Baby-Sitters Club 041

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Baby-Sitters Club 041 Page 8

by Ann M. Martin


  Logan wanted me to be "Logan's girl," and I didn't want to be anybody's girl. Ever. I may not be as independent as my sister, but I have rights and feelings like anyone else.

  I did not want to be owned.

  By the time I reached our house, I had made a decision.

  First, I went to my room. I opened my jewelry box, removed something from it, and slipped it into my pocket.

  Then I telephoned Logan.

  "Hi," I said when he picked up the phone. "It's me." "Hi, you!" "Logan, I have to talk to you. Now. Can we meet in the park?" "It's late, Mary Anne. It's getting dark out. Why do you have to meet me somewhere? Can't we just talk? Or can't we see each other in school tomorrow? I'm not - " "No," I interrupted.

  "Mary Anne." ' "Logan, when you call me on the spur of the moment and want me to go out, I usually do it. Now I'm asking you to do the same thing for me." I paused. Then I went on, "We'll meet at the bench by the skating pond." "Oh, okay! Remember that snowy afternoon in the park? That was great, wasn't it?" "Yeah. But Logan, you don't need to bring your skates. I can't stay out very long." "Me, neither," replied Logan agreeably. "See you in a few minutes." We hung up the phone.

  "Dawn!" I called. (She was in her room, studying.) "I'm going to meet Logan in the park now." "Now?" "Yeah. I know it's late, but I only have to see him for a few minutes. I'll be back before six o'clock." "You shouldn't let Logan push you around like this," was Dawn's reply.

  I almost told her that / was doing the pushing, but I didn't have time. Besides, by this evening I'd probably have a lot more to tell her, so I just yelled, "Later!" Then I put on my parka and mittens and ran out the door and all the way to the park.

  The park looked very different than it had a few weeks earlier. The snow was gone. Scrubby brown grass showed in its place. The tree branches were bare, dark against the late afternoon sky. No snow outlined them, turning them into fairy trees. Only a few people were still enjoying the park; the children had left.

  And yet just seeing the park brought back all sorts of memories. It brought back good times that Logan and I had shared there. And those memories led to other memories.

  I pictured Logan and me wearing cat costumes to the Halloween Hop.

  I pictured us on a joint baby-sitting job for Jackie Rodowsky. That was before Logan and I were boyfriend and girlfriend.

  I remembered the first time I had spotted Logan in school, when he was the new boy - and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I could not believe what I was going to do.

  When I reached the bench it was empty.

  I sat down and waited.

  Logan was not likely to be late.

  And he wasn't. I'd been sitting alone for less than a minute when I heard him call, "Hi, Mary Anne!" He was loping toward me, jogging through the park. Smiling.

  Oh, I thought. What am I doing? What am I going to do to Logan? What am I going to do to us?

  But my mind was made up.

  Logan sank down next to me. He tilted my chin toward him so we could kiss, but I pulled away.

  "What's wrong?" asked Logan. "Here we are in the park. Don't - " I put my hand over Logan's mouth to make him stop talking. It was Logan's turn to pull away. But then he leaned toward me and tried to kiss me again. Why wasn't he getting the message?

  Oh.

  Because I wasn't talking. I thought my actions were enough, but maybe not. After all, Logan couldn't read my thoughts.

  "Logan . . . Logan?" I began.

  "Yes? Yes?" Logan laughed at his joke.

  "Logan, this is serious," I said. (Logan's smile vanished.) "Remember how I said we needed to cool our relationship?" "Of course," answered Logan. "And we did." "No. J did. You never took it seriously." "I did too!" exclaimed Logan indignantly.

  "But then you decided to start things up again, without asking me." "I don't have to ask your permission for everything." "No, but you need to listen to me. And understand me. I don't feel like you do either of those things anymore. You haven't for a long time." I could feel my hands growing clammy in my mittens, but I was determined to say what I'd planned to say. "I was the one who asked to cool our relationship for awhile, and you agreed. Don't you think it would have been courteous to consult me when you felt we were ready to start seeing more of each other?" "Courteous?" repeated Logan. "Who are you? Miss Manners?" "No, I'm Mary Anne Spier and I am a person. An independent person who likes to think for herself and have some freedom." (I was shaking; wondering just how independent I was - or wanted to be.) "What exactly are you saying, Mary Anne?" "I want to break up with you," I replied. I didn't even hesitate before I said it.

  "You what?" "I want to break up with you. It's time to do that. This relationship isn't going anywhere. I don't know about you, but I'm not happy." "Mary Anne - " Logan stopped talking when I stood up, took off one mitten, and reached into my pocket. From it, I pulled the heart bracelet that Logan had given me on Valentine's Day. Then I reached for Logan's hand, dropped the bracelet into it, and closed his fingers around the linked hearts.

  "I can't keep this," I told him.

  "You're serious, aren't you?" said Logan.

  "Yes," I replied softly.

  Logan opened his hand. He looked at the bracelet coiled in it. Then he looked back at me. "I guess this means we're - we're not - " Logan had to stop speaking because his voice had choked up. (I was choked up, too.) "Good-bye, Logan," I said.

  "Good-bye, Mary Anne." 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 include Yours Turly, Shirley; Ten Kids, No Pets; With You and Without You; Bummer Summer; and all the other books in the Baby-sitters 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.

  Table of Contents

  BSC041 - Mary Anne vs. Logan

  About this Title

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