Dear Diary...

by L. M. Reed

  Chapter 10

  Dear Diary,

  Mom got me a laptop.

  CeeCee

  After I finished hugging Mark, I was relieved to notice that Mom was already there, welcoming Nick. I relinquished my hold on Mark reluctantly so Mom could get her hug, and determined to be as normal as possible with Nick, I turned toward him to say hi or something.

  That was a mistake.

  As soon as I saw the amused…smirk was the only word I could come up with…on his face, the greeting died in my throat and my hand twitched, itching to slap it off his face. He knew exactly what I was feeling, why I was feeling it, and was laughing at me.

  “Still have that temper I see,” he murmured quietly, so only I could hear. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you; I wouldn’t be as easy a target as lover boy obviously was.”

  He had apparently seen my hand twitch.

  Problem solved…at least I knew how to treat Nick. I glared, then turned my back on him and tried to concentrate on what Mom and Mark were saying.

  “Okay, that sounds good. We can go right now and be back in a little over half an hour,” Mark agreed.

  “Where are you going?”

  I must have missed something.

  “Mark is going to drive me to school to pick up a few things,” Mom was all sparkly, not at all like last night, “We’ll be back shortly.”

  “I could help, too,” I offered eagerly.

  Please don’t leave me here alone with Nick, I begged silently.

  “Thanks, but we’ll need all of the room in the back seat for the…stuff,”Mom substituted at the last minute.

  Before I could protest, they were already outside.

  I was still staring at the door, not wanting to turn around, when that hated voice said, “Well, looks like it’s just you and me.”

  I whipped around to face Nick.

  “No,” I contradicted, “it’s just you. I have things to do in my room.”

  I started toward the stairs, but halted abruptly when I heard Nick laughingly say, “That’s fine with me, I’m sure I’ll enjoy this visit to your room as much as I did the last one.”

  “You…are…not…invited,” I slowly enunciated every word in case he was too dense to understand.

  “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me,” Nick said in fake amazement.

  “What gave you the first clue?” I asked sarcastically.

  “You know, you are the hostess, so it’s your duty to entertain me,” Nick reminded me.

  “Apparently, I already do,” I retorted angrily.

  “True, I should probably rephrase,” Nick conceded. “You are the hostess; therefore I shall follow wherever you lead.”

  Evaluating him through narrowed eyes, I decided he meant what he said. I had no desire to have him in my room, or maybe I should say I had a strong desire to have him in my room, but I didn’t want to want him in my room. I was so confused.

  “Oh alright, we can sit in the living room and flip through the few channels we have on TV,” I conceded ungraciously.

  “I have a better idea,” Nick took my hand and led me to the door, “let’s go for a walk.”

  “I don’t want to go for a walk with you.”

  I yanked at my hand in a desperate attempt to free it from his grasp.

  “Come on, don’t be a spoilsport,” he coaxed.

  “Fine,” I gave in, quickly, “you can give me back my hand now.”

  He chuckled, adjusted his grip, and had me out the front door before I could say anything else. I fervently wished that I wasn’t enjoying said grip.

  “What, so you can run off as soon as I let go?” he asked knowingly, adding, “I don’t think so.”

  We walked side by side silently for a few minutes and I was even beginning to enjoy it. Maybe he did like me a little bit.

  My head was suddenly filled with “The Kiss,” only it went further, he wasn’t stopping; he wasn’t leaving; we were locked in a passionate embrace. The image took my breath away. I was eighteen, after all…

  Abruptly intruding into my daydreams he said, all humor gone, “You need to cut your mom some slack.”

  That was what the whole thing was about…the walk, the hand-holding, admittedly it was more like hand imprisonment but still…it was mortifying. Tears quickly sprang to the surface. I seemed to have lost all control over my tear ducts since…

  Don’t go there, I warned myself sternly.

  I will not cry, I will not cry, I kept repeating it over and over in my head, determined not to let him see how disappointed I was, how I had, in spite of my best efforts not to, started to build fantasies around him in my head.

  I felt like an idiot. I was an idiot.

  Nick watched me speculatively, waiting to see my reaction. I would give him a reaction, all right.

  But no…I couldn’t give him the one I wanted to, I would have to come up with one I could live with, one he wouldn’t be expecting, a toned down version to show my maturity.

  Maturity, ha, that was a laugh. What I yearned to do was stick my tongue out at him, call him names, and run away.

  Great, CeeCee, very mature, I chided myself.

  I might not be a mature adult on the inside, but maybe I could project one on the outside.

  “You need to butt out of my business,” I told him loftily, with barely a hint of anger. Eyes straight ahead, careful not to look at him, I added, “You know nothing about it.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his eyes narrow for a split second.

  “Actually, I know more about it than you do,” he contradicted smoothly.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked facing him in angry confusion.

  “Mark called your mom last night after he got off the phone with you. You can ask him when he gets back. Suffice it to say, I know more about your mom’s situation than you do, and I am telling you to back off and give her some space.”

  How dare he? Who did he think he was, telling me how to treat my own mother?

  Once again, desperately yanking at my hand, I knew I had to get away before I made a complete fool of myself in public by taking a swing at him and that was when it dawned on me…he had been counting on that, the fact that even I wouldn’t attack him in public. That was why he had suggested, no…ordered was more like it…that we take a walk.

  I was beyond furious.

  He tightened his grip again, commanding in a low tone, “Behave your self, CeeCee.”

  Children playing in the front yard of one of the houses stopped their game of tag to watch us.

  “Take…me…home,” I demanded between clenched teeth, “Now!”

  “I will,” Nick agreed, “As long as you promise to play nicely today.”

  “I despise you!” I hissed.

  “I can live with that,” he calmly assured me. “Your promise…?”

  “Fine,” I huffed, “I promise,” I threw at him childishly.

  “Good, your mom has worked hard to make today special for you so I expect you to show the appropriate amount of appreciation.”

  “Whatever,” I had no idea what he meant. How could my mom have done anything when she hadn’t been home all week? “I want to go back now.”

  Releasing my hand at long last, Nick turned back in the direction of the house. Forgetting all of my good intentions, I behaved exactly like the child he obviously thought me to be. Rubbing my hand where his grip had turned it red, I muttered “Jerk” under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear, stuck out my tongue, and ran.

  So much for maturity…

  Felicia was waiting on the porch when I got home. We hadn’t locked the door, so grabbing Felicia by the hand I practically flew into the house dragging her with me. I hustled her up the stairs and into my room before she even had a chance to catch her breath.

  “What was that all about?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Nick’s here,” I replied s
hortly.

  “Cool, I thought I recognized the pickup outside. So where is everyone?”

  “Mark and Mom had to go to the school to pick up some things.”

  “And Nick…?”

  “He’s around someplace,” I replied vaguely.

  “So why did you drag me up here like someone was after you?” she asked bewildered.

  I suddenly didn’t want her to know what had just happened. I had to admit that it didn’t put me in a very good light. Searching furiously in my mind for a logical, believable answer to her question, I hit on one.

  “I wanted to tell you about last night,” I hedged.

  “Oh yeah, what happened with your mom?” she asked curiously.

  “She was too tired to talk last night,” true enough, even though I hadn’t been in any condition to notice at the time, “So Mark was going to ask her today.” Also true, as far as I knew. “I thought I would give you a heads up before they got home that I am still in the dark, but it’s okay, I am just going to forget about it right now and enjoy the day.”

  There…that should do it; it was the truth, even if not all of it.

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Felicia enthused. “Should we go down and wait for them?”

  “I guess,” I reluctantly agreed.

  As we descended the stairs, I found myself wishing the day already over.

  Mom and Mark were pulling into the garage by the time we got downstairs, and Nick went out to help them unload. I could hear them going in and out of the back door to the kitchen, presumably bringing in whatever it was they had gone to get.

  Wanting to avoid Nick as long as possible, I waited at the dining room table and sent an eager Felicia into the kitchen to see what was happening. She was gone a long time, and when she came back, she wouldn’t tell me anything.

  We sat there waiting, not talking, until finally Mark came to get me.

  “We’re ready now,” he said as he pulled me into the kitchen.

  Mom had gone all out.

  There were balloons floating around, streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a huge banner spread across the tops of the cabinets that read, Happy 18th Birthday CeeCee! There was also a happy birthday tablecloth and a birthday cake with a little running figurine on it with the words Happy Birthday CeeCee! We love you! Someone had already lit the eighteen candles on the cake and the table surrounding the cake was fully loaded down with food.

  By the time I had taken everything in, they were almost through singing happy birthday to me. Mom had invited Mrs. Murray from next door, Felicia’s parents, and Mrs. Blanton their housekeeper.

  She was throwing me a party.

  Suddenly it came to me…I knew what was lower than a sewer rat.

  I was the excretion from a sewer rat.

  I couldn’t let everyone stand around watching me cry, so to lighten the mood, after they’d finished singing, I managed to say in a joking voice, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving! Let’s eat.”

  They insisted the birthday girl go first, so I grabbed a plate and dug in. I had no idea what I’d piled on my plate, I was too busy trying to listen to everyone talking to me at once, but it didn’t matter, I knew Mom would have fixed all of my favorites.

  As soon as I had filled my plate, I surreptitiously searched for Mom, located her standing by the sink waiting to hand out drinks to people, and casually made my way over there. Setting my plate on the counter, I gently put my arms around her and squeezed. I didn’t care if I made us both cry…I needed her to know I was sorry…sorry about everything.

  I whispered, “I love you” in her ear, and she whispered “I love you” back.

  Releasing her, I picked up my plate, and made my way into the dining room to sit at the table. Thankfully, no one else had finished filling a plate yet, so I had few minutes to pull myself together.

  After we had all stuffed ourselves, Mom decided I should open my presents. That was guaranteed to make me feel guilty; I knew I didn’t deserve anything.

  Nevertheless, I couldn’t get out of it, so I gritted my teeth and started opening gifts.

  The first one I picked up was from Mark, and it was about the size of a man’s shoebox. I eyed it suspiciously and then eyed Mark even more suspiciously. He had frequently, over the years, given me a gag gift, holding the real gift back until later, just to see me react. One year he had even gift-wrapped some flies…live ones.

  As soon as the box had opened, out came the flies. Mom was furious with him that year. They went straight for my cake.

  Noticing my suspicious glare, he put his hands up in defensive gesture as if to say, “What did I do?”

  What indeed!

  Carefully taking off the wrapping paper, I noticed that he had taped the box up so heavily it would take me years to get into it.

  “Um, anyone have a pocketknife handy?” I asked innocently.

  “Need it to open the box?” Mr. Howell asked sympathetically as he handed me his.

  “Nah, actually I was going to use it to murder my brother,” I contradicted, “You don’t mind do you?” I puckered my brow as if that hadn’t occurred to me, adding, “I’ll make sure to clean off most of the blood before giving it back.”

  I heard a few appreciative chuckles.

  By the time I had cut through half of the tape, people weren’t just chuckling, they were laughing heartily.

  Glaring at Mark, I warned, “There better not be any flies in here.”

  Of course, people wanted to know that story, just as I knew they would, so Mark had to explain about his gag gifts.

  I finally managed to lift the lid on the box, grateful that people were still engrossed in Mark’s stories, and carefully peered inside. If he’d given me a gag gift, it wouldn’t be nearly as embarrassing if people weren’t all focused on me and my facial expressions. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

  I saw Mom heave a sigh of relief. I grinned at her and she grinned back. That felt good.

  Mark had gotten me the whole set of Agent Jack Knight novels, eight in all. That was fast! I hadn’t told him I was even interested in them until our Thursday night phone call.

  Of course that also meant he had waited until the last minute to figure out what to get me…classic Mark…the procrastinator.

  The movie had let out around ten, and I’d called him while Felicia drove me home. I did go out for a short run after the phone call, but no one knew that, and I didn’t plan on enlightening anyone. I smiled at him and mouthed my thanks.

  He was still in the middle of one of his gag gift stories…seeing as I’d had seventeen other birthdays, there were a lot of them.

  I picked up the next gift, and saw that it was from Mrs. Murray. Apparently, it was my day for shoeboxes. Lifting the lid on the shoebox, I was thrilled to note that there were actual shoes in it. Wow! They were the running shoes I had asked Mom for a month ago, right before…I stopped myself short pushing the rest of the thought out of my mind.

  Mom must have told Mrs. Murray about them, knowing I was not an easy person for which to buy. I got up and gave Mrs. Murray a hug.

  Mark had finished with all of his gag gift stories by then, so people had regrettably refocused their attention on me.

  The next present was in a brightly colored gift bag, with ribbons swirling around the handles, and matching tissue paper stuffed artfully inside the bag. I would recognize Felicia’s handiwork anywhere.

  I had told her not to buy me anything since she had furnished everything on Thursday—it hadn’t been an inexpensive day—but apparently she hadn’t listened to me.

  Returning my reproachful look with a sheepish grin she said, “In my defense, that gift is from my parents and Mrs. Blanton, too.”

  They all nodded their agreement.

  Reading the card, I realized she was telling the truth. All their names were there. Muttering under my breath about “loopholes,” I pu
lled a box out of the sack.

  Swallowing hard, I asked, “Is that just the box you wrapped it in, or…” I couldn’t finish my question.

  “Open it and see,” Felicia replied smugly.

  Felicia had been teasing me for ages about my old, outdated, MP3 player, threatening to buy me a new one for my birthday, but I had made her promise not to do it.

  Well, she had definitely kept her promise; it wasn’t a simple MP3 player.

  I sat staring at the small black box in my hand wondering how she had managed to get me one when they weren’t even out yet, wouldn’t be for a couple of weeks when Felicia whispered quietly in my ear “You can’t tell anyone until they come out next month.”

  I nodded speechlessly.

  After what seemed ages, but in reality was only a few seconds, I was able to get up and go hug Mrs. Blanton and the Howells.

  When I got to Felicia’s hug, I murmured, “Better learn to sleep with your eyes open.”

  She was shaking with laughter when I released her. By the alarmed look on her parents’ face, they must have thought she was having some type of a seizure.

  I sat back down and picked up the smallest box on the table. Reading the card, my whole body froze. I had been studiously ignoring Nick, refusing to even acknowledge his existence, but I couldn’t avoid opening his gift.

  Taking a few deep breaths without appearing to do so, I slowly peeled off the wrapping paper and lifted the lid on the box.

  Inside, nestled against black velvet, was the most exquisite silver charm bracelet I had ever seen, with a pair of miniature running shoes dangling from it.

  I lifted the bracelet and lay it across the palm of my hand, examining the tiny shoes…gorgeous.

  What do I do? I panicked.

  I had hugged everyone else, except Mark, and I would make up for that later, but Nick…?

  There’s nothing else for it, I decided sourly. I’m not going to get out of it, so I might as well get it over with.

  While everyone else was oohing and aahing over the bracelet, I got up and, avoiding Nick’s eyes walked over and hugged him. Nick wouldn’t release me until he had put his two-cents in.

  “Now that wasn’t so bad was it,” he teased softly, directly into my ear.

  “Matter of opinion,” I muttered resentfully.

  Pushing myself away from Nick, I returned to open the last gift…the largest. I had saved it for last—knowing it was from Mom—probably from guilt.

  Whatever it was, I didn’t deserve it. I knew Nick would agree.

  Stop thinking about him, I scolded myself severely.

  Determined to obey my own command, I picked up the gift and tore the wrapping paper off it. There was no way…it couldn’t be…she must have picked the box up at school or something…tell me it wasn’t…

  “I wasn’t sure which one to get you, CeeCee, but if you would rather have a different one, you could go with me to pick it out yourself,” Mom said anxiously, when I didn’t immediately say anything. “Mark thought this would be the best one for you.”

  “You…bought me…a laptop?” was all I could get out.

  I couldn’t handle it, I had to go; I didn’t want anyone to see me totally lose it.

  Not able to think straight, just reacting, I jumped up, ran out the front door, and kept on running.

  No one would understand. The only other person who could have understood was dead.

  Instinctively, my steps took me to the one place I could always count on to calm me. No one was out jogging…the temperature was in the high ‘90s…so I found a bench, curled up into a ball, and let myself cry…and remember…

  “But that is so unfair!” I wailed.

  “I’m sorry sweetheart, but we can’t afford to buy you both one, and your brother needs it for college,” Dad replied apologetically.

  “I need it for high school,” I countered tearfully. “Everyone else already has one.”

  “In a couple of years…”

  “A couple of years…!” I shrieked. “I could be dead in a couple of years.”

  My dad’s lips twitched at that, but he hadn’t meant for me to see it.

  “You’re laughing at me!” I accused, “Just like Serena will be laughing at me, laughing and making fun of me because I don’t have a laptop.”

  “CeeCee, not everyone has a laptop.”

  “All my friends do,” I returned haughtily.

  “Then I am sure your friends won’t mind if you borrow their laptops sometimes,” Dad reasoned.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” I replied scornfully. “We all have to be on at the same time so we can IM.”

  “IM…?”

  “Instant Message, don’t you know anything?”

 

  I should have realized that was going too far, even for my easy going dad, but I was, as usual, wrapped up in my own selfish world. Sadly, I hadn’t changed much.

  “That’s enough, young lady. You may get a laptop when you are about to go to college…if you’re lucky. At this rate, you will be fortunate if I don’t ground you for a month…a year. Now go to your room, before I decide to give you the spanking I think you deserve.”

 

  It was difficult to make my dad angry, but I had succeeded. Cringing, I forced myself to watch the rest of it replaying in my head…the part that ripped my heart out every time I thought of it…the part I regretted more than anything else I’d ever done in my life or probably ever would do.

 

  “I hate you! Do you hear me? Hate you! I wish you were dead!”

  Night had fallen as I sat there, remembering and crying.

  After a while, I finally rose and made my way back home again. All the cars were gone except for Nick’s pickup. At least that meant Mark hadn’t left yet. I wondered how they had explained my abrupt departure to the guests.

  I quietly made my way upstairs to my bedroom.

  All of my gifts were there, sitting on my bed. I groaned. I didn’t want any of them. I especially didn’t want the laptop. It would be too…painful.

  Every time I looked at it, I would hear those horrid words I had thrown at my dad. I tried to remember why a laptop had been so important to me, but it just seemed silly in the face of everything else that had happened.

  Not wanting to touch the things on my bed, I sank to the floor.

  How do I explain it to them?

  They would think I was crazy that a laptop could set off that type of reaction, but I figured they already suspected I was a candidate for the nuthouse.

  I was an emotional mess; I knew that.

  What I didn’t know was how to fix it.

  Looking back, I could honestly admit that I had been well on my way to becoming a spoiled brat by the time we moved. I’d been a junior high track star, all my friends were the popular kids in school, and I resented having to leave and start over in a new place where I knew no one.

  Meeting people had never been easy for me. Living in the same town my whole life up to that point, there hadn’t been a need for me to develop that skill. Remembering back to junior high I knew I had been guilty of treating new kids pretty much the same way I had been treated my freshman year at the new school…like I was invisible. Even though my freshman year we all started a new school at the same time, most of the other students already had their cliques from whatever junior high they had attended.

  I didn’t know anyone.

  Instantly, I’d become a loner.

  Suffering through school each day, eating lunch alone, and just trying to survive, I’d kept my head down and trudged along…Invisible seemed a better option than other possibilities.

  Once I joined the cross-country and track teams, I found I had a place to eat lunch but, even though I sat with the team, I still didn’t participate much.

  Between my dad’s disease, and the rejection I had suffered in high school up to t
hat point, happiness had become a fairy tale. Allowing myself to become a nonentity those first two years in high school, my self-esteem had plummeted to zero.

  Things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t overheard the conversation between my old ‘friend’ Serena and some of my other “friends” right before we moved to the new place.

  Serena Abbot, the undisputed leader of the ‘populars’, had invited me to join her group at the end of my seventh grade year, which explained my popularity.

  I did wonder at first why those girls would suddenly take an interest in me when they had ignored me all the way up through and including 6th grade and most of 7th, but I had shrugged it off, not wanting anything to spoil my chance to be with the “in” crowd.

  My parents decided not to tell me we were moving until I’d finished eighth grade. They realized it would really upset me, and they didn’t want to ruin the end of the school year for me.

  As usual, I reacted badly, and ran out of the house in tears headed straight for Serena’s house in need of sympathy. What I got was an earful.

  One of the maids answered the door, and directed me upstairs when I asked for Serena.

  The Abbots were one of the richest families in town. Their house was huge, and they hired live-in maids from somewhere…no one was exactly sure where…to keep the house spotless. Mr. Abbot’s family had been ranchers for generations, not rich, but doing okay for themselves, but Mr. Abbot’s father, Serena’s grandfather, had gone in a different direction. Investing heavily in drilling equipment, he began searching for oil on his land, and struck it rich. Serena’s dad had joined the new family business, but insisted on building his house in town. He hated the ranch.

  I heard the girls talking before I made it to the top of the stairs. Confident that they would understand and sympathize with me, I reached to push the slightly open door the rest of the way, but froze as their conversation and laughter reached my ears, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

  “…the cow.”

  “I can’t believe we wasted all that time on her,” Kathy complained.

  “Yeah, Serena, you promised us it would be worth it,” Chelsea chimed in.

  “How was I to know they would be moving before we got into high school,” Serena defended herself. “Besides, I got to be on the sidelines with the players at one of the high school football games.”

  “You did, but what about us? We were supposed to get something out of it, too,” Kathy again “letting her trail after us all the time was a pain.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Chelsea.

  “Look, the new football coach may end up having a daughter our age,” Serena soothed them, “and I did get to know a couple of the junior players. They’ll be seniors next year.”

  I hadn’t stayed around to listen to anymore. Getting down the stairs wasn’t easy with the blinding tears, but I made it out the front door without anyone realizing I had been there. I doubt Serena ever talked to the servants, that would be beneath her, so she would probably never know…or care.

  My first two years in the new high school might have gone much differently if I hadn’t overheard that confidence-destroying conversation, but at least it had stopped me in my tracks. I had been in danger of becoming a “Serena Clone”.

  Instead, I had turned into one of the invisible “new kids” that had only been noticed when Serena needed them to make herself feel better by becoming the butt of her jokes; the jokes I had laughed at…ironic.

  Again, I wondered what I would have done if Felicia hadn’t come along. She changed all of that. I had to believe that I was a better person…I needed to believe it.

  I guess I should start proving it, I sighed.

  Standing up, I made a decision. Mom and I need to talk and as soon as possible.