The Black Notebook

by Isabelle Snow

  There were a couple of students hanging out in the lot, sitting on the hood of their cars and listening to music or just about to get into their cars, and as we strolled past them, their glances turned into stares and their chattering turned into murmurs.

  I refused to show that I was bothered by it, but the moment I slid into Colin’s car and slammed the door shut, I blurted, “They were all staring at us.”

  He looked up and squinted through the windshield, as if only realizing it. “Huh. You’re right.” He shrugged as he shoved the key into the ignition and started up the engine. “I wouldn’t mind them if I were you. They always assume the worse when they don’t know the full story.” He turned to me. “Are you okay with all of this? Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to meet up with me…”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, shaking my head. “I can take it.”

  “If you’re sure…” he trailed off hesitantly as he eased the car out of the parking space. He expertly maneuvered it around the lot until we were finally away from those prying eyes.

  We didn’t talk at first during the drive. Since I’d given up trying to retrieve the black notebook, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t know about Colin, but I was feeling a little awkward, like I was supposed to fill in the silent and blank atmosphere or something.

  We pulled to a stop because of some traffic lights, and that was when Colin broke the tension and asked me about my day. I wasn’t used to this civil, friendly exchange we were having, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like it.

  Thankfully, I was able to relax after talking. If I’d said too much, he didn’t complain; he listened the entire time, nodding occasionally, laughing at some points and inserting his own humorous comments. We went on like this, just talking, and the car ride seemed all too short.

  Soon, we reached his place. His mom was preparing some ham and cheese sandwiches when we barged into the living room.

  “I’m home, Mom,” Colin announced, pocketing his keys and throwing his backpack at the couch. He told me to sit anywhere I liked and went off to the kitchen to find his mother. I tentatively sat down on the white couch, feeling the leathery texture with the tips of my fingers.

  A minute later, Colin came back in carrying a tray that held a plate of sandwiches and some juice. His mom was right at his heels and she greeted me the moment she laid eyes on me. “It’s good to see you again, dear!” she said, moving to give me a firm hug.

  I hugged her back, inhaling the scent of her musky perfume. “You too, Mrs. Stillman,” I said, smiling. “So, Colin said you wanted to give something to me?”

  She snapped her slender fingers, her coral-colored fingernails glistening with the light. “That’s right! Just wait right here—eat some sandwiches—and I’ll be back.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

  I looked over at the sandwiches, one of them already in Colin’s stomach and another in his mouth. I watched him with a cocked eyebrow as he finished it off in a few bites. “What?” he asked defensively, his words muffled by the sandwich. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”

  I bit my lip, wanting to argue, but I ended up reaching for a sandwich anyway. Colin laughed as I gingerly nibbled on it, and handed me a glass of orange juice. “Here you go.”

  Mrs. Stillman noticeably took a while longer than I expected to get whatever it she was going to give me, to the point that Cass already came home from school and she still didn’t return.

  Cass strolled into the room, holding her bag by the crook of her elbow and sifting through a handful of envelopes. “Colin Stillman, you are such a coward,” she said without looking up. “You said you would take Seven out on a date but you’re here and—oh, hi Seven!”

  I grinned at her. “Nice to see you too, Cass.”

  She gave Colin an apologetic shrug, but he just glared at her, savaging the sandwich in his hand with his teeth.

  Cass cleared her throat. “I, uh, saw your car and thought you didn’t—”

  “Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “Right,” she said awkwardly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Well, I’m just going to leave these here,” she slipped out two envelopes from the pile in her hands and dumped the rest on the coffee table, “and I’ll be up in my room if you need me.”

  “I assure you we won’t,” Colin mumbled under his breath.

  Without another word, she dashed up the stairs and to her room. From where I was sitting, I could see lavender wallpaper and a shelf of stuffed toys through the opened door. When she slammed it shut, my eyes drifted over to the bathroom door, firmly closed. And then I glanced at the door beside it—Colin’s room.

  It was half-open, allowing me a tiny peek of his walls covered in paper and graphite and artistry. It beckoned to me, luring me to take the chance.

  I ripped my attention away from his bedroom door just as Mrs. Stillman returned. She smiled as she approached, holding a neatly folded paper. “I looked through my mother’s old recipe books,” she told me as she handed the paper to me, “and found a lot of great meals your mother can try making. She’s a fantastic cook and I’d be really glad to share ideas and recipes with her. I left my phone number in here if she wants to contact me. Will you please give this to her?”

  “Yeah, it won’t be a problem,” I assured her, stuffing the paper in a small pocket inside my bag.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said, smiling down at me. She gestured at Colin and me. “So are the two of you planning on going out?”

  I looked back at him. “Are we?”

  “Sure, why not?” he shrugged, dusting off the breadcrumbs on his hands. His mom frowned at him and planted her hands on her hips but Colin pretended he couldn’t feel the heat of her gaze. “Let’s go?”

  “Um,” I cast one more glance at his bedroom door, left ajar, almost like it was just for me. “I…have to use the bathroom first.”

  “It’s upstairs,” Mrs. Stillman informed me, before turning to her son. “And Colin, while you’re out, please take Lassie with you.”

  “Mom,” I heard him say as I made my way up the stairs. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No, I’m not. Just because you’re going on a date doesn’t mean you can going to shrug off your responsibilities…” Her voice faded into silence as mother and son left the living room.

  I stared at Colin’s bedroom door. Just walk away, I told myself. Give it up. You’ll never get it back. I knew it was the truth, but I reasoned that the black notebook could be right there, waiting for me to grab it and go. I couldn’t just let this opportunity escape from me. Not again.

  I sneaked one last peek downstairs to be sure that Colin and his mom were gone before walking determinedly towards Colin’s room. I was just passing by the bathroom when I heard the toilet flush and then the door swung open.

  My heart leapt up to my throat and I whirled around to see who it was.

  Mr. Stillman froze at the door of the bathroom, his green eyes settling on me. He was obviously surprised to see me in his home again so soon after I’d said those things to him and for a moment we stayed absolutely still.

  And then he blinked and cleared his throat. “Hello, Seven.”

  “H-Hi, Mr. Stillman,” I said, bowing my head a little. I shuffled my feet nervously, suddenly fascinated with the wooden floorboards.

  “Are you going to use the bathroom?”

  “What?” I snapped my head up and blinked. “Oh, yeah, I was—I mean, I am…going to use the bathroom. Sorry.”

  Mr. Stillman moved out of the way and I had no choice but to step inside the cool tiled room. Towels hung on the racks and colorful rubber ducks lined the windowsill. A sweet-scented air freshener sat by the toilet. I was about to close the door and spend the next four minutes pretending I was doing my business just so he wouldn’t suspect a thing, when he said, “Wait.”

  I did as he said and looked over my shoulder at him. Mr. Stil
lman seemed different since the last time I saw him. The lines on his face weren’t as hard and there was something about his eyes and the way his shoulder sloped down that told me he was tired. Now he had his lips pursed and his dark eyebrows were on the brink of meeting. He focused his steady gaze on me and I held my breath for what he had to say, but what he came out with was definitely something I would never have expected from him. “Thank you.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “What…are you thanking me for?”

  He sighed, long and heavy, and shook his head. “I knew Colin had always hated me for what I did to his mother and, to be honest, I kind of hate myself too.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “And I knew—no, I thought…I thought he would never forgive me for that, but the thing is, he did.”

  “Colin…” My mind traveled back through time to that video call, that moment I told him to forgive his dad. He really did it, I thought. He listened to me.

  “Colin forgave me,” Mr. Stillman continued, “and I want to thank you, Seven, for telling him to.”

  I knitted my eyebrows together. “How do you know it was me who told him to?”

  He chuckled. The only other time I’d heard him laugh was when he was mocking Colin at the dining table the other night. But this time, it wasn’t full of spite. He actually sounded amused. “Colin said so. He said that he only forgave me because of you.”

  “I…” My tongue was all tied up. No way. He couldn’t have done it just for me.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Seven, so I won’t tell you to do this for me,” he said, grinning a smile that was almost as bright as Colin’s, “but don’t break his heart.”

  He left without waiting for my response and I watched him retreat to the door at the very end of the hall, my mouth opening and closing like fish’s. I shook my head as the door closed behind him and returned to my real mission.

  Don’t break his heart. The words echoed inside my body, ringing in my bones and through every cell. How could I break it if it isn’t even with me? I pushed on the door, opening it a little wider, and slid inside Colin’s room. I calmly paced around the bed, around the things scattered carelessly on the floor, searching with my hands and eyes.

  I found it on his desk, just sitting there among the sketches and scratch papers. I noticed more drawings of that dark haired girl I saw in his sketchpad before, but all I could see was the black notebook right in front of me.

  It stank of a trap.

  I tentatively reached towards it and took it into my hands. I thumbed the pages at the side and ran my palm across the leather cover. I counted from ten backwards in my head and I felt like a little kid, expecting some kind of rocket blast to come after reaching the number one, but there was none. Colin wasn’t around to catch me.

  I glanced back down at the black notebook. I couldn’t believe it. I’d finally got it back.

  I broke into a smile and was about to leaf through it to check if there were any missing pages when a pair of strong, familiar arms went around me, effectively slamming the notebook closed before I could look inside.

  I yelped, unable to move as Colin lowered his mouth to my ear. “What do you think you’re doing?” I could feel his breath at the back of my neck.

  I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to slow down my racing heart. I swallowed before answering, “Taking back what’s mine.”

  In one quick swipe, the black notebook was out of my hands and in Colin’s. He shoved it in his back pocket, way out of my reach, and smirked at me. “No you’re not.”

  My fingers curled into a fist, my nails stabbing my skin. The words were at my throat, on my tongue, ready to lash out at him, to argue and beg for the black notebook just as I’d done for the past few weeks since I’d first lost it. And for a second there, it seemed like Colin was expecting me to snap and bark at him—but just like that, any explosive anger I had in me dissipated.

  I was done. I didn’t want to fight for it anymore.

  I sagged like a deflated balloon, lowering my gaze to the floor so nobody could see the tears welling up in my eyes. If it weren’t for his hand on my arm, I would’ve ran out of the room and never returned.

  “Seven?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry as he peered at my face.

  When I didn’t reply, he pushed my hair back behind my ear and cupped my face, trying to get me to look at him, but I refused to spare him even a glance. If I did, I just might cry.

  “Hey, Col, have you seen Seven? Mom said she was in the bathroom but she’s not—” Cass stumbled into the room, only to take a step back in surprise when she saw me. Obviously not noticing the tension in the air, she laughed. “Get a room!”

  “Technically, we are in one,” Colin said matter-of-factly. From the corner of my eye, I sensed him cast a look in my direction. “You know what, it’s getting crowded in here. Let’s go out.” He clenched his fingers around my forearm, most likely expecting a resistance, but I went along like a lifeless puppet, letting him lead me out of his room and down the stairs.

  Mrs. Stillman was waiting by the living room, holding a red leash meant for Lassie.

  “We’re leaving, Mom,” he said, taking his backpack with one arm, never letting me go. Mrs. Stillman gave him the leash and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Okay, be safe, you two,” she said, waving us off. “Don’t be out too late and make sure to take Seven home!”

  “I will,” he promised as he gently pushed me out of the front door.

  Once he called Lassie out of her doghouse and up to the back of his truck, hooking the leash to her collar, he opened the door for me. While I climbed into the passenger seat, Colin circled around to the driver’s side and jumped behind the wheel. He turned around to look at me and asked, “So, ready to go?”

  No. “Yeah,” I managed to say, my eyes focused straight ahead. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Colin watched me for a few seconds, perhaps contemplating on the sudden monotonous tone I’d adopted, or maybe he was just staring at my face for no apparent reason. But if he noticed anything strange about me, he didn’t say anything.

  He turned away to the front and brought the engine to life. The moment I was certain he wasn’t looking, I hurriedly blinked back my unshed tears. I heard Lassie bark from the back as we pulled out of the driveway.

  When I felt his hand reach for mine across the car seat, I should’ve said something, should’ve pulled away or even told him to stop the car so I could get out. But I didn’t do any of these things.

  Instead I wound my fingers through his and held on tight, even when I already should’ve let him go.

  Entry 18: Fortunate Misfortunes

  Date: April 10, 2013

  “Where are we going, anyway?” I asked when trees with budding leaves flew past us and unfamiliar buildings lined either side of the road.

  Colin sighed, delaying his answer. He kept his hand on the wheel and his eyes on the road, making me wonder if he hadn’t heard me, but the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth proved otherwise.

  “I don’t know, actually,” he said. “I'm just driving around because I need some time to consider a lot of things…and to explore L.A. one last time.”

  I snapped my head towards him. “Hold on, why would it be the last time?”

  He licked his lips, savoring the taste of his words before letting them out. “My dad finally allowed me to study in Chicago.”

  “What? He did?” I asked, dumbfounded. Colin nodded quietly in answer. I leaned back in my seat, feeling suddenly claustrophobic inside his truck.

  He was leaving. Even way back in freshman year when I developed a crush for him, I knew that someday Colin would graduate and leave for college, while I would be left, stuck in high school for one more year. But now that it was staring at me right in the face, I wasn’t sure how to take it. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten to know Colin, if I hadn’t spoken to him and spent all these weeks with him, maybe I could’ve accepted it a little ea
sier.

  But now, I couldn’t imagine going through each day of my senior year without seeing him running down the halls with his friends and joking around in class and making everyone near him laugh.

  I turned to look over at him, biting my lip. “So…are you going?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been dreaming of this since I realized I wanted to be an architect,” he said, shrugging. And then he grinned. “Will you miss me?”

  I opened my mouth, ready to deny it, but he suddenly pulled the car to a stop and leaned towards the dashboard, narrowing his eyes at a certain building. It was large, big enough to occupy a thousand or more people, with tiny fine-line cracks that gave it an abandoned feeling, and was set on a wide-spaced lot with cars surrounding it. The only entrance to it was a pair of double doors.

  “What is that?”

  I squinted at what he was pointing at—a poster—and took in the picture of four men with shoulder-length hair and noticeable tattoos on their arms. Two carried guitars or basses—I could never tell the difference—and one was acting as if he was screaming at a microphone. I read out the words printed below their faces.

  “Fortunate Misfortunes,” I said. “It’s a…band, apparently, and it looks like they’re playing in”—I glanced at the time—“oh, they’re playing right now.”

  “Do you know that band?” he asked.

  “No,” I shook my head. “Do you?”

  With a wicked smile, he said, “Now I do. Come on.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and started to get out of the car.

  “Colin! Where are you going?” I asked, taken aback, but he was already outside. He jogged to my side of the car and opened the door. “Come on. Let’s go see if Fortunate Misfortunes is any good.”

  I took his offered hand and dropped to the ground. “Wait, you have tickets?”

  “Nope,” he said as he removed Lassie’s leash and led her down the truck. He guided her inside the truck and told Lassie to stay still, although with the doors locked and I doubted she’d be going anywhere.