Today, I was trying to talk to her about Paul. I told her I have a crush and his name is Paul. She looked surprised and said something about how young I still am. Then her cell phone rang and she answered. She never came back to talk to me. I am so mad.
I could teach grown-ups so much if only they would listen. Lots of times they pretend to listen and then they answer you, but they haven’t really heard what you said or asked. They think they are off the hook just because they sort of answered you.
But they aren’t off the hook.
Date: January 15
Dear Diary,
Why do my parents have to fight over stupid things? I don’t get it. Before you know it, everyone’s in a bad mood and the day is ruined, like today. Mom and Dad were screaming at each other this morning as my brother and I left to catch the bus. Something about money and my mom being stupid and the checkbook not balancing. I was so glad to leave. So was my brother. We ran to the bus stop. My heart was still pounding on the ride to school.
I remember last summer—there was a day that we never made it to the lake because Dad kept yelling at Mom about a dent in the car and telling her she was stupid for parking the way she did in front of the drugstore. I even heard him say, “Of all the women in the world, I’m married to the stupidest one.”
But I think Mom is smart. I remember it made me feel so sick to hear Dad talk like that to Mom. Then Dad had rushed out of the house and took the car, and Mom went into her bedroom and closed the door. I think she was crying.
I remember standing in the hallway with my brother. Both of us were in our bathing suits. I was sweating and cold at the same time. It was an awful feeling.
Date: February 7
Dear Diary,
I know I am very smart and do you know how I know that? Smart people solve mysteries and add numbers quickly and realize if someone is lying. Like I knew Gloria was lying last week when she told me that I was doing so much better turning in dance class. I know she was just trying to make me feel better, but I also know I’m still the worst in the class. And that’s the truth.
I wish I could be more like the girls I read about in books—like Nancy Drew and others. I know I’m smart, because in many mystery books, I solve the crime or figure out what happened well before it’s revealed in the book. But the girls I read about in books and sometimes online, when we have Internet time at school, seem so smart and have lots of friends and seem really self-confident. I hope that someday—someday soon—I’ll feel like that. I guess I can’t wait to grow up if it only means I can be completely confident in myself.
Sometimes I wish you could talk to me as I am writing to you. I know that’s silly—you are just a diary—but it would be nice to hear what you’d think about all this stuff. It would be cool if we were email pen pals. Then I could write to you and you could write back. Maybe you would be real smart at something too, like solving puzzles or doing Sudoku. I know you can’t answer me, but I just want you to know I wish you could.
Date: February 14
Dear Diary,
Today is Valentine’s Day. I was so worried when I went to school that I wouldn’t get any valentine’s cards. There is nothing worse in the world than not getting enough Valentine’s Day cards.
But this year it’s even worse. Being in love makes Valentine’s Day even worse, I think. All I could think about last night lying in bed was what if Paul doesn’t give me a valentine? How could I stand it?
I worked last night on my valentine’s cards. I made one for each kid in my class. I made Paul’s just a tiny bit bigger than the other’s, though. Only I would know that I had made his special. So it was my secret.
Miss Shannon decorated our classroom so pretty for our Valentine’s Day party. There were hearts pinned up all over the room and she had even put up red and pink streamers. I think she must like Valentine’s Day a lot, even though we still had to do our homework. But, at 2:00 p.m., the class monitor dropped off cupcakes and ice cream and candy. Then we started our Valentine’s Day party. There was a giant box up on the front table with a slot in the top. That’s where we put all of our valentine’s to be delivered.
Angela, Fred, and Stacey got to empty the box and deliver the valentine’s while we all ate our cupcakes and ice cream. And guess what? I got a lot of valentine’s! As they were delivered, I kept looking over at Paul. But he didn’t look back. He was busy eating. I wondered what he could be thinking about and what he would do when he saw my card to him.
Everyone was laughing and having a good time. Even Miss Shannon was smiling as she opened all the valentine’s that we gave her. So I started to open mine. Nothing from Paul. I checked another card. Not from him either. I was feeling a little sick. My heart was pounding.
I got to the last envelope. My heart leapt. It was from Paul! My life was saved. And guess what it read on the front!
It read: “Will you be my Valentine?”
Oh, yes, Paul! I will be your Valentine!
Today was the most perfect, most wonderful day ever!
Date: February 15
Dear Diary,
I was hoping all last night that Paul would treat me differently today, but everything was just the same. Maybe he really didn’t mean that he wanted me to be his Valentine. Maybe he just gave me that to be nice. Maybe all the girls got one from him. Maybe his mom was the one who actually filled them out for him.
I want to go and ask him if he meant what was on the card, but I’m afraid to know what he really thinks, especially if he doesn’t like me like I like him.
Date: March 14
Dear Diary,
I’m so excited. Today in the mail there was a package for me from Aunt Belinda. She lives in Colorado and I hardly ever see her, but she always remembers me. Last year she sent me this diary that I’m writing in now. I wonder what she sent me this year. Since my birthday is still two weeks away, I’m not going to open the package yet. I think I’ll hide it in my underwear drawer. I like to have secrets and I like to solve mysteries, even if I make them up myself!
Now I have a new mystery to solve: “The Mystery of the Unopened Package.”
Date: March 15
Dear Diary,
I thought it might be good to make a list of things I know how to do:
(list not finished)
* I know what to do if I find a lost child.
* I know how to earn money. In the winter, I shovel snow for the Bixsters. They are old. In the summer, I sometimes weed the garden for Mrs. Offen.
* I know how to clean the house (but I hate to do it).
* I know how to do laundry (but I hate to do that too).
* I know how to iron and I like to sometimes, especially if I can watch TV at the same time.
* I know how to knit. I made six scarves last winter and four winter hats. Mrs. Miller taught me, and this year she is going to teach me how to make mittens and maybe a sweater. I’m so excited. I love picking out the wool. And it is so relaxing to knit. And when I want to find a new pattern to try, I am good at Googling that, too.
* I know how to cook grilled cheese and scrambled eggs and how to make pudding.
* I know how to draw pictures of faces. I can also draw horses.
* I know how to get into the house when I forget the back door key. Mom keeps a key on the inside of the door. I have to push it out of the lock onto a piece of newspaper and then wiggle the newspaper under the door until the key slides under the door to the outside.
* I know how to read books that are above my reading level.
* I know how to play the piano and make up music, even though I never took any lessons.
* I know how to help a choking baby or little kid, because I took a special class before I was allowed to babysit.
And here is a list (also not complete) of things I can do really well:
* I can lift my brother and he weighs a lot.
* I can ride my bike for hours and go really fast downhill.
* I can rollerblade a
nd ice skate.
* I can do summersaults and bend over backwards.
* I can dance and make up my own dance moves.
Date: March 16
Dear Diary,
I’m really worried. I think I want to be a ballet dancer when I grow up, but I have trouble turning and that might mean I can’t be one. The teacher says that turns are the most important thing for ballet dancers to be able to do. I hope she’s wrong. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved to dance. Whenever Grandma came over I would put on my princess hairband and my tutu skirt and dance for her. She always clapped and then pulled me on her lap and kissed and hugged me. I loved how good I felt. Even now I dance all the time in my room. Except no one watches anymore.
I’m going to try harder like I did with ice skating. I made myself stand on the ice in my ice skates and practice, even with my ankles caving in, until I could skate just like the other kids—and even skate backward.
Date: March 18
Dear Diary,
I saw Paul’s mom today for the first time ever. She brought his lunch into the classroom. She looks very nice. She had on lipstick and a really nice sweater. It was blue.
I tried to look really special and nice when she was in the room. I sat up really straight and raised my hand to show that I was a good student. No one else had their hand up. I didn’t know what I would say if the teacher called on me (since we weren’t asked any questions). But she didn’t anyway, so I was safe.
I wonder if Paul’s mom noticed me? I hope so! I hope she saw what a smart, pretty, nice girl I was and I hope she tells Paul that he should ask me to be his girlfriend.
Date: March 23
Dear Diary,
Exciting news! I have a new friend. We have tons of fun together. Her name is Dawn and she is in another sixth-grade class, so I’ve never really spent much time with her before. But we started talking at recess one day and decided we have a lot in common. We’ve been hanging out for a few weeks now, and she officially called me her friend the other day. So there you have it!
I actually got to sleep over at Dawn’s house last night, and we talked until late at night and laughed really hard about all sorts of things.
Her house felt funny compared to mine, though. Her parents don’t say much to me and her mom smokes. Their rooms seem darker. I think it’s because they have dark curtains on the windows. I don’t know what the smell is in the house. It’s a little yucky, though.
But I still like to go there because we tell each other secrets and sometimes talk about grown-up stuff, like boys. We even look at each other’s chest to see if anything is happening yet, like some of the girls in middle school.
Nothing’s happening with my chest, yet, but hopefully soon!
Date: March 24
Dear Diary,
I finished reading Black Beauty yesterday. I’ve been crying on and off for days while reading it, and as I finished the book, I cried for two hours straight. My nose was so stuffed up, I had to take nose drops just to breathe again. My dad asked me why I was crying so much. I told him it was because the story was very sad and that people are mean to animals.
I asked him why are people so cruel, but he said he didn’t really know—that some people just aren’t as nice as others. But Black Beauty was such a kind, wonderful horse. How could anyone ever think of making him into soap? I can’t stand it! Even though it’s only a book, I know people are cruel in real life—to both animals and to each other. I wish I could stop it somehow.
Date: March 26
Dear Diary,
What is wrong with people? I had to read The Diary of Anne Frank in school. Anne died when she was only a few years older than I am. And she loved life so much. How could it be that someone so young was taken away from her home and killed, just because she was seen as different? It doesn’t make any sense. And this really happened!
Reading the book made me want to scream out to the whole world, “Stop being mean! Start caring about each other!”
Sometimes I wonder if my parents realize what makes me really sad, like people being mean to animals and the story of Anne Frank. Do they also get saddened by these things? Am I the only one in the whole world who just wants people to be nice to one another? I know my parents love me, but I don’t think they really understand what makes me feel so rotten. Maybe parents just can’t understand once they grow up. They love their kids but they forget what it feels like to be a kid. I’m going to promise this to myself now: I won’t ever forget!
Date: March 27
Dear Diary,
My parents hurt me so much by fighting with each other. I don’t really know why they fight, but when I hear Dad say that he is going to take his suitcase out of the closet and go to Grandma’s for good, I get really scared and sad. I lie in bed and my heart just pounds. I don’t want my dad to leave and not live here anymore. Why would he even say that?
Why do they always seem to fight so late at night, too? How can I get enough sleep to go to school and think about math and spelling and history and all that? How can I concentrate on anything else but worrying that I’ll come home and my dad will be gone along with his suitcase?
The truth is that you should try to get along, especially if you say you love someone. My mom and dad put each other down, even sometimes call each other names. It’s not right. Why do they do that?
I hope they will stop fighting someday soon.
Date: March 28
Dear Diary,
I still watch Paul all the time at school. I am still sure that this is real love. I imagine us together, swimming and then lying in the sun on a towel and looking into each other’s eyes. Even though he doesn’t treat me like I am special to him, I think of him all the time. Recently he accepted my request to be Facebook friends and I can see some of his pictures online when I’m at my friends’ houses. He looks like he’s always having fun with his friends and family.
When I see him in school and get that special feeling of excitement that I never get with anyone else, how can I not daydream about him? Angela told me she daydreams about Greg. She even imagines them living in a camper when they grow up and going cross country with their two babies. She said she will probably have twins, as her mother is a twin. I imagine Paul and me living on a small farm with lots of animals. Maybe we would both be teachers and come home every night and take care of the cows and pigs. I love that daydream.
I know my body will be different someday. Sometimes I stand in front of the mirror and lean over so my chest turns into breasts and I look grown-up. I think I like the thought of that—of looking more adult.
I don’t know all the stuff that is going to happen over the next few years, but I do know that I want to marry Paul someday. I can’t even begin to think about us not ending up together—our own happily ever after.
Date: March 30
Dear Diary,
Today is my birthday and I’m twelve years old! My grandparents and aunts sent me cards with money inside. I got $100.00 altogether. At first I wanted to get an iPod, but then Mom said no. So I’ve decided that I’m going to get a new bike with the money and the fifty dollars I already saved. The bike I want is shiny dark blue. My mom said she’d take me to pick it up tomorrow when she gets home from work. I’m so excited. I have never had a bike with more than one speed before. I really feel grown up!
We had my favorite meal tonight: steak. It was really tender and I even got the part with the bone in it. My dad usually takes that part, but since it was my birthday, I got it instead. Then we had cake and ice cream for dessert. Grandma and Grandpa came over for dessert and everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I felt really loved, what with all the hugs and kisses.
While we were eating the cake, Grandma asked if Aunt Belinda had sent me a present. And then I remembered! It was still in my drawer hidden away. I excused myself from the table and ran upstairs. I pulled open my underwear drawer and there it was—the unopened package.
I ripped the paper off the b
ox. I opened the felt lid of the little box and inside was a gold locket on a chain. It was so beautiful and in the shape of a heart. And on the front was an engraved design.
I noticed the small clasp on the locket and opened it. Inside, there were spaces for two pictures. Aunt Belinda had put a picture of me in one of the openings. The other was blank. I love it—it’s so beautiful!
Then I read her note, which stated: “To my precious niece. Happy Birthday and many more. Love, Aunt Belinda.”
I jumped up and down, holding the locket right up to my heart. Then I put it on before rushing back downstairs to show it off.
Grandma admired the locket and said it was really lovely. When I showed her how it opened and let her glance at my photo inside, she asked, “Who will you put in the other side? Your brother, maybe?” I just gave her a look and said that I’d definitely never put him on the other side.
But it was a good question. Whose picture should I put in the other side?
Date: April 2
Dear Diary,
I’m wearing my locket to school every day. All the girls love it. Even Miss Shannon said how lovely it is. Everyone asked if I had any pictures in it yet. I showed them my picture and said I was still deciding about the other side. A lot of them suggested my brother. That is such a stupid idea. I love him, but I don’t want to wear a picture of him with me all the time. Gross!
When we were in the girl’s bathroom Angela asked me when I am going to put Paul’s picture in the locket. Then we started to laugh and I told her to be quiet. I would die if anyone else heard her. No one in school knows about Paul and me except Angela. Then we heard a toilet flush and my heart started beating so hard. A girl from the first grade came out of the stall and didn’t even look at us. I don’t think she heard Angela. I was so relieved. Then we just started to laugh again. It felt so good. I love laughing that way. I only do it with Angela. I guess I’m not really mad at her anymore. And I think I’m really going to miss her if she moves away.
The Truth Page 3
