Chapter One

Author's Note: This has been combined with what was originally chapter two and is still in the editing phase.  Any suggestions are very helpful and encouraged.

Chapter One

September 12th, 2002 – 7:00pm (Thursday)

         I didn’t mean to make my first entry so short and repulsive.  I just got this diary from my mom for my fifteenth birthday, which was on the 9th.  I hadn’t gotten around to writing anything, and then when they started fighting, I just had to talk to someone.  That’s when I saw this diary laying on my computer desk and thought I would give it a go.  Mom did say that keeping a diary would help me deal with “becoming a woman”, now that I’m fifteen.

         I’ve got chocolate colored hair and my eyes are such a dark brown, everyone thinks they’re black at first glance.  I’m small for my age, or at least I am compared to all the other girls in school.  At least they’re out of their training bras.

         I live in a really small town in the Midwest that nobody outside of a fifty mile radius has ever heard of.  According to Mom, it used to be a metropolis and people would come from all around to attend concerts, go shopping, and eat at all the diners.  Now, all those shops and diners are closed.  The only thing good about this town is the Strip, the main drag in town.  On it are the school, small Italian restaurant, small three-screen theatre, library, and a gas station.  The Strip is the only place to go on weekends, other than the mall over in Centerville. 

         I have to admit that the scenery is beautiful.  There are small creeks running throughout the town and, since it’s the beginning of fall, all the trees have a hint of reddish orange to their leaves.  This, along with all the old houses, looks like it came straight from a postcard that would say ‘Wish You Were Here’.

         I don’t wish I was here, though.  I wish I was anywhere but here.

         My mom is awesome.  She has my hair, crystal blue eyes, and a smile to die for.  When Dad’s not around, she has a laugh that’s melodious, like a robin’s morning song.  She works while I’m at school so that she can be here when I get home.  She’s always got some kind of snack ready for me as soon as I walk through our heavy oak door.

         Our house is very roomy.  When you walk through the front door, you are standing in the narrow hallway.  Off the hallway to your left are a vast living room and a large kitchen that’s the size of a small restaurant.  To your right there are the two massive bedrooms, and at the end of the hallway is our sizeable bathroom with its garden tub.  One of the problems with this house is that it is about 50 years old and in desperate need of remodeling.  The oak floors are cracked and uneven, the ivory paint is peeling away, and the roof leaks in spots.

         The other problem I have with this house is my dad.  He’s a tall, gangly man with scrawny arms and bony hands, a beer gut that hangs over his pants, and a sneer that makes me gag.  Thank God he works a lot.  When he’s home, he watches TV while nursing beer after beer.  He gets mean when he drinks, and I guess that’s why I’ve grown to hate him.  He’s always been abusive towards my mom.  He gets angry for no apparent reason, screams at her, and hits her.  He’s never hit me, but I wouldn’t put it past him; so I try to just stay out of his way.

         My best friend’s name is Rachel.  She’s almost sixteen, but could pass for twenty any day.  She has eyes that change from blue to green and sometimes deep purple.  It all depends on her outfit.  She has enormous boobs and was in a training bra in fifth grade.  We’ve been friends since then, when all the boys would tease her.  Let’s just say they’re not teasing her anymore.

         Uh-oh, I just heard the door slam shut.  Dad’s home, so I’m going to go have dinner – hopefully.

8:11pm

         The putrid aroma of alcohol on his clothes told me he was drunk again tonight.  Big surprise.  He stumbled into the kitchen and peered into the boiling pot on the stove.

         “Whassis?” he slurred.

         “Dinner,” Mom told him as she wrapped her bruised arms around herself.

         He spun around in a flash and took hold of her shoulders.

         “You think I dunno that?  Maybe I should show you jus’ how smart I am,” he growled.  I saw his knuckles turning white as he gripped her arms tighter.

         “No, I’m sorry!  I-it’s soup, you like soup, right?” came her quick, frightened reply.  She stiffened, preparing for what came next.

         Slap!

         Mom’s knees buckled and she fell against the wall.  I knew then that if she fought back it would be even worse.

         I jumped as his heavy boots connected with her ribs.  I ran to my room, shut the door, and started writing.  I can still hear Dad’s drunken slurs and Mom whimpering and begging him to calm down.

         If I had one wish, it would be for Mom to get a divorce from Dad.  She and I could live in a house of our own, away from him.  It would be peaceful if we didn’t have to worry about Dad and how much he drinks when he gets off work.  Maybe he could come too, but only if he swore that he’d stop drinking.  He’s not too bad when he isn’t drunk.

September 13th, 2002 – 4:15pm (Friday)

         Today after school, I walked up the cracked sidewalk, through the oak door with peeling white paint, and into a dream come true! 

         I was shocked to see that Dad was home and Mom wasn’t.  He was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee steaming at his side.

         “Where’s Mom?” I whispered, afraid to awaken the demon inside him.

         Sounding almost sober, he said, “Come ‘ere.  I wanna talk to you.”

         I dropped my book bag by the door and walked over to sit at the table with him.  When he looked at me, I could tell he was trying to figure out what to say.  His hair was a mess and his eyes were puffy.

         “Your mom wants me gone; she has for a long time.  She finally got up the nerve and went to the attorney today and filed for divorce.  I had to come get some of my things.  When I’m gone, call her and let her know so she can come home.  She said to let you know that she’s just waiting for me to be out of the house before she leaves work.  I don’t know what her problem is.  I work my ass off to put food on this table, so what if I want a couple of beers when I get home?”

         I didn’t know what to do.  I felt shocked when tears came to my eyes.  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Oh, okay… I’ll call her then.”

         He sighed, stood up, and said, “I always tried to do right by you.  I love you.  I hope you know that.”

         I couldn’t hold back any longer.  I allowed my tears to fall and I walked over to him.  I looked at him for a moment, and then hugged him.

         “Love you, too,” I said, sniffling.  He hugged me a bit tighter in response.

         He then bent down, picked up his bags, and turned away.  When he walked through the front door, I heard a small sigh escaped from his lungs.  Whether it was a sigh of turmoil or relief, I’m still not sure.

         I can’t believe it happened.  I have wished and prayed for this day my whole life.  I don’t know why, but I feel… confused.

         I just called Rachel to ask if I could stay the night with her.  The silence in this house is deafening without Dad yelling and swearing.

September 14th, 2002 – 9:00pm (Saturday)

         I just got home from Rachel’s.  Last night, a few things happened that I have to tell someone about.  I’m happy Mom got me this diary; it’s like having another best friend.

         We were sitting on the floor playing Truth or Dare when it all started…

         “Dare,” I said with a heavy sigh. 

         Rachel’s mouth moved into an upward curl and she said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

         “Okay…” I cocked my head toward her, shrugged and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. 

         Her shoulders slumped as she said, “Your turn, I choose truth.”

         “Why’d you want me to do that?” 

         “You have to keep this a secret.  I think I’m bi.” 

         Shocked and not know what to do, I said, “Truth.”

         “Do you think I’m a freak now,” was her question for me.

         “’Course not!  How long have you been thinking about this?”

         She fidgeted with the zipper on the sleeping bag and said, “I don’t know… about a year.  I mean, I like boys and think they are cute, but sometimes I look at you and think you’re pretty and just want to kiss you.”

         I could feel my cheeks getting hot and said, “Oh.  Okay… well, truth or dare?” 

          “Dare.”

         “I dare you to kiss me back.” 

         Rachel’s emerald eyes sparkled as she leaned over and placed her hand on the back of my neck.  I felt all the tension in my shoulders relax when she pressed her lips to mine.

         I tasted the strawberry lip gloss Rachel always has on.  Her lips were damp like the grass in early morning dew and I felt her tongue press against my lips, which I slowly parted.  As I massaged Rachel's watery tongue with my own, I let out a small sigh.

         When we parted, I whispered, “See what you’ve started?”

         Rachel smiled and said, “I’m getting tired.  Let’s lay down… we can talk more tomorrow.” 

         We hugged, and I stretched out on her sleeping bag as Rachel turned out the light and flopped down on her bed.

         “Goodnight,” we said in unison.

***

         When we woke up this morning, we convinced Mrs. Patterson, Rachel’s mom, to take us to the mall in Centerville.  We had to get dresses for the school dance next month.  When we were finished shopping, we talked about our crushes and all the latest gossip at school.  I knew we were both thinking about last night, but I wasn’t going to say anything until she brought it up.

         After a while, Rachel blurted, “I really like you.  I mean, of course I like you, you’re my best friend!  But I mean, I liked playing Truth or Dare with you last night.  I just hope you aren’t freaked out or anything.”

         I wasn’t expecting her honesty.  I looked over at my childhood friend, took her hand and said, “Everything’s gonna be different now, but not in a bad way.  I just need to get through my parent’s divorce and then see how I feel.  We’re friends forever, no matter what.  Maybe you showed me something new about myself last night.  I had fun, too.”

***

         When I got home tonight, Mom and I had a small dinner that Mom had picked up from the Italian restaurant on her way home from work.  The taste of spices blended with baked chicken made my mouth water.  The smell of freshly baked Italian bread was intoxicating.

         I glanced at the empty chair across from me and that’s when everything finally sank in.  “You’re going to get a divorce, aren’t you?” I asked my mom. 

         “Yes I am, honey.  It’s just me and you now.” 

         I stood, hugged her, and said, “That’s okay.  I love you.”

         “I love you, too.”

         I was studying for the upcoming algebra test an hour later, when Mom knocked on my bedroom door.  I glanced at her door and said, “Yeah?”

         Mom came in and said, “You know some things are going to change, right?  I’ll have to work more hours and we’ll have to move to a smaller house.  I don’t want this divorce to make us drift apart.” 

         I saw tears starting to well up in her eyes.  “Mom, I know.  As long as I can remember, I’ve wished for a day when it was just us.  When we could live in a little house, by ourselves, and not have to worry about dad or how much he drinks when he gets home.”

         She walked over to my bed and sat down on the edge, embracing me in a tight hug.  “I don’t want you to hate your dad, though.  He tried to make a good living and take care of us.  He always made sure there was food on the table and any luxuries he could give us, he did.  He works a lot, and he wasn’t there much, but maybe you two can get closer now.  You can go stay the weekend with him anytime you want to.  Or a week or two in the summer.”

         “I know, Mom.  I don’t really want to, though.  I just want it to be us.  I haven’t really had a ‘Dad’ for the last thirteen years… why would I need, or want, one now?  I don’t like him because of what he did to you.  I’m glad he’s gone,” I said, pressing my lips together into a thin line.

         “Well, honey, just don’t block him out completely.  He loves you.  He might not show it like he should, or tell you, but he does.  He always will… you’re his little girl.”  After kissing me on the forehead, she stood up and left the room.

***

         I feel weird when Dad doesn’t come home from work, but I’m happy he’s gone.  The silence in the house is a constant reminder of him.  Maybe it will be better once Mom and I are in a new house.

         As for me and Rachel, I really don’t know what to say.  I liked kissing her; it was wonderful.  We are best friends and we have been since fifth grade.  It’s just that I have a crush on someone, and I know they like me too…

         Kevin Fox.  He is a total hunk!  He’s got the most beautiful hunter green eyes I have ever seen.  He’s tall, probably about 6’3, with muscular arms and washboard abs.  He’s a senior and a total jock.  Maybe that’s why we have kept our mutual crush a secret from everyone else.  A basketball stud like Kevin isn’t expected to date a shy junior who’s on the academic team.  He should be dating a cheerleader, someone who is as popular as he is.

         We have had a crush on each other since the beginning of the year, when he asked me if I would tutor him in algebra.  I go to his house every Monday night to help him study, and he is always telling jokes and finding ways to tickle me.  I love the way he laughs and his perfect, dimpled smile.

         I hope he is the guy who asks me to the school dance.  I’d love to see the faces of all the girls in school if we walked in together.