The Good, the Bad and the Bossy (Best Babysitters Ever). Caroline Cala

her hopes and dreams. She told Veronica about all the beautiful toys waiting back at home, and how they would wear matching outfits and sleep in Bree’s big, fluffy bed. She told her about all the songs she would sing and the musical numbers Veronica could participate in. There was even talk of a sequined hoodie the perfect size for a cat.

      At last, they arrived home. Bree could hardly believe this was it: the beautiful moment when they started their new life, together.

      “And this,” Bree said, opening the door to her bedroom, “is your new home. What do you think?”

      The cat did not answer.

      Bree placed the cat carrier in the centre of her room and opened the tiny door.

      “Welcome home, Veronica!”

      The cat made no move to exit. She just sat there, scowling.

      “Veronica! This is where you live now.”

      More scowling.

      Bree sat on her bed, waiting for the cat to emerge. But she showed no sign of movement. Bree tried to think of what she would do if a new babysitting charge was being shy. Maybe a game of show-and-tell would liven things up. She started wandering around the room, holding up objects.

      She grabbed a stuffed giraffe off of a shelf. “This is Wallace,” she said. “I met him at a carnival when I was seven. He’s kind of a secret. I’ve slept next to him every night since I was in kindergarten and I’m not about to stop now. But now that you live here, if you want to cuddle with me instead, well, we can talk about that.”

      Veronica blinked.

      Bree grabbed a book from her desk. “This is my chemistry textbook. I’m not sure what it’s doing out on my desk right now, because I hate it.” She slipped it into her backpack, where she could no longer see it. “That’s better.”

      Next, Bree wandered back over to the bed. “This is my favourite pillow.” She held up a pillow that her seventeen-year-old stepsister, Ariana, had given her for her last birthday. It was navy blue, with lots of very shiny silver sequins sewed all over it, like tiny little mirrors. “Isn’t it pretty?” The pillow sparkled in the light.

      “MEOW-MEOW!” Veronica came bounding out of the case. “MEEEEEEEEEROW!” The cat headed straight towards her, a look of pure fury in her giant yellow eyes. Bree had never seen anything move so fast in her life. She was so shocked, she dropped the pillow.

      “MEEEEEEEEEW!” Veronica landed on top of the pillow, where she began attacking it with her very sharp claws. Mirrored sequins flew into the air, along with clouds of stuffing. It was the most destructive thing Bree had ever seen. She stood there, stunned.

      Bree had loved that pillow for as long as she’d had it, and she’d loved cats for, well, her entire life. She had pictured a very different homecoming. Instead, she stood helplessly, watching as her perfect day was destroyed in seconds.

      She had expected to spend this day petting Veronica, dressing her in various dolls’ clothes while softly singing her songs from Cats the Musical. Veronica, clearly, had a different idea.

      

      Dot stared into her beaker with the same intensity her mother (a practising clairvoyant) used to gaze into her crystal ball. Most likely, it was growing up in a home surrounded by crystals and candles and charts about meridians and chakras that had pushed Dot toward her love of hard data and irrefutable facts. While she excelled in all subjects, from literature to algebra to Latin, science was her thing. Dot preferred the school’s science lab to all other places. To her, there was nothing more satisfying than being surrounded by test tubes and chemicals and scales, conducting experiments that would ultimately lead to only one right answer.

      Today, her chemistry class was working on a very simple assignment, the distillation of wood. Dot already knew the outcome: after the wood was heated, it would decompose, forming charcoal and vapours. Still, she completed every step, charting her progress along the way.

      Dot was glad that today’s assignment was such a simple one because she was tired. She had spent the previous night babysitting for the Gomez family, new clients they had taken on to help drum up money for Veronica concert tickets. Dot didn’t like to take jobs on school nights, especially two nights in a row like she had this week, but she supposed it was worth it until the concert.

      To be very clear, Dot did not care about Veronica. She hardly ever listened to her music, except sometimes ironically. Okay, fine, Dot could admit that some of the songs were catchy, and even that they had the ability to put her in a sort of infectiously good mood. There was a time and place for Veronica music, like when attempting to exercise or perform a mindless task. But Dot was most excited about the concert itself, because the venue had excellent junk food – popcorn, funnel cakes, and the best chicken fingers you could imagine. Her mom hadn’t made any progress on her rules against allowing gluten or animal products or processed sugar into the house, so Dot needed to seize every opportunity she had.

      “Looking good,” said Mr Frang, nodding as he passed Dot’s lab table. The head of the science department, Mr Frang was a tall man with a grey beard that reminded Dot of an elf. It was obvious that Dot was his favourite student, though she knew he tried to act impartial.

      Dot squinted her eyes, concentrating with laser focus, but her mind wasn’t on today’s experiment. In truth, it was somewhere else entirely: thinking about the upcoming science fair.

      The middle-school science fair was a very big deal, as it was the gateway to everything important in the science community. The winner of the school fair would go on to compete at the regional level, followed by the state level and, eventually, against the entire nation. Students who competed at the national level were scouted for special programs and awards, and were often the ones who were awarded scholarships when the time came to apply for college.

      Dot knew she was only in middle school, but still, she liked to plan ahead. Despite her mom’s psychic abilities, it would be hard for her to afford college tuition, and Dot was determined to work it out on her own. This was just one of many factors that made it particularly troubling that she hadn’t yet come up with a winning idea.

      Luckily, the other students at Playa del Mar weren’t particularly competitive. She could already predict what everyone else would do. All the usual suspects would be covered: a homemade radio, a chart of the various types of fingerprints, an exploration of how a blindfold changes the relationship to taste and smell. That was all fine and good. But she needed to innovate. She needed something that would trump them all.

      This was game time. Crunch time. Go time. All of the times. This was it.

      Just as Dot was getting lost in a daydream in which she won the national science fair and was receiving a medal of honour at the White House, the door to the science lab creaked open.

      Principal Davies set one foot inside the room.

      “Everyone, I’d like you to meet a new student here at Playa del Mar.” She stepped aside to allow said student to enter. “This is Pigeon de Palma.”

      Dot looked up to see a very pretty girl. She had super-long, wavy brown hair, almost like a darker version of Dot’s hair. She wore a black T-shirt emblazoned with a faded golden lightning bolt, black skinny jeans, and the coolest ankle boots Dot had ever seen. They were black leather, with teeny tiny gold studs snaking all around them, in complicated designs. Around the ankles, they had three thin straps, each ending with a delicate gold buckle. Dot had seen shoes like that in magazines but never in person.

      “Hi, everyone,” Pigeon said, offering the classroom a little wave. Her voice was sort of low and gravely, but very cute. “I’m so excited to be here.”

      “Welcome, Pigeon!” said Mr Frang.

      Dot wasn’t sure