I knew I couldn’t fight with my dad. So I took my phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. But I also said, “Remember, this phone saved me. I wouldn’t have been able to call Charlie without it.”
“We wish you’d also used it to call us,” Mom said.
“That’s exactly what I’ll do from now on, I promise,” I said. “But I can’t call you if I don’t have the phone.”
“We’ll think about that,” my dad said. He did not hand me back my phone. Instead, he said, “When was the last time you ate?”
“Breakfast,” I said. And I realized how hungry I was. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t even noticed.
Mom and Dad made me a big bowl of pasta then, and they sat with me while I ate. After that they sent me to my room, as the start of my three weeks of punishment. And I’ve been in here ever since.
I am so very, very tired.
After a snooze
I just fell asleep for a while and drooled all over my pillow. Jo woke me up. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me in until now!” she said. “You have to tell me everything—every single detail. I called Jake and talked to Violet, too, so I know a lot. But I want to hear the whole story from you, from the very beginning.”
I was half-asleep until she said she’d talked to Jake and Violet. That woke me all the way up.
“Do they both hate me?” I asked her.
I never thought I’d have to ask that. I hated having to ask it.
“Jake’s just annoyed with you,” Jo said. “He hates Mary Majors. Violet’s pretty mad at you. But we’ll talk about that when we get there. You have to start at the very beginning of the day.”
So we sat side by side on my bed, and I started at the very beginning. It wasn’t easy to tell her every detail. Because there was plenty for her to be mad about. She was NOT happy that I’d told Mary Majors all about her Jake problems, for example. Or that we’d invaded his room and fought with him while he was in a towel. But I knew she wasn’t a hundred percent angry about that. Because she was also very, very glad to have found out that Jake was writing her a song. And not cheating on her with Mean-a Trina.
Still, she was firm with me about one thing. She turned to face me on the bed and said, very seriously, “You should never have let that Mary Majors girl convince you to go all the way to Jake and Violet’s without telling us. It was so scary when I didn’t know where you were, and you could’ve been anywhere—you could actually have been kidnapped—and I had no way to know, or to help you. You can’t EVER do that again.” By the time she’d finished that speech, she looked like she was about to cry.
“I won’t do it again,” I told her.
“Do you solemnly swear?” she said.
“I solemnly swear,” I said.
“And do you solemnly swear to never confront
Jake again without talking to me first? And doing exactly what I say?” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “I solemnly swear.”
“Good,” she said. She rested her head on my shoulder, and we sat there very quietly for a little bit. Then she hopped off my bed and said, “Time to watch a movie.”
“That’s not nice!” I said. Because Mom and Dad were definitely not going to let me watch a movie.
“Oh!” she said quickly, realizing what I meant. Then she thought for a second and said, “It’s educational—for school—very boring.”
That made me laugh a little. She was so obviously lying. But at least she was trying.
“Just go,” I told her, pointing at my door.
She grinned at me and left.
Sunday, February 6
Today I did SO MANY CHORES! For starters, I washed and dried and folded FOUR LOADS of laundry. I think my parents FAKED laundry, to torture me!
I loaded and unloaded the dishwasher, too. Twice! And Mom made me take the last of our unopened boxes out of the closet in her office and put EVERYTHING away.
The only good thing about today: I got to spend lots of time with Granny. She sat in the kitchen with Eye-Della, and we all talked while I loaded and unloaded the dishwasher. Plus I took clean laundry to the den and folded it in there, with the two of them.
“She’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she?” Granny said a lot, to Eye-Della.
“Yes, she sure is sweet,” Eye-Della said to Granny. Even though she must’ve figured out that I was doing all that housework because I’m being punished for doing something bad. She smiled and told me, “This too shall pass,” when I started loading dishes AGAIN.
I’m glad I don’t have to rebuild with Granny and Eye-Della, at least.
Also, in my little breaks from chores, I started trying to make up with Violet. Jo let me borrow her phone, and I sent her texts like these:
“I didn’t know Mary Majors had that plan! REALLY!”
and
“I would’ve stayed FAR from Jake’s room, if it wasn’t for her. obviously! he was wearing a TOWEL!”
and
“would it help if I wrote you a love song?”
So far, no response from Violet.
Monday, February 7
I asked Jo if we could leave for school early today. Because I’m already tired of being stuck at home! She said yes, which was nice of her. And I was the first kid in our classroom.
Very surprisingly, Mary Majors came in second. And she wasn’t even out of breath—I think she just left her apartment with plenty of time to get to school, for once. I was already at my desk, taking a notebook and pen out of my backpack. She walked over to me, and I thought, Do NOT ask me to do anything with you. Because I am NOT going to do it.
She didn’t ask me to do something, though. Instead, she asked, “Are your parents really mad?”
I nodded and said, “I’m very punished, for three weeks. How about you?”
She shrugged and said, “Nobody even cared that I’d been gone.”
Which seemed weird. And sad!
I don’t want to be punished. (Last night Mom said she’s going to teach me how to mop! I don’t want to know how to mop!) But still. I’m glad my family cared that I was gone.
I was still at my desk with Mary Majors when Charlie walked in. I got ready to yell at her then, if I needed to. If she was mean to him for even one second. But she just said, “Hi, CHARLIE.” Emphasizing his name. And also, “Thanks for helping us the other day.”
I couldn’t get mad at that.
Plus, when Josie came in a little later and said to Charlie, “How’s it going, Spot?” Mary Majors said, very loudly, “That’s NOT FUNNY, Josie.”
I couldn’t get mad at that, either.
I still don’t think I ever want to do anything with Mary Majors outside of school again. Or maybe even outside the classroom. And I’m still mad at her for lots of things. Like wrecking my friendship with Violet. But I have to admit, she’s trying.
Later, at home, after taking our trash down to the basement
Charlie’s mom just called my mom, to see how we were all doing. After they talked, Mom and Dad decided that Charlie could come home with me after school tomorrow. Since he’s my homework buddy.
I’m super happy about that. Except, Mom says that as soon as our homework is done, I have to do my chores. So I hope Charlie doesn’t mind watching while I clean the kitchen.
Tuesday, February 8
Charlie is excellent at washing dishes! He says he LIKES doing it! It’s a little odd. But extremely helpful! He rinsed dishes, and I loaded the dishwasher, and we figured out a list of texts to try to make Violet like me again. Here’s the one I just sent her, on Jo’s phone:
i hate that you’re mad at me even more than i hate medians and modes. and those things are the worst.
I wanted to send a text promising I’d never speak to Mary Majors again if Violet forgave me. But Charlie wouldn’t let me. Because she really is trying hard. Today she saved me and Charlie a seat at her table at lunch. We told her, “No, thanks.” Because kids who’d been mean to Charlie, like Josie, were sitting there. M
ary Majors could’ve just nodded and said, “Okay.” But instead she stood up with her lunch and came and sat with us.
She’s making it hard to stay super angry at her. But I’d still stop talking to her if Violet asked me to.
After Charlie left
Dad gave me back my cell phone! Only for emergency situations, though. I can’t use it for any other reason, for the rest of my three punishment weeks.
I asked whether I could text Violet. Since our problems definitely count as an emergency. But Dad said, “That’s not the kind of emergency I mean.”
I feel very limited.
Even so, I’m very glad to have this beautiful phone back.
A little later
I just checked with Jo. Still no reply from Violet.
Even later
I started feeling desperate about the Violet situation. I couldn’t think what to do. Finally I wrote this poem and texted it to her on Jo’s phone:
Roses are boring. VIOLETS are the greatest. I can’t care about sugar right now. You being mad at me is what I hate-est.
Jo took a look at the poem and shook her head. But that desperate thing worked! Violet FINALLY wrote back! And we texted! This is what we said:
Violet: you are a terrible poet.
Me: sorry about that! and I am so, so sorry that I came over there with Mary Majors. I should’ve just come by myself, and done nothing but hang out with you.
Violet: Jake’s been talking to Jo. he thinks I should forgive you, but not Maniac Mary Minors.
Me: please thank him for me. and tell him I’m so, so sorry, too.
Violet: ok. gotta go now.
Me: I’ll text again soon.
That was it. She didn’t call me Celie. Or say anything like, “I Celie.” But at least those texts are progress.
Wednesday, February 9
I had a good day today. Even though Mom made me organize the pantry after I’d finished my homework. (We had a jar of olives in there that expired three years ago! WHY DID WE BRING THEM WITH US WHEN WE MOVED?)
My walk home from school with Jo was especially nice. She said Jake had told Violet that she should come with him when he visits Jo on Sunday. So she can talk to me in person. I hope she comes! I know we can work things out, if we get some time together.
Maybe I could convince Mom and Dad to let us go to that nice bakery with Jake and Jo. Or maybe we’ll have to stay home, and she’ll have to watch me fold our laundry. Either way, somehow, I’ll make it okay.
One funny thing happened, as I was walking with Jo. We passed the A train station in our neighborhood. It is definitely NOT a nice station. The paint is peeling down there, and it’s shadowy, and the trash cans are overflowing, and it smells funny. But still. As we were passing it, I remembered everyone waiting there for me, so worried, when I was finally getting back from Violet’s. I remembered what it felt like to see them watching for me as I walked up the stairs from the train. And I got such a nice feeling.
I guess Jo was thinking exactly the same thing. Because she pointed at the sign for the station and said to me, “I somehow love that place.”
“Me too,” I said. “It weirdly reminds me of home.”
Check out Celie’s last two adventures!
Ten-year-old Celie turns to her brand-new diary as she tries to sort through everything on her mind: fights with her sister, Jo, an increasingly forgetful grandmother, and worst of all, a best friend who won’t speak to her!
“Sternberg gets Celie’s voice just right, and readers should find her completely credible…. This satisfying slice-of-life story about the permutations of friendship and family resonates.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review
“Sternberg exposes the travails of adolescence with authenticity and humor.” —Publishers Weekly
“A promising new family-and-friendship series grounded by a likable, authentic protagonist.” —Booklist
HC: 978-1-59078-993-3
PB: 978-1-62979-405-1
e-book: 978-1-62979-284-2
Celie once again fills her diary as she faces some big life changes, such as her grandmother moving in, her parents keeping secrets, her sister going boy crazy, and her best friend drifting away.
“Although the issues Celie faces—loss of her best friend, conflicts with her sister, concerns about her cognitively compromised grandmother—are major, the story is in no way heavy … A heartfelt but amusing story about the many challenges of growing up.” —Kirkus Reviews
“Celie’s voice is fresh, completely unselfconscious, and emphatic … Much of the book’s considerable humor, as well as its pathos, is communicated in Celie’s sketches, diagrams, and notes—scribbly, heartfelt, and immediate.” —Horn Book
HC: 978-1-62091-777-0
e-book: 978-1-62979-434-1
JULIE STERNBERG is the author of the best-selling Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie and its sequels. She also wrote the picture books Bedtime at Bessie and Lil’s and Puppy, Puppy, Puppy. She lives with her family in Brooklyn, New York. Visit juliesternberg.com
JOHANNA WRIGHT has illustrated several picture books, including Keep a Pocket in Your Poem by J. Patrick Lewis and her own The Secret Circus and Bunnies on Ice. She lives with her family in Portland, Oregon. Visit johannawright.com
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