The Black Notebook

by Isabelle Snow

  I had long before used my resources to dig up his cell number, but I never dared myself to text him. Sure, there were times when I attempted to compose a text and send it to him, but I would always squeal in panic and erase the message before I could send it accidentally and die in shame.

  My stomach was twisting itself into knots as I waited in anticipation for his reply. Would he know it was me? Did that mean he had my number all this time too? What would he say? Would he think that I was one of those girls who kept texting him, trying to catch his attention?

  Each time my phone buzzed, I jumped and quickly snatch it to see if it was him, but it was always someone else.

  After a while, another buzz came and I checked my phone, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest when I saw his name on my screen. I swallowed nervously as I pressed the OPEN button.

  He had replied: Rick, if this is you, then how dare you steal my prank text ideas! But if it’s not, then who’s this?

  I laughed softly at the way he responded, so much like how he talked in real life, and I could almost imagine his voice saying the words. I noted that he wasn’t the type to use shortcuts when texting.

  I simply typed: 7

  Three minutes later, a little quicker than his earlier reply, he said: Oh hey! :) I see you’ve taken another level of stalking.

  For a moment I smiled at how warmly he greeted me when he knew it was me texting him, but that smile quickly turned upside down when I saw his last sentence. Scowling at my phone, I replied: Give me back my notebook, Colin. I’m serious.

  I pressed send. My phone beeped.

  And you think I’m not?

  Well, okay, I’m not. Haha.

  I gritted my teeth and furiously texted: Give it back.

  No.

  PLEASE give it back.

  No.

  Please.

  No.

  Come on!

  No ;)

  I screamed in frustration. Give it back! Not waiting for his reply, I resent him the same message again—and again and again and again and again.

  But he said No again—and again and again and again and again. His last one, though, contained a question: How did you get my number anyway?

  This was the question I had been dreading. Trying to sound as if I had everything in control, I replied: I have my resources. Now give it back.

  That sounds kind of cool but no. Sorry, stalker.

  GIVE IT COLIN! And I’m not a stalker!

  No.

  I was so tempted to text him the same message again, when my phone suddenly vibrated—a little longer this time—and my screen flashed with the words:

  INCOMING CALL

  COLIN

  My thumb hovered over the green ANSWER button. For some reason, my heart started racing and I suddenly became conscious of myself. This was going to be my first call conversation with Colin. I remembered the daydreams I had of him suddenly calling me out of nowhere, just wanting to chat and—

  I quickly shook my head, trying to shake those thoughts away. “Keep your cool,” I whispered to myself. “He’s not the guy you thought you liked. He’s a jerk. He’s a jerk. He won’t give back your notebook. You’re supposed to be mad at him.” I let out a deep breath before answering the call.

  “Hello?” I asked quietly.

  “Hi there.” I couldn’t believe it—even his voice sounded amazing and the static made it a little husky. I blushed involuntarily and tried to sound irritated as I said, “Why are you calling me?”

  “No reason. I just wanted to hear what you sound like through the phone.”

  For a moment, I choked on my own words. “Whatever,” I finally spat out, and wondered how it was possible for someone who wasn’t even in the same room with you to make you blush even more than you already were.

  “And I’ve made an analysis that you sound different,” he continued, “…a little less squeaky.” On second thought, I suddenly remembered why I was supposed to be mad at him. “Anyway, I’m bored too, so yeah.”

  Through the phone, I could hear the sound of papers being flipped and something scratching. “What are you doing?” I asked curiously.

  “Sketching, why?”

  “It’s nothing. I can hear the paper,” I told him as I reached towards my ankle and gingerly touched it. Wincing at the sudden but tiny pain I felt there, I asked, “What are you sketching?”

  “A bridge,” he answered.

  “Isn’t that kind of hard?”

  “Yeah, it is, but I can manage.”

  “You must be pretty good at drawing.”

  “I don’t know…I’m not trying to be humble or anything, okay? But thanks. By the way, how’s your ankle?”

  “It’s still an ankle,” I replied sarcastically.

  “You’re so hilarious, Seven. Seriously, I think I’m going to die from laughter.”

  “Oh shut up.”

  “But seriously—and this is coming from me—are you okay?”

  I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling all warm and fuzzy. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said.

  “Wow, we just achieved a normal conversation. Way to go for us, huh, Seven?”

  “Give me back my notebook.”

  “Aaand…you ruined it. Nice going there.”

  “Look, Colin, I’m not your source of entertainment, okay? That notebook is really important to me and I need it back.”

  “Now you’re making me wonder what’s inside…” I heard more shuffling papers and my blood ran cold in fear. “Colin!” I practically screamed at the speaker.

  “Ouch! You don’t have to scream at my ear, you know!” I heard him mutter.

  “Give it back already! I mean it!”

  Colin sighed. “You know, I actually thought you were done chasing after me.”

  I paused for a while and then asked, “What made you think that?”

  “I can’t tell you. If I did, I’d have to kill you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That is so cliché. You know you sound like those bad boys in romance novels, right?”

  “What?”

  “You know, the guy that is always flirting with the protagonist, who in turn is actually already drooling over the bad boy’s sexiness but is still trying to deny it.”

  Colin chuckled and said, “So, in this situation you’re the protagonist who’s drooling over my sexiness and is still trying to deny it?”

  “N-No, I was just saying—” I started stuttering, and then I heard his booming laughter. “Ugh! J-Just give me back my notebook!”

  “No.”

  “Colin, I am so going to—”

  The line went dead. I pulled my phone away from my ear and glared at the screen that said: CALL ENDED.

  “I can’t believe it! He hung up on me!” I exclaimed and then angrily threw the phone at my bed, letting it bounce off and land at the edge.

  I crossed my arms and looked away, fuming. Not a minute after, I heard the familiar vibration of my phone against the bed. I glanced over at it and saw that I had a new message. I tentatively reached for it, hoping that it was Colin wanting to apologize and promising he would give it back already. I took the phone in my hand and opened the message.

  See you tomorrow, 7.

  Despite the red blush across my cheeks and the stirring of my butterflies, I threw my phone at the bed again.

  Entry 8: What If?

  Date: March 22, 2013

  “Colin!” I screamed as I ran down the hall as fast as I could, the people around us transforming into unrecognizable blobs in the background.

  Someone slammed into me—or perhaps the right way of saying it was that I slammed into someone—and they went sprawling to the ground, dropping their things. “Sorry!” I called back as I jumped over their fallen belongings and continued sprinting as if my life depended on it.

  The way my leg muscles were already complaining was enough proof to me that I needed more exercise. Although I’d been runnin
g faster than I ever thought I could in the past few days of chasing after the red-haired jerk who was, right then, just a few feet away from me, I still wasn’t used to the rigorous workout.

  “Come on, Seven!” Colin shouted, not even sounding out of breath—at all. “Keep up!”

  “I didn’t even agree to it yet!” I said, not even caring about the fact that the aforementioned unrecognizable blobs were turning their heads towards us and whispering and giggling behind their hands.

  You see, I’d been doing my best annoying him through constant text messages since last Tuesday, and just a minute ago, after calculus class, it seemed that my annoyance had finally paid off when Colin offered a proposition: “If you can beat me to the cafeteria line, I’ll give you back the notebook.”

  “Wait, what—”

  I hadn’t even finished my sentence when he took off running, choking me in the dust he left at his wake. It wasn’t as if he literally left dust, but it did take me a while before I caught on to what he said and sped after him—which led to the predicament I was in right at that moment.

  Colin weaved in between a group of friends slowly making their way to the cafeteria and I had to skid to a halt and circle around them. “But you’re already running anyway!” he said. “So don’t stop now!”

  I pumped my arms harder and tried to extend my leg reach. I was almost there. Colin was right in front of me. I could just reach him with the tips of my fingertips. We entered through the double doors of the cafeteria with a loud bang, but the hundreds of mouths talking all at once drowned the sound out. My hand reached out and held on tightly to the sleeve of his white sport shirt.

  Colin suddenly stopped. As I panted and reminded my lungs that a few minutes of breathlessness didn’t mean they could quit their job as being my lungs, I wondered hopefully if victory was mine.

  It took some effort to raise my head, what with the pounding of blood in my ears and the bright flashes of light at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away and finally saw Colin grinning down at me.

  How was it that someone you’re supposed to hate after all the trouble they put you through could still make your heart race—faster than the rate it was already going at—and make you forget everything else but them?

  “Too bad, Seven,” he said. “You almost won, you know.”

  At first I stared at him confused, and then I turned my attention to the floor, where Colin’s sneaker was stepping on the spot just behind the last guy at the cafeteria line. I immediately let go of his sleeve and said, “That’s not fair! You had a head start!”

  “No, I didn’t,” he dared deny it, “I gave you a second or two to digest it and react, but you obviously took your time, Seven. Not my problem.”

  I groaned angrily and said, “Stop playing with me already and give me back my notebook!” I shoved his arm and relished the hard muscle I felt there. He laughed, not noticing how his lean bicep was affecting me.

  He was about to say something in reply, but then he paused and smiled at someone behind me. “Hey, Maria,” he said, looking over my shoulder.

  I looked back to see a pretty blonde girl wearing a puffy peach blouse, gray skinny jeans, and black flats with little ribbons on them. I recognized her as one of the girls in Colin’s circle of friends. She was also one of the few people who didn’t come to me for their secrets but knew me from the classes we had together.

  Maria smiled back, all dimples and nice cheekbones. I suddenly felt conscious of all the baby fat I had on my face.

  “Hi, Colin,” she said, her voice so delicate and feminine that I almost—almost—stared at her in awe.

  “Did you hear about Alana’s party tonight?” he asked.

  She nodded and said, “Are you going?”

  “It’s a party,” he snorted, his tone implying that the answer was obvious enough.

  For a second there I thought she would just continue batting her eyelashes at Colin without acknowledging my presence, but then she turned to me and said, “You know, you’re invited too, Seven.”

  My eyes widened in surprise as I asked, “Really?”

  “Totally,” she said. “Especially after you…you know, helped her with a little problem.” She glanced over briefly at Colin and then winked at me. My mouth transformed into the shape of a letter O. Right. Alana was the girl who kept texting Colin endlessly. If I hadn’t told her to stop, maybe he eventually would have. That would be humiliating enough.

  Colin frowned. “I still don’t get what problem she’s going through. She won’t tell me.”

  It seemed that luckily, Colin hadn’t seen that secret in the black notebook—yet. A green-eyed monster in me wanted him to, though, so that I’d have one less rival in the process. I knew it was wrong to think that way, especially since I had nothing to be jealous about because I. Was. Not. His. Girlfriend, as I repeatedly reminded myself.

  I cut a glance towards Maria and noticed the way she was checking him out from the top of his messy red hair to the toe of his sneakers. It looked like there was another girl who was planning to join the Colin Stillman fan club.

  I quickly stepped forward, blocking her view, and smiled as innocently as I could manage. “So, what time did you say the party was going to be?”

  She blinked in surprise but quickly fixed her composure to say, “Around eight, maybe? It’s after dinner, for sure.” She probably sensed that she wouldn’t be able to make any real conversation with Colin with me around, so she said, “Well, I’d better head to Alana and the others. See you two later at the party!”

  With a wave, she turned on her heel and walked towards one of the tables, her hips swaying elegantly. I whirled around and caught Colin staring at her strut away. My heart sank.

  Colin glanced at me and smiled. “Hmm…I’m not sure if this is the first time I’d ever see you at a party, Seven.”

  “It is,” I said, wincing at the sudden lack of energy in my voice. “But I don’t plan on going anyway.”

  I’d been invited to parties before, parties that I knew Colin would be going to, but the little coward in me was too scared to see her crush go with another girl. I’d always thought that there wouldn’t be any point, especially since we hadn’t spoken to each other yet back then.

  However, for the party tonight, I could picture it in my head already: Colin would be sitting with his friends, I would find someone to keep me company, and then Maria or Alana or maybe both of them would linger around Colin like sly cats waiting to attack.

  “Hey, don’t be such a killjoy,” he said, poking my forehead with his index finger. I glared at him as I swatted his hand away. “Come on, get your nose out of those books you’re always reading and have some fun.”

  “You sound just like my mom,” I commented, stepping forward in the line.

  He grinned and said, “I was right to think that she’s a very intelligent woman, then. Now, come on!”

  I looked up at Colin. His emerald-green eyes stared intently into my dark ones, so open and piercing that I felt like they could swallow me up alive. I glanced away. I supposed it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, he was asking me to come to the party, as if he wanted me there.

  But did he, really?

  After some reluctance, I sighed and said, “We’ll see.”

  ***

  Eight hours later, my mom couldn’t wait to get me out of the house.

  “Finally!” my mom chirped as she placed the last of the dirty dishes into the sink. “You’re going to a party! How long has it been since you’ve been to one, anyway?”

  “Too long for me to care,” I murmured, my eyes not leaving the novel I was reading. It was already eight o’clock and I hadn’t even changed out of my home clothes yet.

  “What time are you supposed to be there?”

  “Mm…eight, I think.” I was having a hard time listening to what my mom was saying while reading.

  “Eight! You should be getting ready as we speak!” she scolded m
e when I didn’t make any move to get up. My mom had always been a punctual person. And although it wasn’t a bad trait, it was kind of annoying when I got tangled up along with it.

  “Maybe later…”

  “Seven!”

  “Alright, alright,” I said irritably, closing Eleanor & Park with two fingers and jumping off the couch. I headed upstairs, entered my bedroom, and quickly scanned through my wardrobe. I hadn’t shopped in a while, and even though none of the clothes I had right then were that hideous, I still felt like it wasn’t enough for the party I imagined in my head.

  There would certainly be dancing, so I wouldn’t want anything uncomfortable. There would be people I knew and didn’t know, so I wouldn’t want anything revealing. There would be…well, Colin, so I wouldn’t want anything plain.

  I thought back to Maria and the puffy peach blouse she’d been wearing and how Colin seemed to appreciate how it looked on her. Or maybe he was just appreciating the way she swung her butt.

  I stood on my tiptoes and reached up to take the hanger of a dress that caught my eye. It was a preppy sleeveless bowknot dress, the color of old rose.

  Now that I thought about it, Colin had never seen me in a dress.

  I kicked the cabinet door shut and bent down to grab my black Keds. After quickly slipping into the clothes, spraying just a hint of powdery perfume and applying lip-gloss, I was ready. I ran my fingers through my hair and gathered it into a bun. I looked at my reflection in the mirror one last time before taking my phone, which had beeped with a message from Tracy, who’d promised me a ride to the party.

  Outside, I heard the sound of a car horn. I hurried out of the room and down the stairs. “Mom, I’m leaving,” I informed her once I’d hopped off the last step.

  My mom walked out of the kitchen, wiping a plate with a dishtowel. She leaned towards me and kissed me on the crown of my head. “Alright, take care. Be back by eleven.”

  Once I’d slammed the front door shut, I locked it and hurried to Tracy’s red Toyota. I swung the passenger door open and slipped in. Piano keys were playing, resonating from her speakers. “Hey, Trace,” I greeted her with a smile.

  Tracy serenaded in a way of greeting me, her face crumpling as she sang. I laughed at her antics, recognizing the song. It was about a man telling his son that love will only bring him pain. An electric guitar joined the party, making me tap my foot on the car floor. As Tracy put her car into motion, slowly making its way out of my neighborhood, we both took deep breaths and belted out the lyrics.