I’d always thought a person with many friends doesn’t have any at all, but I wondered if that was the case for Colin. He was always running, always having fun—so much of it that I couldn’t imagine a single problem weighing him down. I knew that wasn’t true because nobody was perfect, despite how some people seem to be pretty close to it, but I just wondered.
“Seven, are you alright?” somebody asked. When I turned to look at them, I realized that it was Brant. He must’ve been standing there all this time.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding at him reassuringly. “I’m fine.”
“Here, let me help you,” he said, ever the gentleman, and bent down to pick up my books, which were scattered in the hallway.
“You don’t have to,” I said and helped him pick them up. Once I’d gotten them all back in my arms I smiled and thanked him.
Brant shrugged. “I kind of owe you for taking the time to talk with me about…you know.”
I shook my head and assured him, “It’s no big deal. I’m just glad to help.”
“Yeah, well, your help paid off,” he said, grinning happily.
My eyes went wide as I asked, “You finally asked her out? What did she say?” although I already knew what Bianca would say, of course.
“At first she said that I didn’t really need to ask her out since we always go out to eat and hang out, but then I told her that I meant it differently than I did before,” he said, and for a moment, he seemed to be glowing. “She was ecstatic.”
“Aw, that’s great for you guys!” I said sincerely. “So, where are you taking her?”
As Brant and I talked on the way to class I wondered when the time would come when I would be asked out by a guy.
It wasn’t as if I was hideous or anything. I had long black hair, dark eyes, average height with just the right amount of curves, but a girl could start to doubt herself when she’s a year away from the end of her high school days and there still weren’t any boys who looked at her as more than a friend.
It was such a sad thought that I chose to ignore it, mostly because I didn’t want to show any hints to Brant or anybody else around me that I was practically eating myself from the inside already, or that what I really, really wanted was for the guy who just bumped me earlier to say something to me, other than an apology.
But I knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.
If only I knew how wrong I was.
***
“This is only between the two of us, okay?”
“Sure,” I said with a reassuring smile, just as the bell rang and everybody else in the room quickly dashed into their seats. Our next subject was history and the teacher, Mrs. Keys, was known to be stricter than the disciplinarian. A single accidental noise made while she was teaching would be more than enough for her to ask you to stand in front of the class for the whole period.
“It will be our secret,” I told the girl sitting beside me, Veronica, and she immediately released a sigh of relief.
“Thanks a lot, Seven,” she whispered as she turned to the front. I did the same, and in that exact moment, Mrs. Keys walked into the room, chin held high and heels clicking on the floor. Silence fell upon the students in the room like a warm blanket as she quietly placed her things on the desk.
Her eyes scanned the room suspiciously behind rectangular spectacles before she said, “We’ll be having a little seatwork today before the lesson. I’ll write the questions on the board. Answer them in a notebook or a piece of paper, whichever you prefer. I don’t think I need to tell you to keep your mouths shut while you do it.”
With that, she turned away from us and started scratching words on the board with squeaky chalk. Besides that, the only other sound was the shuffle of papers and bags. As I took out a notebook, I patted around the front pocket for the black notebook. I needed to write down Veronica’s secret before I forgot it later on.
My hand dug in deeper but there was nothing. Dread filled me all the way to my toes and fingertips, quickening my heartbeat. The pocket was empty.
The black notebook was…gone.
Resisting the urge to utter a curse, I glanced up at the teacher to check that she wasn’t looking before I grabbed my entire bag and searched everywhere—the other front pockets, inside the bag, and a secret pocket at the back but it was nowhere to be found.
I was full on panicking. My mind went back to places I’d been, things I’d touched, and people I’d talked to. Where did I lose it? When did I lose it? I was pretty sure it wasn’t at home; I used it earlier this morning. If that was so, then that meant—
“Ms. Warrilow, is there a problem?” Mrs. Keys asked, pausing in her writing and narrowing her eyes.
Seats creaked as everybody else in the room quietly turned to look at me. I raised my eyes to her and swallowed. I wanted to ask her if I could go to the bathroom, just so I could look for the black notebook, but I didn’t know if she even allowed that, as ridiculous as that sounds.
Instead, I cleared my throat and shook my head, saying, “No, ma’am.”
She stared at me coolly for a while before resuming her writing. I carefully placed my bag on the floor before dragging a hand down my face and silently cursing myself.
I thought back to all of the secrets that I’d written in that black notebook, some ridiculous and nowhere near serious, while others could ruin relationships and people’s lives in the process. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I had to find that black notebook, even if it was the death of me.
People had trusted me with their secrets and I’d lost them—literally.
Waiting for class to end was torture. After the seatwork, a lecture quickly followed and I couldn’t help but keep cracking my knuckles nervously or wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. I kept turning back and looking at the clock, hoping that the hand had moved some more, but only a minute had passed every time I looked.
I had a feeling I was close to insanity, especially with the dizzying effects of thoughts like: I hope nobody found it yet. Who am I kidding? This is high school. People steal each other’s homework every morning and we call it normal. What if somebody did find it? What if they’re reading it while I’m losing my mind right now? What if it was one of the people who came to me for advice? What would they think of me? What if it someone who wanted to mean another person harm? They could read the person’s secret and plot an evil master plan right now. Why isn’t the bell ringing already?
Even Veronica was giving me odd looks.
At last, for what felt like an eternity, the bell came exactly on time and I immediately rushed out of my seat and was first out of the door.
Thinking quickly, I retraced my steps earlier this morning. First, I came to school and was met by a boy named Gordon, who talked to me about his friend who seemed to be taking a video game too seriously. Whenever he won, his friend would swear and curse a lot and then wouldn’t talk to him for a few days.
I ran out of the building and to the front gates of the school. From there, I went on a frantic search in the grass where I’d walked about this morning. Everything was clear.
I couldn’t remember what I’d told Gordon, but I remembered walking with him to my locker to get my things.
I headed back inside the building and toward my locker. I nearly ripped the door open and ransacked the books inside but still the black notebook was nowhere to be seen.
After my locker, I’d gone to my first class, but I couldn’t go there now. So instead I went for the girls’ bathrooms. I’d only been on the first floor for today so I checked all four of them and ran my eyes over the counter, the sinks, under the sinks, inside the stalls, behind the toilets and the trashcans, but it wasn’t there.
I even asked the janitor, “Have seen a black notebook? It’s small—about this size. Have you?”
The woman looked surprised and perhaps a little frightened at how urgent my tone was. I didn’t even want to begin to think about what I looked like right then.
My hair was probably a rat’s nest and my forehead was likely glistening with sweat.
She shook her head and said, “Sorry, no.”
I stomped out of the girls’ bathroom, and as I passed people rushing to their next class, I asked again, “Excuse me, have you seen a black notebook?”
But sadly, none of them had.
I continued searching frantically around the school, hoping I’d just missed the black notebook somehow and it was actually right under my nose, but it was nowhere in sight.
I tried to ignore the fact that the second bell had already rung, meaning that, if I didn’t get my butt on the seat in my next class in two minutes, I was going to be late. The hallway was eerily quiet. Everyone else was already in class. I pulled at my hair in frustration. This was hopeless.
I turned, planning on rechecking the places I’d gone to, and bumped straight into a brick wall. I stumbled back and felt two hands rest on my shoulders, steadying me. I looked up and I must’ve been dreaming, because, for the second time that day, Colin Stillman was standing in front of me, his face just inches from mine.
“It seems we’re always bumping into each other, huh?” he said, smirking. “So, you’re Seven, right? Some of my friends know you.”
Okay, so it wasn’t a dream. And he knew my name!
“Um, yeah…” I murmured lamely, a blush tainting my cheeks from how intently he was looking at me. I couldn’t believe it! I was usually so fluent, so easy with words whenever I was giving advice, but right then, just when I had the chance to talk with the one boy whom I wanted to notice me, I was tongue-tied.
Speaking of advice, I suddenly remembered the very reason I was out in the halls and not in my geometry class. I took a deep breath, summoning up the little courage I had, and asked, “Have—have you seen a black notebook anywhere in school?”
Colin raised his eyebrows and echoed, “A black notebook?”
“Yeah, it’s about this small,” I said, trying to show him the size with my hands. “I don’t know where I’ve lost it and it’s really important to me.”
“Hmm…” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his green eyes lingering on me. Was it just me or did I see a twinkle of mischief in those eyes?
With a barely-there smile, he slipped his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and brought out the exact black Moleskine notebook I had been looking for. “You mean this?”
“Yes,” I breathed out in relief as I grinned up at him. He gave me a Cheshire cat smile. “Thank you. I—”
As I went to take it, he suddenly pulled back, keeping it just out of my reach.
“Now,” he said slowly, “what makes you think I’m going to give it back just like that?”
I blinked at Colin in surprise. “Because…because it’s mine,” I said, too confused to find a better reason.
He chuckled and looked at the black notebook in his hand. “I suppose,” he said and then glanced at me from the corner of his eye, “but that would be boring.” He leaned closer, close enough that I could feel his warmth radiating off him. He met my eyes and, if only the situation were different, it would’ve been romantic. “Pry it out of my cold dead fingers.”
My eyes widened in utter shock. He suddenly laughed and said, “I’m just kidding. That was too serious.”
My lips twitched into a hesitant smile and I reached for the notebook again but Colin stepped away just in time and laughed—the same laugh that I had thought was so full of freedom and joy, that an hour ago I couldn’t have imagined being irritated about.
“Fooled ya!” he laughed and started jogging backwards while waving the black notebook in the air. “Take it from me—if you can, that is!”
I gaped at him. He was so—he was so childish! All this time that I’d been admiring him from a distance; I thought he was simply fun to be with and always just kidding around, but this was an entirely new level.
I was so wrong about him. It was as if I’d been sleepwalking all this time and now I was finally fully awake. He wasn’t the boy that I’d dreamed about whisking me off my feet and running into the sunset with.
This was Colin Stillman—and he was a jerk.
Just as he disappeared around a corner, my hands curled into furious, trembling fists. A sudden rage that I didn’t know I could hold filled me up. He had no idea who he was dealing with.
So he wanted to play this game? I thought to myself. Fine, I’ll play with him—but I’m sure not planning on losing.
Colin Stillman, you’re going down.
Entry 3: Plan A – Confrontation
Date: March 11, 2013
The first thing I woke up to on Monday morning was my mom screaming in my ear: “Seven! Why are you sleeping on the desk?”
My eyes immediately snapped open and the sunlight that streamed through my window nearly blinded me. I groaned, raising a hand to cover my face, and suddenly felt something wet around my mouth. I sat up, my stiff muscles popping and my head aching. I looked around.
I was sitting on my chair, with tons of crumpled papers scattered on my desk, and there were messy words and drawings that I’d scrawled in one of my schoolbooks. My lamp was still on and it illuminated the pool of drool on the hard wood where I had slept the whole night.
I turned my head slowly towards my mom, who looked at me like I was crazy. “I…I think I was doing homework,” I mumbled sleepily, but I knew that it wasn’t homework.
Last Friday, the worst day of my life so far (worse than the time I was running in the park with vanilla ice cream in my hand and bumped into an old man, getting it all over his nice sweater. He looked horrified and I felt so embarrassed and so mortified at what I’d done that I cried all the way home after my mom had profusely apologized to him and taken me away), I had waited after school for Colin in the place where I knew he usually exited the building.
When he finally arrived with his group of friends, he actually had the guts to smile at me and say, “Goodbye, Seven.”
Any other day that would’ve made me walk back home on clouds, but that day was different. “Give it back to me, Colin,” I’d said to him with gritted teeth. “I mean it.”
“Didn’t I tell you already?” he told me, walking away slowly with that stupid smile on his face. “That would be too boring. And I don’t do boring stuff.”
Determined, I’d stomped back home and immediately shut myself inside my room. For the whole weekend I went through my sci-fi, thriller, and suspense novels and movies, analyzing how the hero had fought the villain and got what they wanted in the end. It wasn’t much of a strategy, but it was all that I had. And I had to protect everybody’s secrets.
Even as the calls and texts came again, I ignored them, not because I was starting to get annoyed or was tired, but mostly because I felt too guilty to talk to anyone about any more secrets.
With all the information I had, I tried to mark out a plan that I could unravel first thing on Monday. And that morning, despite my sluggish appearance, I was ready.
My mom shook her head incredulously at me and said, “Well, whatever it was you were doing, it must’ve taken you all night because you overslept and now you’re going to be late for school if you don’t get in the shower right now.”
“But, Mom, what about—”
“Forget breakfast, Seven.”
I whined as she left the room and I headed to the bathroom with fresh clothes in my arms. In the shower, as hundreds of warm droplets fell on me, washing away my tension and morning fatigue, I took deep, slow breaths.
Thinking about talking to Colin still gave me the occasional butterflies, but I kept reminding myself that he wasn’t as good a person as I thought he was. I needed to prepare myself for this.
After I’d done my morning preparations, I was out of the door with my backpack over my shoulders and on the way to school.
Even though I had several ideas on how to get the black notebook back sneakily, or in a way where Colin would have had
no choice whatsoever (at least I hoped), I knew that I had to take baby steps first. I would beg him verbally, pleading again and again. I had to make Colin think that that was all I could do.
So, the moment I saw him in school, I strolled over to him, pushing aside my shyness, and said, “Colin.”
“Well, hello there,” he replied cheerfully. He was wearing a checkered shirt over a long-sleeved black undershirt and old jeans, but despite its plainness and slightly tattered appearance, he looked amazing. “And what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?”
As we walked through the hallway together, people greeted and waved at us, and while I responded as I usually would, I whispered to him, “Please, Colin. Give me back my notebook.”
“Why do you want it so much? Hey, buddy!” he said, grinning at a friend who was just passing by.
“I told you—it’s important to me.”
“Hmm…yes, but I want to see exactly how important,” he said, smiling at me mischievously.
The blood drained from my face. “Don’t you dare look inside!”
“Oh, daring me now, huh?” he asked, chuckling. He was obviously enjoying tormenting me. What did I ever see in this guy? “I like dares.”
Panicking, I thought quickly and said, “Please. I beg of you. What do you want? I’ll do anything.”
His emerald eyes sparkled with interest and danger and everything else in between. “Anything?” he asked.
The way he was looking at me held so many frightening possibilities that I started to say, “Um, on second thought—” but then I remembered all the things I’d written in that black notebook, all the secrets that I was supposed to be responsible for keeping. “No! I mean—ugh!”
Colin laughed and I distractedly noticed the crinkles around his eyes. Man, his laugh sounded really nice.
Idiot! Focus! I told myself, mentally shaking my head.
“You’re funny, Seven.” He suddenly stopped at a classroom door—it must’ve been his first class—and turned back to me. “But that isn’t going to convince me to give it back to you.”
The Black Notebook Page 3
