The Black Notebook

by Isabelle Snow

  When I’d finally calmed down, I got up to my feet and wobbled into Colin’s room.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected.

  But I definitely wasn’t expecting dozens of drawings and sketches taped to the walls, posters of bands I didn’t know, and pictures of friends and family at special occasions and breathtaking views. At one side of the room there was large desk that looked like it was drowning underneath all the sketchpads and pencils and rulers and eraser bits strewn on it. On the wall surrounding the desk were more drawings and sketches and more pictures all tacked straight to the wall with colored pins.

  His closet had been left open and clothes were dumped carelessly at its foot. A large poster of what looked like Chicago was stuck on the door. His sneakers were kicked to the side and his backpack sat on his bed, which had gray sheets and mismatched pillows. There was large TV balanced on a low shelf with a collection of DVDs and video games behind glass doors and a couch with a checkered wool blanket thrown over the seat was placed in front of it.

  I took a moment to look around, drinking in the sight that Colin would see every time he woke up and every time he went to sleep, the place where he’d grown up since he was a little boy, the place that he thought of as his private sanctuary, a place where he could be alone.

  I tried to imagine what it was like for him in there. Did he sit properly on the couch or did he lie down with the side of his face pressed against the armrest with his limbs dangling off the edge? Did he do his homework on the desk or did he study on the bed, a pencil between his teeth?

  And then I wondered if he’d ever invited a girl to his room. I frowned at the thought and decided to focus on the matter at hand.

  I glanced at my watch and saw it flick to six forty-six. I had to move quickly. I’d wasted so much time on climbing the tree and slowing my rapid breathing afterwards.

  Colin and his family were probably already in the middle of eating or were sharing stories about their day over dessert, like my mom and I usually did. Hopefully he would decide to watch some TV before coming back up to his room so I could have more time to look around.

  I walked towards his bed, making my footsteps as quiet as possible (I didn’t know if his floorboards creaked), and looked under the sheets and pillows. I looked through his backpack, digging through the junk inside and found nothing. I hurried to his desk and rummaged through the things there. I tried not to mess it up too much that the next time he was seated there he’d notice the difference.

  But alas the black notebook was nowhere to be found.

  I paced inside his room, planting my hands on hips and clicking my tongue irritably. Where did he hide it? Could it be that he took it with him? If he had, then this plan was an utter failure. I’d have to—

  The doorknob suddenly jiggled, but I was too caught in surprise to try and hide myself as the door swung open. I stood there frozen, my heart attempting to jump out of my chest, and waited for the person to come in and spot me.

  It was Colin.

  He looked up and, the moment his eyes landed on me, he yelled a curse and put a hand to his chest. I winced. Unlike yesterday at the lockers, he couldn’t hold back his shock.

  From downstairs, I could hear the sound of chairs screeching against the floor and voices saying, “Colin, are you alright? What’s the matter?”

  Colin stared at me and I couldn’t put a finger on his expression, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a good one. I was so dead. Why did he have to come back up to his room so early?

  Instead of telling his family that there was a thief in his room and that they should call the police to bring me to the nuthouse like I expected him to, he replied, his eyes never leaving me, “Sorry! It’s nothing.”

  He didn’t wait for his family to respond. He immediately walked into his room and kicked the door shut. I was alone with him in his room. If the circumstances were different, I would have blushed or felt extremely embarrassed. But right then I merely paled.

  In three strides he was right in front of me, so near that I could feel the warmth of his body, and he seized my upper arm in his large hand. “What on earth are you doing here, Seven? Have you gone crazy?”

  “I—look, Colin, it’s not what you think! You’re—you’re not supposed to come up yet!” I said lamely. “Why are you here?”

  “I was coming up to take a bath when I caught you red-handed,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me, and then added, “and isn’t that supposed to be my question, you stalker?”

  I blinked. Colin looked so serious, so different from how he was in school, that it frightened me. But only then did I see the laughter in his eyes.

  “I’m not a stalker!” I said, shaking my arm free out of his grasp. I glared at him and declared, “I just want my black notebook back!”

  For the first time in the whole exchange, he smiled at me and said, “Give it up already.”

  He had no idea how much I wanted to but I had to keep my stand. “Return it to me right now, Colin, or I’ll take it to even more extreme measures.”

  “Oh, what a threat,” he said mockingly and then grinned, raising his hands and joking, “All of your secrets are mine!” And then he burst into such an evil laughter.

  That single line made me stop. Did that mean he’d read what was inside the notebook already? It wasn’t unlikely. Curiosity had probably overcome him and now he knew everything. The secrets were out.

  “No!” I practically screamed, not caring if his family could hear us downstairs or if the entire world did. I shoved at his chest angrily, demanding, “Give it back to me! Give it back!”

  I heard Colin say, “Whoa!” before I collided against him and we fell down onto his bed. Somehow, I ended up on top of him, my face buried at the crook of his neck and my legs ungracefully planted on either side of his hips. I could feel the weight of his arm around my waist as I pushed myself up and found myself nose-to-nose with Colin Stillman.

  Time stopped and so did my heart.

  I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, just staring at each other with equally wide eyes, but thankfully I realized what I was doing, and what I looked like, and immediately scrambled off him, blushing and stammering, “I-I’m sorry, Colin, I didn’t mean to—”

  But before I could get off him, his hands shot out and took my wrists. He flipped me over—he was surprisingly strong—and pinned my hands above my head.

  Colin grinned mischievously down at me. “Naughty little Seven,” he said, his breath tickling my cheek. “If you just wanted a chance with me, you could’ve just said so.”

  “What? No! It was an accident!” I squeaked, struggling to get my hands free so I could push him away because he was getting too close for comfort, but he still held me captive. He snorted and I swallowed down a whimper. “Please, let me go. I—I can’t breathe.”

  For some reason Colin must have found that funny because he chuckled and asked, “Is that so?” He drew even closer. “What about now?”

  I opened my mouth and I had no idea anymore whether it was to take a breath or to answer him since my mind was pretty fuzzy, when from the other side of the door someone called, “Colin? Are you sure you’re okay? I heard shouting.”

  Colin’s head snapped up immediately and he muttered under his breath, “Oh, no. Mom.”

  He rolled off me and I could breathe again, but it wasn’t even a second after before he pulled me up to my feet and told me, “Go under the bed.”

  “But—”

  “Now, Seven.”

  “Colin?” his mom asked, sounding worried. “Is someone else in there with you?”

  “Uh, no, Mom!” he called back just as I crawled under his bed. There was a thin layer of dust coating old shoeboxes and forgotten toys, and I had to pinch my nose so as to not inhale it. From my position, I could see the door click open and a pair of legs belonging to a woman walked in.

  “What’s up?” I heard Colin say casually as his weight made the be
d sink a little. He must’ve sat down.

  His mom didn’t answer immediately. “I’m sure I heard other voices in here…”

  He laughed—a little nervously—and said, “Mom, you’re being silly. Voices? I think you’re still recovering from that horror movie we watched with Cass.”

  I could almost imagine his mom frown at him as she declared, “I am not.”

  I watched as his mother strode towards his bed and it sunk a little more. “Colin, is there anything you want to tell me?” she asked.

  “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong—”

  “No, I don’t mean that,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I mean, are you going through something emotional? Because it is very normal for teenagers around your age to experience a lot of things all at once, Candice told me. You know you can always talk to me, right?”

  It sounded as if Colin had choked on a frog. “Mom,” he said bashfully. “I’m fine, really.”

  I clapped my hands over my mouth and giggled.

  Colin slammed his fist against his bed cushion and the underside slammed against my head.

  “Ouch!” I involuntarily blurted and Colin immediately covered it with a loud cough and said, “Ou—oh, oh, no I think I have a cough.”

  “Colin, are you alright? Do you need a glass of water?”

  Colin laughed and said, “False alarm, Mom. Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I should go take a bath now. Go back down before Dad finishes all the pudding.” The bed creaked and I could see Colin’s sneakers going around the bed and stopping in front of his mom.

  He was probably dragging her out because her feet stumbled and she said, “Colin! What’s the rush for?”

  “I, uh, I can’t change with you in here, Mom! Jeez. And I still have homework to do. Come on.”

  “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

  I inched closer to the edge of the bed and looked up to see Colin and his mom standing by the door. It wasn’t all that surprising that his mom was beautiful—I mean, just look at the son!—but she looked young and I wondered how old she was.

  My eyes drifted to the red hair that Colin had inherited, but hers was like the color of wine, curled and cascading down to her chest. Even from this distance I could see that she had blue eyes, not green. Colin must’ve gotten them from his dad.

  His mom reached out and pinched his cheek, which made him grimace. She looked at him lovingly and said, “I can’t believe my little pumpkin’s all grown up.”

  “Mom,” he groaned, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. He gently pulled her hand away. “Stop calling me that already.”

  I clamped my mouth shut, trying to keep the laughter within. I was so close to bursting.

  Colin probably heard me because he cleared his throat and smiled tightly.

  His mom giggled and said, “Fine then, big man.” With that, she walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. Colin let out a sigh of relief as he leaned his back against the door. I waited for five full seconds before I laughed out loud, rolling out of the shadow of his bed.

  He looked down at me with narrowed eyes and asked, “What’s so funny, Seven?”

  “Nothing,” I said, titling my head up so I could look at him from my place on the floor, “my little pumpkin.” And then I burst out laughing again while clutching my stomach.

  Colin pursed his lips, for once out of words to say, and only managed an “It’s not funny.”

  I smirked up at him and threw his words back at him: “You just don’t find it funny because you’re the butt of the joke.”

  As Colin frowned at me I pushed myself into a sitting position and from there stood up. I dusted off my pants and shirt without taking my eyes away from Colin. “So, I assume you don’t want anyone else to know that your mother still calls you ‘little pumpkin’, right?”

  “Duh,” he said, knitting his eyebrows at me. “Would you?”

  “No,” I said, grinning, “and that’s why I’m only going to say this once: give me back the black notebook or I’m telling everybody in school. And don’t think I don’t have any useful connections.”

  I felt my heart leap in victory as Colin started to look worried but contrary to his expression, he said, “They wouldn’t believe you, anyway.”

  I crossed my arms and looked at him smugly, “Oh, really?”

  He thought about it and then said, “Fine. If they do, wouldn’t they wonder why you were in my house in the first place? Wouldn’t that make them think that there’s something between us when there isn’t?”

  His last sentence hurt, but his words were true. My face fell, the laughter died in my throat, and when I didn’t say anything to that, he asked, his face saying all the words that he didn’t need to say, that he had won—again—“Do you want that?”

  I cursed myself silently for admitting, “No.” My shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “Good,” he said, smiling, “I didn’t think so. Now I suggest you better get going before my mom sees us this time, or worse, one of my sisters. I would never hear the end of it.” He paused and then asked, “How did you get in here, anyway?”

  “I climbed the tree,” I said, pointing just outside his balcony. I only noticed then how dark the sky was already. I wondered if the taxi driver was still there.

  “You did?” he asked in surprise and stepped out onto the balcony. “It’s a pretty hard climb. Can you climb back down?”

  I didn’t feel the need to tell Colin that I took more than half an hour climbing and proudly declared, “Of course I can!”

  I walked towards the branch and took a deep breath before swinging one leg over the railing. I made the mistake of looking down. The earth seemed to swim and I could feel my body falling forward. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the railing as hard as I could, my nails digging into the wood.

  “Seven!” I heard Colin call my name and then his hand was on my shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I breathed out, but I refused to open my eyes.

  Colin sighed and said, “Look, get off there. I’ll climb down first. If ever you fall, I can always catch you.”

  That actually sounded really nice and encouraging but I shook my head firmly. “No, I can do it.”

  “Seven, I know you can’t, so just move it,” he told me frankly, detaching me from my perch on the railing. He took my place and easily crawled towards the tree. He swung from branch to branch, his feet automatically finding the footholds and his hands the handholds. In a matter of minutes he was already at the ground, looking up at me.

  “Okay,” he whispered loudly, “your turn.”

  “It seems like you’ve done this before,” I commented, still not making a move.

  “I’ve escaped several times to go to parties, okay?” he said exasperatedly, giving me a look. “Now get down from there.”

  I swallowed nervously before trying to imitate what he’d done just then. I lacked the balance and confidence though, so I did it slowly, making Colin tap his foot impatiently.

  “I think I’m already a hundred years old,” he said when I had just landed safely on the second branch.

  “Shut up, will you?” I said, straightening to stand on the branch. The wood creaked and Colin immediately took a step forward, all jokes pushed aside. He reached out with his arms, ready to catch me. “Hey, be careful!”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that!” I said defiantly, preparing to place my foot on a branch at the other side of the tree and slowly shimmy my way down, but I slipped and, before I knew it, I was falling.

  “SEVEN!” Colin shouted. I let out a little scream and as the world turned into a big blur, time seemed to move both slowly and fast forward. I flailed my hands in an attempt to reach out for something—anything—but I only felt air, and even that slipped through my fingers.

  One moment I was still falling, and in the next, I crashed into Colin and we both got the w
ind knocked out of us. The impact was hard and painful and I twisted my ankle in the process.

  He groaned and coughed. I could hear the rumble in his chest. “Well, that was fun,” he deadpanned. I rolled off him, panting, with tears in my eyes. I hadn’t even taken another breath before I heard the sound of a dog barking. Paws padded on the grass towards us. Oh no.

  I looked up just in time before something yellow jumped on me and started licking my face. I screamed in surprise and tried to push the dog away but it kept getting its slobber on me.

  “Ah! Lassie! Stop it! Bad girl!” he scolded the dog. He tugged at the collar until Lassie finally detached herself from me and went over to her owner instead. He looked up at me and said, “I think you should go, Seven, before my whole family sees you.”

  “Right,” I said weakly, getting up to my feet. I winced when I put pressure on my sprained ankle but I managed to limp away. I could already see the taxi driver still waiting for me. I was almost out of Colin’s lawn when he called me, “Hey.”

  I turned to look back and saw him still lying on the grass, his dog beside him, wagging her tail enthusiastically.

  He smiled at me and said, “I’ll be looking forward to more of your antics, Seven Warrilow.”

  Entry 6: Plan E – Brute Force

  Date: March 16, 2013

  I was able to hide the fact that I’d sprained my ankle all until the next morning when I was climbing down the stairs and I looked like someone with a hip dislocation, or so my mother said. So I told her that I’d sprained my ankle last night on my way home but that I didn’t want to worry her by saying anything.

  “But it’s my responsibility to be worried!” she protested and then whisked me off to the nearest clinic we could find. The doctor told her not to stress over my ankle since it just had a minor twist. He told me to stay at home for the next few days and rest and exercise it every once in a while. In a week or so, I would be good as new.

  “What happened?” she asked me on the way home, while assisting me in walking and acting as my cane replacement.