“Wait a minute.” Mr. Braddock stopped us. “If you were on and off the phone that fast, when did Claudia have time to get on the other extension? The way you show it, you were off before she could even have walked upstairs.”
“Okay, so I talked a little longer than that,” Haley admitted sullenly.
“After the call, you were up in your room,” Mary Anne said. “What were you doing up there?”
“Homework,” Haley replied.
“If you were doing homework, then why did you show me last month’s report?” I asked. “Why didn’t you bring me the right one?”
Tears sprang to Haley’s eyes. “Because I hadn’t finished the book!” she shouted as tears streamed down her face. “It was too hard and I didn’t understand what it was trying to say!” Crying hard, she pushed past me and ran up the stairs.
“Haley!” Mrs. Braddock called, but Haley didn’t stop.
That’s when it came to me — an idea about what had happened to Haley.
“Can I go talk to her?” I asked the Braddocks.
Mr. and Mrs. Braddock looked at each other. “All right,” Mrs. Braddock said.
I hurried up the stairs and into Haley’s room. She sat on her bed, sobbing into her hands. “What’s freaking you out about school?” I asked as soon as I stepped through the doorway.
“Everything!” she shouted tearfully. “I can’t do the work. I didn’t used to be stupid, but this year I am. I don’t know why.”
“You’re not stupid!” I said. But I sure knew how she felt. Once schoolwork starts to get the better of you, it feels as if you’ll never get it under control again. I had certainly experienced that feeling … many times.
Haley turned away from me. “You don’t know how it is, Claudia.”
I laughed. “Don’t I? Schoolwork is the biggest problem I have in my entire life. I struggle with it all the time. Haley, they put me back a grade for a while.”
That caught her attention. She turned to me. “They did?”
“Yes.”
“Wow,” she said. “Didn’t you hate that?”
“At first. But it turned out to be a good thing. It helped me get back on track with school.”
Haley wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “We’re reading this book, A Wrinkle in Time, in school. Everyone else in the class thinks it’s so great. But I don’t have any idea what’s going on.”
“Maybe you should ask someone to explain it to you,” I suggested.
She shook her head. “They’d know I was dumb then.”
“Even Vanessa?” I asked.
“She’s a brain. I don’t want her to know.”
“Is it just this one book that’s giving you trouble?”
“No,” Haley replied. “We’re doing fractions, which make no sense to me. How can two thirds be the same as four sixths? Does that make any sense?”
It hadn’t made sense to me in fourth grade either, although I understood the idea behind equivalent fractions now. (Probably because Stacey had explained it to me about a thousand times.)
Mr. Braddock came to the door. He knocked and walked in. “How’s it going in here?”
I was about to say, “The problem turns out to be schoolwork,” but I caught myself just in time. I didn’t want to seem like a snitch again.
“Did I hear something about school?” Mr. Braddock asked.
Haley nodded and told him what she’d told me, only more calmly. Her father listened, then nodded. “When I was in fourth grade I was so bad at multiplication that I had the times tables written up my arms, on my ankles, on my elbows. My parents wondered why I never wanted to take a bath. It was because then I’d have to rewrite all those equations again. But you know what? After every bath, I became a little better at multiplication.”
That set Haley off into gales of laughter. “Dad, you are so strange,” she said.
“It’s true,” he insisted, laughing too. “Every time I rewrote those tables, I learned them a little better.”
“Maybe I should try that with fractions,” Haley said. “It’s easier than lying.”
“How did the lying get started?” Mr. Braddock asked. I was glad he got to the point. It still wasn’t clear to me exactly how the lying fit into the school problem.
“Well,” Haley began, “I lied to my teacher about why I didn’t have my homework and she believed me. All day I was worried about getting into trouble, but then it didn’t happen because I told a lie. Lying suddenly seemed like a pretty good idea.”
“So then you tried it again with me?” I guessed.
Haley nodded. “It didn’t work that time. But I lied the next day in school about why I didn’t have the report — I said the computer conked out — and I got away with it again.”
“So that made it seem like a solution to all your problems?” Mr. Braddock asked.
“In a way,” Haley agreed. “It seemed like everything could be solved by lying.”
I saw how it all fit together. Haley had been mad at me, so she saw a way to get instant revenge — by lying. Lying must have made her feel powerful.
Mrs. Braddock came in. Her husband turned to her. “I think we need to get Haley some tutoring so she doesn’t have to resort to lying as the ultimate secret weapon.”
“Is that what’s been happening?” Mrs. Braddock asked. Haley nodded. Mrs. Braddock sat beside her daughter and put her arm around her. “That doesn’t excuse it, though,” she said gently. “You know what you’ve been doing is wrong, don’t you?”
“Sorry,” Haley muttered.
“And perhaps you owe Claudia an apology,” Mrs. Braddock added.
“Oh, it’s okay,” I jumped in.
Mrs. Braddock put her hand up to stop me. “Haley,” she prompted.
“Sorry, Claudia,” Haley said.
“No problem.” I accepted Haley’s apology, but I wasn’t sure if she was sincere or simply doing the easiest thing at the moment. I wanted to believe she meant it. I hoped the lying alien life-form that had taken her over was now winging its way back to its home planet.
But only time would tell if Haley was ready to start being honest again.
Kristy was incredibly excited about the scrimmage. She was in constant motion. “Their team is kind of short,” she said to Stacey as she checked out Franklin Township on the far side of the gym. “Don’t you think our girls are taller, mostly?”
Stacey nodded. “It looks that way.”
Kristy frowned. “But if they’re better players, height won’t matter. The Franklin Township team might be fast and good with the ball. Sometimes short kids can really run.”
“Don’t worry so much,” said Stacey. “It’s just a game.”
“But a game’s no fun if you don’t play to win.”
The GSBA members were thrilled to be wearing their uniforms for the first time. But they didn’t look exactly as Kristy had pictured them. (When she told me this, I just nodded and smiled.)
Kristy glanced into the bleachers and saw the Ramseys, her own parents, Dr. Johanssen, and several other parents she recognized. Someone tapped her on her shoulder and she turned.
“Hi,” Haley said a little shyly.
“You’re here!” Kristy hadn’t been sure if Haley’s punishment would be lifted in time for the game.
“Can I play?” Haley asked.
“I don’t know. You haven’t practiced as much as the other girls,” Kristy replied. Still, she knew Haley was a pretty good player. “I’m not going to start you,” she said after a moment’s thought. “But if things are going well, I’ll put you in.”
“Okay,” Haley agreed.
When it was time to begin, Kristy sent out her starting players. Vanessa jumped for the opening ball.
“Okay!” Kristy and Stacey shouted in unison as Vanessa took control of the basketball and steamed downcourt with it.
“Go, Vanessa, go!” Stacey screamed.
“Yesss!” Kristy cheered as, within seconds, Vanessa sunk the first ba
sket of the game.
By the halfway mark, the GSBA had a six-point lead over Franklin Township. Kristy turned to Haley, who sat with several other teammates on folding chairs at the sideline. “Haley, you replace Becca. Charlotte, you replace Sara. And Karen, you take Diana’s place.” She wanted all the girls to play, and with a lead, she felt she could put in her second-string players.
She watched, anxiously chewing on her lower lip, as the second half of the game began.
“I’m not sure that was such a great idea,” Kristy said to Stacey several minutes into the second half of the game. Franklin Township had taken control of the ball and kept it for the last three minutes, sinking two baskets. The GSBA was down to a two-point lead.
“It’s more important that the girls get to play,” Stacey remarked. “You did the right thing.”
“Maybe,” Kristy said, not sounding too certain. “Uh-oh,” she said. She’d spotted Haley pushing into a Franklin Township girl while guarding her. The ref saw it at the same time and blasted her whistle.
Haley began arguing.
“I hope she’s not trying to lie her way out of this,” Stacey remarked.
“I’d better get out there,” Kristy said as she hurried onto the court.
“I didn’t touch her.” Haley was disagreeing with the ref when Kristy arrived.
“I’m sorry, young lady, but I saw you,” the ref replied.
Haley noticed Kristy, and their eyes met. Kristy couldn’t believe it. After everything Haley had said the evening before, she was lying again.
Haley must have read Kristy’s disappointed expression. “Maybe I did push her,” she said. “I didn’t mean to, but I might have accidentally nudged her.”
Kristy smiled at her. Even though the foul would cost the GSBA, it was more important that Haley had admitted the truth. She shot Haley a thumbs-up.
The free throws that the Franklin Township team won from Haley’s foul tied up the score. Kristy called a time-out and rearranged the players again. “Want me to sit?” Haley asked.
Kristy shook her head. “No, you’re playing well. Just be more careful while you’re guarding. Stand back a little more.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
In the end, the GSBA won by two points. And it was Haley who sunk the winning basket. “Considering it was your first game as a team, you were excellent,” Kristy congratulated them. “I saw some things we’re going to work on. But mostly you girls rocked.”
They cheered, pumping their fists in the air, and jumped up and down, hugging one another.
“I’ll see you all at practice on Tuesday,” she called to them as their group broke up and headed in various directions.
Haley ran toward her parents, who stood waiting by the door. Halfway there, she turned and hurried back toward Kristy and Stacey. “Did you forget something?” Kristy asked.
“Yeah,” Haley said. “I forgot to say thanks for letting me play.” She looked down at her hands. “I know I’ve been a pain lately. So … thanks.”
Kristy punched her arm lightly. “No problem. Keep playing like you did today and I’ll start you next time.”
Haley smiled up at her. “I will.” With a wave, she ran back toward her parents.
“Wow, the old Haley has returned,” Stacey said.
“I know,” Kristy agreed. “There may be hope for that kid yet.”
On Sunday afternoon the weather was beautiful. It was windy, the kind of wind that makes your hair fly around like crazy. But it was warm and sunny — one of those days that lets you believe spring really will come soon.
Josh showed up at my house for our friendship date holding a khaki-green canvas bag. “What’s that?” I asked as I opened the door and stepped out. “Kites?”
“Boats.”
“Excuse me?”
He pulled open the drawstring mouth of the bag and I peered inside. “Are those toy sailboats?” I asked.
He nodded. “They were in my garage. I’d forgotten all about them. I was trying to find some old kites but I found these instead. I thought we could sail them in the pond at Miller’s Park.”
A blast of wind wrapped my hair around my face. “Good idea,” I said, from behind my hair. “It’s sure windy enough.”
Miller’s Park is on the outskirts of Stoneybrook. It’s a good twenty-five-minute walk from my house. We didn’t mind, though.
For the first time in a while, talk flowed easily between us. We chatted about school and people. I told him about my role-play with Haley the day before.
“That took guts,” he commented. “A lot of kids couldn’t deal with a confrontation like that. I bet some adults couldn’t either.”
“I was nervous,” I admitted. “But facing it turned out to be the right thing.”
“Just like with us,” he commented.
I nodded, feeling awkward. “Yeah,” I agreed.
We arrived at Miller’s Park and walked along the rushing stream. On one bank stood an abandoned sawmill with a real waterwheel on the outside. In a patch of bright sun, I spotted a cluster of daffodils with fat buds just about to pop.
We followed the stream to a pond. “I never even knew this pond was here,” I told Josh, although I’d been to the park a number of times.
“It’s nice, isn’t it? This pond must have an underground spring that feeds it and the stream,” he said as he took the boats from the bag. Each was about two feet long and just as high. The one he handed me had two red sails, while his had three white ones.
We put the boats in the pond and watched as the wind filled their sails. Off they sped, tilting to one side as they went along.
“How are we going to get them back?” I asked.
“By keeping our fingers crossed,” he replied.
“You’re kidding.”
“Sort of. They usually hit the shore eventually.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon running along the edge of the pond like lunatics, trying to keep up with the boats.
I screamed, then laughed, then screamed again as my boat crashed into a patch of water reeds. “Oh, no!” I cried. “What do I do now?”
Josh picked up a long branch from the ground. “Try this,” he suggested.
He gripped my wrist for support and I leaned far over the water with the branch in my hand, batting at the boat, trying to set it free.
“Whoa!” he shouted when I leaned too far, throwing us both off balance. Thinking fast, he grabbed the long branches of a nearby willow tree and steadied us. The motion of falling forward, then pulling back set my boat free, and we laughed as we watched it shoot off into the middle of the pond.
“Thank goodness,” I said, laughing. “I didn’t want to land in that water.”
“I know,” he agreed. “It’s a nice day, but not that nice.”
We stayed for more than two hours and had a great time. As Josh had predicted, the boats did eventually skirt along the edge of the pond, about three feet from us.
With long branches, we were able to pull them close enough so they could be plucked from the water.
“Ew, they’re cold,” I said, shaking the pond water from my hands.
“At least this day proves one thing,” Josh said.
“What?”
“That our friendship is really going to work.”
I looked at him and smiled. “I think you’re right,” I said, setting down my boat.
It seemed like the moment for a kiss. But that would have been out of place on a friendship date. Yet a handshake seemed wrong also. Way too formal.
Josh opened his arms and folded me into a hug. I hugged him back. We both held on tight.
And it felt absolutely, one hundred percent, perfectly right.
* * *
Dear Reader,
In Claudia and the Little Liar, Claudia and her friends baby-sit for Haley, who’s having a difficult time in school and covers up by telling a lie. Before she knows it, the lie snowballs, and Haley and the baby-sitters are in big trouble. It’
s amazing how many problems one little lie can cause. Most of the time when we lie, we’re trying to get ourselves out of trouble. But one lie often leads to more lies and more trouble. A lie is often tempting to tell because it seems like the easy way out of a difficult situation. Haley’s first lie seemed like a good idea to her at the time — it seemed easier to tell a lie than to confess she couldn’t do her homework. But that one little lie led to another … then another … and another.
Almost everyone lies once in a while. But a good rule of thumb is to remember that in the long run your lie is going to cause more trouble than telling the truth, as difficult as the truth might seem. If Haley had only told the truth and asked for help, she would have saved herself and the BSC a lot of trouble!
Happy reading!
* * *
The author gratefully acknowledges
Suzanne Weyn
for her help in
preparing this manuscript.
About the Author
ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.
There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.)In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.
Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.
Copyright © 1999 by Ann M. Martin
Cover art by Hodges Soileau
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.