asked at the same time. We glanced at each
    other and I could tell she was debating whether to hook my pinkie and say "jinx." I knew because I was wondering the same thing. But we didn't do it.
    "Mrs. Schiavone's the piano teacher," Jackie replied. "She lets Shea come to her house because he didn't break her metronome. Or her umbrella. Or her doorbell."
    "How did you break her doorbell?" Mary Anne wanted to know.
    Jackie frowned. "I'm not sure. But it's broken all right. It used to play 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow.' Now it just goes 'boing, boing, bonk.' "
    I tried hard not to giggle. Jackie wasn't laughing and he gets upset about his accidents sometimes — because they really are just accidents. Mary Anne hid her smile, too.
    "Jackie/' Mary Anne said when the laughing danger was past, "Claudia came over because she wants to ask you something."
    "What?" replied Jackie.
    He plopped down on the couch and I sat next to him. I explained about the sculpture and the sketches and the art show.
    "You want to make a statue of me?!" he exclaimed finally.
    I couldn't even look at Mary Anne then.
    "Well, yes. Sort of. Except that I'm not going to sculpt all of you. Just your head."
    "Sculpt my head?" he repeated. "Will it hurt?"
    "Not a bit. I won't even touch you."
    "And I'll be in a show? Where everyone will see me?"
    "Yup."
    "Oh, boy! Oh, boy!" was all Jackie could say.
    "Do you want to start now?" I asked him. "I need to make some drawings of you."
    "Is it okay?" Jackie asked Mary Anne.
    "Fine with me," she replied.
    I posed Jackie at one end of the couch, settled myself at the other, and began sketching. At first, Jackie sat almost motionlessly. He didn't smile, didn't even blink his eyes.
    "Jack-o, you can relax a little," I told him. "You can even move around if you want. I mean, don't stand up, but — "
    "How about if I get him a coloring book?" suggested Mary Anne.
    "Oh, great," I replied.
    While Jackie was coloring and I was sketching, Mary Anne sat in an easy chair. At first she just watched. Then, after what seemed like a very long time, she said, "So, um, how's Ashley?"
    I shrugged. "Okay, I guess."
    Mary Anne gathered up her courage to ask me an important question. I can always tell when she's doing that. Gathering her courage, I mean. She starts to fidget, then she starts breathing heavily, then she's silent for a few moments, and finally she clears her throat. "Ahem."
    "Yes?" I replied.
    "Claudia, I was wondering. Is Ashley your, um, best friend now?"
    "She most certainly is not."
    "She isn't?"
    "No way."
    "But I thought — "
    "I