Secrets Out!

by Julie Sternberg

  I told her about the call. She got a little blushy. I could tell she liked that he’d called.

  So I said, “Don’t forget that he can’t keep a secret.” Because it’s important for her to remember that! If he’d KEPT the secret, we wouldn’t have to move and hire Stranger Nurse.

  Jo got mad then and said, “I KNOW! I KNOW he broke his promise and got us into all this trouble—you don’t have to keep telling me about it. But he’s also a nice person, and it’s not your business anyway. So just—STOP.”

  Then she swung away from me in her seat and started turning pages of her textbook, fast.

  It’s OBVIOUSLY my business. I thought about telling her that.

  I also thought about saying, “He’s way too tall for you, anyway.”

  But I didn’t do either one. Because she was already shooting laser eyes at me.

  Later

  Jo and I should just be in separate bedrooms already. Because she keeps behaving like I’m not even here.

  Monday, December 13

  Today VIOLET got weird! She kept looking over her shoulder at me during class, which she’s never done before. And her face was so CONCERNED.

  I figured she was feeling sorry for me and my family. Because she knows about Granny’s mind.

  You are not ALLOWED to worry about my granny, I told her in my head. And I glared at her.

  I wanted so badly to reach over and pull her hair, hard.

  I raised my hand instead and asked if I could go to the water fountain. I used the word “parched.” Because Mrs. McElhaney always says yes when we use words we’ve learned in class.

  After I’d walked to the fountain, before I could even push the button, VIOLET showed up.

  “Did you FOLLOW me?” I asked her.

  “I want to talk to you about something,” she said.

  You never want to talk to ME, I thought. You only ever want to talk to Lula. And if I move far away, you’ll get to talk to Lula all the time, and I’ll probably never even get to see her.

  That thinking made me even MORE annoyed.

  “This better not be about Granny,” I said, in a not-nice voice. It definitely startled Violet. She didn’t respond at all for a second.

  “Granny is not your business,” I told her. “You shouldn’t even know about Granny.”

  “That’s kind of what I wanted to say,” she said. “Jake feels really bad about not keeping his promise to Jo.”

  “He SHOULD feel bad,” I said.

  “He was WORRIED,” Violet said. “He thought grownups should know about fires getting started.”

  “Why do YOU know?” I said. “You’re not a grownup.”

  She ignored that whole point entirely and said, “He should’ve gotten Jo’s permission before he told anyone—he knows that. He made a mistake.”

  “She wouldn’t have given permission,” I said.

  “Like I said, he made a mistake,” she said. “Haven’t YOU ever made a mistake?”

  She didn’t actually pat the back pocket of her pants then, to remind me of my pickpocketing. But I still thought of those notes I’d stolen. And also, my stupid muttering of “Sky High Vi” in front of Lula. And reading Jo’s texts when I wasn’t supposed to. And throwing Granny’s sweater down the chute instead of telling Mom or Dad.

  “I told Jake to text Jo and apologize, and he did, a bunch of times,” Violet said. “But she hasn’t accepted his apology. He tried calling her cell, too, but she didn’t answer. So I got your home number for him, from the school directory. But then he got embarrassed when you answered, and he hung up.”

  “Huh,” I said, feeling a little guilty. Thinking about how I’d told Jo to never trust him again.

  “It’s just, he was having a pretty bad year,” Violet said. “Because our dad moved away over the summer. But then he started to like Jo, and Jo started to like him, and he was happier. Which was so good.”

  She paused for a second. Then she said, “I don’t want him to be sad again.”

  I nodded. I don’t like Jo being sad, either. Or a zombie. Or treating me like I’m invisible.

  “I definitely can’t control Jo,” I told Violet. “But I’ll try to help. I promise.”

  “Thanks,” Violet said.

  Then we both drank some water. And we headed back to class.

  Later

  I thought and thought about what to say to Jo when she came home from rehearsal. Finally I decided to draw her a picture. Here’s a copy of what I drew:

  At the bottom I wrote, “That’s you and Jake, sitting in a tree. And it’s fine with me. No K-I-S-S-I-N-G by your locker, though. Or anywhere else where anyone at all can see.”

  I waited by our front door and handed it to her the second she walked in.

  She looked at it, then shook her head and told me, “You are so embarrassing.” But she smiled a little when she said it. And she was at least talking to me!

  It’s not much to report to Violet. But I do think it counts as good news.

  Later

  I just called Violet on the phone. She liked my report. And we came up with a plan, to try to get Jo and Jake to school tomorrow morning at exactly the same time. So they’ll have the perfect chance to make up.

  I have to go tell Dad and Jo that we must leave for school tomorrow at PRECISELY 7:12 a.m. I’m going to lie and say I left an important worksheet in my locker and I know exactly how long it will take me to finish it.

  I hope this works.

  Tuesday, December 14

  Violet and I are planning geniuses! She and Jake got to school exactly FIVE SECONDS before Jo and I did. I was actually ready to hug Violet when I saw her. That’s how impressed I was with our brilliance.

  We didn’t hug, though. We just ran off together to the hallway near the lobby. I brought my spy notebook, so we could spy together. Here’s my spy report:

  From the

  Top-Secret Spy Notebook of

  Celie Valentine Altman

  A spy uses equipment to carry out a successful mission. Numerous high-tech devices are readily available. Are you adequately prepared? List your equipment below.

  What device are you using to help you see? Night goggles, for example, allow you to see in the dark.

  We don’t need night goggles. The lobby is very light.

  We’re peeking in there, at Jake and Jo, together. I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.

  What device are you using to help you hear? High-powered listening devices can be downloaded on many cell phones, for example.

  I DO NOT HAVE A CELL PHONE!

  IT IS ANNOYING TO ASSUME THAT I DO!

  Anyway, at this moment there is no need for a phone. Since Violet can ACTUALLY HEAR what Jo and Jake are saying! Her hearing is INCREDIBLE. She is a high-powered listening device! Every spy should have a Violet.

  I am writing down the conversation Supersonic Violet just heard:

  Jake: “I’m really sorry. I messed up. I’ve been trying to tell you I’m sorry.”

  Jo: “I know.”

  Jake: “Hold on a second. I brought something for you.”

  Now Jake is digging through his backpack. Now he’s handing Jo something.

  Is that a coconut?

  What device are you using to help you touch? Medical clamps (which resemble long scissors) might be useful, for example, to remove small objects from tight spaces.

  I don’t know a lot about medical clamps. But I’m guessing they wouldn’t work on a coconut.

  Jo is holding the coconut just fine without medical clamps. And she is grinning up at Jake.

  I have to stop spying. Because WHY IS JO HOLDING A COCONUT?

  I asked Supersonic Violet why Jo was holding a coconut.

  “Jake wanted to get her something,” Violet said. “As an apology. When they went for ice cream, she said she liked coconut as a topping. So he went to the bodega around the corner from us and got her a coconut.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  I wanted to say, “She
meant SHREDDED coconut. Just a little spoonful of it.”

  But I didn’t. Because I would hate it if Violet made fun of Jo. And also, Jo wants me to be nicer about Jake.

  Wednesday, December 15

  I haven’t told anyone at school about The Move yet. Because so much is undecided. Maybe I’ll stay at school. Maybe I won’t. Maybe Mom and Dad won’t find a place for a really long time. Maybe they’ll find one tomorrow.

  I don’t want to hear questions when I don’t have answers. It’d just make me worried. Plus it’s hard to talk about WHY we’re moving. Since it’s hard to talk about Granny.

  I haven’t even told Lula. I was thinking I probably should. Today in math.

  But then she tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and started to scribble on it. I thought she was writing ANOTHER note to Violet. I figured I was going to have to watch them AGAIN passing notes back and forth to each other. So I decided I’d never tell either one of them about the move.

  Only, when Lula finished writing, she passed the note to me! I passed it to Violet next. And we all three wrote together. Our notes are here, on this piece of paper:

  Celie and Violet—Will you both spend the night with me at my dad’s new place on Saturday? Please say yes. —Lula

  Yes! Nothing could stop me.

  —Celie

  Me too! —Violet

  Thanks. I didn’t like thinking about being there alone. Not because it’s a bad apartment—don’t worry. The building has a gym, even, with spin bikes. —Lula

  I understand about not wanting to be there alone. And also, I love spin bikes! The way they look, at least. I’ve never actually been on one.

  —Soon-to-be-Spinning Celie

  I wish you both could come with me to Oklahoma.

  —V

  Maybe we can someday! Why not? —L

  We’ll bike there, if we have to! —C

  You’re funny, Celie! —V

  Violet thinks I’m funny! And she and Lula and I are heading everywhere together! Why can’t we be together in Washington Heights, too? Or wherever I end up.

  It’s like Granny says: Dark spirits lifting to light.

  Thursday, December 16

  I’m writing really quickly, before breakfast. I don’t want to forget what happened late last night.

  I was wide awake, even though the lights had been out for a while. Jo was sleeping in her bed. I could hear her breathing in and out, in and out. And I realized something. My whole life, I’ve been listening to Jo breathe in and out, in and out, as she sleeps. If we get our own rooms, I won’t hear it anymore.

  Dad came to check on me and Jo then.

  “What are you doing awake?” he asked quietly, when he saw that my eyes were open.

  “I’m going to miss Jo’s breathing,” I told him, “if we get separate rooms.”

  He came and sat on the edge of my bed.

  “We’ll all miss things if we move,” he said quietly. “But can we discuss NICE possible changes?

  I, for example, have always dreamed of owning a pool table.”

  “We’d have space for a pool table?” I said.

  “We might,” he said. “Don’t go crushing my dreams. You next.”

  I thought for a second about what I might like in a new place that was big enough for all of us to live together comfortably. With no mess. I thought about Lula and Violet visiting me there.

  “I’d like three big beanbag chairs,” I said. “And an old-timey popcorn maker.”

  “I think I can make that happen,” Dad said.

  “A cotton candy machine, too,” I said. “Violet won’t eat it, but Lula would.”

  “Hmm,” Dad said. “I’m not sure we could fit a popcorn maker AND a cotton candy machine.”

  “They’re smaller than a pool table!” I told him.

  “An excellent point,” he said. “Anything else?”

  “Yes,” I said. I had just that second come up with the perfect plan. “I dream of an art studio for Granny and me.”

  He leaned over and kissed my forehead then. “I love that dream,” he said. “Let’s work on that. In preparation, let’s both get a good night’s sleep.”

  He left the room after that. And I fell asleep to the thought of dreams coming true.

  Here’s a look at Celie’s next adventure,

  JOURNAL

  Do not even think about opening this journal. You don’t get to read it. Or touch it.

  It is PRIVATE.

  You’re not special just because you’re my big sister, Jo. If you read this, I will find the picture I took when you had that giant pimple on your chin, and I will make copies, and I will tape them up in the hallway of our new school. Where everyone in your grade can see.

  Don’t assume I won’t do it. Because I will.

  Celie

  Dearest Celie,

  I’m crossing my fingers that you’ll like this new diary. I went through shelf after shelf of journals in the bookstore, trying to find just the right one. I rejected a million (roughly speaking). They seemed too businesslike, or too brown, or too dainty, or too babyish, or too filled with supposedly inspirational sayings like “Find the magic to make your spirit fly.”

  I found no such magic, but I did finally find this journal. It strikes me as artistic and bold, and those qualities remind me of you. So I bought it.

  I hope it feels like the right choice to you. And I hope it helps you make your way through the days we face ahead. I know it’ll be hard to move to a new home and a new school, and to have to worry about making new friends. But changes aren’t only bad; they can be exciting, too. I know we’ll have happy moments as well as challenging ones, and I hope it’s helpful to you to describe them all here.

  With lots of love, and then a whole lot more,

  Mom

  Once upon a time,

  this diary became

  the very

  private

  property

  of

  Celie Valentine Altman

  And so it remains,

  to this very day.

  The End.

  If you missed Celie’s first adventure, check out Friendship Over.

  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, secrets at school, 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.”

  —Publisher’s Weekly

  “A promising new family-and-friendship series grounded by a likable, authentic protagonist.”

  —Booklist

  “Sternberg has Celie navigate through her troubles in a manner both satisfying and believable; readers can look forward to more of Celie’s heartfelt, funny, and engaging diaries.”

  —The Horn Book Magazine

  Want to get to know

  the FUN, FABULOUS author?

  Just read my English assignment.

  (I got to interview her. I’m NOT kidding!)

  ENGLISH ASSIGNMENT

  Our school librarians have been working very hard to line up author interviews for you! Please take very detailed notes during your interview. Then try to write it as accurately as you can in the space provided below.

  Be sure to note who is speaking in the conversation. For example, if I interviewed Señora Santacruz, I would write:

  Mrs. McElhaney: Good Morning, Señora Santacruz. How are you?

  Señora Santacruz: Fine, thank you.

  I know this is a big assignment. Do not hesitate to ask for help if you need it.

  Name: Celie

  Date: Mon., Nov. 29

  I interviewed Julie Sternberg. I asked her to ta
lk VERY SLOWLY so I could take my notes. I think I got the whole conversation. Here’s what we said:

  Me: My dad gave me a punching bag and a diary for my tenth birthday. What did YOU get when you turned ten?

  Ms. Sternberg: I don’t remember everything, but I do know I got half a cake and half a party. My sister’s birthday is the day before mine, and we never got our own cake or party. (We’re not twins—she was born two years later. We look a lot alike, though.)

  As for presents, my parents usually gave each of us a sweater. Which isn’t nearly as useful as a punching bag and diary. Punching bags are the perfect way to take out frustrations, and diaries are the perfect place to sort out feelings.

  Me: Can you draw me a picture of you and your sister? So I can see how much you look alike?

  Ms. S: Oh, no—I’m sorry. I can’t draw at all, not even bubble letters.

  Me: I could definitely teach you bubble letters.

  Ms. S: That’s very nice of you, but I’m afraid it’s hopeless. I’ve been trying for a lifetime.

  Me: Did you keep a diary like I do—except without pictures or bubble letters—when you were ten?

  Ms. S: Unfortunately, I was the kind of kid who loved the IDEA of keeping a diary but never managed to actually do it. Now I wish I had! I’d love a record of my childhood thoughts and feelings.

  Me: Did you write stories? Instead of writing in your diary?

  Ms. S: I should have! Instead I read and read and read. I read during recess, I read at sleepovers, I read on the floor of my closet when I was supposed to be sleeping.

  Me: You shouldn’t read at sleepovers. That’s not nice.

  Ms. S: You are absolutely, positively right. I should not have done that.

  Me: Did your friends start being mean to you after you read on the sleepovers? Sometimes my friends are mean. And my sister, Jo, used to have the meanest friend EVER.