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

OUT.
    Yes, she had truly passed out. And it wasn’t until I had cried (softly),
    “Maggie, she’s passed out!” that Jil finally understood that Sunny had gotten…
    “Drunk? She’s drunk?” squeaked Jil . “That’s why she was throwing up?
    Because she got drunk? And now she’s passed out?” Jil was wringing her
    hands.
    “You just let them sleep, I guess,” I said.
    “No, no. It’s more dangerous than that,” said Maggie.
    Maggie and Jill and I stared down at Sunny, who was stil sprawled on the
    bed. We had tried calling to her and shaking her, but she wouldn’t move or wake
    up. She seemed to be breathing all right, though. We didn’t know what else to do,
    so we decided we would just let her sleep until the morning.
    “Let’s take some of her clothes off, though,” said Maggie. “We’l never get
    her into her nightshirt, but let’s take off her shoes and her jeans. She’ll be more comfortable.”
    So that’s what we did. Then we rolled her on her side and put a trash can
    by the bed in case of nighttime barfing. And then we had another tiff with Jil , who didn’t want Sunny to sleep on her bed at al . But when we tried to move Sunny,
    we found that we couldn’t do it easily (or quietly), so she got to sleep on the bed after all.
    Then I lay awake worrying about the police. So, it turns out, did Jill and
    Maggie. And then I had finally fal en asleep when I heard a cheerful voice say,
    “Time to get up, sleepyheads. I fixed you a big breakfast!”
    It was Jill’s sister, Liz.
    I looked at my watch. Eight o’clock.
    Eight o’clock? On a Sunday morning? On this Sunday morning? When I
    had gotten, like, two and a half hours of sleep?
    Before I could take this is, Mrs. Henderson bustled cheerfully into the
    room and snapped up the window shades.
    “Rise and shine, girls!” she said. “Sunny, what are you doing sleeping in
    your clothes?” At that moment the tea kettle whistled shrilly from downstairs, and Mrs. Henderson hurried out of the room, leaving a cloud of perfume behind her.
    “Oh, oh.” Sunny was moaning loudly on the ed. “Oh, my God. The light!
    The noise! That smel . Oh…ew…”
    Jil ’s head snapped up. “Sunny, are you going to barf?”
    “I don’t know. Someone pull the shades down. Make that smel go away.”
    Luckily, the tea kettle had stopped whistling.
    Jil eyed her through a curtain of tangled hair. “You’re hungover, aren’t
    you.” She said. “Tsk. Disgusting.”
    That morning was every bit as awful as I could possibly imagine. Maggie
    and Jill and I weren’t hungover, of course, but we were exhausted. And Jil was
    still mad at s, and we were still mad at her. Sunny was a different story. Her head was pounding. She said she had the worst headache she’d ever had in her life.
    Light bothered her. Noise bothered her. And smells made her sick to her
    stomach.
    So Liz’ s big breakfast was torture for her. The kitchen was lit by sunshine
    and large fluorescent lights. Liz banged pots. The kettle whistled again. Timers
    buzzed and rang. And the air smel ed of bacon, frying butter, coffee, and Mrs.
    Henderson’s gardenia perfume.
    I thought Sunny was going to pass out again right at the table. Somehow
    she managed not to, and not to barf. But she couldn’t make it through breakfast.
    She had to tell Mrs. Henderson that she couldn’t eat because she just isn’t a
    morning person, which certainly looked believable, and then she returned to Jill’s bed.
    The morning passed. Sunny seemed to feel better. By eleven o’clock, she
    said her headache was going away. Which was good since it was time for Ducky
    to pick us up and take us back to the scene of the party.
    “I can’t go with you,” said Maggie. “Unfortunately, I have to go to some
    charity event with Mom and Dad today. One of those huge parties with tons of
    celebrities at which Dad will probably hustle around making deals, and Mom will
    be so wrapped up in what everyone’s wearing she’ll