The Black Notebook

by Isabelle Snow

  “Colin,” Candice said, her eyes flicking towards his direction, an implied warning.

  Beside him, I saw Cass take his hand and squeeze. Mrs. Stillman, however, remained quiet and as still as a statue.

  Colin ignored his sisters as he pushed back his chair and got up to his feet. “Excuse me,” he said, turning away from the table and heading towards the stairs. He jogged up the steps and disappeared around the corner.

  After a little while, my mom laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension. “I’m sure he’ll be back. He probably just went to the bathroom or something.”

  Nobody paid her any attention.

  Candice sighed and turned to her father. “Dad,” she said, “you shouldn’t have done that. You just made him angrier.”

  Her father resumed his eating as if nothing had just happened in the past minute. “That boy should learn to respect his father. No matter what has happened, he’s still—”

  “That’s stupid,” I blurted out.

  Everyone looked over at me with surprise. Mr. Stillman was stunned. “What did you say?” he asked.

  I looked up, gathering my courage and meeting his eyes. I took a deep breath. “I said that’s stupid. Colin’s not like that. Although he pulls a lot of pranks on people, he’s really sweet and kind. It’s not his fault if girls fawn over him because of that. And he has every right to turn them down.

  “Besides, the only time I saw him speak so frankly to the point of insulting was when the person he’s talking to deserved it. I have no idea what you could’ve done, sir, to deserve his anger, but it must’ve been horrible if you could make the guy who smiles the brightest that mad.”

  I stood up, ready to do my own walkout, but stopped. “Oh, and to be completely honest,” I added, “I wouldn’t have given my respect to someone who says slanderous things about his son and who makes him look like a terrible person either.”

  I turned away and walked determinedly towards the kitchen. I didn’t bother looking for Colin. He probably wouldn’t be in the best of moods and I didn’t want to know if he’d be patient enough to tolerate my presence or not.

  “I’m going to get dessert,” I announced, even though we’d only touched half of the food. My mom immediately stood up, excusing herself to help me, but Candice put a hand on her arm and said, “It’s okay, Mrs. Warrilow. I’ll help her.”

  For once, my mom didn’t argue.

  Even with my back turned, I knew Candice was following me into the kitchen by the sound of her heels on the floor. I also knew that what I just said was rude, especially since it was concerning another family fight that I had no part whatsoever in, but I didn’t care—at least not at that moment.

  What I didn’t know was that Colin Stillman didn’t actually go up the stairs to go to the bathroom or something, like we thought he did. He was just sitting on one of the steps, hiding and listening to every word we’d said, which included every word I’d just said.

  And in the darkness where no one could see him, he smiled.

  Entry 15: Truths and Realization

  Date: April 7, 2013

  I headed straight for the refrigerator, where I knew my mom had left our dessert.

  I opened the door with a tug and as I reached in to grab the relatively huge glass bowl of fruit cocktail, the sound of Candice’s footfalls abruptly stopped. I could feel her eyes on me as she stood just a few feet away.

  “Look,” I said without facing her, “I know, I should have just minded my own business and kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry I said those things to your dad.” I paused. “I just…couldn’t stand the fact that he was saying those things about Colin when they aren’t true.”

  Are they? Another part of me wondered. How much do you really know about Colin? Remember: he was willing to kiss Kiera during the game. He already kissed you and you’re not even entirely sure of his intentions. He’s probably not as noble as you think.

  I shook my head and carried the fruit cocktail out, placing it on the counter. I closed the refrigerator and went to fetch some bowls.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Seven,” Candice said, “because all the things you said…” She took a deep breath. “They’re true.”

  I twisted around to look at her. She was leaning her shoulder against the kitchen’s doorframe, hugging her elbows as she did. “My dad…” she began, “he did…things that you could say left our family scarred.” Her face scrunched up in shame and I could clearly see that she was still hesitant about sharing more.

  “You don’t have to tell me, you know,” I said, even though I really wanted her to.

  She shook her head slowly, her red hair moving gracefully in waves. “No, I can see that you really care about my brother, and for that, I think you deserve to know.”

  She looked up at me, her green eyes determined and honest. “Colin was just a little boy—maybe five or six years old—when dad started becoming a drunk. I never really noticed when it all began. I was twelve and was caught up in my own world, but I can’t deny that the signs were all there.

  “He would come home really late at night, easily annoyed and reeking of alcohol. Sometimes he didn’t even sleep in the same bed as Mom. He would sleep on the couch, too drunk to work his way up the stairs. And then the next few times he wouldn’t even come home anymore and we’d just get a call the next day saying that he stayed over at a friend’s place because he was too drunk to drive. Mom would tell him to stop drinking and he’d promise not to do it again, but nothing changed.

  “And then one day, Dad forgot to bring his phone when he left in a hurry for work. It beeped with a text and when Mom checked it out, she saw that it was from a woman. She didn’t tell me exactly what the message said but it basically implied that the woman wanted to meet up again with her ‘babe’.” Candice shuddered at the memory.

  My eyes widened as I listened. Colin had already told me before that his dad was a drunk, which was why he only took a few sips that surely wouldn’t get him drunk. But he didn’t say anything about this.

  “Anyway,” Candice continued, “Mom didn’t want to believe it at first. She always gave people the benefit of the doubt. But what would you expect? He’d been so sweet for the past few days, even coming home sober, and she was pregnant with Cass, for crying out loud.” I could see the disgust written all over her face as she spoke. “So she headed out to Dad’s workplace to give him his phone. The secretary said that he was out, but Mom decided to leave his phone in his office for him to find later. When she entered his office, though, she knew then that the secretary had lied for him. He wasn’t out. He was too busy kissing another woman. Mom told me afterwards that they had already done…other things worse than that.

  “Dad felt really awful after that. I can say that he really loved Mom, but he just felt like they were lacking in intimacy. Mom explained to me that because she was too busy with the little bakery shop she started, they didn’t have time for it. She also told me that he just wanted to rekindle the fire, but then she got pregnant with Cass and there was no way around that, so he went to seek other outlets.

  “But,” she said gravely, “the one who was most affected by it all was Colin. He was always so close to Mom and he was so young…but not too young that he couldn’t understand that there was something wrong going on between his parents. Whenever Mom and Dad argued, he would cry and cry and I had to take him away to my room, let him listen to my music and pat his back until he fell asleep. This went on for a while until he just stopped crying.”

  Candice paused, staring blankly at the floor. Her mind was obviously elsewhere.

  My heart ached at the thought of a young Colin experiencing all that. My own parents were in love, just as his once were, and I couldn’t—can’t—imagine them ever splitting up or turning to other partners. They were my very basis for true love.

  “And then?” I asked. “What happened next?”

  She swallowed. “And then I don’t know. It’s
like…he just snapped. He stopped caring, stopped taking things seriously. He keeps pushing Dad to the edge, which is probably why Dad said all of those things,” she said, gesturing to the dining table where I could hear low voices talking. “He’s had enough of Colin’s attitude, but you’re right, he deserved it.”

  Candice didn’t say any more and I didn’t press her. Although I wasn’t the one who had experienced all of that, I understood how hard it must be to tell someone you’ve met only twice about your family’s not-so-pleasant past.

  “I don’t think he stopped caring,” I said quietly. “I mean, he obviously still cares about you, Cass and your mom.”

  “I know Colin loves us. I think he even loves Dad, despite how he’s doing everything he can just to spite him. Dad, after all, was the one who taught him how to play basketball, the one who bought him his first toy car,” she said. “But…I don’t know about what Dad said concerning his girlfriends. Colin seems to take you as his girlfriend seriously.”

  No, I thought. It’s just because you don’t know. We’re not even really together. I remembered the conversation I had with him at the party. So what happened? I’d asked.

  She became my ex.

  What, just like that?

  It wasn’t exactly a love match.

  “I appreciate the fact that you told me all this, even though you really didn’t have to,” I said, “but I just have one question.”

  “Shoot,” she said, smiling wryly.

  “Why did your mom stay with him?” I asked, turning away to look for some teaspoons, “After what he did?”

  She shrugged. “She loves him. She loves him even if he’s a cheat, even if he’s so immature that he would want to get back at his own son for disrespecting him after all these years. I guess that’s the sad thing about love. You can’t love someone without the inevitable possibility of getting hurt.”

  From the dining table, my mom called out, “Hey, what’s taking you girls so long?”

  “We were just looking for the bowls,” Candice replied. She took the bowls I’d left on the counter and the teaspoons from my hand. She started to turn away, but stopped. She looked back at me. “But you know, Seven, I’m glad you’re with Colin now.”

  I tilted my head to the side and asked, “Why?”

  She smiled. “Because I think he’s starting to take some things seriously now.”

  I wanted to ask her what she meant by that but she was already walking away.

  I shook my head at myself and moved to carry the bowl of fruit cocktail. It was pretty heavy for a dessert, and I struggled with it as I edged out of the kitchen and its narrow entrance. I stumbled a bit and it nearly slipped out of my grasp. But just in time, Colin appeared from the stairs. The moment he saw me, he immediately strode over and caught the bowl, his hands covering mine.

  I looked up in surprise and found him grinning down at me. “Careful now,” he said, taking the whole thing from me and easily carrying it with one arm, “wouldn’t want to ruin your dress. You look extra pretty in it.”

  I blinked rapidly at him. I was too confused to take in his compliment. “You, uh…seem to be in a really good mood.” Wasn’t he fuming just minutes ago?

  “Yeah…isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?” he asked, winking at me.

  “Well, I guess so but—”

  “Hey, no buts,” he said, cutting me off. He took a step towards me and brought his lips to mine.

  My face probably went a little like: ?!?!?!

  It didn’t last that long though, and he eventually pulled away. When he did, he smiled down at me.

  “Aw, you two are so adorable,” a voice said.

  I whipped around to see his mom looking over at us. She was helping Candice distribute the bowls and teaspoons, while the entire table—except for Mr. Stillman—watched us.

  I blushed. Why is it that people always catch Colin kissing me? I thought frustratingly. Colin didn’t seem to mind, though. He just smiled at his family (although I bet he pretended he couldn’t see his father) and walked over to place the fruit cocktail at the center of the table.

  I watched him as he moved. I still couldn’t believe his mood could change so quickly. What did he do when he’d gone upstairs? What could’ve made him this happy? And what was that kiss for, all of a sudden?

  Maybe he had a bipolar disorder that Candice forgot to mention…

  I shook my head and stepped towards the dining table to join them for dessert, but my eyes found their way to Mr. Stillman who was sitting up straight, reaching for his bowl of fruit cocktail, and I stopped.

  I bit my lip. Now that I knew the reason behind Mr. Stillman’s earlier spitefulness, I didn’t feel up to sitting a foot or less away from the guy, especially after basically calling him a terrible person who deserved his son’s anger.

  I stayed right there, just a few ways away from Mr. Stillman’s peripheral vision, and cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me,” I said to everyone, “I’m sorry but I think I’ll just be skipping dessert.”

  My mom’s head snapped up, looking very much ready to answer me with a big fat NO. It was understandable if she wanted me to stay and entertain the guests, seeing as those guests were the family of my supposed boyfriend.

  But just as she opened her mouth to reply, Colin piped up, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Warrilow.” He took a step forward so that he was right beside me and smoothly draped an arm over my shoulders. He nuzzled his cheek affectionately against my hair. “I’ll take good care of her. I’ll make sure she won’t go wandering off somewhere.”

  I managed a scowl. “Hey, I’m not a kid! And do I really need to remind you that this is my home?”

  Colin’s mom looked like she wanted to squeal, like she was watching a romance movie, but she held it back pretty well and instead said, “Of course, you two should have your time together.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Candice smiling knowingly at me.

  Someone, help me, I thought.

  I glanced briefly towards my mom. She was smiling. “Thank you, Colin,” she said, “I’ll be more assured knowing you’ll be with her.” She chuckled softly behind her hand.

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” I whined. Colin laughed and we started to leave, but my dad called after us, “Doors are to be left open, am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” Colin said, raising a hand to his forehead in mock-salute. I dragged a hand down my face.

  We turned away from the dining table and quickly headed for the stairs. When we took the first step up, Colin must’ve realized that he still had his arm around my shoulders because he murmured, “Sorry,” and removed it.

  You don’t need to be sorry, I wanted to say, feeling a little disappointed and cold without the reassuring weight of his arm.

  We climbed the stairs in a silent trek, and after a minute, he said, “So, um, a while ago…”

  “Yeah?”

  “A while ago, you told them that you want to be a lawyer. I thought you were still indecisive about that.”

  My mind travelled back, recalling the conversation. I couldn’t understand why Colin had developed a sudden interest in that. What did it matter if I told other people that I wanted to be a lawyer?

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I still am.”

  He frowned, confusion etched on his face. “Why didn’t you just tell them that?”

  I thought about it, trying to form an answer but I ended up shrugging. “Honestly, I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess if I do reach a decision, I’d tell them anyway, so it doesn’t matter if they don’t know that I’m struggling with choosing now…” I paused and then shrugged again. “I normally don’t tell my insecurities to just anybody.”

  I expected him to tease me about being secretive, but instead he grinned. “But you told me,” he said.

  I looked up into his eyes and found an implied message there. I blushed uncontrollably and narrowed my eyes at him. “And what’s your point?”


  “Oh, nothing,” he said, sounding particularly in a good mood, maybe in an even better one than he already was.

  After a few more steps, we reached the second floor. I led the way to my room, but Colin suddenly stopped in front of a family portrait that Mom had nailed to the wall.

  “Seven, is that you?” he asked incredulously, jabbing a finger at my face in the portrait.

  I frowned. In the picture I was still around the age of eight with long hair that fell unattractively straight on either side of my face. My mom had insisted on braiding it into pigtails before the shot was taken, and it was obvious that my eight-year-old self wasn’t pleased with them.

  “Unless I have a twin sister who hides within the walls of this house and only comes out during family photo shoots, then yeah,” I said, “that’s me.”

  Colin rolled his eyes at me. “No need to be sarcastic. You actually look cute here.” He chuckled. “This is so rich. I’ve got to take a picture of this.” He started pulling his phone out of his pocket, but I immediately grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

  “Just leave it alone, will ya?” I said, glaring at him as I nudged my bedroom door open.

  He dropped the pursuit for the photo and walked in, taking in his surroundings. He crossed his arms and said, “You know, it’s really unfair how you always sneak into my room and find your way to my house, while I’ve only been here once. And at that time, I was being kidnapped.”

  “Well, you brought it upon yourself, you know,” I said. “If you just gave back the black notebook early on, none of that would’ve happened—”

  “—and we wouldn’t be here, in your room, talking about it,” he finished for me. “We also wouldn’t have had all those fun times when I outsmarted your little plans.”