When I got downtown, I bought some barrettes and sweet-smelling hand lotion at the drugstore. Then I got hungry, so I went next door to the ice cream shop and got an ice cream sundae. This time I got marshmallow sauce instead of whipped cream. It’s the same price, and I thought it would be a nice change. And it was!
Then, I went back to the drugstore. Next I looked at the makeup. The store downtown has two aisles filled with lipstick, mascara, nail polish, and lots of other things that I see my teacher, my mom, and other women wear. I wonder when I should start wearing these things? Maybe next time I’m in town, I should buy some mascara instead of a sundae.
Drugstores are great because there are so many things to look at and buy in them. If you get tired looking in one aisle, you can always find another aisle to wander down. I think I spent a good half hour just wandering around the store. And if you have to go to the bathroom, there’s one right there, too. But I kept thinking about the makeup and have decided I’ll buy some the next time I’m there.
The same bus driver was at the wheel when I got on the bus to go back home. It made me happy to see him again. I’m so glad I can do things by myself. I feel so grown-up when I do.
I don’t think grown-ups understand how important it is to do things on your own and not be treated like a baby. I am smart and I have a brain. I’m lucky my mom and dad let me do a lot on my own—have a Facebook page, travel downtown by myself, help cook, etc. I have a friend named Shannon. Her parents are very rich, but she never gets to go downtown by herself. She can’t believe that my parents let me! Shannon and her family live on my street, but they are moving away next month to a house with ten rooms! Her mom drives her everywhere, but I feel sorry for her. She doesn’t seem very happy.
The truth is parents should let their kids do things for themselves when they are old enough.
Date: November 7
Dear Diary,
My brother and I had to go sleep at my cousin Larry’s house last night. My parents had to go out to some sort of dinner event for Dad’s work. Instead of getting a babysitter (or letting me stay with my brother at home alone), they think it’s easiest to just leave us with Aunt June and Uncle Joe. But I really don’t like being at their house, especially if Larry is home. He teases me, won’t share his computer, and is not very nice. I don’t know why he thinks he can tease me just because I’m six years younger than he is.
Once, when I was younger, Larry told me that my spaghetti was really worms. I almost threw up. He can be a jerk sometimes.
The good news was that he was out late at a basketball game. We didn’t even see him except at breakfast and then he tried to trip me as I walked by him. He is so stupid and childish.
My brother and I fell asleep in the basement bedroom with the TV on. That was fun. We shared a big old double bed they keep down there. Aunt June made us popcorn and let us eat it in bed. I loved cuddling up next to my brother and munching popcorn.
Today, I asked my mom why Larry is so annoying and mean to me. My mom said, “Maybe he’s that way because he doesn’t get enough attention from his parents.”
I really don’t care why he’s that way, to be honest. He shouldn’t make fun of me and try to trip me when I walk by him. It’s not right.
Date: November 10
Dear Diary,
There is a secret thing I do with my body. I can’t help it. It feels so good.
I get a lot of scabs on my knees from rollerblading and falling a lot. In the beginning, the scab is really hard and sticks to my skin for a long time. But the day comes when it starts to feel a little loose, and that’s when I can’t stop checking it. I’m waiting for just the right day when the scab is almost ready to fall off. That’s the day I pick it, and I love that feeling as it comes off my skin.
My brother says this is gross. But it’s the truth! I really like that feeling.
And here’s a secret about when I grow up: I am going to have two monkeys, two horses, two dogs, two cats, and two birds. Oh, and I forgot, six kids.
But right now, I just want a dog. Mom and Dad said no, but I’m going to keep trying to badger them until they have to say yes.
Date: November 14
Dear Diary,
I think I just solved another mystery in a Nancy Drew book. I’ll finish the book later. I’m so glad the librarian at school, Miss Manning, suggested Nancy Drew to me. At first, the books looked kind of old-fashioned and not as exciting as the other vampire series and fantasy series my friends like to read. But once I read the first Nancy Drew mystery, I realized how exciting they are. I just love how smart she is, and I’ve realized that I like trying to solve the mysteries, too—and I’m actually pretty good at it. This book makes twenty-seven Nancy Drew mysteries that I’ve read in my whole life. I think that’s pretty cool.
Whenever I read these mysteries, I remind myself that I am smart! Most of the time, I solve the mystery way before the end of the book—but I still like to see how Nancy figures it out. She has such a cool life in these books.
I’d like to have a life like hers when I’m seventeen. She gets to do all sorts of stuff by herself. She has a great boyfriend. He is handsome and in love with her. And she has a maid! The maid makes such good food and Nancy is always dressed in such pretty clothing. I think having a maid might be a little bit overkill, but I would like to eat fancy food and wear beautiful clothes every day.
I’ve decided that being smart and pretty are important to me.
Date: November 18
Dear Diary,
I don’t always think I’m pretty. I don’t look like the movie stars I see online, or the girls in the teen magazines. When I stand next to my cousin Sandra, I don’t feel pretty at all. She has perfect everything (hair, face, clothes), and it isn’t fair. Once we had a picture taken together. There Sandra was with perfect bangs, shiny hair, a wide movie-star smile, and straight posture. And there I was with messy hair and a slanted smile, and I was not standing up straight at all. I felt a little jealous of Sandra. My aunt printed out a copy for each of us to keep, but I didn’t keep mine. I ripped it up when I got home.
Mom told me she thought I looked cute in the picture when she checked her email on her cell phone. I didn't really answer, and she went right on to her next email.
Sometimes I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and look at myself. When I do that, I feel pretty. I have dirty blond hair and brown eyes. My teeth are a little crooked and I have a space between my top two front teeth, but my mom says that makes my smile interesting. I also think I have nice hands. They look good in the mirror, too. Sometimes I hold up my hands in the mirror, like I’m in a commercial selling nail polish. I just kind of smile at myself and hold my hand up so the nails show and my eyes shine. Then I move my hand a little, like models do on TV. I really feel special when I’m doing this.
I like looking at myself when I’m alone. That’s when I feel the most pretty.
Date: November 20
Dear Diary,
The past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about looks and I’ve decided something: the most important thing you can do is to feel pretty. If you feel pretty, then you look pretty. That is the truth for me.
After weeks and weeks of pining away for him, today Paul looked right at me. He made me feel really good about myself—really pretty—when he did that. And then he smiled. He was wearing a green sweater. I wish I could hug him and hold hands with him like we were really a couple.
I think I’m in love with him even more now. I just wish I knew what to do about it. Should I tell him I am in love with him? What if he just walks away from me or looks confused? I would die of embarrassment. Maybe it’s time to tell Angela about my feelings. I have wanted to a hundred times, but then I get cold feet. She might think I am silly. I’ve got to figure out something.
That’s it. I’m going to call her now before I lose the nerve to do it. I just hope she doesn’t make fun of me for liking a boy.
Date: November 21
&
nbsp; Dear Diary,
Angela was really nice to me when I told her about my crush on Paul and how much I am in love with him. She told me that she actually has a crush on Greg and might be in love with him, too. We laughed a lot on the phone until my dad made me hang up and go to bed. I’m so happy that Angela knows my secret. Maybe we can figure out what to do about our crushes together.
Today, I was bored in math class, so I started to think about the million ways I know to have fun: hanging out with friends, shopping for clothes, playing games online, taking pictures in photo booths, rollerblading. But one way not to have fun is to be picked last for kickball! That makes me feel rotten. I hate standing there on the playground, knowing that each time a name is called I’m closer to being the last person picked for a team. And it’s all Chris and Billy’s fault, really. The teacher always picks them as the team captains, though I don’t know why. I see the gleam in their eyes as they size up who the good players are. They are so mean. Don’t they ever think about how I feel, standing there with fewer and fewer kids to protect me from the truth that I can’t kick the ball so well? I know I’m not the best player, but sometimes it would be nice to be picked first—or at least near the beginning. I hate them.
Sometimes I just want to quit school and become a sales person in the toy department of a department store. But Mom says I can’t quit school—that it’s against the law, in fact. You have to be at least sixteen before you can leave school. And if I’m really honest, I think that by that time, maybe I’ll have forgotten all about kickball.
Date: November 22
Dear Diary,
We played kickball again today and again, Billy and Chris picked everyone else before me. I was left alone on Chris’s team this time, and I saw him roll his eyes when he saw that I would have to be on his team. I guess it’s a good thing I have ways to have fun that don’t depend on mean kids like Billy and Chris.
I have lots of fun when I pedal really fast on my bike downhill. When I do that, I stand up on the pedals and my hair blows behind me. I imagine I’m a circus rider standing up on her horse, except I’m on a bike.
I rollerblade, too. I can rollerblade for a long time, even longer than I ride my bike. I love the sensation of gliding down the street. I feel like a figure skater.
But the best thing in the whole world, whether I rollerblade or ride my bike, is the feeling I get when I finish. If I’m not in a rush to get inside for dinner or something, I take a moment to sit down on the curb and smell the skin on my arms. I love the smell after all that exercise. It smells like fresh earth. Sometimes I even lick it. It tastes nice and salty. Of course, this is my secret. Kids would probably make fun of me if they knew the truth about licking my sweaty skin.
Date: December 1
Dear Diary,
Last night my parents had a big fight. I could sort of hear what they were saying through the wall of my room. My eyes were shut tight, but my ears were wide open, like elephant ears, trying to hear every word. I couldn’t, but they made me nervous and I couldn’t sleep. So today in school I was really tired.
This morning I asked my brother if he heard anything last night, and he said no. But that doesn’t surprise me. He is only six and sleeps like a log. I’m the one that ends up staying up late, worrying about my parents’ fighting, with my heart pounding so loudly that I keep thinking it is going to pop out of my chest.
Mom and Dad are the grown-ups. They shouldn’t have stupid fights that keep their daughter awake. And anyway, fighting never seems to solve anything, and even Mom told me that fighting isn’t a good way to handle your problems. No one feels better after being yelled at or put down. No one is going to cooperate any better just because you yell at them and tell them all the things they do are wrong. Even I know that!
And besides, they ruined my sleep. I thought parents were supposed to make sure their kids got lots of rest, so we can grow. I don’t think it’s nice of them to keep me awake. I should be fast asleep in bed, having sweet dreams. That’s another thing I know.
I could teach my mom and dad so much if only they would listen. Why do they seem to want to put each other down? I don’t get it. They waste so much time fighting, and before you know it, everyone’s feeling sad or angry and the day (or night) is ruined.
This is one thing I’m really promising myself never to do! My dad says, “Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.” Well, even though he forgets his own words, I’m going to remember them. I’m going to try to never fight over stupid things. I will talk about my problems and try not to yell. And that’s the truth.
Date: December 5
Dear Diary,
It’s official. I hate Angela.
She just told me that her parents are buying a new business in upstate New York and that she’ll be moving soon. Well, as far as I’m concerned, the sooner it happens the better. Yesterday she had the nerve to sit next to Paul in art even though there were other empty seats in the room. She kept laughing and talking to him, when she knows how much I love him and want to ask him to be my boyfriend. How could she do that to me? We’re supposed to be best friends! The whole day in school I had to watch her flirt with him, and I felt like I was dying.
I said something to her at lunch, and she acted all innocent, saying, “What are you talking about? We were just talking about the science project.” But I know she’s lying. She was flirting with him and is no longer my best friend. Maybe I’ll de-friend her tonight if she leaves the room when I’m on her computer.
Date: December 9
Dear Diary,
Paul has been absent for three days. I hope he’s not really sick. I miss him so much and each day keep hoping he’ll be at his desk when I enter the classroom.
I keep thinking about the hill behind his house. Before Angela started flirting with Paul—before I stopped liking her—she told me that kids go there and play Spin the Bottle. Angela knows everything. The land used to be a place for the Boy Scouts to have outdoor meetings and make a campfire and toast marshmallows. Now Angela said certain kids sit in a circle around where the fire used to be and spin the bottle and kiss each other.
I wonder if Paul knows what goes on up there in the woods behind his house? I wish Paul, me, and the other kids from class could play Spin the Bottle so I could get the chance to show Paul how much I like him.
On second thought, no, I don’t. I don’t want anyone else to get a chance to kiss him but me.
Date: December 10
Dear Diary,
Gloria is in my dance class. And I hate her. I hate her because her teeth are straight, so she’ll never need braces. That isn’t fair! Also, her thighs are slimmer than mine and don’t have little puckers on them. I hate my puckers. This summer at the beach, my mom told me to just hold my stomach in and no one will notice my legs. But that is not the truth!
The truth is Gloria has nicer legs and she knows it. During our class, she does turns easily, like a real ballerina. And her legs look perfect. Who wouldn’t be able to turn so well with those legs? I guess she’ll grow up to be a great dancer. I’m sure I won’t. I don’t turn half as well and my legs are not nearly as long and perfect.
I think I’ll trip her by accident when she walks by me the next time in school when I just happen to be stretching my leg as she walks by my desk.
Date: December 16
Dear Diary,
Sometimes, on the weekend, I like to put on fashion shows in front of the bathroom mirror. I get out some of my mom’s clothes and model them like the real models I’ve seen on the TV or online. Of course, I make sure my mom isn’t home when I do this. She’s probably tell me I was being vain, whatever that means.
Yesterday, I took Mom’s beautiful violet velvet dress with the blue Chinese silk shawl that our cousin brought her from her trip to China and snuck into the bathroom. I put on her high heels and her dangling earrings, the ones she told me Dad gave her the day I was born. Then I walked around in front of the mirror like I was a princess. I smil
ed at myself in the mirror and nodded a little, saying hello to the crowd I imagined would be taking photos and asking for my autograph. It felt so good.
So far my mom doesn’t know that I’m taking her things because I’m always careful to put them back exactly where I find them. I don’t think she’d like me rummaging through her stuff very much. I know I’d be mad at her if she did that to me, but I can’t help it. Sometimes I just like to pretend that I’m someone special.
Date: January 10
Dear Diary,
Today it was raining outside, and I had nothing to do. I got out my old fairy-tale books. I used to read them all the time, but now I only do so once in a while. As I flipped through the tattered pages, I wondered what it would have been like to be Sleeping Beauty. What would it feel like to be asleep so long and then finally be awakened by a prince’s kiss? If I were asleep like that, would Paul come along and kiss me? Would he come on a white horse and scoop me up and throw me on the back of the horse and take me to his palace? Would we head deep into an enchanted forest and then he would love me forever? What if he never came? Could I wake myself up? I sure hope so.
My mother is really good at pretending to listen. But I can always tell that she isn’t really paying attention. She either looks away or suddenly remembers something that she has to do in another room.
The Truth Page 2
