"Babysitters Club 028 Welcome Back, Stacey!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Babysitters Club)

I'd thought she'd just been saying that, that she hadn't meant it. But now I wasn't so sure. I wouldn't mind an end to the arguing.
But I still didn't want Mom and Dad to get divorced.
I entered my homeroom five minutes after the first bell had rung.
Mrs. Kaufman, my homeroom teacher, looked up at me, smiled, then continued reading the morning announcements.
So one of my parents had called the school. Mrs. Kaufman knew. If she hadn't known, she would have stopped reading the announcements and asked why I was late. She always does that. And if a kid doesn't have a written excuse, she cooks up some sort of punishment. She never just smiles and continues with what she's doing.
I spent that day in a fog. I barely spoke to anyone. And I was constantly dreaming up ways not to have to see my friends. I just couldn't face telling them the news yet. I took different routes to my classes and to my locker. When I had to use the bathroom, I went to this old one on the first floor that's used mostly by teachers. I even hit on a way to avoid Laine in the cafeteria at lunchtime. See, we have sixth period lunch. So at the beginning of fifth period, I asked my science teacher if I could go to the library to work on a project. Then, instead of going to the library, I went to the cafeteria and ate a very fast lunch. As soon as I was done I really did go to the library. I stayed there right through sixth period, holed up at a desk in a remote corner behind shelves of books about sociology.
I did a lot of thinking and absolutely no work. This is what I was thinking:
When Caitlin's parents got divorced, her father moved out and her mother stayed in their apartment.
When Keith's parents got divorced, his father moved out and his mother stayed in their apartment.
And when Shayla's parents got divorced, her father moved out and her mother stayed in their apartment.
Where, I wondered, would Dad go?
Then I thought of something else. I'd heard Mom say the day before that she wanted to leave the city. Had she meant that she wanted our whole family to move, maybe as a way of trying to save the marriage? Or did she still want to move, without Dad? If she moved, would I have to go with her? Did kids ever get to stay with their fathers? Would Dad keep our apartment or find another one?
Other thoughts crowded into my head. I thought of the Trip-Man. The Trip-Man is this awful guy that Dawn Schafer's mother dated a lot. And he wasn't the only man she'd dated since she moved back to Stoneybrook. There was Mary Anne's father, and there were some other men.
What if I were living with my mom and she married someone I hated? I'd have a wicked stepfather. What if he had kids I hated? I'd have wicked stepsisters and stepbrothers.
Suddenly, I felt lost. No one had died or left
me, but I felt as if I were on a lake in a boat and had fallen overboard with no life vest, and didn't know how to swim.
I knew divorce was pretty common. Look at Caitliyn, Keith, and Shayla. Look at all the other kids in my grade whose parents had already gotten divorced. Look at Dawn. Look at Kristy. The divorce rate is fifty percent. I read that somewhere. That means that about half of all couples who get married will eventually get divorced.
And still, I felt embarrassed.
I knew that was why I'd avoided Laine. I was embarrassed - and angry. I couldn't face telling her the awful news yet. Besides, I had too many unanswered questions such as, Where will I live? Whom will I live with? What happens if I wind up with a stepparent I don't like?
I was truly miserable. All I wanted was to turn the clock back twenty-four hours to the day before and let things go on as they'd been going on, fights and all. I decided I would rather have fights than a divorce.
I did not want any changes.
Chapter 7.
Somehow, I managed to avoid Laine all day. It wasn't easy, considering we have the last class of the afternoon together. But I made sure I got to class late (of course, my teacher didn't care), and then when the bell rang, I gathered up my things and raced to Mr. Berlenbach's desk. I pretended I didn't understand what we'd covered in class that day. We got into a long discussion. When it looked like Laine might wait for me, since she was hovering around the door, I waved her on.
Five minutes later, I left Mr. Berlenbach's room and walked toward our apartment building in peace. Well, in as much peace as you can find on busy New York streets. I took my time. I didn't have a baby-sitting job that afternoon, but that didn't mean I had to go right home.
Suddenly an idea came to me. I found some change in my purse, headed for a pay phone, and called home.
Mom answered.
In a rush, I informed her that I was going to spend the afternoon at the library, but that I'd be home for dinner. I didn't give her a chance to say much. She got as far as, "All right, but Stacey - "
And I said, "See you later. 'Bye," and hung up.
Of course I didn't go to the library. Instead I just dawdled around. I walked over to Columbus Avenue and browsed through some of the kitschy stores there. I looked in The Last Wound-Up and in this store that sells big everything - pencils the size of baseball bats, paper clips that an elephant could use, golf balls that look more like beach balls, that sort of thing. I wandered through clothing stores and card stores. I bought a diet soda from a street vendor.
When at last it was near dinnertime, I headed for home. I reached my block and right away I saw Judy. Judy is the street person who lives in our neighborhood - outdoors. She's homeless. She literally lives on the street. When it gets super cold, she goes to a shelter for
awhile, but she always comes back. The people around here sometimes give her money. The restaurant owners and grocery-store owners give her food.
Judy and I have been friends (sort of) ever since Mom and Dad and I moved to this apartment after we left Stoneybrook.
"Hi, Judy," I said listlessly as I approached her.
Judy was sitting right on the cement, surrounded by tattered shopping bags full of ... I don't know what. It always looked like trash to me. But I knew the things were Judy's personal treasures.
Judy was wearing about seventeen layers of clothes, and was rubbing lotion onto her poor chapped hands and face. I wondered where she'd gotten it.
"Hi, Missy," replied Judy cheerfully. (Missy is what she calls me when she's in a good mood. When she's in a bad mood, she won't answer. Or else she screams out senseless things for hours.)
I looked in my book bag to see if I had anything Judy might want. I handed her a pencil and after several moments, Judy selected a particular shopping bag and poked it inside.
"Thanks," she said when she was finished. "How are you today, Missy?"
"My parents are getting a divorce," I told her.
"Crying shame."
I couldn't tell just what Judy meant by that. Was she being sarcastic?
"That's what's wrong with the world today," Judy went on, sounding wise. "Too much divorce. Too much thieving and pillaging, too. End of civilization."
Whoa. Time to go.
" 'Bye, Judy," I said. "See you tomorrow."
I walked into my building, sailed up to the 12th floor, and crept down our hallway as if I were approaching a firing squad.
It was almost six o'clock. I entered our apartment and, just like the night before, found both of my parents sitting in the living room.
"Hi, Stacey," said Dad at the same time that Mom said, "Hello, honey."
I ignored them and headed for my bedroom. But to my surprise, the door was closed. A sign had been taped to it. It read: DO NOT
ENTER. GO BACK TO THE LIVING ROOM AND TALK TO YOUR PARENTS.
With a huge sigh, I dropped my book bag and purse on the floor in the hallway and