The Black Notebook

Isabelle Snow
 Copyright © 2017 by Isabelle Snow.

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental.

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 Table Of Contents

Entry 1: The Secret Keeper  

Entry 2: Colin Stillman  
Entry 3: Plan A – Confrontation  
Entry 4: Plan B - Ninja Style  
Entry 5: Plan C – Ninja Style Part Two & Plan D – Threat  
Entry 6: Plan E – Brute Force  
Entry 7: Plan F – Text Attack  
Entry 8: What If?  
Entry 9: Plan G – Who Said Slaves Can’t Have Minions of Their Own?  
Entry 10: Plan H – Reverse Psychology  
Entry 11: Well, That Didn’t Go As Planned  
Entry 12: Plan I – Retaliation  
Entry 13: Plan J – Spontaneity  
Entry 14: The Boyfriend  
Entry 15: Truths and Realization  
Entry 16: Plan K: Seduction  
Entry 17: One Last Try  
Entry 18: Fortunate Misfortunes  
Entry 19: All Good Things Come To an End  
Entry 20: The Black Notebook  
Entry 21: Ignorance Is Bliss—Being Ignored Isn’t  
Entry 22: Maybe It Isn’t Too Late  
Entry 23: The Beginning  
 Entry 1: The Secret Keeper

Date: March 7, 2013

Keeping a secret can be very exciting. To be trusted to hold onto something so delicate, to
know something no one else knows—things can become pretty interesting. But it can also feel
utterly exhausting.
Unfortunately, I only realized that last bit in the spring of my junior year. I was sitting
quietly in bio class, my tongue dry and a headache pounding inside my temple, when I started
feeling the effects of it.
Usually, classes granted me a brief moment of freedom and relaxation where nobody
would interrupt the teacher’s lecture and the only occasional disturbances were whispered
words and paper conversations. I know that sounds weird and definitely not what a normal
sixteen-year-old girl would think, but I had my reasons.
Somebody whispered my name and I turned my head microscopically to the side,
indicating that I’d heard them. The person sitting behind me slipped their arm around my
chair to shove a tiny carefully folded piece of paper into my hand.
My fingers automatically closed around it just as a soft sigh escaped my lips. Here we go
again.
Part of me already knew what message the note would hold even before I cautiously
spread the paper over my textbook, my eyes following the teacher’s movements. I looked
down.
Seven, I’ve got something to tell you later after class! – M
I knew it.
This, sadly, was nothing out of the usual.
I had always wondered why it was that people trusted me so much with their secrets. Or
perhaps it was just all one big coincidence that almost my entire batch—close to being the
whole school, in fact—told me everything.
A lot of people would gladly swap places with me, to have the opportunity to know others’
deepest secrets. For some, it was simply because they wished to know someone more, to feel
as if they were trustworthy, but those individuals were rare. More often than not, people just
wanted to use those secrets to their own advantage.
Maybe that was the reason why they trusted me; I didn’t want to hurt anybody and
genuinely liked helping other people.
But no matter how goody-two-shoes that sounds, I’m also human and have a lot of limits.
It had started out to be a little fun at first, pretending I was some Mother Goose, but as
more secrets flowed into my life things began getting more complicated than I had bargained
for. Even for me—and I wasn’t even part of the whole equation. I was only supposed to know
the problem and find a solution.
 Take Bianca, for example. Before I went to bio she had practically dragged me out of the
busy hallway and into a quiet corner so we could talk privately. With a blush on her cheeks,
she told me about her childhood friend, Brant.
You see, she has had this huge crush on him for almost her entire life. She was still unsure
of his feelings for her, but there were times when he’d show some hint of affection that
seemed to be for someone who was more than a friend. And just recently she’d realized that
perhaps she was already in love with him.
Now, although it was less frequent for boys to approach me with their secrets, Brant was
one of the few who did. And what did I find out?
Brant had liked Bianca for almost as long as she’d liked him. Great for them, right?
But now there was another girl, Minerva, who’d just transferred from another school
because she used to be bullied there. She confessed that she liked Brant too. He helped her out
with her studies and was just so sweet and kind to her that she couldn’t help falling for him.
This, Brant had told me, was because he was best friends with Minerva’s twin brother,
Marvin. And then here was the tricky part: Bianca and Minerva were best friends too.
Cue: It’s A Small World (After All).
I glanced over at Bianca, who was seated a few rows away from me and was laughing at
what Minerva had just whispered in her ear. They were probably oblivious to the fact that
they liked the same guy.
Glad that they’re having the time of their lives, I thought bitterly.
I actually didn’t mind this, really. I loved giving advice and helping people, but there are
times when nature should just take its course without any human intervention (that would be
me).
But since the aforementioned human intervention was asked for, I had to give it.
So I told Brant, “You should go for it. I think she’ll have a positive response,” and to
Minerva, “Well, I’m not so sure, honey. He might just be doing it because he’s friends with
your brother. You can’t do anything if the guy likes somebody else. If it’s yours, it’s yours. If
it’s not…it’s not, okay?” And just a little while ago, to Bianca, “Just keep the friendship up.
You can hint your feelings to him here and there but don’t be the one to initiate. If he likes
you, he’ll come around.”
I should get paid for this.
As the class went on around me, I glanced up at the clock on the wall and dreaded the
moment the hands would move to end the class. I begged with all my willpower for it to last a
little longer, but I was soon forced to come to terms with the fact that life was simply not fair.
In a matter of minutes, the teacher was already wrapping it up, announcing the homework,
and waiting for the bell. I closed my eyes and groaned under my breath, getting ready for
what was sure to come.
The bell sounded more like a scream to me when it rang, a scream that said: “Get out of
there now!”
And once we were allowed to, I did.
Sadly, there was a reason why I didn’t join the track and field or excel in any particular
sports.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder and I jumped guiltily, a squeal involuntarily leaving
my throat. I whirled around and faced a boy with short brown hair and a toothy grin. It was
Marvin, Minerva’s twin brother. “Seven, where are you going?” he asked. “Didn’t you get my
note?”
 I swallowed, guilt burning a hole through my stomach. I theatrically gasped and slammed
the heel of my hand against my forehead, saying, “Ah! Sorry, Marv! It completely slipped my
mind because I was, uh, thinking about the test in my next class, which I’ve got to go to right
now so…”
Marvin looked puzzled. “Um, Seven, we have the same class next period, which is English
Lit, and there’s no test today.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face, my acting faltering for only a second. I
quickly feigned laughter and wiped my brow with the back of my hand in relief. “Whew!
That’s—that’s great news! That totally slipped my mind, too. The test I was, uh, thinking
about must’ve been for another class. See? I’m getting really forgetful nowadays.” I shook
my head at myself for good measure.
Marvin’s confusion and slight worry immediately eased away and disappeared. He beamed
at me and said, “Good. Well, while we’re on the way to class, I do have something to tell
you.”
It seemed I had not said this specific line enough in my lifetime because here I was again,
saying for the umpteenth time, with that stupid smile plastered on my face, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, actually,” he said as we headed together to class. I knew most of the
people in school, and as we walked down the hallway several of them greeted me and hinted
that we needed to talk later for some reason. “So, you know my best bud, Brant, right? He’s
told me that you’re a pretty good listener. And…I’m getting these vibes that he’s got the hots
for my twin.”
I resisted the urge to open my mouth and immediately contradict that statement. I had to
choose my words carefully. There was a big chance that if Marvin found out that Brant not
only didn’t “have the hots” for his sister, but also didn’t tell him that he liked another girl,
their friendship just might come crashing down.
Two relationships destroyed in the process of one happy love story.
And depending on the words that I’d offer to them as advice, I would be responsible for
what would happen to these four individuals.
Sure, they wouldn’t blame me for it, but I’d feel so guilty that it would be as if they did. I
would just have to hope that they wouldn’t take the opposite direction of where my advice
was supposed to be leading them.
“You think so?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Marvin nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, he’s been helping her a lot with her studies even
when she doesn’t get the answer after letting him explain it, like, ten times already.” He rolled
his eyes and said, “But anyway, I think he and Minnie look good together. Wouldn’t that be
awesome if my best friend became my brother-in-law?” He let out a whoop of laughter.
I grinned at him, agreeing. “That would certainly be great, Marv,” I said then painted a
sober look on my face, “but I think you shouldn’t put words he didn’t say into his mouth.”
He considered it for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he thought, and then asked,
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he might like someone else,” I said with a light tone, keeping it as vague as
possible.
He nodded slowly, as if reaching a point of understanding. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, he
didn’t say anything to me about any girl he might like, so…” We reached the door of the
classroom and he looked up at me with a smile. “Thanks, Seven,” he said. “I’ll ask Brant first
then.”
“You do that,” I said. “And you’re welcome.”
 His group of friends, one of them being Brant, called him over to the back row where they
were all already seated. He greeted them cheerfully as I went to my own seat, which was
beside the window with the perfect view of the sky and the newly trimmed grass of the field. I
squinted at the sunlight. It was a beautiful morning.
Somebody took the seat beside me—a girl with short black hair and freckles dotting her
cheeks. Her name was Amanda, and I only knew her because she’d come to me before for the
same reason that Marvin came to me just a few minutes ago. “Hey, Seven,” she said, smiling
at me with teeth caged behind braces.
“Hi,” I said, flashing a smile her way.
She turned around in her seat so she could face me and leaned forward. Her dark eyes
darted to the sides to check for eavesdroppers before she whispered, “She’s at it again.
Remember the last time she did it?”
I stared blankly at her for a moment. What was her secret again?
I searched quickly through the folder in my brain where I kept all the things they told me
but—
ERROR: FILE COULD NOT BE FOUND.
This had been happening a lot lately.
A ton of them would come up to me, pulling me to the side and whispering, “He asked me
out!” or “What you told me really worked!” or “Code 1654, Seven”—seriously, was I really
supposed to know what that meant?
It had been subtler earlier when I was talking with Marvin, but whenever I was alone on
the way to my next class, lining up for lunch in the cafeteria or even in the bathroom, people
would approach me always—always—with something to say.
That’s probably why there are such things as secrets. Because they’re just better off untold
and not hammering your brain every single second of the day. It was a wonder I could still
remember most of them and yet couldn’t manage to memorize the terms for my history exam.
But right then my infernal memory block decided to grace me with its presence. I was
stuck.
Normally, if I couldn’t remember a secret, I would just laugh and say, “That’s great!” or
nod solemnly and add a vague comment depending on their facial expressions and the way
they’d said it, whether it was something to be excited, worried or angry about, and then I’d
swiftly slip out of what was going to be an awkward situation.
I obviously couldn’t do this right now.
I thought back to what she’d just said. She was the one who came to me with a problem
about her mother nagging at her for the smallest things and praising her siblings even when
they’ve caused total destruction, or the other one who was best friends with the most popular
girl at school and was convinced that her friend hated her and was plotting against her.
“Um,” I started. “I think you shouldn’t worry about it. She probably didn’t mean anything
by it and did it not knowing it would hurt you.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped as she gaped incredulously at me. She looked like I’d just shot her
mother in front of her eyes. “Seven,” she said, her anger boiling under the surface. “How can
you say that my sister didn’t mean anything by it when she practically threw herself at my
boyfriend and kissed him on the lips? And of course she knew it would hurt me—I was
standing right in front of them!”
Oh, so Amanda was the one who had a love triangle with her sister! How could I forget
that one?
 “Uh, no, that’s not what I meant!” I told her quickly, waving my hands around as if I could
somehow shoo away her anger at me for forgetting her dilemma. “What I was saying was
that…maybe she didn’t mean to hurt you because…because…she’s so in love with your
boyfriend that it blinded her from seeing that he’s already yours. Love is blind, right? I think
it’s…it’s not only relating to the physical appearance of one person to another but also the
consequences of their actions.”
Amanda paused, eyeing me warily, and then asked, “Really?”
“I’m not sure but it’s a possibility,” I said, shrugging. “You’re a reader like me, right,
Amanda? So you’ve probably read romance novels with your very same situation, but the
difference is that your sister is the main character. Maybe—maybe—she thinks that she’s the
exception, that perhaps in the end your boyfriend will suddenly realize that he loves her too.
Just talk to her about it, make her understand your point while putting yourself in her shoes,
too.”
Before Amanda could reply with anything to that, the teacher strode into the classroom and
everybody settled into their seats. Amanda turned back to the front without saying a word to
me. I could feel my sweat dripping as nervousness held me in its grasp.
I distracted myself by taking notes and glancing occasionally at the view outside the
window. I could see another class jogging in the field, one of the students being a boy with
red hair. He ran faster than the others, and as they asked him to wait up, his laughter boomed
with freedom and joy.
I was watching him with a small smile on my lips when I felt something nudge my hand.
I looked down at my desk to find my second piece of passed note for the morning. I
checked to see if the teacher was looking, and when I was sure he wasn’t, I unfolded the paper
to see message within.
Sorry for exploding like that earlier. It’s just been really hard for me these days. Anyway, I
think you might be right. I’ll talk to my sister tonight. Thanks, Seven – A
I turned to look at Amanda, who was already staring at me, waiting for my reaction. I
smiled at her, reassuring her that it was alright, and nodded. Relieved, she grinned at me and
returned to her own copied notes and idle doodles.
I closed my eyes and, with a sigh, rubbed my temples. This was going to be a long day.

***

Later, as I opened the door to my house and sauntered in, my phone vibrated in the pocket of
my jeans—again. This was for the eighth time all throughout the way home. Just as it was
normal for people to practically lay their secrets at my feet, texting me their problems or
calling me wasn’t out of the ordinary either. Most of the time I just chose to ignore it and
make the excuse later that I didn’t notice it or didn’t get the message.
I took a deep breath and immediately smelled the delicious scent of fish being fried. My
feet carried me over the wooden floorboards, which creaked in familiar tones, welcoming me
home from a whole day out in the harsh world full of strangers.
I ended up in our kitchen, which looked almost the same as it did the day we bought the
place. The counter was polished to a shine and the drawers and cabinets were empty of dust
and cobwebs. Insects were nowhere to be found near our food supply, and the utensils used
for both cooking and eating were spotlessly clean.
Standing in front of the stove was my hardworking mother, the inky black hair that I’d
inherited from her cut in a short bob just below her chin. She looked up at me just as I was
about to enter her beloved territory.
 “Are your shoes dirty?” she immediately asked while flipping a fish over in a pan.
“Nice to see you too, Mom,” I said, frowning. “And no, my shoes are clean of any mud or
wet substances that may stain your gloriously immaculate kitchen floor.”
“That’s my big girl. You know me so well. Now come over here and give your mommy a
hug,” she said, grinning at me and extending her arm out. I walked over to her tentatively,
avoiding the oil popping in the pan, and wrapped my arms around her waist. She kissed my
forehead, her eyes trained on the fish as if it would all of a sudden jump up and run out of the
door. “So how was your day?”
I shrugged, opening the refrigerator and bringing out some juice. “It was just the same as
always.”
“Anything new or interesting happening lately?” she asked as she lifted the fish out of the
pan and onto a plate. She got another fish and quickly placed it in the pan where it
immediately sizzled upon contact.
“If you mean besides the cool new book I just bought on the way home, then nope,
nothing.”
She sighed as she added some seasoning to the fish and turned to me with a raised
eyebrow. “Seven, you should really do something more for yourself besides stuffing your
nose in a book.”
Mom had no idea how accurate her statement was for my current situation. I didn’t exactly
tell her that I held almost all of the secrets of almost everybody in school within the palm of
my hand—albeit I forgot some of them. The truth was that I was only starting to realize how
unjustified the whole thing was for me.
Whenever someone was sinking in a sticky situation, I’d grab their flailing hands and try to
pull them out, even if it got me tangled up in the process. But I couldn’t say that people did
the same for me.
I suppose it wasn’t their fault, because I never said anything. I never shouted for help, I
never flailed my hands around, hoping somebody could see my distress and pull me out—and
there was a reason for it. From what I’ve witnessed, heard, and been told of, people could stab
a sibling’s back as easily as they would a potential enemy.
I certainly wasn’t going to trust them in helping me with my secrets and problems. I would
just have to find a way to pull myself out.
And with that thought in mind, I didn’t share anything about myself to others; although, I
was friendly and seemingly open with them. So nobody knew that, even though I had a lot of
friends, I couldn’t find a place where I belonged. Nobody knew that I had a crush on a boy
who would never notice me or see me as more than an ordinary looking girl that he’d passed
by several times in the hallway. Nobody knew that truly, deep inside, I was insecure and
alone.
As I poured orange juice into a glass, my cell vibrated again. I took it out and glanced at
the screen. Seeing the number of unread messages and missed calls, I slipped it back into my
pocket and said, “That is something I’m doing for myself, Mom. It entertains and distracts me
from this very boring world we live in.”
My mom shook her head at me and flipped the fish again. “Sometimes I wonder if it really
was a bad thing that your father and I didn’t have another child. If all our other children
turned out like you, I’d be extremely frightened.”
“Haha. Funny, Mom,” I deadpanned after swallowing gulps of my juice.
She sighed. “Your father’s still at work,” she said, changing the subject. “He’s coming
home late tonight.”
 “Doesn’t he always?” I asked with a faint smile. My father worked as a lawyer, and with
the many cases he was handling, we seldom got to see him. He loved his job, even if he had to
work six days a week. We usually spent weekends together, but sometimes even then he’d be
called back to the office for some emergency new case that needed to be dealt with right
away.
I usually didn’t mind it and mostly appreciated the fact that my dad worked so hard that
my mom didn’t even need to find a job to support the family—but I missed him terribly.
“Seven, you know that if he could he would come home earlier and eat dinner with us,”
my mom told me in a placating tone.
“Yeah, I know,” I said and placed my used glass in the sink. “I’m going to my room.”
“Before you go,” Mom said, just as I was at the doorframe of the kitchen, “I want to know,
what happened to you?”
“Huh?” I asked, confused. “Nothing in particular, why?”
“You look like you were run over by a truck,” she said, giggling behind her hand.
I stared at her, unamused. She probably meant the baggage I had under my eyes, the
unhealthy pale color of my cheeks and the dry, chapped lips. I didn’t even want to think about
what a mess my hair must be. “If that was what happened, I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”
I asked, not even trying to hide my sarcasm from her.
But she didn’t mind. Instead she smiled and said, “Touché. Dinner will be ready in twenty
minutes.”
“Okay,” I mumbled weakly as I treaded up the stairs like a soldier coming back from war.
Once I saw the entrance to my room, my stiff shoulders relaxed and I could feel a wave of
relief washing over my whole body. I opened the door and smiled as my eyes automatically
wandered over to the tall shelf full of different books of varying genres, sizes, and colors.
Books have always been a safe haven for me, a key to another dimension where I could be
someone who wasn’t Seven Warrilow and have an adventure that Seven Warrilow wouldn’t
have dared to join.
I ran my fingers across the spines, their rough textures and the smell of both new and old
pages greeting me like old friends.
I removed the book I’d just bought from its plastic and gazed at it with longing. I could
just easily kick off my shoes, curl up into a ball at the corner of my bed, and get lost in it.
But I’d have to go off on my journeys later because I had homework to do.
After carefully putting it beside the last book in my shelf, I headed to my old wooden desk
and spread out what I needed to finish. I prioritized the assignments that needed to be passed
early in the morning and set aside the ones due next week. Once I was finished, I took out my
diary, which was a small black notebook, and started to write about my day:
Dear Diary,
I saw him again. He was jogging in his class, as happy as ever. It always amazes me how
full of energy he is. Besides that, today was just like any other day. People came to me and
told me their secrets but I’m having a hard time remembering some and it nearly got me into
trouble with one girl earlier. It’s a good thing it was only one girl, but anyway, I need to
figure this out. I can’t keep on living like this.
I paused in my writing and then glanced at my stack of black notebooks, which were all
lined up on a shelf. They were all Moleskine black notebooks that I’d fallen in love with on
sight in the nearby bookstore where I usually bought my books. Seeing as there were only a
few left, I’d bought all of them and kept them for future use. I was already more than halfway
through the very notebook I was writing in and I had approximately six or so more.
 As I stared at the way the black leather shone under my desk lamp, an idea clicked into
place.
What if I just wrote down all the secrets I knew instead of squeezing them all into the
capacity of my brain? That would certainly be easier. It would be like keeping a planner or
another diary, but meant for other people.
Buzzing with excitement, I pushed aside my diary and grabbed one of the black notebooks.
I opened it to the front page and started writing.
Bianca is in love with Brant, who also likes her.
Minerva likes Brant and her twin brother, Marvin, approves of it.
Amanda’s sister likes her boyfriend.
Delilah has a crush on Mr. Lancaster (who is a teacher at our school, by the way) and she
thinks he likes her back.
Jake and Tiffany are always making out in the janitor’s closet during their free time.
The list went on. Secret upon secret spilled out of the ink of my pen, staining the
previously blank pages. I filled one page, two, three, four, and so on. I wrote feverishly,
bending over the little notebook as if the wind that slipped through my open window might
snatch it away.
When I was done and had encoded every secret I could remember—and there were,
surprisingly, a lot more than I had expected. I stared at the black notebook. I had almost
reached halfway through. I closed it and held it in my hand. It felt a little heavier than before,
like the weight of the world was inside.
I leaned back in my chair and let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I was a little
closer to understanding what all of those people felt after telling me their secrets, the meaning
of their relaxed features and relieved sighs. I felt better…freer, as if I didn’t have to hold the
burden on my shoulders alone anymore.
I placed my homework and my textbooks back into my bag and included the black
notebook, securing it in a front pocket where I could have easy access to it. I ripped the zipper
shut just as my mom called from downstairs, “Seven! Dinner’s ready!”
I dropped my bag on the floor beside my desk and quickly headed out of the room. “I’m
coming!”
 Entry 2: Colin Stillman

Date: March 8, 2013

Colin Stillman stood out among the boys of his year. It wasn’t like he was the most popular
guy in school. It was just that while other boys would be lounging around, their arms around
their girls, wearing their cool jackets, you could usually spot him running up and down the
halls, getting chased by a friend or two for pulling a prank.
He was a senior, a year older than me, but sometimes he seemed less mature. That didn’t
turn me off though. If possible, it made me even more interested in him.
He was tall, around six-foot, but not so tall that when I passed him in the halls I needed to
tilt my head that far back to glance up at him. He had red hair, which was one of the many
reasons why his presence inside a room practically demanded attention. He had these
beautiful emerald green eyes, an arrow-straight nose, heavy eyebrows and fair, smooth skin.
He was undeniably attractive; the kind of attractive that would make a girl give him a
second, more appreciative glance. Several had already confessed their feelings to him, seeing
how friendly and kind he was to people, but they tended to forget that he was the boy
notorious for never taking anything seriously.
Needless to say, there had been many broken hearts.
I stood in front of my locker for a long time, hugging my books with one arm and holding
onto the door with my other hand, even though I already had everything I came for. I was
watching Colin from a distance, as I always did, as he wrapped an arm around his friend and
laughed. He said a joke I couldn’t hear and they all joined him in laughter.
I’d had a crush on Colin Stillman for as long as I could remember, and right then, my
whole body longed to walk across the hall and shamelessly hop in with the joke and laugh
along, just so I could stand beside him for the third time in my whole life.
The first time was my first day of high school and I’d been waiting in the office for my
schedule. He came confidently strolling in with that bedazzling smile that swept me off my
feet the moment I saw it. He stood beside me, not even sparing me a glance, and asked the
woman by the counter something that I couldn’t understand because I was too busy staring at
him in awe.
It was a good thing I hadn’t drooled right there and then.
The second time was in the cafeteria, when we were lining up for our lunches and his
elbow accidently hit me on the shoulder (he was gesturing wildly and it hurt a lot). He turned
to me and apologized with a dorky and absolutely adorable peace sign. I murmured a small
“It’s okay,” and then he looked away, back to his own world.
I know it sounds pathetic, especially since I was the one who told those who came to me
with love problems to take courage by either telling somebody they loved them or to watch
them with somebody else. I was also the one who told them to just casually say hi and make
conversation when the opportunity presented itself, and the one who told them that if the
person they liked didn’t seem to show any hint of reciprocated feelings whatsoever to suck it
up and move on.
 But the cold harsh truth was that I was as good as giving advice as I was bad at following
it.
“Hey, Seven,” a girl named Faye said to me as she opened her own locker, which was
beside mine.
I quickly snapped out of my reverie and said, “Hi.”
“What were you staring at? You look like a zombie who just saw some brains,” she said
and chuckled at her own joke.
I laughed softly and shook my head. “It’s nothing. I’m a bit tired”—which wasn’t a lie—
“and I was just thinking about…stuff.”
Thankfully, Faye didn’t pry. “Okay then.” I glanced at her face briefly and noticed the dark
circles under her eyes.
Furtively, I pulled the black notebook out of my bag and searched for Faye’s secret. It had
turned out to be really useful. Whenever somebody with another secret would come to me, I
could easily just write it down and not worry about forgetting it later.
After finally finding what I was looking for, I slipped it back in and asked, “By the way,
how’s your brother?”
Faye had told me just a week ago that her brother had impregnated someone after a one-
night stand he’d completely forgotten about. When the girl came to him and their parents
found out, they went ballistic. Faye came from a very rich family that owned several well-
known businesses. I occasionally saw her in the newspapers and once on TV with her family,
and if the secret about her brother were ever leaked, their family would be ruined.
I felt honored, of course, that Faye had trusted me with this secret and hadn’t told any of
her friends yet. She and I used to go to the same middle school, so I supposed she was closer
to me than any other person in school I knew.
Faye smiled but I could see that it was strained. “He’s fine, although still coping with what
happened. Our parents are…well, you know how they are.”
Lowering my voice, I asked, “What about the girl?”
She gave me a look that said she was thankful. “Well, her parents don’t know a thing yet
since there’s no…evidence.” Her hand casually went over her stomach and I nodded to show
that I understood. “We’re still trying to figure out what to do. My brother doesn’t want to
have anything to do with her but my dad says that he has to take care of…you know.”
She probably meant the baby. “No offense,” I said, “but he should own up to his
mistakes.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured me, “I say the same thing. It’s his fault for always sleeping
around.” Her eyes flashed briefly with anger and then she shook her head, sighing. “I’m sorry,
Seven. I shouldn’t burden you with this secret but…I don’t know who else to turn to.”
“It’s alright,” I said, smiling kindly at her. I gave her a one-armed hug, which she
immediately responded to, her arms tightening around me. “You and your family will get
through this.” I let her go but not before one more comforting squeeze.
She detached herself from me and nodded, with barely detectable tears in her eyes. “Thank
you so much,” she whispered to me before she closed her locker and walked away.
I closed my own locker and was going to head to my next class when I heard familiar
laughter behind me. I collided against something and then I was down on the ground before I
could understand what was happening. My books spilled out of my arms and my hand and
elbow slammed into the polished floor, taking the damage that my face should’ve gotten.
I heard several gasps around and I was thankful for my long black hair, which was acting
as a protective veil over my flushed face.
 Bumping into someone and tripping? That was so elementary school. How embarrassing.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry!” an also familiar voice said, triggering an alarm in my brain. A hand
shot out and grabbed my elbow, pulling me. When I got to my feet, I ran a hand through my
hair and looked up to meet the very same emerald eyes I’d been daydreaming about just
minutes ago.
For the first time since I’d ever seen him, Colin Stillman looked worried, all laughter
drained from his face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded mutely as he helped me up, his touch burning my skin in a good way—if there
was a good way to be burnt.
Beside him, a guy scowled at him and said, “That’s what you get for stealing people’s
stuff. Now give me my bag back!”
Instantly the naughty grin he was known for was back on Colin’s face. He took hold of
both of my shoulders and jumped behind me. I let out a frightened yelp just as his friend
reached out to snatch his bag but Colin steered me so that I was shielding him.
“Don’t rain on my parade, my friend,” he said slyly, his breath tickling the back of my
neck. “You’ll have to catch me—if you can, that is.” And with a laugh, he let go of me and
took off.
I spun around to look at him and found him glancing over his shoulder at me as he ran. He
grinned and waved at me. “Thanks for being my shield, girlie!”
“Come back here, Stillman!” his friend shouted, and although he obviously was tired of the
chase, he was grinning too.
This, I realized, was the powerful effect of Colin Stillman. No wonder people crowded
around him like he was a star that had fallen out of the sky. His very presence and easy
friendliness, with just a dash of mischief, was like a lighthouse that led many ships ashore.
I’d always thought a person with many friends doesn’t have any at all, but I wondered if
that was the case for Colin. He was always running, always having fun—so much of it that I
couldn’t imagine a single problem weighing him down. I knew that wasn’t true because
nobody was perfect, despite how some people seem to be pretty close to it, but I just
wondered.
“Seven, are you alright?” somebody asked. When I turned to look at them, I realized that
Brant must’ve been standing there all this time.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding at him reassuringly. “I’m fine.”
“Here, let me help you,” he said, ever the gentleman, and bent down to pick up my books,
which were scattered in the hallway.
“You don’t have to,” I said and helped him pick them up. Once I’d gotten them all back in
my arms I smiled and thanked him.
Brant shrugged. “I kind of owe you for taking the time to talk with me about…you know.”
I shook my head and assured him, “It’s no big deal. I’m just glad to help.”
“Yeah, well, your help paid off,” he said, grinning happily.
My eyes went wide as I asked, “You finally asked her out? What did she say?” although I
already knew what Bianca would say, of course.
“At first she said that I didn’t really need to ask her out since we always go out to eat and
hang out, but then I told her that I meant it differently than I did before,” he said, and for a
moment, he seemed to be glowing. “She was ecstatic.”
“Aw, that’s great for you guys!” I said sincerely. “So, where are you taking her?”
As Brant and I talked on the way to class I wondered when the time would come when I
would be asked out by a guy.
 It wasn’t as if I was hideous or anything. I had long black hair, dark eyes, average height
with just the right amount of curves, but a girl could start to doubt herself when she’s a year
away from the end of her high school days and there still weren’t any boys who looked at her
as more than a friend.
It was such a sad thought that I chose to ignore it, mostly because I didn’t want to show
any hints to Brant or anybody else around me that I was practically eating myself from the
inside already, or that what I really, really wanted was for the guy who just bumped me earlier
to say something to me, other than an apology.
But I knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.
If only I knew how wrong I was.

***

“This is only between the two of us, okay?”

“Sure,” I said with a reassuring smile, just as the bell rang and everybody else in the room
quickly dashed into their seats. Our next subject was history and the teacher, Mrs. Keys, was
known to be stricter than the disciplinarian. A single accidental noise made while she was
teaching would be more than enough for her to ask you to stand in front of the class for the
whole period.
“It will be our secret,” I told the girl sitting beside me, Veronica, and she immediately
released a sigh of relief.
“Thanks a lot, Seven,” she whispered as she turned to the front. I did the same, and in that
exact moment, Mrs. Keys walked into the room, chin held high and heels clicking on the
floor. Silence fell upon the students in the room like a warm blanket as she quietly placed her
things on the desk.
Her eyes scanned the room suspiciously behind rectangular spectacles before she said,
“We’ll be having a little seatwork today before the lesson. I’ll write the questions on the
board. Answer them in a notebook or a piece of paper, whichever you prefer. I don’t think I
need to tell you to keep your mouths shut while you do it.”
With that, she turned away from us and started scratching words on the board with squeaky
chalk. Besides that, the only other sound was the shuffle of papers and bags. As I took out a
notebook, I patted around the front pocket for the black notebook. I needed to write down
Veronica’s secret before I forgot it later on.
My hand dug in deeper but there was nothing. Dread filled me all the way to my toes and
fingertips, quickening my heartbeat. The pocket was empty.
The black notebook was…gone.
Resisting the urge to utter a curse, I glanced up at the teacher to check that she wasn’t
looking before I grabbed my entire bag and searched everywhere—the other front pockets,
inside the bag, and a secret pocket at the back but it was nowhere to be found.
I was full on panicking. My mind went back to places I’d been, things I’d touched, and
people I’d talked to. Where did I lose it? When did I lose it? I was pretty sure it wasn’t at
home; I used it earlier this morning. If that was so, then that meant—
“Ms. Warrilow, is there a problem?” Mrs. Keys asked, pausing in her writing and
narrowing her eyes.
Seats creaked as everybody else in the room quietly turned to look at me. I raised my eyes
to her and swallowed. I wanted to ask her if I could go to the bathroom, just so I could look
for the black notebook, but I didn’t know if she even allowed that, as ridiculous as that
sounds.
 Instead, I cleared my throat and shook my head, saying, “No, ma’am.”
She stared at me coolly for a while before resuming her writing. I carefully placed my bag
on the floor before dragging a hand down my face and silently cursing myself.
I thought back to all of the secrets that I’d written in that black notebook, some ridiculous
and nowhere near serious, while others could ruin relationships and people’s lives in the
process. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I had to find that black notebook, even if it was the
death of me.
People had trusted me with their secrets and I’d lost them—literally.
Waiting for class to end was torture. After the seatwork, a lecture quickly followed and I
couldn’t help but keep cracking my knuckles nervously or wiping my sweaty hands on my
jeans. I kept turning back and looking at the clock, hoping that the hand had moved some
more, but only a minute had passed every time I looked.
I had a feeling I was close to insanity, especially with the dizzying effects of thoughts like:
I hope nobody found it yet. Who am I kidding? This is high school. People steal each other’s
homework every morning and we call it normal. What if somebody did find it? What if
they’re reading it while I’m losing my mind right now? What if it was one of the people who
came to me for advice? What would they think of me? What if it someone who wanted to
mean another person harm? They could read the person’s secret and plot an evil master plan
right now. Why isn’t the bell ringing already?
Even Veronica was giving me odd looks.
At last, for what felt like an eternity, the bell came exactly on time and I immediately
rushed out of my seat and was first out of the door.
Thinking quickly, I retraced my steps earlier this morning. First, I came to school and was
met by a boy named Gordon, who talked to me about his friend who seemed to be taking a
video game too seriously. Whenever he won, his friend would swear and curse a lot and then
wouldn’t talk to him for a few days.
I ran out of the building and to the front gates of the school. From there, I went on a frantic
search in the grass where I’d walked about this morning. Everything was clear.
I couldn’t remember what I’d told Gordon, but I remembered walking with him to my
locker to get my things.
I headed back inside the building and toward my locker. I nearly ripped the door open and
ransacked the books inside but still the black notebook was nowhere to be seen.
After my locker, I’d gone to my first class, but I couldn’t go there now. So instead I went
for the girls’ bathrooms. I’d only been on the first floor for today so I checked all four of them
and ran my eyes over the counter, the sinks, under the sinks, inside the stalls, behind the
toilets and the trashcans, but it wasn’t there.
I even asked the janitor, “Have seen a black notebook? It’s small—about this size. Have
you?”
The woman looked surprised and perhaps a little frightened at how urgent my tone was. I
didn’t even want to begin to think about what I looked like right then. My hair was probably a
rat’s nest and my forehead was likely glistening with sweat.
She shook her head and said, “Sorry, no.”
I stomped out of the girls’ bathroom, and as I passed people rushing to their next class, I
asked again, “Excuse me, have you seen a black notebook?”
But sadly, none of them had.
I continued searching frantically around the school, hoping I’d just missed the black
notebook somehow and it was actually right under my nose, but it was nowhere in sight.
 I tried to ignore the fact that the second bell had already rung, meaning that, if I didn’t get
my butt on the seat in my next class in two minutes, I was going to be late. The hallway was
eerily quiet. Everyone else was already in class. I pulled at my hair in frustration. This was
hopeless.
I turned, planning on rechecking the places I’d gone to, and bumped straight into a brick
wall. I stumbled back and felt two hands rest on my shoulders, steadying me. I looked up and
I must’ve been dreaming, because, for the second time that day, Colin Stillman was standing
in front of me, his face just inches from mine.
“It seems we’re always bumping into each other, huh?” he said, smirking. “So, you’re
Seven, right? Some of my friends know you.”
Okay, so it wasn’t a dream. And he knew my name!
“Um, yeah…” I murmured lamely, a blush tainting my cheeks from how intently he was
looking at me. I couldn’t believe it! I was usually so fluent, so easy with words whenever I
was giving advice, but right then, just when I had the chance to talk with the one boy whom I
wanted to notice me, I was tongue-tied.
Speaking of advice, I suddenly remembered the very reason I was out in the halls and not
in my geometry class. I took a deep breath, summoning up the little courage I had, and asked,
“Have—have you seen a black notebook anywhere in school?”
Colin raised his eyebrows and echoed, “A black notebook?”
“Yeah, it’s about this small,” I said, trying to show him the size with my hands. “I don’t
know where I’ve lost it and it’s really important to me.”
“Hmm…” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his green eyes lingering on me. Was it
just me or did I see a twinkle of mischief in those eyes?
With a barely-there smile, he slipped his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and
brought out the exact black Moleskine notebook I had been looking for. “You mean this?”
“Yes,” I breathed out in relief as I grinned up at him. He gave me a Cheshire cat smile.
“Thank you. I—”
As I went to take it, he suddenly pulled back, keeping it just out of my reach.
“Now,” he said slowly, “what makes you think I’m going to give it back just like that?”
I blinked at Colin in surprise. “Because…because it’s mine,” I said, too confused to find a
better reason.
He chuckled and looked at the black notebook in his hand. “I suppose,” he said and then
glanced at me from the corner of his eye, “but that would be boring.” He leaned closer, close
enough that I could feel his warmth radiating off him. He met my eyes and, if only the
situation were different, it would’ve been romantic. “Pry it out of my cold dead fingers.”
My eyes widened in utter shock. He suddenly laughed and said, “I’m just kidding. That
was too serious.”
My lips twitched into a hesitant smile and I reached for the notebook again but Colin
stepped away just in time and laughed—the same laugh that I had thought was so full of
freedom and joy, that an hour ago I couldn’t have imagined being irritated about.
“Fooled ya!” he laughed and started jogging backwards while waving the black notebook
in the air. “Take it from me—if you can, that is!”
I gaped at him. He was so—he was so childish! All this time that I’d been admiring him
from a distance; I thought he was simply fun to be with and always just kidding around, but
this was an entirely new level.
 I was so wrong about him. It was as if I’d been sleepwalking all this time and now I was
finally fully awake. He wasn’t the boy that I’d dreamed about whisking me off my feet and
running into the sunset with.
This was Colin Stillman—and he was a jerk.
Just as he disappeared around a corner, my hands curled into furious, trembling fists. A
sudden rage that I didn’t know I could hold filled me up. He had no idea who he was dealing
with.
So he wanted to play this game? I thought to myself. Fine, I’ll play with him—but I’m sure
not planning on losing.
Colin Stillman, you’re going down.
 Entry 3: Plan A – Confrontation

Date: March 11, 2013

The first thing I woke up to on Monday morning was my mom screaming in my ear: “Seven!
Why are you sleeping on the desk?”
My eyes immediately snapped open and the sunlight that streamed through my window
nearly blinded me. I groaned, raising a hand to cover my face, and suddenly felt something
wet around my mouth. I sat up, my stiff muscles popping and my head aching. I looked
around.
I was sitting on my chair, with tons of crumpled papers scattered on my desk, and there
were messy words and drawings that I’d scrawled in one of my schoolbooks. My lamp was
still on and it illuminated the pool of drool on the hard wood where I had slept the whole
night.
I turned my head slowly towards my mom, who looked at me like I was crazy. “I…I think
I was doing homework,” I mumbled sleepily, but I knew that it wasn’t homework.
Last Friday, the worst day of my life so far (worse than the time I was running in the park
with vanilla ice cream in my hand and bumped into an old man, getting it all over his nice
sweater. He looked horrified and I felt so embarrassed and so mortified at what I’d done that I
cried all the way home after my mom had profusely apologized to him and taken me away), I
had waited after school for Colin in the place where I knew he usually exited the building.
When he finally arrived with his group of friends, he actually had the guts to smile at me
and say, “Goodbye, Seven.”
Any other day that would’ve made me walk back home on clouds, but that day was
different. “Give it back to me, Colin,” I’d said to him with gritted teeth. “I mean it.”
“Didn’t I tell you already?” he told me, walking away slowly with that stupid smile on his
face. “That would be too boring. And I don’t do boring stuff.”
Determined, I’d stomped back home and immediately shut myself inside my room. For the
whole weekend I went through my sci-fi, thriller, and suspense novels and movies, analyzing
how the hero had fought the villain and got what they wanted in the end. It wasn’t much of a
strategy, but it was all that I had. And I had to protect everybody’s secrets.
Even as the calls and texts came again, I ignored them, not because I was starting to get
annoyed or was tired, but mostly because I felt too guilty to talk to anyone about any more
secrets.
With all the information I had, I tried to mark out a plan that I could unravel first thing on
Monday. And that morning, despite my sluggish appearance, I was ready.
My mom shook her head incredulously at me and said, “Well, whatever it was you were
doing, it must’ve taken you all night because you overslept and now you’re going to be late
for school if you don’t get in the shower right now.”
“But, Mom, what about—”
“Forget breakfast, Seven.”
 I whined as she left the room and I headed to the bathroom with fresh clothes in my arms.
In the shower, as hundreds of warm droplets fell on me, washing away my tension and
morning fatigue, I took deep, slow breaths.
Thinking about talking to Colin still gave me the occasional butterflies, but I kept
reminding myself that he wasn’t as good a person as I thought he was. I needed to prepare
myself for this.
After I’d done my morning preparations, I was out of the door with my backpack over my
shoulders and on the way to school.
Even though I had several ideas on how to get the black notebook back sneakily, or in a
way where Colin would have had no choice whatsoever (at least I hoped), I knew that I had to
take baby steps first. I would beg him verbally, pleading again and again. I had to make Colin
think that that was all I could do.
So, the moment I saw him in school, I strolled over to him, pushing aside my shyness, and
said, “Colin.”
“Well, hello there,” he replied cheerfully. He was wearing a checkered shirt over a long-
sleeved black undershirt and old jeans, but despite its plainness and slightly tattered
appearance, he looked amazing. “And what do I owe the pleasure of your company this
morning?”
As we walked through the hallway together, people greeted and waved at us, and while I
responded as I usually would, I whispered to him, “Please, Colin. Give me back my
notebook.”
“Why do you want it so much? Hey, buddy!” he said, grinning at a friend who was just
passing by.
“I told you—it’s important to me.”
“Hmm…yes, but I want to see exactly how important,” he said, smiling at me
mischievously.
The blood drained from my face. “Don’t you dare look inside!”
“Oh, daring me now, huh?” he asked, chuckling. He was obviously enjoying tormenting
me. What did I ever see in this guy? “I like dares.”
Panicking, I thought quickly and said, “Please. I beg of you. What do you want? I’ll do
anything.”
His emerald eyes sparkled with interest and danger and everything else in between.
“Anything?” he asked.
The way he was looking at me held so many frightening possibilities that I started to say,
“Um, on second thought—” but then I remembered all the things I’d written in that black
notebook, all the secrets that I was supposed to be responsible for keeping. “No! I mean—
ugh!”
Colin laughed and I distractedly noticed the crinkles around his eyes. Man, his laugh
sounded really nice.
Idiot! Focus! I told myself, mentally shaking my head.
“You’re funny, Seven.” He suddenly stopped at a classroom door—it must’ve been his
first class—and turned back to me. “But that isn’t going to convince me to give it back to
you.”
“But—”
“Excuse me, Ms. Warrilow, are you in this class?” the teacher, who was already seated at
the desk inside, asked me, cocking an eyebrow.
 Fortunately, most of the students in the room were too busy laughing and talking to notice
us, but there were a few who looked over curiously. I shrank back and shook my head. “No,
sir.”
“Well, I suggest you go back to your class right now or you’re going to be late,” he said,
shuffling papers and pushing his seat back, the chair’s legs screeching against the floor. As I
nodded, Colin snickered at me.
I glared at him and was starting to turn away but his voice called after me tauntingly, “See
you later, Seven.”

***

I’ve always loved math. It was easy but, at times, challenging. It was simple and always had
an answer, even if that answer was a negative, a zero, or an undefined. That was one of the
reasons I chose twelfth grade calculus as one of my subjects for junior year.
And another reason was so that I could be with Colin.
I sat directly behind him and would always get all nervous and stiff. When he’d lean back,
his arms behind his head, I could smell his cologne mixed with the crisp freshness of his shirt
and the detergent used to wash it.
I could smell that same scent right then as I jogged to keep up with Colin’s long and quick
stride. I never ceased to whisper, “Colin, please give me back my notebook.”
We neared our classroom and he chuckled, saying, “You can annoy me all you want for
the whole hour of calculus, but I’m not going to give in, Seven, even if you stab me with
pencils from behind, which I don’t think you can do.”
“What makes you think I can’t?” I challenged.
He stopped at the door all of a sudden and I nearly bumped into his back. I tilted my head
to face him and found myself staring. His body was covering the sunlight that streamed
through the glass windows and it engulfed him like a halo. He looked down at me and those
stupid butterflies started fluttering to life again.
With a smile so radiant, he said, “Because your conscience wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
And just like that, he turned away and walked into the room, his presence activating a
series of friendly greetings and one-armed hugs from the people inside. As soon as he stepped
away, the sunlight spilled over his silhouette and caused me to squint.
I followed him in, quietly edging around his circle of friends and taking the seat behind
him.
The moment I’d placed my things on my desk, somebody called me, “Seven!”
I looked around and saw a girl, with long blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail, waving
over at me. It was Laura, the captain of the cheerleading team, and yes, you’d better believe
it: the most popular girl in school was calling me over.
But that was only because I was with her when she was still just one of the cheerleaders
and she had confessed her insecurities to me, crying. As I’d patted her back soothingly, she
said, “I hate it. Why was I born with this?”
You see, Laura was very beautiful—blessed with blonde hair, green eyes, and a nice
figure—not to mention that she was actually really nice, but there was one hamartia: she had
a flat, crooked nose.
Despite this flaw, she still got to join the cheerleading team, thanks to her amazing
flexibility and outstanding balance. The rest of the cheerleaders were mostly there because
they were pretty and could do some stretches and high jumps.
 She was a year younger than me but had been admitted to school early, which was why we
were in the same batch. She was fourteen when I’d repeatedly told her there was nothing
wrong with her and handed her the wads of tissues for her to sneeze in while her shoulders
shook with sobs and hiccups. And then, when she turned fifteen, she came back to school
from the Christmas break with a straight nose that was slightly upturned at the tip.
Laura told me later that she’d begged her parents for a nose job, which they’d given her
reluctantly as her Christmas present. Everybody was shocked, of course, but she reasoned that
it was simply puberty finally hitting her and working its magic. Nobody questioned her—
perhaps out of pity—but nobody really believed her either.
I stood up from my seat and walked over to her. “Hi there,” I said, smiling.
“How are you?” she asked, gesturing for me to sit beside her. I did as I answered, “Fine, I
guess. What about you?”
She bit her lip and sighed, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah, well, I’m…not so fine.”
I could sense another secret on the verge of being told. I swallowed and asked, “Why?
What’s wrong?”
“Well…you know Beatrice, right?” she asked uncertainly, mentioning her best friend, a
girl I knew from talking to only once. I tried to remember what secret Beatrice had told me
back then, but without the black notebook (the reason for its absence laughed loudly in the
background) my memories were murky.
“Yeah,” I said, urging her to continue.
Laura raised a hand to brush her ponytail, which was draped over her shoulder.
“She’s…she’s been acting really weird lately.”
“What do you mean by ‘weird’?”
“Like, for example, this morning, I told her that I really, really loved this new purse she
got, and I even commented that it matched her personality, but instead of saying thanks or just
smiling she narrowed her eyes at me as if she didn’t like what I said or something,” she said,
demonstrating it by narrowing her own eyes.
And then it clicked into place.
Oh, right! Beatrice was the girl who thought that her best friend actually hated her and was
plotting against her. This was because of the times that Laura had answered sarcastically,
either because she wasn’t in the mood or because she was just making a joke. You could say
that Beatrice was very…sensitive to these things, and after those said times she started
becoming suspicious of things that weren’t actually taking place.
For the sake of confidentiality and their relationship, I couldn’t tell Laura that. I raised my
eyebrows instead and said, “That is weird.”
“I’m starting to think that she doesn’t like me,” Laura said, her insecure side acting up.
Despite being fawned over by almost everybody already, she still had that side of her that
needed a confidence boost.
“I, uh, I think that she just didn’t understand what you meant,” I said carefully, picking out
my words. “What did your tone sound like?”
Laura looked over at me and asked, “Does that even matter?”
“In some cases, it does,” I said and then shrugged. “I mean, she could’ve thought you were
being sarcastic.”
Laura gasped, snapping her fingers as if she’d suddenly realized something and had it just
at the tip of her tongue. “You’re right!” she marveled at me. “Maybe it’s just like that one
time with Brandon! Remember? I told you about it.”
 I knew Brandon was her other best friend and I was pretty sure he’d talked to me before as
well, but I couldn’t remember what it was about. And that “one time” Laura was talking about
was no better.
“Um, are you sure you told me?” I asked uncertainly, glancing up at the ceiling as I
scraped every corner of my brain for the memory.
Laura looked at me as if she thought I was losing my mind. Maybe I was. “Yes, I’m pretty
sure, Seven. You were even so guarded about…” her eyes darted around before she leaned
forward and whispered, “about Brandon’s secret and wouldn’t tell me what it was until I said
that Brandon told me about it already.”
And can you enlighten me as to what that secret was? I wanted to ask her, but instead kept
my mouth shut.
I was able to fumble over something in my foggy head and then asked, “That one time you
were talking about was when…when you were being sarcastic and Brandon didn’t pick up on
your tone, right?”
She nodded eagerly, glad that I remembered. I continued, “It was something related to
Brandon’s secret which is…which is…” I knew it was a mistake to mention it the moment the
words left my lips.
Laura watched me expectantly, waiting for the words she knew should be coming from my
mouth right there and then but were apparently having a delayed arrival.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember,” she said, but even in a quiet voice, you could hear the
incredulity.
I laughed weakly and scratched the back of my head, shrugging. “I guess I’m getting really
forgetful nowadays.”
“Yeah, but his secret isn’t something you could forget about that easily, Seven,” she said.
She lowered her voice even more. “It isn’t easy to forget the fact that he’s…you know, the
other term for happy.”
This was good. Laura was giving me clues. Maybe I could find my way back to the right
path with that.
“He’s…in love?” I asked hesitantly, my gut twisting in nervousness and anticipation.
She shook her head at me, disbelief obvious on her face. “I can’t believe you don’t
remember it, Seven!” she whispered. “He’s gay!”
I wanted to smack myself. Brandon was gay! That was something you shouldn’t be able to
forget about—at all.
“Oh, right,” I said, grinning sheepishly at Laura. “I had a feeling it was that, but you
know…I get it all mixed up.”
“I suppose,” she replied, looking at me warily. A few seconds of awkwardness stretched
between us before I was literally saved by the bell. Mr. White walked into the room and I
quickly got up and headed to my seat.
Colin’s group had scattered to their own seats, and once I was seated behind him, I leaned
forward so that my words could reach only his ears, “This is your fault.”
He slouched in his seat so that he could speak to me without having to turn around. He
chuckled and murmured, “What is?”
“What I just went through,” I said through gritted teeth. I glared at the back of his red hair,
hating the fact that I was still fascinated by the way it shone with gold flecks against the
sunlight. “I need my notebook, Colin. Give it back.”
Mr. White was saying something about the lesson but his voice was only the background
music in this sitcom. Colin shook his head and I could hear the smile in his voice as he said,
“The fun has only just begun, Seven.” He raised a hand and my eyes cut a glance at it,
widening the moment I spotted the black notebook held lightly between his fingers.
I lashed out instinctively, seeing my chance. The tips of my fingers were able to brush the
leather cover but he pulled away in the next second, slipping it under his textbook. My sudden
movement caused my chair and my table to screech against the floor, and Mr. White picked
that exact moment to notice it.
He turned to look at me. “Seven Warrilow, did you hear a thing I just said?”
I slowly backed away from Colin, my eyes focused on the teacher. “Y-Yes, sir,” I
stammered.
He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously and asked, “What did I just say, then?”
“You asked me if I’d heard a thing you just said.”
“Very funny,” he deadpanned, turning back to the blackboard and resuming his writing
there, “but flirt again with Colin here and we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
Blushing, I blurted, “But, sir, I wasn’t—”
“Seven, this is your last warning.”
“Sorry,” I said bashfully. In front of me, Colin snickered. I bared my teeth, the temptation
of biting his head off too great. I’d never before in my life felt so violent.
The only time that I’d attempted to use violence was in kindergarten when a girl I didn’t
like came over to my castle of blocks and kicked it down. And then she would say that she
didn’t mean it and tell me to clean it up. I’d been very close to throwing one of the blocks at
her stupidly big head.
I crossed my arms and sat back glumly in my seat, once again staring at the clock and
waiting for its hands to move.
A few minutes in through Mr. White’s lecture, Colin suddenly raised a hand—as if to
scratch his back or something—and dropped a piece of folded paper on my desk.
I raised an eyebrow at the back of his head but he didn’t say anything. I reached for the
note and opened it hesitantly. Inside there was a surprisingly nice drawing of the black
notebook, its accurately straight lines and shading so vivid that it almost seemed to be right
there in front of me. I never knew that he could draw so well.
Below the drawing, Colin had written: So close and yet so far.
My fingers curled around the paper, crumpling it into a ball.

***

My plan, although it was supposed to be the easiest and simplest of all, was becoming harder
than I ever imagined it would be.
The day had been spent more in routines rather than not. I would corner Colin, he would
edge past me with a witty remark, and I would be left waiting for the next class to end to
corner him again, beg, and have him slip through my fingers like sand.
By the time it was my last period of the day, nothing had changed.
Not only that, but I had to ignore the odd looks I was getting and the snickers I could hear
behind my back. It was beyond embarrassing, and I was hoping nobody had noticed it, but
unfortunately for me, a few already did.
“What’s going on between you and Colin Stillman?” asked Stefanie, my seatmate in
English Lit, while the teacher was reading out a chapter of The Great Gatsby to a bunch of
students who weren’t paying him a shred of attention. I’d already read it before anyway so I
didn’t bother listening.
 As I watched the teacher talk, not really hearing what he was saying, I considered telling a
teacher or my parents that Colin had stolen something from me—although that sounded very
much like third grade—but then I thought about it again. He could simply lie and pretend that
I was some kind of lunatic who was just desperate for his attention or something. It wasn’t
that unlikely.
“Yeah,” my other seatmate, Nina, chimed in eagerly, “I always see you two together, like
this morning and after classes, talking heatedly and laughing.”
Laughing? I thought with a cocked eyebrow. Was that how I looked like? I was supposed
to be scowling. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said airily with a smile. “We were just…as you saw,
talking.”
Stefanie suddenly gasped and whirled around to gape at me, her hand covering her mouth
in surprise, “Wait, could it be—are you two going out?”
I almost choked. And of course, a blush just had to appear on my cheeks. “N-No! We’re
definitely not going out,” I said. “I told you, we were just talking.”
Nina leant forward curiously and asked, “About what?”
I narrowed my eyes just a little bit at her. I didn’t need the black notebook to remember
that she also liked Colin.
I remembered the time when she’d whispered it excitedly to me and I felt torn apart
between telling her to go for it and shooing her away from Colin with my wrath. As if I even
had the right; I wasn’t his girlfriend.
In the end, I told her honestly that I didn’t know who Colin liked and that she should be
careful because he was unpredictable.
Right then, I couldn’t help but smile slyly and shrug, “Oh, you know, stuff.”
“Come on, Seven!” she begged, pulling at my forearm. “Tell me!”
I put a finger to my lips and winked. “Sorry, it’s a secret.”
Stefanie laughed as Nina pouted disappointedly, but she didn’t take it to heart.
The teacher finished the chapter and then started distributing pieces of paper. He asked us
to answer the questions there about the chapter we’d just read—well, that he’d read—using
our own copies of the book.
I sighed as I retrieved the novel and started flipping through pages in search of answers. I
was so tired—and not only because of the many secrets I had to remember until I got my
black notebook back, but also because of chasing Colin around wherever he went.
I’d even gotten to the point where I’d gone on a full-on marathon by chasing him down the
hall.
“Let’s play a game of tag. If you can catch me, I’ll give it back to you. Ready? Go!” After
he said the words, he immediately took off. He laughed as he ran, looking back at me over his
shoulder at times. I had weaved through bodies as fast as I could but I still couldn’t keep up.
By the time the people had dispersed and he was cornered, I panted, saying, “I’ve…got
you…now. Give it, Colin.”
“You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Seven,” he said, grinning wickedly. “I said you
have to catch me, not corner me.”
I growled—I didn’t even know I could do that—and reached out to “catch” him, but he
was always one step ahead of me. He swiftly slipped into a room and before I could follow
him in, thankfully, I saw the blue sign hanging on the door, clearing stating: MALE.
I screamed in anger and stomped like an angry little kid who hadn’t been given the toy she
wanted. I crossed my arms and paced restlessly outside the boys’ bathroom.
He could hide in there all he wanted; I wasn’t going to give up that easily.
 Boys had filed out of the bathroom, giving me weird looks, but I turned away from them,
glaring at a fire hydrant behind the breakable glass instead.
Finally, after a while, Colin came out and I immediately stood in front of him, spreading
my arms out and saying, “Stop right there.”
He looked down at me with a smug smile and cooed, “Yes?”
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice turning to a whine. “If you want money, I can give
you some. Just give me back my notebook.”
“Sorry, Seven, but I don’t take bribes,” he said as he started to step away from me. I
grabbed his hands and did my best impression of adorable and utterly irresistible puppy-dog
eyes. “Please?” I asked, looking up at him from under my lashes, “Pretty please with cherries
on top?”
Colin stared at me for a moment but I couldn’t find any emotion or hint that he was giving
in at all in those emerald eyes. And then those eyes drifted down to his hands, which were
being gripped by my smaller feminine ones.
A smile slowly spread across his face as he said, “You know, Seven, I haven’t wash my
hands yet.”
I blinked, confused. What did he mean? I looked down at his hands. They looked clean
enough.
Behind him, the door to the boys’ bathroom swung open and a guy squeezed out, shaking
his wet hands to dry them off. My eyes went wide. Colin was in the boys’ bathroom for a
considerably long time. He probably went to—
I released his hands quickly as if they’d burnt me and held out my own in disgust. Before I
could say anything else, Colin burst out laughing. He bent over, clutching his stomach, and
said in between barks of laughter, “You—I can’t believe you actually bought that! Oh, man!
Of course I washed my hands!”
I blushed from embarrassment at how easily I’d been fooled and blushed even more each
time his laugh became louder. “Shut up. It’s not funny!” I said weakly.
Colin’s laughter died down to a few chuckles and he wiped his eye with a finger. “You just
don’t find it funny,” he said matter-of-factly with a smirk, “because you’re the butt of the
joke.”
A scowl I didn’t know I could muster started to appear on my face as I glared at Colin.
“Just give it back already!” I said, fisting my hands at my sides. “Or—or else—”
“Or else what?” he asked, crossing his arms. From the look in his eyes, you could tell that
he knew I had nothing to bait him. I hated it. “What can you do, Seven?”
Nothing, I thought, but immediately pushed it away. Gritting my teeth, I murmured, “You
just wait and see, Colin.” And then I turned on my heel and walked away.
“Okay, I’ll wait,” he called after me, “but I don’t think I’ll be seeing anything.”
Jerk, I thought as I sat in English Lit, fuming as I prepared how to launch the other plans I
had in mind. I may have failed that day, but that was why there was a tomorrow. And I wasn’t
going to stop trying until I had the notebook safely in my hands.
 Entry 4: Plan B - Ninja Style

Date: March 12, 2013

“Your mother tells me that you’ve been very busy lately,” my dad said the next morning over
breakfast. It was one of those rare mornings when he didn’t have to rush to the office and I
could still catch up with him to chat.
My mom, as always, had prepared a delicious meal for our breakfast that morning: waffles
and scrambled eggs with bacon strips at the side. I scarfed the eggs and drowned my waffles
in syrup, leaving the bacon strips for the last. I looked up at my dad after shoving a spoonful
of egg in my mouth.
My dad was also dark haired like my mom and me, but his was a shade closer to brown.
He had hazel eyes; when I was younger and he’d let me sit on his lap, I loved staring into
them and looking out for the green and gold flecks. When I was a little older, my mom told
me that when they were still dating she loved doing the same thing.
“They’re just so fascinating,” she’d said dreamily while I rolled my eyes and simply
smiled.
Now I asked, “What do you mean?”
My dad sliced his waffle with a silver knife. The sun coming through the open windows
made the steel glint and I blinked as he said, “Well, she said that when you came home last
Friday, you trudged up to your room and only left it for meals. I mean, that isn’t exactly
unusual since you’re always reading, but yesterday she said that she found you asleep on your
desk. What were you doing?”
I swallowed down the food in my mouth before saying, “It’s nothing, Dad.” I smiled up at
him, trying to reassure him that, no, I wasn’t planning the possible destruction of another
human being by the name of Colin Stillman because he had something that was very
important to me.
He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word I said. Despite being the parent who
was rarely at home, my dad still knew me so well. “You’ll talk to us if there’s a problem,
right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course,” I said, nodding, and then quickly looked down at my plate, pretending that I
was engaged in slicing my own waffle, “You don’t need to worry, Dad.”
“Alright,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “I won’t then.” He reached for his
napkin and wiped his mouth with it. He pushed his chair out and took his plate, bringing it to
the sink along with the still steaming pan and other used plates. He placed a gentle hand on
the small of Mom’s back and kissed her. “I’ll go now, honey. Goodbye.”
“Bye. Take care,” she said, smiling at him.
As my dad slipped on his coat, he walked back to me and kissed the crown of my head.
“See you later, kiddo.”
“Bye, Dad,” I said, biting the first of my bacon strips. I watched him grab his briefcase and
step out of the front door, his right hand raised in a wave. After a while, I heard the engine of
a car start and then wheels were crunching gravel. The sounds grew soft until there was no
more.
“You should get going too, Seven,” my mom said as she came back to the dining table
with her second mug of coffee. She stirred the contents with a spoon as I quickly shoved the
rest of the bacon strips into my mouth and licked my lips.
“Okay,” I mumbled with a full mouth before gulping down my juice. I slipped my
backpack on and kissed her on the cheek. “Bye, Mom,” I said.
“Bye, baby,” she replied, taking a sip from her coffee. I made my way out of the house and
into the cold outside. I shakily pulled my sweater sleeves over my hands as I walked around
the little crack in the cement in front of our house. School was usually just a five to ten
minute walk and I didn’t want to use my money taking the bus, unless absolutely necessary.
Our house was situated in a tiny neighborhood where all the houses looked the same and
you could only tell the difference by the number on the brass plate adhered on the identical
mailboxes outside the white picket fence. We were number 8 out of the ten houses and just
thirty or so paces away, in house number 3, was my uncle from my dad’s side and his big
family of five children; three boys: Nate, Nick and Neil; and two girls: April and May.
They were the closest relatives I had as my dad’s other brother had no children and was an
archaeologist in Africa and my mom’s older sister had died at a young age because of cancer.
Since I was an only child, I considered my cousins like my siblings.
As I passed by their house, I could hear roaring laughter, screams of names I knew, and the
sounds of running feet. My relatives were boisterous and sometimes their neighbor, Mr.
Swan, would complain about it, but they were always an admittedly great company to be
with. You could never be with them and not laugh.
I hurried past until I was out of the neighborhood and turning around the corner. After
three more blocks, I was already at the front gates of my school. People were already there,
talking while scattered on the grass under the shade of a tree or on the front steps of the main
building.
I walked down the strip of road that led to the entrance, alone, and looked around. Several
people waved and greeted me a good morning, others came over to whisper another secret
that I most probably wouldn’t remember afterward.
Just as a boy named Jeremy left my side after telling me about something he’d overheard
at a party, I turned and immediately spotted Colin. It was as if my eyes were already used to
looking for him in a crowded room from glancing secretly in the halls and classrooms.
He was, as per usual, surrounded by tons of people. He was telling a story to them
animatedly, his hands waving around in exaggerated gestures. As they laughed at something
he said, he looked up and his eyes met mine.
I kept my face expressionless and perfectly relaxed as he smiled at me. He raised his
hands, as if welcoming me, and mouthed, Come and get me.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t even glare—I simply maintained the same aloof look before
swiftly looking away as I entered the double doors of the school. Leave him to guess what I
was up to.
I went over to my locker and took the books I needed before quickly heading to my first
class. I wasn’t going to follow him around that morning like some lost puppy.
My schedule for that day allowed me to see him three times; we had calculus for two
periods straight and AP Psychology in the afternoon.
This time, I was going to be patient. As the classes I had without him began, I paid
attention to the teacher, took notes, answered questions, and listened to secrets, trying to show
to the world that I was calm, cool, collected. When our first calculus class came around, I was
ready.
I walked in to the room and surprisingly Colin was sitting on his seat, alone.
When I came in, he looked up and flashed me a smile. “I can’t say I’m not surprised that
you didn’t attack me first thing this morning,” he said, craning his neck at me as I continued
walking and took my seat behind him. He twisted around and propped his chin on his hand.
“So what are you planning today, Seven?”
“What makes you think I have any plans?” I asked, smiling innocently.
“Clever,” he commented and then said, “but you’re still not going to get the notebook
back.”
“Don’t be so sure, Colin,” I said, bringing out a novel I was in the middle of reading and
opening it. He watched me with confused and curious eyes before chuckling and turning
away, facing back to the front.
Almost immediately my eyes looked up at the back of his head, making sure he wouldn’t
be able to see any movements I made.
I glanced down at his backpack, which he’d mistakenly and fortunately hung on his chair
at an angle that was perfectly within my reach.
Mr. White soon entered the room with an announcement of an exercise and made us bring
out a piece of paper and answer the set of problems he’d prepared.
I was thankful for the fact that I liked math and had studied last night for what I hadn’t
been listening to yesterday because, in a matter of twenty-four minutes, I was done with all
the problems. Everyone else was hunched over their papers, scratching their heads in
frustration and occasionally looking for some inspiration from their neighbors’ answers.
Colin was nervously tapping his pen against his desk. It seemed he had no idea what to do
with the numbers and symbols staring back at him either.
I looked up at Mr. White to see him reading a newspaper, his eyes occasionally darting
around to check for any cheaters. When he looked back down, I quickly reached for Colin’s
backpack, my fingers seizing the zipper and carefully pulling it open.
Suddenly Colin leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat. I retracted my hand
immediately, just as the creaking of Colin’s chair alerted Mr. White to look up. I bowed my
head, pretending to be busy in solving math problems, and after a few seconds glanced back
up again. Mr. White had returned to his newspaper.
The bag was left hanging open and I slowly slipped my hand inside, fumbling around the
objects I was touching. I felt something hard, which I presumed was a book or notebook, but
it was too big to be the one I was looking for. I moved my hand to the right and grazed
something slippery, like plastic. It was probably a snack.
Where was it? I wondered irritably, my eyes watching out for both Colin’s and Mr.
White’s movements. I reached down deeper, the bag swallowing my arm almost up to the
elbow, and felt something rough, like cloth, with several other things in it—a pencil case?
Besides his phone, keys, and a few empty wrappers, I didn’t find anything else. Could it be
that he didn’t have the notebook in his bag?
I swept a glance over his clothes, a white V-neck and dark blue sweatshirt under a black
jacket matched with dark jeans. I like what he’s wearing, I thought dreamily, just before I
spotted the top of a black notebook peeking out his jacket pocket.
I pulled my chair closer to my desk, trying to do it as quietly as I could. Mr. White was
still reading his article. I leaned over my desk. Mr. White chuckled over a funny picture.
 I extended my arm—my fingers were just inches away—when Colin suddenly turned
around.
I immediately dropped back to my seat, unable to control its screeching against the floor.
Mr. White’s head snapped up at me just as I bit my pen and furrowed my eyebrows, looking
frustrated at my paper that was already full of answers.
His eyes lingered on me as Colin grabbed his bag and retrieved a protractor, stuffing the
black notebook inside in the process. That would’ve been fine with me, if he hadn’t hung the
bag on the seat in front of him. Mr. White looked back down at his newspaper and flipped a
page.
I mentally groaned. The next hour of calculus was pretty much useless by then. I would
have to wait until psychology.

***

By that afternoon, I was disappointed to admit that I’d failed in stealing back my notebook.
The bell rang, ending psychology and my chances of getting it back. I watched with
longing as Colin swung his backpack over his shoulder and got up from his seat.
His friend was saying excitedly, “Come on, man! I heard that coach is going to let us play
basketball today. If we get to the gym a little earlier, we can change and shoot some hoops
before the others arrive.”
“I’m so going to wipe your butt across the gym floor for all the girls to see,” Colin said
arrogantly, wagging his eyebrows.
“No way!” his friend replied, indignant. “Race you there?” And then, like little boys, they
took off running.
So Colin’s next class was P.E. Surely, if they were going to play a game they’d leave their
bags in the locker rooms, along with their clothes. My next class was bio, and since I knew
we weren’t going to have any tests or new lessons, just further reviewing for those who were
still unprepared for the test that upcoming Friday, I decided on resuming plan B, but with
different tactics.
I got up from my seat and was met at the door by a girl named Amy. “Hi, Seven,” she said
to me and I smiled at her.
“Okay, I know this may be a little weird for you since we’re not that close—it is for me—
but I’ve heard many people say that you’re a great confidant,” she said in one breath and I
liked that she was frank with me, instead of pretending to be best of friends like other people
did.
“Oh, no, it’s alright,” I said, beaming at her. “So what’s up?”
“Well, the thing is…my friends think that I don’t like anybody,” she blurted, avoiding my
eyes and fiddling with her fingernail.
“But you do,” I stated for her and she nodded shyly. She looked wary of telling me
anything. “If you don’t want to tell me who it is either it’s okay,” I said quickly.
Amy smiled sheepishly and tucked her hair behind her ear. “To tell you the truth,” she said
in a low voice as we walked down the hall, “I think I can trust you more than I can trust my
friends. They’re always joking around about who they like and although I know that they’re
just joking around, it still could cause a fuss, which I don’t want.”
“I see your point,” I said, nodding in understanding. “And I’m glad to hear that you trust
me.”
She grinned and then said, “Okay, so we have geometry together, right? I’m seated
diagonally from you, I think.”
 “Right,” I said, picturing my usual view from my seat in the classroom. Amy was seated a
row before mine to my left.
“Well…can you remember the guy who’s seated beside me, on my right side?”
I thought back to the seating plan and the face of a boy named Timothy appeared in my
head. “Oh, you mean Timothy?” I whispered, bending down a little since she was shorter.
“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. I could see the faint blush across her cheeks
just at the mention of him. Man, this girl was in love. But I definitely didn’t expect it to be
Timothy. He was an alright kind of guy, tall and slender, in the student council, but not much
of a looker. I supposed the feelings had developed over time.
“Have you talked to him?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’ve chatted a few times in class and greeted each other in the halls or the
cafeteria,” she said reminiscently, “but nothing deeply personal or anything like that. I’m
thinking of asking for his number some time.”
I thought over what advice I could offer to her and chose to say, “Well, I haven’t heard
anything about him besides what most people know, but I suggest that you keep it subtle. I
mean, you never know what he’d think if you ask for his number all of a sudden.”
“But I don’t think he’ll be asking for my number any time soon,” she said, the
disappointment in her voice showing.
“Okay,” I said slowly, “if that’s your point, well, at least find an opportunity where you
happen to talk about cell phones or text messages, or where you have to ask for it. Make it
seem like you’re doing it because you’re friends, and not because you want to get to know
him that way.”
“Alright,” she said, thinking it over, “I’ll see what I can do. Thanks, Seven.” She grinned
at me. “I don’t think I need to tell you to keep it a secret, right?”
“My lips are sealed,” I said, winking at her. We separated, heading to our respective
classes. Once I was in bio I saw the teacher already seated inside, talking to someone in the
front row. I walked over to my seat and casually looked out the window. The field was empty,
but Colin’s class was probably in the gymnasium.
I squinted at the gym’s entrance, which seemed tiny from the distance, and I could make
out people entering. I would have to wait until everyone was done changing and the locker
rooms were empty.
Bio started in a few minutes and, as the teacher repeatedly explained a term that the others
couldn’t understand, I wrapped my arms around my stomach, beginning my acting. I
scrunched up my face, trying to show to the people around me that I was in pain. I closed my
eyes and took deep breaths. I glanced outside and saw that nobody was walking into the
gymnasium anymore.
I tentatively and shakily raised a hand. The teacher looked over at me and asked, “Yes,
Seven? Do you have a question?”
I stood up from my seat and walked over to her. I asked quietly, “Can I go to the nurse’s
office, Miss? My stomach doesn’t feel so good.”
“Oh, sure, Seven,” she immediately said, her hands gently touching my shoulders. She
gestured the door to me and I headed out of it, hunching over just a little bit more. When the
door had closed behind me, and I was all alone in the hallway, I ran.
I went first to the nurse’s office and got the medicine for my “stomach ache” and an
admission slip, which I needed as proof that I’d been to the nurse’s office and wasn’t simply
skipping classes.
 The nurse had even given me a suspicious look, already used to students using her clinic as
an excuse for many other reasons. She watched me as I slipped the pill under my tongue and
drank water from the dispenser.
“Thank you, nurse,” I murmured weakly, clutching my stomach as I left the room.
Outside, I spat the pill into the nearest trashcan, sprinted to the locker rooms, and ducked
quickly into the boys’, avoiding the janitor who was mopping the floor. The moment I closed
the door, I wrinkled my nose and immediately covered it with my hand. The stench of sweat
was so strong that I thought I was going to faint. Clothes were scattered on the floor and some
bags were carelessly tossed to the side but I noticed that none of them were Colin’s.
It was worse than the girls’ locker room.
I looked around, checking that nobody else was in there, before searching for locker
number 13. Through means that I refused to call stalking, I’d found out Colin’s favorite
number. And it was absolutely coincidental that I had chosen locker number 13 as well.
Anyway, since there were no locks, it was easy for me to open his locker and look inside.
On the door, he’d taped a picture of himself and his friends with sweat dripping off the tips of
his red hair and a grin splitting his face. He’d hung his clothes neatly with a hanger and left
his bag at the bottom of his locker.
Resisting the urge to jump up and down in happiness at my success, I bent down and
starting rummaging through his bag. Apparently the hard thing I’d felt earlier was a
sketchpad, not a book or notebook.
I knew it was a mistake for me to bring out his sketchpad and look inside, but curiosity
won me over.
The only other time that I’d seen his drawing was when he drew the notebook to
antagonize me, but the ones in his sketchpad made my jaw drop in awe. He had drawn
sceneries of people talking and laughing without their knowledge, of buildings so tall they
seemed to pierce the sky, of sunsets reflected on a calm lake and more. There were so many
that I didn’t have to time to sit down and truly admire them.
The darkened lines and gentle curves that he’d created with only a pencil were so riveting,
so amazing, that it took me a moment before I heard the sound of the bell ringing, the door to
locker room opening and dozens of boys laughing and walking in. They weren’t supposed to
be back yet!
I quickly closed the sketchpad and stuffed it back into his bag, forgetting the black
notebook. I looked around the locker room, trying to find a place to hide in, and seeing that
there was none, I slipped into Colin’s locker and silently shut the door.
Through the holes of the locker, I peeked out and saw boys flooding in, their white shirts
sticking to their bodies with sweat and their jogging pants stained with dirty footprints and
dust.
My eyes focused on one of the boys just as he pulled his shirt off and revealed a heavily
muscled body. I blinked. And then he started removing his pants too. He was left in his
boxers but someone just had to jump behind him and pulled them down.
I tore my gaze away from the sight just as the sounds of laughter followed and echoed
inside the little metal box I was in. Panic fluttered in my heart. How was I going to get out of
there?
“Did you see how blood was gushing out of O’Donnell’s nose like a waterfall?” someone
asked.
“Yeah, but what happened to him? I didn’t get to see.”
“The ball slipped through his hands and slammed into his face—bam!” One of the boys
was kind enough to re-enact the scene. “Must’ve hurt like crazy.”
 “Of course it did, idiot. He was so dizzy he could barely stand. That’s why coach cut the
class short.”
A little closer to Colin’s locker, I heard another say, “I’m so glad coach let us watch the
girls play basketball too. So many bodies squeezing in together makes you want to be in the
middle of it all, you know?”
“Gross,” I whispered in disgust as several other boys laughed and howled their
agreements.
And then I heard another voice say, “So Colin, I’ve heard that there’s another girl chasing
you around. Wasn’t her name Seven?”
I froze in my place and listened attentively to the person’s next words, but it was Colin
who spoke next and I recognized his voice immediately. He laughed and asked, “Yeah, what
about her?”
They were talking about me. I needed to hear this. I pressed my ear close to the holes.
“It seems kind of cute, you know—how she goes after you and begs.”
“Wait, she’s begging you?” someone else chimed in. “What’s she begging you for?”
“Dang, Stillman, I didn’t know you were that kind of guy,” another boy said and they all
laughed. I blushed, feeling so humiliated. I peeked through the holes and could see Colin
standing just outside his locker. If he opened it and all the boys saw me, I was surely going to
melt to the floor and die from embarrassment.
“You’re just jealous, Smith,” Colin countered with a smile. “But Seven’s not that kind of
girl. She has her reasons for doing what she does.”
Was he actually defending me against his friends? I could feel warmth wrapping me up in
a cocoon. I was…touched.
The laughter faded away, and before I could take another breath, the door to the locker was
opened and Colin stood in front of me, gloriously half-naked. I gave him an appreciative
once-over.
He was slim, but not thin with twig-like arms and skinny knees; he had lean muscles that
weren’t entirely obvious under clothes, which was why I was pleasantly surprised right then.
But even with the pathetic lighting of the locker room, I could see the way his skin glistened
wonderfully with sweat, his strong chest that rose and fell with every breath, the line of his
hard stomach that just lacked abs, and the cut of his hip bones above the waistline of his
jogging pants.
The sight of him sent shivers through my body and it definitely wasn’t from the cold. He
must’ve been working out.
He opened his mouth, probably to utter a curse in surprise, but he stopped himself in time.
He closed the locker door just a little bit so that there was only a small space left, which he
easily covered with his body. He looked around him and over his shoulder, checking if
anyone else had noticed that there was a girl in his locker.
Most had already gone to the showers, while some were still talking while taking off their
socks, but no one paid us any attention. He turned back to me and whispered, “What on earth
are you doing here, Seven?”
“Oh, nothing much,” I squeaked weakly, a little dazed at seeing him shirtless, “just
admiring the structure of lockers. The creator of them must’ve been a genius, huh?”
“You’re crazy, you know that?” he said with a disbelieving smile. He leaned forward and I
found myself staring at his neck, which oddly fascinated me with the way it gracefully curved
to his broad shoulders and how his Adam’s apple bobbed up and his collarbones stood out.
 He must’ve noticed my shameless staring because he smirked at me and said, “Loving the
view? Please, no cameras.”
I glared at him as a blush crawled up my neck and reddened my face. I was glad for the
shadow his body provided. I probably looked like a bright red tomato.
“Came for the little notebook again, huh?” he asked and I remembered the reason why I
was there in the first place. “It’s mine anyway,” I said, averting his intense gaze.
“Yeah, well, it’s getting me tangled up in your complications as well,” he said, raising an
eyebrow.
“Then give it back and you’ll be free of it and me!” I said in half a whisper, half a yell.
Colin grinned at me and said, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
I bit my lip to prevent myself from screaming in frustration. Before I could say anything
else, he craned his neck and looked around again. Suddenly, he swung the locker door wide
open and said, “Okay, the coast is clear.”
I tentatively stepped out, peering at the other lockers and finding no one.
“Come on,” Colin said, taking my wrist and dragging me out of his locker. He opened the
door to the locker room and checked if the hall was empty before gently pushing me out.
When I turned back to look at him, he made a gun with his hand and shot me in the forehead.
“Now go.”
“Thanks, by the way,” I said in a small voice and he raised his eyebrows incredulously.
“You claim that I stole your notebook, and even when you pleaded with me again and
again, I refused to return it to you, and now you’re thanking me?” he asked. “I didn’t know
that was what you had to do to make someone feel thankful.”
I frowned at him and said, “I’m not thanking you for that. Even if you were a jerk for not
giving me back what’s mine, still, you”—I swallowed and bowed my head—“you didn’t
embarrass me in front of all those boys and even looked out for me. So, yeah…”
His sarcastic expression softened. He smiled and I liked to think that it was genuine, not
because he was making a joke or because he was mocking me, but because he couldn’t help
it. Colin reached out and ruffled my hair. “You’re welcome, kid.”
“Don’t call me kid,” I said, raising my hands to swat away his. “I’m just a year younger
than you.”
“Fine,” he said. “You’re welcome, Seven.” With that, he grinned at me and slammed the
door in my face. I shook my head at him, although he couldn’t see me from the other side,
and started making my way to my next class.
The image of Colin, half-naked, came unbidden to my mind, but it definitely wasn’t
unwelcome. Man, he was hot. I mean, I already knew he was handsome and tall with a nice
build, but it was totally different seeing him like that.
Blushing, I tried to dispel such thoughts but they wouldn’t go. Or maybe I just wasn’t all
that willing to shoo them away.
As I walked, I raised a hand to fix my messed-up hair—credit to Colin Stillman—and
caught myself smiling for no reason.
“Seven,” I whispered my name, remembering the way his voice sounded when he said it.
I liked it. I really really liked it.
 Entry 5: Plan C – Ninja Style Part Two & Plan D – Threat

Date: March 13, 2013

I went over yesterday’s attempts of getting back the black notebook and decided to try again.
If it weren’t for my mistake of looking into Colin’s sketchpad, I could be holding it in my
hands as we speak. I was going to have to make sure not to make any more mistakes like that
again.
I’d chosen my wardrobe conscientiously.
I usually wore plain T-shirts under a coat or thick comfy sweaters to school, but that day I
brought a black sweatshirt along with me. First thing that morning, when I saw Colin, he
taunted me by curling his hand, beckoning me. I simply stuck my tongue out at him and
walked away.
After my first class, I immediately headed into the girls’ bathroom and replaced my
cardigan with the black sweatshirt. I pulled my hair back in a tight ponytail so I wouldn’t be
easily recognized. I zipped the sweatshirt up to my neck and covered my head with the hood.
When I came in as Seven Warrilow, I was wearing a hot pink graphic tee under a gray
cardigan. When I came out with a black sweatshirt, dark jeans and black Converse, I had a
new identity.
And it worked. In the halls, nobody approached me or called after me with more secrets.
For the first time in a long while, I was invisible to the people around me. They bumped into
me, scowled at me for not saying “excuse me” or even “sorry” and turned away without
another thought about me.
I searched the halls for Colin and found him alone at his locker. He was exchanging some
of the books in his arms and I quickly walked closer to him. He didn’t notice me. I stopped in
front of him and stooped down to my knee, my fingers untying and retying the laces of my
black Converse.
I could feel his eyes on me for a few seconds, probably trying to see who I was, but since
he didn’t know it was me, he returned to his locker and typed on his phone for a while.
I glanced up furtively and saw the black notebook sticking out of the front pocket of his
backpack.
After finishing the knot of my laces, I stood up and passed by him, my hands
surreptitiously reaching out for the black notebook like the ninja that I was—and I almost had
it—but Colin turned around and bumped into me.
“Oh, sorry,” he murmured, peering at my face, but I looked away and nodded mutely. I
tried to walk away calmly and naturally and not make it obvious that I wasn’t just another
student that he’d bumped into, but Seven Warrilow, who desperately wanted her notebook
back.
I walked to the next girls’ bathroom, making sure I kept my distance from him, and
changed back to my original outfit. I walked out and headed to my next class, which was
calculus.
 Unfortunately, I had only that one period of calculus with him that day and he had hung his
bag on the seat in front of him again, completely out of my reach.
“So, are you going to do something different today, Seven?” he asked me as he passed the
test papers to me.
I took them from his hands, our fingertips brushing, and got one for myself. I gave the rest
to the person behind me and replied, “Mr. Stillman, please turn around or I will be forced to
tell the teacher that you are going to steal answers from me, just as you have stolen a certain
black notebook.”
He snorted with a smile and turned around. I was so frustrated with my epic fail of a plan
that day that I almost couldn’t solve some of the problems in the test, but it all worked out in
the end.
Once the bell rang, I didn’t go to change into the black sweatshirt again. I knew I couldn’t
go to Colin again, pretend to be lacing my shoes, and try to take back the black notebook—
that would be too obvious, and I wasn’t that stupid.
So I tried again during lunch.
Usually, I would sit with whoever invited me during the period before lunch. That day it
was Karen, Jeremiah, and Lola, who had told me several times before that their friendship
went all the way back to when they were still in their diapers.
They were a fun trio who formed a band way back in middle school and were currently
doing gigs at clubs and parties. I’d listened to a couple of their songs and they were
admittedly really good.
“I’ll meet you guys there,” I told them after class, “I have something to do first.”
“Alright,” Karen said, looping an arm through Lola’s and Jeremiah’s, “see you there,
Seven!”
I made sure they were out of sight before I ducked into the girls’ bathroom and shrugged
on the black sweatshirt. I stepped out of the stall and, seeing as there was nobody else around,
I briefly checked my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes looked tired, with dark half-circles under my eyes. My cheeks were lacking color
and my hair was slightly wavy at the ends from how tight my ponytail was earlier. I tied it up
the same way right then and tucked it under the hood. Just as I exited the bathroom a girl was
walking past and I bumped right into her.
“Sorry,” I muttered quietly and she looked up at me, tears in her eyes. I recognized her as
Samantha, a senior from my AP Philosophy class.
She’d talked to me several times before about her boyfriend cheating on her and how she
was never going to be able to move on and I would remind her that she could if she really
wanted to. It seemed she still didn’t want to.
“Are you okay?” I blurted before I could remind myself that I wasn’t supposed to be Seven
Warrilow, the secret keeper and adviser extraordinaire.
Samantha was pretty short, so she had to tilt her head a bit to look at me. I bowed my head,
the hood shadowing my face so she wouldn’t realize that it was actually me. With her lips
parted, she nodded.
Seeing no point of staying any longer, I quickly turned away and started making my way
to the cafeteria.
The place was nothing special—picnic tables with gum stuck underneath and benches for
seats, stained trays with either sauce or something unmentionable on it, and moderately clean
floors. But the one thing that would always come to mind when I thought of the cafeteria was
the noise: the sounds of tons of people talking, laughing, whispering, whining, chewing,
coughing, sneezing, clapping, and shouting all at once, accompanied by the clinking of forks
and spoons against plates.
I quickly scanned over the tables to see if Colin was seated already and found him in the
line. I dashed right behind him, seizing the opportunity, and tried to locate the notebook in his
bag. He was busily talking to somebody I didn’t know and didn’t notice me unzipping the
front pocket of his bag. Empty.
He stepped back as he gestured at something I couldn’t see or didn’t care to see and I
immediately shoved my hands into my pockets, looking away.
He took a tray from the pile and I did the same, quietly stepping forward whenever he did.
This is a new way of stalking, a part of me commented and I quickly told it to shut up.
I was watching him surreptitiously, trying to find an opportunity to grab the other zippers
of his bag, when he offered the tray for the lunch lady to put a bowl of soup on and I glanced
at his hand.
How come I’d never noticed his hand? It was large, bigger than mine obviously, and had
long, slender fingers with cleanly cut fingernails. His knuckles stood out as he gripped the
tray and I noticed some of the veins at the back of his hand. His wrist was beautifully
crafted—if a wrist could ever be called beautiful—and was adorned with a black watch. I had
no idea how, but somehow…it looked good on him.
I shook my head and focused instead on the other front pocket. I shortened our distance
until I was close enough to reach up and touch his hair. I wondered if it was as soft as it
looked—
Ugh. I really needed to take lessons on focus and concentration.
I offered the lunch lady my tray, and she gave me a plate of dry-looking spaghetti and the
same soup as Colin. I asked for a bottle of cold water, which she handed to me. While Colin
handed the lunch lady his money, I opened the other front pocket and successfully found the
black notebook.
However, as I was reaching in and taking the notebook into my hand, the feel of its rough
leather brushing my skin, Colin took his tray and started moving away. My hand was caught
in the pocket and I was unwillingly pulled along.
I stumbled forward and my sneaker slid against the floor but abruptly stopped when it got
caught on something sticky—probably a spilled drink that had dried up—and I went down to
the ground. Oh, and let’s not forget my other hand, which was still holding my lunch tray,
which in turn got dragged along as well.
Needless to say, it was messy.
I fell down face-first into—I almost wished it was the floor—my plate of spaghetti, my
hand no longer in Colin’s bag and no longer holding the black notebook. Unfortunately, he
was alerted to the fact that I’d fallen in the most embarrassing fashion ever known to human
beings. And not only him, but also the entire cafeteria witnessed my little accident due to the
sudden clattering of my tray and string of curses that left my mouth as I fell.
Colin looked back, not noticing that almost all of his bag pockets were open, and raised his
eyebrows at me. “Hey, man, you okay?”
I pushed myself up and gasped after inhaling a mouthful of spaghetti. I started to get up but
my hand accidentally landed on my bowl of soup and I crashed back down.
Laughter resonated through the whole cafeteria and even the lunch ladies were sniggering.
I was glad for the hood, though, because nobody could see how red my face was—almost as
red as the tomato sauce that covered my nose, flecked my lashes, and made me look like a
clown with a grotesque red smile painted around my lips.
 I hurriedly got up to my feet, ignoring the helpful hand Colin was offering me, and ran out
of the cafeteria.
I sprinted to the nearest girls’ bathroom and removed the black sweatshirt. I turned the
faucet on and splashed icy water on my face, scrubbing the spaghetti off. Some had even
reached my neck.
Once I was clean, I checked the damage on the black sweatshirt. I picked out the spaghetti
bits here and there and sprinkled water on the soup stains. I still needed to use it later on, but I
definitely wasn’t using it in school; people would recognize me as the clumsy freak that’d
fallen into her plate of pasta.
I took deep breaths, my heart thundering inside my ribcage like an army of horses. Even if
nobody knew that it’d been me, what happened was really humiliating and I could still
remember the sound of their cruel harsh laughter.
Tears filled my eyes and I angrily wiped them away. Why was I crying? It was just a little
slip-up, that’s all.
And then the image of Colin’s outstretched hand appeared in my hand and my heart
swelled. He was so nice.
“Nice, yeah, right,” I muttered to my reflection in the mirror. “If he was really nice, he’d
give back the black notebook.”
I sniffed and shoved the black sweatshirt into my backpack. I pulled on my gray cardigan
and deposited my backpack in my locker before going into the cafeteria once again, but as
another person.
As I passed by a table, I could hear them whispering and laughing over what had just
happened. “Did you see that? It was so hilarious!”
I tried my best to hold back a blush and to keep my expression blank as I took a tray and
got the same exact food I asked for earlier on. The lunch lady who handed me my second
bottle of cold water gave me a suspicious look but didn’t say anything. I paid for my lunch,
theatrically looked at the scattered food on the floor with a tilted head, as if I was wondering
what had happened, and simply stepped over it.
I walked towards Karen, Jeremiah, and Lola and took a seat at their table. “Hey, guys,” I
said breathlessly. “Sorry I took so long.”
“It’s fine,” Jeremiah said, taking a swig of his drink, “but it sucks you didn’t get to see it.”
“See what?” I asked curiously. “Does it have anything to do with the spilled food over
there?” I pointed at the place where I’d graciously made a fool of myself just a few minutes
ago.
“Yeah, some kid slipped and fell straight into his food,” Lola explained, giggling. She
coughed and said, “Everybody laughed but I guess I do pity him a little. I wonder where he
ran off to.”
“Wait, he?” I echoed incredulously.
“It was a guy who fell,” Karen stated.
“Are you sure?” I asked. I couldn’t believe they thought I was a guy!
“Um, pretty sure,” she said, looking at me weirdly. And then her eyes trailed up to my hair
and widened at whatever she saw there. “Seven?”
“What?” I asked, looking over at her. “What’s wrong?”
She reluctantly reached up and retrieved a small piece of spaghetti noodle, which she
showed me. “Why do you have spaghetti in your hair?”
I gaped at it. I probably didn’t notice it when I was washing up! Who knew how long it
had been there!
 I laughed nervously and joked, “Oh no, I think I’m growing spaghetti noodles up there.
Ha, ha…”
I hated my life.

***

At four o’clock, after the bell had signaled the end of another day of school, I called up my
mom.
“Hello?” she answered at the second ring.
“Hey, Mom, it’s Seven. I’m coming home a little later than expected. It’s just, you know,
some important project that I have to do at a friend’s house,” I lied.
“I wish you could’ve told me a little earlier. I already made dinner for you,” Mom replied,
her voice tinted with dismay. “Oh well. Will you be coming home for dinner, though?”
I thought about it carefully, assessing the time needed to accomplish the plan I had in mind
for that afternoon. “I’m not sure—probably.”
“Alright, well, one of your father’s clients invited us to dinner; so, in case you do want
something, I’ll just leave it in the refrigerator. It’s chicken. You know how to heat it up,
right?” she asked me.
“Of course,” I said immediately.
As expected of my mother, she added, “Don’t make a mess, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I drawled, rolling my eyes.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mom,” I quickly denied. “Love you.”
“I know you do, honey. Love you too. Bye.” And with that, she promptly hung up. I
detached the phone from my ear and looked around the hallway for Colin’s red head. The
place was filled with students talking to their friends, gathering their books from their lockers
and making last-minute confirmations with teachers about certain assignments, but I was
eventually able to spot him a couple of lockers down, surrounded by several people, as
always.
I was tempted to dash to the nearest girls’ bathroom and change into the black sweatshirt
again, but I didn’t want to risk attracting attention to my second identity, which was already
known to the whole school: Spaghetti Clown. Or so my classmates in last period told me.
So I waited.
I lingered in front of my locker, pretending to be texting when in fact I was simply playing
Bejeweled to kill time. People I both knew and didn’t know approached me with new secrets
and problems, begging to be solved, and I smiled, gave them advice, and hoped that I would
be able to remember it all when I finally had the black notebook back.
By the time the students had all dispersed and most had left school grounds, it was already
nearing five o’clock, but according to my watch, only at exactly five-thirteen did Colin decide
to go home.
He walked out of the main building, still waving at his friends, and headed to the senior
parking lot. I followed him at a distance of ten feet, making sure that I could hide easily in a
corner or behind a wall in case he suddenly sensed my presence and looked back.
From what I could observe though, he hadn’t noticed me yet. He was even whistling
jauntily as he juggled his car keys.
 In the parking lot, he accidentally dropped his car keys and cursed under his breath. He
skidded to a halt and crouched down to pick them up. This sudden movement caused me to
jog backwards as quietly as I could and hide behind a bush.
Colin straightened and looked around him. Save for a few students standing near their cars
and chatting, the parking lot was empty. After a few seconds, he continued his walk and was
soon juggling his keys again.
I left my hiding place and continued tailing him all the way to a 1979 Ford truck, which
was painted a pale blue color. For some reason, the choice of car matched his personality. I
tried to imagine him in a sports car or a motorcycle and, although it would certainly make him
look like a hot billionaire playboy, it wasn’t him.
I watched as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. As he looked out through the
windshield of his car, I turned away and quickly fished out my phone, pretending to take a
call. I surreptitiously glanced at him at the corner of my eye and was relieved to see that his
gaze merely passed by my silhouette.
I ended the call I was pretending to have and calmly walked out of the parking lot and into
the bustling streets full of people walking and cars rushing by. I quickly looked around for
any taxis. Luckily, someone stepped out of one at a near corner and I sprinted towards it
before the previous person was even finished paying.
As I slipped into the backseat, the driver looked at me through the rearview mirror and
asked, “Where to, young lady?”
“Um,” I started, hesitating as I craned my neck and watched Colin’s car weave between
the other cars in the parking lot and leave the premises of the school. I pointed at his car and
said, “Follow that truck.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Look, lady, I’m not a fan of stalking. If you’re just going to
make me follow a boy around, I suggest you get another taxi driver to do it—”
“I’m not stalking!” I almost shouted at the man. And it was true. It was all just part of the
plan. I had my reasons for doing it and stalking just for the sake of stalking was most
definitely not one of them. “It’s just I…look, I’ll pay you an additional five bucks if you do
it.”
I could see by the expression of his face that he was taking it into great consideration.
“Alright,” he acquiesced, “fine.” He turned back to the wheel and pressed on the pedal as
if his life depended on it.
Colin had already made a right turn while I was bribing the driver, and even though there
were several cars that had rushed past us in the heat of traffic, he was somehow able to
squeeze in between the tiniest spaces so that we ended up right behind Colin’s truck.
I leaned back in my seat, heaving a sigh. All I had to do now was to wait.
I brought out the black sweatshirt from my backpack and exchanged it for my cardigan. I
zipped it all the way up but didn’t pull the hood on. I scooted to one side of the car and looked
out the window. The sky had quickly changed to a darker shade of blue with hints of orange
just above the buildings. The cars had all stopped, every once in a while moving an inch
forward, but after a couple of minutes they all started moving again at a normal pace.
As the cab followed Colin’s truck the streets were becoming familiar. Los Angeles was
almost double the size of New York, and getting lost in it wasn’t all that unlikely, especially
when the farthest I’d gone to from my home was the Hollywood sign, and that was when I
was eight and we were on a family trip.
It had always been school, the bookstore, and then home for me. Sometimes during the
weekends I’d go to the mall or to the library and sometimes the movie theatre, but I was
always walking on familiar ground.
 Right then the tall buildings with graffiti painted on them were starting to fade away to
small restaurants and stores and simple houses. Soon we were surrounded with houses on
either side and I didn’t even know the street name.
I craned my neck and watched Colin’s car stop in front of a cream-colored house, matched
prettily with a dark blue roof.
“Stop right here,” I told the driver, three blocks away from Colin’s house. I retrieved the
money from my wallet and handed it to the man. He snatched it from between my fingers and
examined it in the fading sunlight streaming through his windshield, checking if it was a fake.
Once he was satisfied, he folded it up and nodded, stuffing it into the front pocket of his
shirt.
I slipped out of the shirt and checked my watch. It was ten past six in the evening. I had to
get this finished quickly.
I quickly tied my hair and hid it under the hood. I bowed my head and started making my
way as casually as possible towards Colin’s house. His car’s engine was already cut off and
he was nowhere to be seen. He must’ve already been inside with his family.
As my foot landed on the grass of their lawn a part of me still couldn’t believe that I was
actually doing this. Begging and stealing the black notebook back in school was one thing,
but entering Colin’s house unseen—hopefully—and grabbing what I needed before escaping
swiftly seemed more like what a thief would do rather than a person who wanted her stuff
back... This made me hesitate.
But all those secrets…and all the people who trusted me with them…I reminded myself. If
I don’t get the notebook back, so many reputations and relationships will be ruined because of
me. They would all surely hate me! I have to do this!
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead. I walked under the shade of
Colin’s house and crawled on my elbows and knees under one of the windows on the ground
floor. I wasn’t that good in sports or anything related to it, so it took me a while, which lead
me to overhear someone I could only assume was his mother: “Oh, Colin. You’re home pretty
late.”
“Oh, yeah,” replied my target. “I stayed behind with my friends. Sorry about that.”
Hm. So he was the kind of teenager who was honest with his parents. For some reason,
that made me proud of him. I shook my head, the tall grass brushing the tip of my nose. This
was silly. I was supposed to be mad at him. I’m mad at him. He stole my notebook. I’m mad
at him.
“It’s alright,” his mother replied and I could hear the clinking of plates against wood. They
were probably just about to have dinner. Perfect. “Just tell me next time if you’re going to be
late so I won’t worry.”
“Okay, Mom,” Colin said as heavy footsteps stomped on what must’ve been stairs. “I’ll
just go up to my room now.”
“Don’t take too long. Dinner’s already set.”
I crawled some more until I was done with the windows at one side of the house. The next
one, the back, had a large oak tree right beside it with some of its gnarled branches twisting
with the railings of one of the balconies up in the second floor. I looked up just in time and
saw the lights in that room turn on. I glanced at the other rooms but they’d already been lit
since a while ago. That must be Colin’s room.
Suddenly the glass doors to the balcony swung open and Colin stepped out. I dove right
into the grass and immediately pressed my back to the wall, my heart hammering. Did he see
me?
 From my spot I couldn’t see Colin’s expression, but he didn’t call out so I figured I wasn’t
caught yet. I patted away some grass that had stuck to my sweatshirt and tentatively stepped
forward, my eyes watching for any movements. I spotted a pair of hands hanging limply over
the railing. I recognized those hands.
It felt like an eternity as I waited for his hands to disappear or for the silence he kept to
end. Finally, I heard Colin sigh, mutter something I couldn’t hear, and then those hands went
away. I waited one full minute before I came out of my hiding place. He was already inside
his room.
After three minutes—according to my watch—I heard footfalls again downstairs and then
Colin’s voice jovially ask, “Ooh, what’s for dinner, Mom? It smells awesome.”
This was my chance. Still crouching, I quickly headed to the base of the tree and tilted my
head up. It wasn’t that tall, with only a foot on the house, but I wasn’t exactly the type of girl
who climbed trees.
I looked around, trying to see if there were any ladders I could borrow, but the only thing
that I spotted was a doghouse with a golden retriever curled up inside, sleeping.
I held my breath. If I made any sound that might wake it up, just one bark from it could
make his entire family aware of my presence and location. I had to climb. It was now or
never.
I remembered some of the heroes and heroines I’d read about in my novels and tried to
summon the courage they’d had when they had to do what I was about to do. My mind went
back to the words that the authors had written, describing what to do when climbing a tree.
I hesitantly planted my foot at one of the roots and a hand on the rough bark. My fingers
searched for some handholds and found a few holes. I dug my other foot into a small
indention on the tree and tiptoed slowly, using my hand to reach for the nearest branch. I
strained my muscles and wrapped my fingers around it.
Using my knees to hug the trunk of the tree, I pulled myself up until I could place my foot
on the branch. My arms strained with my body weight, my legs dangling slightly, but I
refused to look down for any footholds.
I was breathing heavily by then. I wanted so badly to go back down to the safe place where
I could feel the ground underneath my sneakers, but it was too late to back down. Besides, I
had no idea how to get down from my position so the only way was up.
Carefully I stretched my arm out and took hold of a branch beside me. Turning my head to
the other side, I could see that I was one branch away from the balcony. I shimmied towards
another branch and soon I was sitting on it, edging my way towards the railing and trying not
to look down.
My hands were trembling as they patted their way to the railing. Once I felt its hard,
rectangular shape, I reached out with my other hand and pulled my feet over it. The moment
my feet landed on the solid flat floor of the balcony I nearly collapsed. Sweat dripped down
the side of my face as I took deep, heavy breaths and tried to slow my heart rate.
When I’d finally calmed down, I got up to my feet and wobbled into Colin’s room.
I didn’t know what I’d expected.
But I definitely wasn’t expecting dozens of drawings and sketches taped to the walls,
posters of bands I didn’t know, and pictures of friends and family at special occasions and
breathtaking views. At one side of the room there was large desk that looked like it was
drowning underneath all the sketchpads and pencils and rulers and eraser bits strewn on it. On
the wall surrounding the desk were more drawings and sketches and pictures all tacked
straight to the wall with colored pins.
 His closet had been left open and clothes were dumped carelessly at its foot. A large poster
of what looked like Chicago was stuck on the door. His sneakers were kicked to the side and
his backpack sat on his bed, which had gray sheets and mismatched pillows. There was large
TV balanced on a low shelf with a collection of DVDs and video games behind glass doors
and a couch with a checkered wool blanket thrown over the seat was placed in front of it.
I took a moment to look around, drinking in the sight that Colin would see every time he
woke up and every time he went to sleep, the place where he’d grown up since he was a little
boy, the place that he thought of as his private sanctuary, a place where he could be alone.
I tried to imagine what it was like for him in there. Did he sit properly on the couch or did
he lie down with the side of his face pressed against the armrest with his limbs dangling off
the edge? Did he do his homework on the desk or did he study on the bed, a pencil between
his teeth?
And then I wondered if he’d ever invited a girl to his room. I frowned at the thought and
decided to focus on the matter at hand.
I glanced at my watch and saw it flick to six forty-six. I had to move quickly. I’d wasted so
much time on climbing the tree and slowing my rapid breathing afterwards.
Colin and his family were probably already in the middle of eating or were sharing stories
about their day over dessert, like my mom and I usually did. Hopefully he would decide to
watch some TV before coming back up to his room so I could have more time to look around.
I walked towards his bed, making my footsteps as quiet as possible (I didn’t know if his
floorboards creaked), and looked under the sheets and pillows. I looked through his backpack,
digging through the junk inside and found nothing. I hurried to his desk and rummaged
through the things there. I tried not to mess it up too much that the next time he was seated
there he’d notice the difference.
But alas the black notebook was nowhere to be found.
I paced inside his room, planting my hands on hips and clicking my tongue irritably.
Where did he hide it? Could it be that he took it with him? If he had, then this plan was an
utter failure. I’d have to—
The doorknob suddenly jiggled, but I was too caught in surprise to try and hide myself as
the door swung open. I stood there frozen, my heart attempting to jump out of my chest, and
waited for the person to come in and spot me.
It was Colin.
He looked up and, the moment his eyes landed on me, he yelled a curse and put a hand to
his chest. I winced. Unlike yesterday at the lockers, he couldn’t hold back his shock.
From downstairs, I could hear the sound of chairs screeching against the floor and voices
saying, “Colin, are you alright? What’s the matter?”
Colin stared at me and I couldn’t put a finger on his expression, but I was pretty sure it
wasn’t a good one. I was so dead. Why did he have to come back up to his room so early?
Instead of telling his family that there was a thief in his room and that they should call the
police to bring me to the nuthouse like I expected him to, his eyes never leaving me, he
replied, “Sorry! It’s nothing.”
He didn’t wait for his family to respond. He immediately walked into his room and kicked
the door shut. I was alone with him in his room. If the circumstances were different, I would
have blushed or felt extremely embarrassed. But right then I merely paled.
In three strides he was right in front of me, so near that I could feel the warmth of his body,
and he seized my upper arm in his large hand. “What on earth are you doing here, Seven?
Have you gone crazy?”
 “I—look, Colin, it’s not what you think! You’re—you’re not supposed to come up yet!” I
said lamely. “Why are you here?”
“I was coming up to take a bath when I caught you red-handed,” he said, narrowing his
eyes at me, and then added, “and isn’t that supposed to be my question, you stalker?”
I blinked. Colin looked so serious, so different from how he was in school, that it
frightened me. But only then did I see the laughter in his eyes.
“I’m not a stalker!” I said, shaking my arm free out of his grasp. I glared at him and
declared, “I just want my notebook back!”
For the first time in the whole exchange, he smiled at me and said, “Give it up already.”
He had no idea how much I wanted to but I had to keep my stand. “Return it to me right
now, Colin, or I’ll take it to even more extreme measures.”
“Oh, what a threat,” he said mockingly and then grinned, raising his hands and joking, “All
of your secrets are mine!” And then he burst into such an evil laughter.
That single line made me stop. Did that mean he’d read what was inside the notebook
already? It wasn’t unlikely. Curiosity had probably overcome him and now he knew
everything. The secrets were out.
“No!” I practically screamed, not caring if his family could hear us downstairs or if the
entire world did. I shoved at his chest angrily, demanding, “Give it back to me! Give it back!”
I heard Colin say, “Whoa!” before I collided against him and we fell down onto his bed.
Somehow, I ended up on top of him, my face buried at the crook of his neck and my legs
ungracefully planted on either side of his hips. I could feel the weight of his arm around my
waist as I pushed myself up and found myself nose-to-nose with Colin Stillman.
Time stopped and so did my heart.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, just staring at each other with equally wide
eyes, but thankfully I realized what I was doing, and what I looked like, and immediately
began to scramble off him, stammering, “I-I’m sorry, Colin, I didn’t mean to—”
But before I could get off him, his hands shot out and took my wrists. He flipped me
over—he was surprisingly strong—and pinned my hands above my head.
Colin grinned mischievously down at me. “Naughty little Seven,” he said, his breath
tickling my cheek. “If you just wanted a chance with me, you could’ve just said so.”
“What? No! It was an accident!” I squeaked, struggling to get my hands free so I could
push him away because he was getting too close for comfort, but he still held me captive. He
snorted and I swallowed down a whimper. “Please, let me go. I—I can’t breathe.”
For some reason Colin must have found that funny because he chuckled and asked, “Is that
so?” He drew even closer. “What about now?”
I opened my mouth and I had no idea anymore whether it was to take a breath or to answer
him since my mind was pretty fuzzy, when from the other side of the door someone called,
“Colin? Are you sure you’re okay? I heard shouting.”
Colin’s head snapped up immediately and he muttered under his breath, “Oh, no. Mom.”
He rolled off me and I could breathe again, but it wasn’t even a second after before he
pulled me up to my feet and told me, “Go under the bed.”
“But—”
“Now, Seven.”
“Colin?” his mom asked, sounding worried. “Is someone else in there with you?”
“Uh, no, Mom!” he called back just as I crawled under his bed. There was a thin layer of
dust coating old shoeboxes and forgotten toys, and I had to pinch my nose so as to not inhale
it. From my position, I could see the door click open and a pair of legs belonging to a woman
walked in.
“What’s up?” I heard Colin say casually as his weight made the bed sink a little. He
must’ve sat down.
His mom didn’t answer immediately. “I’m sure I heard other voices in here…”
He laughed—a little nervously—and said, “Mom, you’re being silly. Voices? I think
you’re still recovering from that horror movie we watched with Cass.”
I could almost imagine his mom frown at him as she declared, “I am not.”
I watched as his mother strode towards his bed and it sunk a little more. “Colin, is there
anything you want to tell me?” she asked.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong—”
“No, I don’t mean that,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I mean, are you
going through something emotional? Because it is very normal for teenagers around your age
to experience a lot of things all at once, Candice told me. You know you can always talk to
me, right?”
It sounded as if Colin had choked on a frog. “Mom,” he said bashfully. “I’m fine, really.”
I clapped my hands over my mouth and giggled.
Colin slammed his fist against his bed cushion and the underside slammed against my
head.
“Ouch!” I involuntarily blurted.
Colin immediately covered it with a loud cough and said, “Ou—oh, oh, no I think I have a
cough.”
“Colin, are you alright? Do you need a glass of water?”
Colin laughed and said, “False alarm, Mom. Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I should
go take a bath now. Go back down before Dad finishes all the pudding.” The bed creaked and
I could see Colin’s sneakers going around the bed and stopping in front of his mom.
He was probably dragging her out because her feet stumbled and she said, “Colin! What’s
the rush for?”
“I, uh, I can’t change with you in here, Mom! Jeez. And I still have homework to do.
Come on.”
“Alright, alright, I’m going.”
I inched closer to the edge of the bed and looked up to see Colin and his mom standing by
the door. It wasn’t all that surprising that his mom was beautiful—I mean, just look at the
son!—but she looked young and I wondered how old she was.
My eyes drifted to the red hair that Colin had inherited, but hers was like the color of wine,
curled and cascading down to her chest. Even from this distance I could see that she had blue
eyes, not green. Colin must’ve gotten them from his dad.
His mom reached out and pinched his cheek, which made him grimace. She looked at him
lovingly and said, “I can’t believe my little pumpkin’s all grown up.”
“Mom,” he groaned, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. He gently pulled her hand
away. “Stop calling me that already.”
I clamped my mouth shut, trying to keep the laughter within. I was so close to bursting.
Colin probably heard me because he cleared his throat and smiled tightly.
His mom giggled and said, “Fine then, big man.” With that, she walked out of the room
and closed the door behind her. Colin let out a sigh of relief as he leaned his back against the
door. I waited for five full seconds before I laughed out loud, rolling out of the shadow of his
bed.
He looked down at me with narrowed eyes and asked, “What’s so funny, Seven?”
“Nothing,” I said, titling my head up so I could look at him from my place on the floor,
“my little pumpkin.” And then I burst out laughing again while clutching my stomach.
Colin pursed his lips, for once out of words to say, and only managed an “It’s not funny.”
I smirked up at him and threw his words back at him: “You just don’t find it funny because
you’re the butt of the joke.”
As Colin frowned at me I pushed myself into a sitting position and from there stood up. I
dusted off my pants and shirt without taking my eyes away from Colin. “So, I assume you
don’t want anyone else to know that your mother still calls you little pumpkin, right?”
“Duh,” he said, knitting his eyebrows at me. “Would you?”
“No,” I said, grinning, “and that’s why I’m only going to say this once: give me back the
black notebook or I’m telling everybody in school. And don’t think I don’t have any useful
connections.”
I felt my heart leap in victory as Colin started to look worried but contrary to his
expression, he said, “They wouldn’t believe you, anyway.”
I crossed my arms and looked at him smugly, “Oh, really?”
He thought about it and then said, “Fine. If they do, wouldn’t they wonder why you were
in my house in the first place? Wouldn’t that make them think that there’s something between
us when there isn’t?”
His last sentence hurt, but his words were true. My face fell, the laughter died in my throat,
and when I didn’t say anything to that, he asked—his face saying all the words that he didn’t
need to say—“Do you want that?”
I cursed myself silently for admitting, “No.” My shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Good,” he said, smiling, “I didn’t think so. Now I suggest you better get going before my
mom sees us this time, or worse, one of my sisters. I would never hear the end of it.” He
paused and then asked, “How did you get in here, anyway?”
“I climbed the tree,” I said, pointing just outside his balcony. I only noticed then how dark
the sky was already. I wondered if the taxi driver was still there.
“You did?” he asked in surprise and stepped out onto the balcony. “It’s a pretty hard climb.
Can you climb back down?”
I didn’t feel the need to tell Colin that I took more than half an hour climbing and proudly
declared, “Of course I can!”
I walked towards the branch and took a deep breath before swinging one leg over the
railing. I made the mistake of looking down. The earth seemed to swim and I could feel my
body falling forward. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the railing as hard as I
could, my nails digging into the wood.
“Seven!” I heard Colin call my name and then his hand was on my shoulder. “Hey, are you
okay?”
“I’m fine,” I breathed out, but I refused to open my eyes.
Colin sighed and said, “Look, get off there. I’ll climb down first. If ever you fall, I can
always catch you.”
That actually sounded really nice and encouraging but I shook my head firmly. “No, I can
do it.”
 “Seven, I know you can’t, so just move it,” he told me frankly, detaching me from my
perch on the railing. He took my place and easily crawled towards the tree. He swung from
branch to branch, his feet automatically finding the footholds and his hands the handholds. In
a matter of minutes he was already at the ground, looking up at me.
“Okay,” he whispered loudly, “your turn.”
“It seems like you’ve done this before,” I commented, still not making a move.
“I’ve escaped several times to go to parties, okay?” he said exasperatedly, giving me a
look. “Now get down from there.”
I swallowed nervously before trying to imitate what he’d done just then. I lacked the
balance and confidence though, so I did it slowly, making Colin tap his foot impatiently.
“I think I’m already a hundred years old,” he said when I had just landed safely on the
second branch.
“Shut up, will you?” I said, straightening to stand on the branch. The wood creaked and
Colin immediately took a step forward, all jokes pushed aside. He reached out with his arms,
ready to catch me. “Hey, be careful!”
“I don’t need you to tell me that!” I said defiantly, preparing to place my foot on a branch
at the other side of the tree and slowly shimmy my way down, but I slipped and, before I
knew it, I was falling.
“SEVEN!” Colin shouted. I let out a little scream and as the world turned into a big blur.
Time seemed to move both slowly and fast forward. I flailed my hands in an attempt to reach
out for something—anything—but I only felt air, and even that slipped through my fingers.
One moment I was still falling, and in the next, I crashed into Colin and we both got the
wind knocked out of us. The impact was hard and painful and I twisted my ankle in the
process.
He groaned and coughed. I could hear the rumble in his chest. “Well, that was fun,” he
deadpanned. I rolled off him, panting, with tears in my eyes. I hadn’t even taken another
breath before I heard the sound of a dog barking. Paws padded on the grass towards us. Oh
no.
I looked up just in time before something yellow jumped on me and started licking my
face. I screamed in surprise and tried to push the dog away but it kept getting its slobber on
me.
“Ah! Lassie! Stop it! Bad girl!” he scolded the dog. He tugged at the collar until Lassie
finally detached herself from me and went over to her owner. He looked up at me and said, “I
think you should go, Seven, before my whole family sees you.”
“Right,” I said weakly, getting to my feet. I winced when I put pressure on my sprained
ankle but I managed to limp away. I could already see the taxi driver still waiting for me. I
was almost out of Colin’s lawn when he called me, “Hey.”
I turned to look back and saw him still lying on the grass, his dog beside him, wagging her
tail enthusiastically.
He smiled at me and said, “I’ll be looking forward to more of your antics, Seven
Warrilow.”
 Entry 6: Plan E – Brute Force

Date: March 16, 2013

I was able to hide the fact that I’d sprained my ankle all until the next morning when I was
climbing down the stairs and I looked like someone with a hip dislocation, or so my mother
said. So I told her that I’d sprained my ankle last night on my way home but that I didn’t want
to worry her by saying anything.
“But it’s my responsibility to be worried!” she protested and then whisked me off to the
nearest clinic we could find. The doctor told her not to stress over my ankle since it just had a
minor twist. He told me to stay at home for the next few days and rest and exercise it every
once in a while. And that in a week or so, I would be good as new.
“What happened?” she asked me on the way home, assisting me in walking and acting as
my cane replacement.
I obviously couldn’t tell her that I was in a boy’s house, in a boy’s room, and was in a
boy’s bed around six in the evening. She’d go ballistic. So I simply said, “I, uh, my foot got
caught in a crack in the cement and I fell.”
“You have to be more careful next time, Seven,” she told me, worry lines forming on her
forehead. “You’re lucky you didn’t get a head injury or something worse.”
“Mom,” I said exasperatedly. “You’re becoming paranoid. I only got a sprained ankle.
Don’t worry, I promise I’ll be more careful, okay?”
“Alright,” she said, heaving a sigh, “but no more school for you for the rest of the week.
You can go back on Monday, if you really have to, since you’re almost finished with your
junior year.”
“That’s great! That means more reading time for me!” I exclaimed and laughed when she
shook her head and rolled her eyes at me.
For the next two days, I did nothing but sit in my room, my ankle wrapped in thick
bandage and propped on a pillow, and read the new books I’d bought. Although I was glad
that I could be free of all the secret keeping and chasing after Colin, another part of me was
itching to escape out of my room and sneak into Colin’s room to search for it again.
But I had to rest. I could gather my energy for another plan on Monday.
On Saturday I got my first visitors—my cousins Nate, Nick, and Neil. Nate was already in
his fourth year of college, Nick in his second, and Neil was my age. Their younger sisters,
April and May, were still in the sixth and third grade respectively, which was probably why
they didn’t come. But I didn’t mind; I was closer to my male cousins.
Call me an attention seeker, but I loved how they all showered me with kindness and
protected me as if they were my three older brothers.
They all had brown hair, getting it from my dad’s side of the family, but they inherited
their mother’s blue eyes. You could say that these three were a bunch of lady-killers in their
school. We all used to attend the same middle school, the one April and May were currently
in, and even back then you’d hear several girls giggling over them and whispering about how
lucky I was to be related to them.
Faye, the rich girl who came from that same middle school with me all the way to my
current high school, had a crush on Nick, for some reason.
Out of the three, Nick was the most quiet, the book reader in the family, and we often
exchanged titles of books we liked and bought each other novels we knew we wanted for
Christmas. He was my favorite cousin, but he usually didn’t care about girls, hence my
confusion.
Despite being the eldest brother, and supposedly the most mature, Nate was the noisiest.
He was in football college, always loved roughhousing with his brothers—which Nick
disliked since he was the slimmest—and going to parties with a girl on each arm.
Neil was more like his eldest brother than the second, but less noisy. He used to be a really
shy boy and was bullied often, but when girls started noticing him he turned into quite a
playboy.
Oh, and one more thing about these three idiots: they didn’t observe the proper etiquette of
knocking before entering.
This could be easily proven by what they did first thing Saturday morning, when I was still
sleeping with a book left wide open over my chest, and they simply barged in and Nate, in his
loud voice, boomed, “Good morning, Seven! Rise and shine!”
My eyes snapped open and I blinked at them in surprise. I sat up immediately and pointed
an accusing finger at them. “What on earth are you three doing in my room?” I demanded and
I thought distractedly that this must’ve been what Colin felt like when he found me in his
room the other night.
Neil grinned, casually walked over to my bed, and sat down as if he owned the place. He
said, “Of course, we’re here to entertain you. It must’ve been boring doing nothing but
reading all day.”
“No, it’s not,” I said at the same time Nick did. I shared a glance with him and smiled
knowingly. He grabbed my desk chair, dragged it closer to my bed, and sat down. He then
observed the stack of books I had beside my bed. “Are these new, Seven?”
“Yup, and I finished half of them yesterday,” I stated proudly.
Nick smirked at me and countered, “I finished a series of seven books in one day.”
I frowned at him. Nick and I were always competing on who was the fastest reader, and
though sometimes I skipped sentences or paragraphs just so I could be done with a book, Nick
always won. How could he read so fast?
There was a time that I actually accused him of cheating, but he asked me to test him on a
book that I knew really well from cover to cover. He read it right there in front of me for an
hour and a half, and then said, “Done.”
I asked him the hard questions, the details, the characters’ descriptions, but he answered all
of them, even correcting some of my errors and quoting lines to prove it. He was definitely an
alien, no doubt.
“Okay, before you two go into your own little corner of the universe and talk about books
again,” Nate said with a roll of his eyes, “can you tell me what happened to you, Seven?”
“Didn’t Mom tell you?” I asked, yawning while scooting back and leaning against my
headboard.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “She said something about being at a friend’s house with
Uncle Sean”—he meant my dad—“and that the three of us are going to be your babysitters
for the morning.”
 I scowled at him and whined, “I don’t need a babysitter, much less three!”
“Well,” Neil said, crossing his arms, “she wouldn’t want you to get yourself hurt again.”
“By doing what, flushing myself down the toilet?” I countered. Nick sniggered and Nate
rolled his eyes—again. “Just answer the question, Seven. What happened?”
“Nothing,” I said, shrugging. “I was just walking back home when I tripped over a crack in
the cement and twisted my ankle.”
“You didn’t see the crack?” Neil asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Uh, it was around seven in the evening and I was thinking about…something, so I didn’t
notice.”
Nick furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “What were you doing out so late?” He knew my
everyday routine as well as I did—school, bookstore, and then back home.
I swallowed nervously and said, “I was at a friend’s house.” Although I couldn’t exactly
count Colin as a friend, I was at his house so it wasn’t a lie, but my cousins wouldn’t buy it.
Nate narrowed his eyes at me, scrutinizing me, and then concluded with a mischievous
smile, “I think you’re hiding something.”
“What?” I asked, my voice pitching high. “What are you talking about? Hiding something?
I’m not hiding anything.”
Nate continued to stare at me for a while before he turned to Nick and asked, “What do
you think, bro? You know her best.”
I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of this when Nick stated, “I don’t believe her either.”
“So what could she have been doing so late at night?” Neil asked his older brothers
curiously.
Nate shrugged and said, “I’m not sure. She’s definitely doesn’t want us to know because
we’d tease her about it or tell Uncle Sean, so it’s probably something really important to her
and something that would make Uncle Sean’s eyes fall out.”
I was both horrified and amazed at how they knew me so well.
“Could she have been doing something illegal?” Neil wondered aloud and I cleared my
throat loudly. “Hello? I’m still here.”
They ignored me. “I don’t think so,” Nick said quietly, rubbing his chin in thought. “Seven
isn’t the type of girl who’s interested in those kinds of wild things. It must’ve been something
that any ordinary girl around the age of sixteen to seventeen would want to do.”
I glared at the three of them. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!”
They ignored me still—until Nate widened his eyes and snapped his fingers in excitement.
“I’ve got it!” he proclaimed to the world. He pointed rudely at me and announced, “You were
with a boy, weren’t you Seven?”
Someone shoot me, please.
“That’s ridiculous!” I denied but I couldn’t help the blush as I recalled how Colin had
effortlessly pinned me to the bed and teased me about my sudden lack of oxygen. I
remembered how intensely his green eyes bore into mine and—
“Aha!” Neil said, jumping up and pointing at me as well. I should talk with Uncle Douglas
about their lack of social decency. “The red taint on her cheeks proves it! She was with a
boy!”
Nick smiled at me, amused. “I definitely wasn’t expecting that of you, Seven. Sometimes I
forget that you are growing up.”
“So, who’s the boy we’re supposed to beat up?” Nate asked, cracking his knuckles and
grinning.
 “You’re not beating up anyone!” I insisted, fisting my hands tightly.
Neil patted my knee gently and nodded solemnly. “No need to be shy about it, Seven, we
can understand how your hormones at this age can easily get out of hand.”
I groaned and dug the heel of my hands into my eyes. Man, this was exhausting. “You
guys are not listening,” I said.
“Look, Seven,” Nick said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees, “we’ll
stop annoying you if you just tell us what is going on between you and this boy you were with
last night.”
It was pointless trying to deny it now. The assumption that I was with a boy last night
(which was actually the truth, but I wasn’t admitting that) had turned into a solid fact for my
cousins. They weren’t going to let this one slide.
“There’s nothing between us,” I said, sighing exasperatedly. “It’s just that…he has
something that I really need.”
“What’s this ‘something’ you’re talking about?” Neil asked and then widened his eyes.
“Did he steal something from you?”
“That son of a—” Nate started, looking like he wanted to rip Colin to pieces. I frantically
waved my hands around and said, “No! He didn’t technically steal anything from me”—yeah,
right—“he just…won’t return it.”
“Seven, that’s almost the same thing,” Nick said matter-of-factly.
“No, it’s not!” I protested some more. I didn’t know why I was reacting like this. Didn’t I
want to get the black notebook back as soon as possible and save what secrets were left? This
was my chance to get it back—but I was more than a little hesitant to take it.
Maybe I just wanted to do things on my terms. Besides, who knew what these three would
do to Colin once they’d got their hands on him?
That thought made me pause for a while. I swept a quick glance over my cousins and
noticed how leanly built they were—Nate for his football games while Neil had gotten
stronger so that no one would bully him anymore. Nick was the most slender among them but
he was strong, especially after working out with his brothers during his spare time.
And then I got an idea for my next plan.
“Okay,” I said, “do you guys really want to help me out?”
“Of course we do, Sev,” Nate said, his hardened expression softening as he looked at me,
“which is why we’re going to beat this kid up for you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not beating up anyone?” I said, rolling
my eyes. “Alright, if you want to help me, then you have to promise, swear, cross your heart
and hope to die, whatever, that you’re most definitely not going to hurt him.”
Neil turned sharply to me and raised his eyebrows. “My, my,” he drawled, smiling, “is
little Seven in love with this boy?”
“You’re getting off topic, Neil,” I said, avoiding the question I didn’t know how to answer.
I looked each boy in the eye, one at a time. “So, do you guys promise?”
The three brothers glanced at each other, a hidden message being sent to one another
without having to say anything. Finally, they sighed and then turned to me. “Fine,” they all
said in chorus, but unhappily, I noticed.
“Good,” I said, grinning at them. I ripped a piece of paper from my school notebook and
grabbed a pen. As I drew what were supposed to be straight lines, I told them Colin’s address
and asked if they knew where it was.
 As I rode in the cab on the way home, I had taken note of the streets names, landmarks,
and familiar buildings, and after exploring—which got five more dollars out of my wallet—I
considered myself well acquainted with the neighborhood already.
Soon enough, I realized that Colin’s place wasn’t all that far from mine.
“Isn’t that where Lucy lives?” Neil asked Nate, nudging him in the side with his elbow.
Nate stared at Neil with his eyebrows furrowed. “Lucy?” he repeated, unable to recall
whomever that name belonged to. “Who’s Lucy?”
“You know—your ex?” But Nate still couldn’t remember. Well, it was understandable; he
had a lot of exes.
Nick sighed, shaking his head. “I think Neil means Luscious Lips Lucy. Remember her?”
“Oh right, that Lucy!” Nate suddenly exclaimed, snapping his fingers as he finally
realized. “How could I forget? And yeah, I think that’s where she lives.” And then his eyes
widened and he asked me, “Why? Don’t tell me you’re going to make me go there. If she sees
me, I’m dead—or so she said last time I saw her, and I don’t really want to see if she’s going
to fulfill her end of the bargain or not.”
“Sorry, Nate,” I said, not sounding the least apologetic, “but yes, you have to go there
because that’s where our target is.”
“May I ask how you know where the boy lives?” Nick asked, raising a suspicious
eyebrow. All three looked up at me and I swallowed nervously.
“Questions—so many questions!” I said, waving at them dismissively. “Anyway,” I added,
“you three are going to pass through this route since this is the closest to my house and he
rarely uses this. What I do know, though, is that he always gets up to go jogging around”—I
glanced at the clock in my room—“fifteen minutes from now.”
This information wasn’t all that hard to recover. Just from plainly observing Colin’s posts
in Facebook, I’d noticed long before that he always posted on Saturdays at around nine
o’clock in the morning about a certain song he was listening to. His friends would then
comment, asking about how his jog was and how ridiculous he was for posting about
everything he did, which would then turn into a debate, and it wasn’t that hard to figure out
the obvious.
“What does he look like?” Nick asked, while scanning the map I’d drawn.
“Tall, leanly built and has fair skin. He has dark red hair and these really amazing emerald-
green eyes,” I said and quickly clamped my mouth shut. That “amazing” part was definitely
unnecessary. Miraculously, they didn’t notice.
“So, what do we do when we see him?” Nate asked.
“You’re going to capture him and bring him here,” I said simply, as if we were only
talking about where we were going to eat out for lunch, “but make sure that he doesn’t see the
way here so he’ll truly be disoriented. I’ll handle the rest.”
Honestly, I had no idea what to do once my cousins had finally brought him to me, or what
to say. Panic was driving me to do everything and anything I could think of. I was gambling
on the chance that the extreme measures I had been taking would scare him enough to give
the notebook up.
No matter what, I need to protect everyone’s secrets. I owed them that.
Five minutes later, my cousins set out to do their part of the plan after helping me down to
the living room so that I wouldn’t have to hurry down the stairs once they arrived. I killed the
time by reading the book that Nick had brought along with him, but no matter how deeply I
tried to sink myself into the story, each tick of the clock made my skin itch and my gut twist
into tangled knots.
 Sometime later, finally easing my restlessness, I heard the frantic knocking on the
basement door, which was connected to the garage. I dropped the book and limped as quickly
as I could on my bandaged ankle. I wrenched the door open and Nick helped me down the
steps and into the garage.
With the car gone and being used by my parents, the place was almost empty and looked
even messier than it usually did. Stacked on the walls were boxes of forgotten things, both old
and new newspapers unread, and hardware that Dad used for emergencies.
There was a small wooden desk in the corner, its paint washed out and peeling. It used to
be my mom’s but she had passed it on to me and you could say that the years hadn’t been
kind to it as it aged. Nearby, a red beanbag was pouring out its fillings through a rip beside it.
And right in the middle of it all was Colin, under an old lamp hanging from the ceiling like
in one of those detective movies, with his wrists tied together and placed on his lap. If some
criminals left signature marks, like a card or a bloody symbol on the wall, my cousins had one
of their own: a cardboard box with a smiley face in front, covering their victim’s head.
Under the fluorescent light, Colin’s sweat glistened around his neck and plastered his
white T-shirt to his chest, which rose quickly as he panted. He was wearing black jersey
shorts that were just above his knees and white Nike running shoes.
“You guys are awesome,” I whispered to my cousins and they all grinned at me. As they
filed out of the garage, Nick stayed behind and touched me gently on the shoulder. “Are you
sure you’re going to be alright with him alone?” He looked back at Colin with narrowed eyes
as if he expected him to jump up anytime and attack me.
I smiled reassuringly at him and nodded. “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”
“Scream if you need to,” he joked and I punched him playfully on the arm. “You’re being
overdramatic.”
“And you’re not being anticlimactic?” he countered but didn’t persist. Once he was out of
the door I closed it quietly and turned to face Colin.
I slowly made my way to him, circling him carefully and watching for any twitches, any
sign of fear. Infuriatingly, there was none.
“So,” I started, when I was became impatient with the silence we were keeping between
us, “you probably know why you’re here.”
There was no reply.
I stood directly in front of him and said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Colin. I told you
that if you didn’t give back my black notebook, I’d take things to more extreme measures.
This is just the beginning.”
Apparently I was talking with the wall because the answer that bounced back to me was
silence. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms. “You want it that way, huh?” I said, trying
to sound intimidating, “so be it.”
Still, Colin had no words to say to me. A full minute passed before I snapped. “Hey, I’m
talking to you!” I shouted, fisting my hands. I took a step forward and pulled the box off his
head.
The moment the light touched his red hair I realized that having amazingly good looks
held a lot of advantages. One was that people who were affected in any way by these said
good looks could be easily manipulated. Take me, for instance.
Colin had had his eyes closed under the box but, once it was off, he slowly opened them,
focusing those beautiful green orbs on me. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat but
somehow he could pull it off. His exercise had left his cheeks flushed and the light made
shadows dance across his face, engulfing his whole body with a magnificent aura.
And then the jerk just had to smile up at me.
 Of course, silly old me just stood there, staring at him with my mouth agape.
Quick as lightning in that moment, while my guard was down, Colin stood up, raised his
arms, and wrapped them around me, caging me in against him. He broke into an evil laugh.
“I’ve got you now, Seven!”
The sudden movement surprised me and I stumbled, causing my ankle to twist slightly to
the side. I could feel sharp pain in the still healing wound there but I could do nothing to stop
it. I was stuck.
“Ouch!” I said, trying to push him away with my hands but the rope around his wrists was
so tightly tied that I couldn’t break free. “Colin, let me go!”
I wriggled like a worm in his arms, trying to squeeze myself out, but all that did was press
my chest against his. I looked up at him and, to my surprise, I found him staring down at our
bodies, the laughter dying on his lips and his face slowly reddening.
For some reason, he suddenly became flustered. He tugged at his own arms, trying to get
away from me, but something must’ve messed with his head because apparently he’d
forgotten that he shouldn’t pull his arms away but lift them off me. He stepped back in panic
and our legs got tangled, causing the both of us to fall—we’d been falling down together a lot
recently, I’d noticed—and land on the red beanbag.
With a loud oompf, its fillings shot out of the rip and fell softly down like the feathers of an
angel that had just passed by.
I was sitting on Colin’s lap, his arms around my waist and our faces so close that I could
feel the heat radiating off him. Though a part of me was so embarrassed and simply wanted to
get off him, another wanted to linger just a little longer. I stared into Colin’s eyes and noticed
from the corner of my eye the pink blush across his cheekbones.
Somehow I knew it wasn’t there because of his exercise anymore.
He swallowed nervously as his eyes trailed down to my lips and stayed there. My heart
pounded, accelerating with every second that passed as Colin slowly parted his lips and bit his
bottom lip.
“Colin?” I whispered. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind in that small space of
time and they could all be summarized in one sentence, one question: is he going to kiss me?
Colin had tilted his head and leaned close, his nose brushing mine, my breath mingling
with his, our eyes fluttering close and our lips merely inches apart. But I didn’t find out the
answer to that question because the basement door opened with a loud bang and Neil came in,
panting, to announce, “Sev, your parents are back.”
Colin and I jumped apart and, when I couldn’t get out of his embrace because of the rope,
only then did he realize that all he needed to do to release me was to lift his arms. Once there
was some distance between us and I wasn’t feeling as if I were inside a sauna, I noticed Neil
scrutinizing us disapprovingly.
Fortunately, for once, he didn’t say anything about whatever he’d just seen.
“Come on,” he said after a while, “your parents are going to be opening the garage
door”—he pointed at the metal gate before us—“any minute now. Nate and Nick are stalling
them as we speak.”
“What about Colin?” I asked, gesturing to the person in question without looking back at
him.
“We have no choice,” Neil said, reaching for a pair of scissors and using it to cut off the
ropes around Colin’s wrists, “we’ll have to say that he’s a visitor.”
I nodded and, as Colin rubbed his slightly red wrists, he cleared his throat. When I saw his
uncomfortable expression, I felt my heart sinking.
 Was he looking like that because of the near-kiss? The blood drained from my face when I
considered the possibility that it wasn’t him who shortened the distance, but me. Could it be
that I’d moved without knowing, that my mind had mixed up my imagination and reality?
Why did I always have to ruin everything?
“I just want to ask,” he said and then cocked an eyebrow at Neil, smirking, “what makes
you think I’m going to go along with this after what you guys have just done to me?”
Now there was the Colin Stillman I knew.
Seeing the normality of things, it was easier for me to speak to him, but I didn’t get the
chance. I was just opening my mouth to try and convince him to oblige, but Neil was ahead of
me.
With a knowing smile directed at Colin, he said, “I don’t think it’ll be a problem. From
what I saw just now, we don’t even have to force you.”
At that, Colin’s smile faded away and he knitted his eyebrows in confusion. I was pretty
confused myself, but we didn’t have time. Neil took me by the elbow and assisted me out of
the garage as fast as I could go. Colin had no choice but to follow us.
Just as the door swung shut behind us, I heard the sound of the garage door opening.
We darted towards the living room where the three of us plopped down on the cushions
and I quickly placed a pillow under my foot on the coffee table in front of me. Neil grabbed
the remote control and switched on the TV. Colin relaxed his position, crossing one leg over
the other, and turned to Neil, who’d expertly started to say, “You know, this is a really good
show. The theme song’s pretty nice too and—oh, there you are, Uncle Sean, Aunt Julie.
You’re back earlier than we expected.”
“That’s what Nate was just saying,” my mom said, looking at my eldest cousin weirdly as
she entered the basement door, “again and again, I might add.” Nate grinned guiltily at us
from behind her.
“Thanks for watching over Seven, guys,” my dad said, nodding at Nick, who nodded back
with a smile.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Dad, much less three,” I said, repeating my earlier dialogue and
rolling my eyes.
“Yes, but—” my dad suddenly stopped when he saw Colin, who’d straightened up the
moment my parents came in. He turned to me with a frozen smile. “Seven, who is this?”
“Um, Mom, Dad, this is Colin, my friend from school,” I said, gesturing to the boy who
nearly stole my first kiss, “Colin, these are my parents, Sean and Julie Warrilow.”
Colin immediately sprang up from his seat and extended his hand to my parents. I turned
to look at him and saw that he’d flashed his best smile at them. “Nice to meet you, Mr. and
Mrs. Warrilow,” he said.
“Oh,” my mom said, a little breathlessly as she stared at Colin. “Oh my, please call me
Julie. Mrs. Warrilow makes me sound so old.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Mrs. Warrilow,” Colin replied smoothly, “it doesn’t, but calling you by
your first name would certainly make me feel awkward.”
My mom took his hand and shook it. “Alright, then,” she said and then giggled.
I raised my eyebrows at my mom. I couldn’t believe she’d just giggled and at Colin, of all
people. But I knew my mom; she probably found Colin just as handsome as most girls—
including her own daughter—did.
My dad obviously wasn’t impressed by his charm though. He narrowed his eyes as he took
Colin’s hand and gripped it. I could see Colin’s smile faltering just a little bit at how tightly
my dad held his hand. But after a lengthy staring contest, my dad said, “It’s nice to meet you,
too. Your name’s Cody, am I right?”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “It’s Colin, sir.”
“Right, so, Cody,” my dad continued on as if Colin hadn’t said a thing and I rolled my
eyes, “what would be the reason as to why you’re currently in our living room?”
“Sean,” my mom hissed under her breath at my dad, lightly slapping him on the arm.
I opened my mouth to answer, “He—um, he just came to visit me, Dad. You don’t have to
act so gruff, you know.”
“I’m not, kiddo,” he said, his features softening as he patted my head and kissed me on the
forehead. He turned to Colin, who was looking so out of place, and was probably going to say
something else but my mom quickly cut him off.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Colin, how rude of us! Sit down, sit down and I’ll prepare some snacks
for you kids. What do you guys want?” my mom said in a rush, ushering Colin back to his
seat and hurrying to the kitchen.
Nate grinned at my mom and said, “We want some of your cookies, Aunt Julie.” He
almost sounded exactly the same as he did when we were still kids.
“Alright, let me just reheat the ones I already made. And I also made some milkshake last
night—would you like some, Colin?” she asked, beaming at Colin, who nodded meekly and
said, “Anything will be fine, Mrs. Warrilow.”
My dad, frowning at how little he could do against my mother, glumly crossed his arms
and sat down on the couch beside me.
Eight minutes of absolute awkward silence existed between the six of us. Nate was
watching a football game live on TV and whooping in excitement every now and then; Nick
had his nose stuffed inside one of the books I’d finished in the past few days while I was
cooped up in my room, and Neil was rubbing his chin in thought as he stared quizzically at
Colin, who in turn seemed to be fascinated with his own hands. My dad was also looking at
Colin with wariness; as for me, I looked at each of their faces and bit my lip nervously.
This lasted for eight agonizingly slow minutes—until my mom finally came back in with
our snacks.
She laid the tray out on the coffee table, and Nate and Neil’s hands immediately shot out to
grab one of the warm, crunchy-but-meltingly-soft-in-the-mouth cookies—but my mom was
faster and she slapped both of their hands away and as they whimpered like whipped puppies.
She told them sternly, “Where are your manners? We should let our guest eat first.” She then
turned to Colin and smiled at him lovingly. “Cookies?”
“Um, sure,” he said, his eyes darting anxiously at Nate and Neil who were both glaring
daggers at him as he took a cookie off the pile.
As my cousins helped themselves to the cookies, my mom sank down on the couch beside
Nick and elegantly crossed her legs. “You know, Colin,” she started, “I think it’s really sweet
that you made the effort to visit my daughter.”
Colin glanced at me from the corner of his eye before turning to my mom and replying,
“Oh, it’s no big deal, Mrs. Warrilow. I actually wasn’t planning on visiting Seven today but
before I knew it, in the next second, bam”—he clicked his fingers together as he spoke—“I
was already here.”
I choked on my cookie and coughed, reaching out for my glass of milkshake. I hurriedly
took several gulps and cleared my throat.
My cousins noticeably paused in their ravenous eating but quickly resumed, so as to not
look obvious to my parents.
 “But still,” my mom insisted, “we really appreciate it. Don’t we, dear?” My dad didn’t say
yes or no, he just grunted.
“So, are you Seven’s classmate? She never really talks about her friends from school that
much,” my mom said. “It’s always been about books, books, books.” I shot her a sharp look
and noticed Nick glance up briefly from the book he was reading.
Colin chuckled softly and responded, “No, I’m a year older than Seven, but we have a few
classes together.”
My dad suddenly spoke up, “So, Cody—”
“It’s Colin, sir.”
“Same difference,” he said dismissively. “Are you involved in any kind of groups?”
Colin looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know, gangs, occults, illegal societies—”
Mom said, “Sean!” at the same time I said, “Dad!”
“What?” my dad asked defensively. “It’s a valid question.”
To his clear surprise, though, Colin looked worried and answered, “I guess it’s time that I
come out with the truth.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and slowly turned to Colin, hoping that they’d
heard wrong. My mom laughed nervously and asked, “What do you mean?”
He closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his eyelids and sighing, as if the
situation was so hard on him. “The truth is…I am part of a, you could say, group but it’s not
the kind that you’re all thinking of.”
At this we were all leaned in close to him to hear more.
“I…I belong to an organization,” he said and let go of his breath as if a great weight had
been taken off him. “It’s…” He shook his head and said, “Sorry, I—just forget I said
anything.”
“What is it, man?” Nate asked impatiently, curiosity winning him over.
Colin looked pained as he laced his fingers together in front of him. “You guys wouldn’t
believe me.”
“You’ll never know unless you try,” I said, dropping my foot to the floor so I could get
close and listen.
He released a deep sigh and said, “Alright. I suppose it’s too late now.” All of us held our
breaths in anticipation. “I…belong to an organization that was made to fight against aliens
and other extraterrestrial beings.”
For a second we just stared at Colin with shock mixed with confusion and incredulity. And
then Neil voiced out the word we were all thinking: “Huh?”
By then Colin couldn’t hold it in anymore. He suddenly laughed, his smile almost as bright
as the sunlight streaming into the room through the window. “I’m just kidding!” he admitted.
Did I forget to mention that he was notorious for never taking anything seriously?
At that moment, I was torn between wanting to smack him upside the head or laughing at
how easily we were fooled by his great acting.
I chose the former.
I grabbed the pillow on the coffee table and hit him several times with it. “Ugh! You’re
crazy!” I said, “I actually believed you for a second there!” But despite my words, I had a
smile plastered on my face.
He shielded himself with his arms and laughed. Neil, who was beside him, took hold of his
arms and said, “Here, Sev! I’ll hold him and you attack! Go!”
 As I continued my attempt at murder with a couch pillow, Colin shouted, “No! Have
mercy!” Everyone else was laughing at the scene in front of them—even my dad—until I
stopped because my ankle was complaining. I fixed myself back in a comfortable position as
Colin did the same.
“But pushing all jokes aside,” he said, as if he wasn’t the one who started it, “I’m not part
of any groups, Mr. Warrilow, never been, never will.”
I turned to look at my dad’s reaction and was surprised to find him eyeing me carefully.
There was something about his look that made me feel as if he could see right through me. I
wondered if this was how the criminals he faced almost every day at court felt like whenever
he’d look at them.
My dad shifted his gaze to Colin and cracked a smile. “I see,” was all he said.
From there, the topic ranged from school to what Colin planned on taking in college and
somehow to horror stories until it became a debate between who was the best of the best in
the Avengers.
“It’s definitely Thor,” I said, contradicting Neil, who said it was Iron Man. “Iron Man’s
nothing without his suit!”
“The guy’s got brains, Seven,” Nate countered, siding with his youngest brother. “Do you
think Thor could build a suit that can fly, shoot rockets, and is bulletproof with scarce
resources and limited time? I don’t think so.”
“But Thor’s a god! He doesn’t need to build a suit!”
“I think Captain America’s stunning,” my mom commented.
My dad sent her a look I knew all too well. “No, he’s not,” he said. “All he has for power
is a shield.”
“If his opponent is a woman, that wouldn’t be the only power he has over her.”
“Well, most of the time, it isn’t.”
“I said if.”
Right on time, Nate glanced over at the clock and started to get up. “Well,” he started
loudly, catching everyone’s attention, “it was nice meeting you, Colin, but I think we need to
go back home for lunch.” He gestured to his brothers, who nodded in agreement.
As they pushed themselves off the couch, Nick said, “Goodbye, Uncle Sean, Aunt Julie.
Thanks for having us.”
“Our pleasure,” my mom said, smiling. “And thank you for taking care of Seven this
morning. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
The three of them shared a knowing look. “Nah,” they all said together, contrary to the
way they mischievously grinned at my mom. She didn’t seem to notice, thankfully.
I watched them get up, expecting them to head to the door and leave, but Neil walked right
in front of Colin and said, “Why don’t you help Seven up to her room so that her parents
won’t have to escort her themselves?”
My dad, of course, automatically opened his mouth to speak, “Actually I—”
“Uncle,” Neil said quickly, wrapping a firm arm around my dad’s shoulders and steering
him away from Colin and me, “I heard that you’ve been really busy at work—lawyer stuff
and all. Is it really that hard?”
“Well, no…it depends…” my dad said, his words coming slowly as he looked over his
shoulder and tried to keep an eye on me but Neil kept taking his attention away. With a wave
from Nate and Nick, they left the living room.
“Is it really alright for me to help her up?” Colin asked my mom.
 I was about to protest when my mom cut me off and said, “Why, of course you can! It
would really be a big help since I have to prepare lunch. Do you want to stay here and eat
with us?”
Colin shook his head politely. “Thank you, but my family is probably expecting me to be
home for lunch.”
“That’s fine. Maybe next time then?” my mom insisted and I felt like I wanted to crawl
into a hole and die. Colin only chuckled and replied, “We’ll see, maybe sometime when I’m
not fighting our enemies from outer space.”
My mom giggled—again—and said, “Oh, Colin, you’re so silly.”
The next thing I knew I had my arm over his shoulder, his arm around my waist, and he’s
helping me up the staircase. When we took a sharp turn and walked together down the
hallway I saw from the corner of my eye, my mom, peeking curiously up at us from the
bottom of the stairs and smiling to herself. Ugh.
“Your mom’s cookies are awesome,” Colin commented the moment we were out of
anyone’s earshot.
“Tell her that and she’ll send you basketfuls of them,” I deadpanned.
Colin chuckled softly and said, “You know, I like your family, Seven. They’re fun.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just said, “I guess they’re cool.”
We reached my bedroom door and my stomach started making gymnastic award-winning
flips when he took the knob in his hands and turned it.
My mind raced as I tried to recall if I had cleaned up my room—or whether there were any
left undergarments left hanging on the furniture or scattered on the floor—and did it smell
bad? Was there anything too personal displayed out in the open?
But I didn’t have the time to clean up and the door was already swinging open. My eyes
quickly darted around the room, trying to see if there was anything even remotely weird that
should be tagged with a sticker saying “NOT FOR COLIN’S EYES TO SEE” but,
fortunately, there was none.
Colin didn’t look up at my room; he immediately brought me to my bed and gently let me
sit down on its soft cushions and crumpled blankets.
He straightened up and only then did he cast a curious glance around. His gaze lingered on
my bookshelf and continued on until it finally arrived at the tall pile of books beside my bed
I’d just finished reading.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you died from getting crushed by the number of your books
you’ve got in here someday,” he commented with a smile.
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Your room’s no better. Your walls are full of sketches and
drawings.”
“It’s called art,” he said defensively and then looked behind him to see if there was anyone
lurking outside my bedroom door. He turned back to me and noticeably lowered his voice.
“Anyway, you do know that you’re pushing yourself too much just for this stupid notebook,
right?”
“No, I’m not,” I denied quietly and Colin snorted incredulously. “You have a sprained
ankle! No wonder you weren’t in school for the past two days.”
“What do you care?” I asked coldly, the question unwillingly bringing tears to my eyes. It
was the inevitable truth, I always told myself. Colin Stillman would never look at me the way
I looked at him. I quickly blinked them away. “Please, Colin, just give me back my
notebook.”
“No can do, Seven,” he said, grinning widely at me.
 I tightened my hands into trembling fists. I couldn’t hope to understand this boy, even if I
tried. One moment he’d seem caring and thoughtful, and in the next he’d be the naughty boy
who seemed as if he still hadn’t grown out of his childhood.
I scowled at him in reply and he laughed. I saw his right hand move up towards me and I
raised my head to see what he was going to do. I was about to warn him, “Don’t you dare do
whatever you’re about to do,” but what he did next surprised me to the point of
speechlessness.
He gently held the side of my head and kissed me on the forehead.
I sat there, frozen, whatever thoughts I had were completely obliterated in that second.
I was very tempted to pinch myself just to be sure it wasn’t a dream, but the moment felt
so delicate that, if I so much as moved, it could all disappear.
Sadly, just as abruptly and unexpectedly as he leaned towards me, he pulled back, those
emerald green eyes widening in shock as if he had no idea what he’d just done. He retracted
his hand, taking its warmth away from me as well, and kept a slight distance from me.
“Uh,” he started, his voice cracking as he looked frantically around my room as if
something in there could help him out of this awkward situation he’d gotten himself into, “I,
um…” He swallowed and stabbed the air above his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ve got to go
now, so…bye, then.”
Without even waiting for me to respond, he turned on his heel and walked out of my room.
I didn’t bother following him. I was afraid that if I tried to stand up my knees would give
out and I’d collapse pathetically to the floor. I took a deep breath, butterflies crashing against
each other and ricocheting off the walls of my stomach.
I could hear voices below but couldn’t comprehend the words being said. I shakily twisted
around to look through my bedroom window. After a minute or so, I heard the front door
close with a bang and then Colin came into view, his walk brisk and stiff, quickening as he
stepped around the crack in the cement.
He kissed me just now, didn’t he? I wasn’t dreaming? My hand reached up to touch the
spot where his lips had brushed against my forehead.
I shivered, but it most definitely was not from the cold. But, why did he do that? He
definitely didn’t have to. Does that mean…
I watched attentively as he started running at top speed, heading out of my neighborhood
and getting farther and farther away.
 Entry 7: Plan F – Text Attack

Date: March 19, 2013

Three days later, around six o'clock in the evening, I was curled up in one of the soft plush
couches at The Book Station, the bookstore that was just around the corner of my
neighborhood, where I usually bought my books. I was reading one then when someone
called my name.
I tore my gaze from the part I was reading and looked up at a man in his late thirties with
blond hair and light blue eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses. Patrick.
"What is it?" I asked, yawning and wiping my tired eyes.
Patrick chuckled and bent down so that his face was on the same level as mine. "Your
mom called, that's what. She's asking if you're planning on coming home at all."
I'd known Patrick for almost my entire life. He’d known my mom since birth, and despite
the fact we weren't related by blood, Patrick had attended all my spelling contests and talent
shows at school, and always ate with my family during Thanksgiving as if he were a real part
of it.
I had always looked up to Patrick, even if he wasn’t able to finish college because he
dropped out in the middle of it. When I had asked for an elaboration, my mom explained that
he had taken a doctorate’s degree in college but quit midway.
At first I was shocked, but when I heard the full story, I finally understood. I mean, I
didn’t think I could handle attending classes of a subject I had no interest in and that was
shoved down my throat by my parents who were pressuring me every single day and
complaining about what a failure I was for wanting to become something they didn’t approve,
either.
Patrick, however, was able to survive through all that until the first half of his second
semester in the third year of college—before he finally made the decision of pursuing his
dreams of writing.
His parents went ballistic, of course, and kicked him out of the house.
He had stayed at my mom’s house after that—since my grandparents knew Patrick and
were good friends with his parents—and had started looking for small jobs at local stores and
coffee shops, trying to earn money for the business he was thinking of, while passionately
writing stories at the sidelines and selling them over the Internet.
When one of his books was finally discovered and officially released to the public, he
made enough money to open a bookstore and publishing house. That place was a dark brick
building with a red tiled roof and a sign that read: The Book Station: it takes you wherever
you want to go.
And that very bookstore was where I’d spent the past three days, lounging among the
mismatched throw pillows, reading book after book under the soft yellow light of a lamp. My
mom had finally allowed me to go back to school, but only on the condition that I wouldn’t
do anything that would the stress my ankle, which, if you translated that to my language,
meant I couldn’t go on with my plans of recovering my black notebook from Colin.
This contributed to the massive amount of free time I had, which I killed by means of
reading.
The Book Station had always been like a second home to me, especially since my mom
allowed me to go there whenever I wanted, considering the fact that her most trusted-slash-
childhood friend was the one handling the place.
There were several encounters over the last few Christmases when I had asked Patrick if
he felt as if he had wasted his skills and the opportunities presented before him by casting it
all away and becoming a writer.
He had answered with a dimpled smile, “Honestly, no. Most people would think of my
decision as foolish and rash, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’m happy where I am
now, and even if my books don’t always sell and I don’t have a steady supply of money, I’m
content with doing what I love.”
I’d asked him if his parents ever made contact with him again, but he would just go quiet
and my mom would shush me.
Right then I glanced at my watch and caught sight of the time. “Uh-oh.” I grimaced and
quickly got up to my feet, stuffing my book into my bag and draping it over my shoulder.
“I’ve got to go, Patrick. Tell Mom I’m on my way home.”
Patrick laughed and ruffled my hair. “Alright, pup, but hold up. I’m giving you a ride.”
“You don’t have to, really,” I said, but Patrick insisted and told me to wait for him at the
entrance and that he would bring the car around.
Sighing, I nodded and watched him leave. Mindful of my sprain, I carefully walked down
the steps of the carpeted wooden stairs where two to three people were huddled at the corners,
their heads leaning on the wall as they got deeper and deeper into the story they were reading.
I knew some of the usual people who came to The Book Station, and yes, you better
believe it, they told me their secrets too. Fortunately, they were readers just like me, and they
understood the feeling of being in the story and not wanting to be disturbed, so I’d been able
to safely escape from them whenever I was holding a book.
Once I was on the main floor, I passed by Alfred who, despite being as old as ever, was
still a perfectionist at heart as he arranged the books on the shelves alphabetically by author. I
gave him a gentle pat on the back, which he responded to with a slow turn and smile in my
direction.
Before I left The Book Station, I waved my farewell to the cashier girl, Francesca, who
flashed me a bedazzling smile and waved back over the shoulder of a customer. Francesca
had only been working with “the crew" (as Danny, another one of the odd-but-loyal
employees called them) for three months, but I already liked her just as much as the others.
She was a lively brown-haired beauty of Latin descent. And whenever I stayed really late at
with her and Patrick I’d always nudge him in the ribs and whisper, “Why don’t you make a
move? I think you guys look good together.” Patrick would only blush, apologize to
Francesca, and shoo me away.
I took my time walking towards the entrance and waited there, averting my gaze from the
people who came in and out of the door.
 My ankle wasn’t fully healed yet, and though it’d been almost a week since it got sprained
and didn’t hurt anymore, it still felt as if it was as sensitive as a twig, ready to snap at any
moment.
After a minute or so, Patrick’s car parked in front of The Book Station and the passenger
door swung open. Patrick was leaning across from the driver’s seat, the seatbelt holding him
back from going any further.
“Come on,” he said.
I shuffled towards the car. It took a while before I was safely inside the car and we were
on our way.
“I heard you’re done with all the books you bought last week,” he said without looking at
me. “That’s quite an amount.”
“Not all,” I said, sighing, remembering how Nick had quickly finished seven books in one
day, “but I’m almost done.”
“It’s a wonder you can still keep your grades up with all the reading you’re doing.”
“Says the guy who dropped out of college and started a bookstore,” I murmured and
Patrick laughed. “Hey now, don’t go following my footsteps. You have a whole future ahead
of you. Don’t waste it until you’re sure you want the consequences.”
We soon arrived at my neighborhood and then we were right in front of my house. My
mom must’ve heard the engine of the car because she stepped out of the house, wiping her
hands with a rag, and smiled at Patrick and me.
“Hi, dear,” she said as I exited the vehicle and made my way around it. Then she bent
down to look at Patrick through the car window. “Thanks for watching over her, Pat.”
“Anytime, Jul,” he replied, putting the car into motion. He waved at me. “See you,
Seven.”
“Bye,” I said, waving back as Patrick drove away, turning around a corner and
disappearing.
“What took you so long at the bookstore?” my mom asked as we turned on our heels and
headed inside.
I shrugged, saying, “I got too into the story, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said and then added with a smile, “you know, for a minute there, before I
called Patrick to check if you were at the bookstore, I was thinking you were with someone.”
I cocked my head to the side, trying to see what she was hinting at, and echoed her,
“Someone…?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said when obviously she did, “someone like…Colin, maybe.”
At the mention of him, my senses became clearer and I became more attentive. I
distinctively remembered the absolutely unnecessary but undoubtedly welcome kiss on the
forehead that made my hopes rocket to the sky last Saturday.
However, those said hopes went crashing back down to the earth on Monday, when my
mom had finally allowed me to go back to school to get some exercise on my ankle, and
Colin had taunted me by holding the black notebook within my reach and snatching it away,
jogging so that I wouldn’t be able to catch him with my sprain.
I frowned at her, a part of me fearing where this was leading. “Why would I be with Colin
of all people?”
I couldn’t help the bitterness in my tone and mom must’ve caught a whiff of it because
she said, “Well, I thought you liked him.”
 I tried not to make it obvious that she had hit a bullseye, and made a face. “And what
made you think that I would like someone like him?”
Mom smiled knowingly at me and said, “I recognized the way you looked at him. I looked
at your father the same way before and I still do. I can’t blame you though—the boy is
charming and sweet.”
“No, he’s not,” I said, scowling at the memory of all the times he wouldn’t return what
was mine. “He’s mean.”
Now it was my mom’s turn to frown. “How can you say that, Seven?” she argued. “If he
was mean he wouldn’t have visited you last Saturday. You should be more grateful.”
You just have no idea, Mom, I thought to myself while shaking my head at her. “Okay,
well, let’s just agree to disagree because I’ve got homework to do.”
My mom sighed and shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she walked
towards the kitchen, and I slowly climbed the stairs. Once I was in my bedroom, I dropped
my bag on the floor beside my desk and started on my work.
In the middle of solving a math problem and writing a critical analysis of a short story we
were asked to read, my phone kept rattling against my desk with every message I received.
This time, I replied to each and every one of them, although a bit tiredly and with my
responses slowly decreasing in the amount of emojis I used until there were none at all and
my words were barely understandable from all the shortcuts I made.
Even when I was finished with my work and I was sitting on my bed, my foot propped on
a pillow, the texts kept coming.
Seven, I’m in a major situation. Txt as soon as u can.
He replied!!! What do I say???
Do u know how to answer the math assignment?
Ur advice worked!! Thanks a million :)
I didn’t bother picking my book up because, surely enough, before I could even finish one
sentence, another text would pop up again.
I groaned irritably as my phone vibrated on the cushions beside me for the umpteenth
time, interrupting my reading before I even got five words in. I grabbed it and nearly drilled a
hole through it when I murderously tapped the screen.
Do u think Colin’s mad at me? :( He’s not replying to any of my txts…
I paused as I reread the message and checked the sender. It was one of the girls in Colin’s
circle of friends who had a crush on him, Alana. She had probably abused her texting rights
again. I felt bad for Alana, but I did pity Colin too. I definitely knew what it felt like to be
annoyed with several people texting you over and over again…
And then I got an idea for plan F.
I may not be able to run after him anymore or sneak around trying to take my notebook
back, but I can annoy him.
I quickly typed: Don’t txt him for now. Let it be. Maybe he’s busy. But just as I sent
the message to the girl, I did the contrary: I searched for Colin’s name in my contact book and
texted him: Hello, Colin Stillman. Boo.
I had long before used my resources to dig up his cell number, but I never dared myself to
text him. Sure, there were times when I attempted to compose a text and send it to him, but I
would always squeal in panic and erase the message before I could send it accidentally and
die in shame.
 My stomach was twisting itself into knots as I waited in anticipation for his reply. Would
he know it was me? Did that mean he had my number all this time too? What would he say?
Would he think that I was one of those girls who kept texting him, trying to catch his
attention?
Each time my phone buzzed, I jumped and quickly snatch it to see if it was him, but it was
always someone else.
After a while, another buzz came and I checked my phone, my heart nearly jumping out of
my chest when I saw his name on my screen. I swallowed nervously as I pressed the OPEN
button.
He had replied: Rick, if this is you, then how dare you steal my prank text ideas! But
if it’s not, then who’s this?
I laughed softly at the way he responded, so much like how he talked in real life, and I
could almost imagine his voice saying the words. I noted that he wasn’t the type to use
shortcuts when texting.
I simply typed: 7
Three minutes later, a little quicker than his earlier reply, he said: Oh hey! :) I see you’ve
taken another level of stalking.
For a moment I smiled at how warmly he greeted me when he knew it was me texting
him, but that smile quickly turned upside down when I saw his last sentence. Scowling at my
phone, I replied: Give me back my notebook, Colin. I’m serious.
I pressed send. My phone beeped.
And you think I’m not?

Well, okay, I’m not. Haha.

I gritted my teeth and furiously texted: Give it back.
No.
PLEASE give it back.
No.
Please.
No.
Come on!
No ;)
I screamed in frustration. Give it back! Not waiting for his reply, I resent him the same
message again—and again and again and again and again.
But he said No again—and again and again and again and again. His last one, though,
contained a question: How did you get my number anyway?
This was the question I had been dreading. Trying to sound as if I had everything in
control, I replied: I have my resources. Now give it back.
That sounds kind of cool but no. Sorry, stalker.
GIVE IT COLIN! And I’m not a stalker!
No.
I was so tempted to text him the same message again, when my phone suddenly
vibrated—a little longer this time—and my screen flashed with the words:
INCOMING CALL
 COLIN
My thumb hovered over the green ANSWER button. And for some reason, my heart
started racing and I suddenly became conscious of myself. This was going to be my first call
conversation with Colin. I remembered the daydreams I had of him suddenly calling me out
of nowhere, just wanting to chat and—
I quickly shook my head, trying to shake those thoughts away. “Keep your cool,” I
whispered to myself. “He’s not the guy you thought you liked. He’s a jerk. He’s a jerk. He
won’t give back your notebook. You’re supposed to be mad at him.” I let out a deep breath
before answering the call.
“Hello?” I asked quietly.
“Hi there.” I couldn’t believe it—even his voice sounded amazing and the static made it a
little husky. I blushed involuntarily and tried to sound irritated as I said, “Why are you calling
me?”
“No reason. I just wanted to hear what you sound like through the phone.”
For a moment, I choked on my own words. “Whatever,” I finally spat out, and wondered
how it was possible for someone who wasn’t even in the same room with you to make you
blush even more than you already were.
“And I’ve made an analysis that you sound different,” he continued, “…a little less
squeaky.” On second thought, I suddenly remembered why I was supposed to be mad at him.
“Anyway, I’m bored too, so yeah.”
Through the phone, I could hear the sound of papers being flipped and something
scratching. “What are you doing?” I asked curiously.
“Sketching, why?”
“It’s nothing. I can hear the paper,” I told him as I reached towards my ankle and gingerly
touched it. Wincing at the sudden but tiny pain I felt there, I asked, “What are you
sketching?”
“A bridge,” he answered.
“Isn’t that kind of hard?”
“Yeah, it is, but I can manage.”
“You must be pretty good at drawing.”
“I don’t know…I’m not trying to be humble or anything, okay? But thanks. By the way,
how’s your ankle?”
“It’s still an ankle,” I replied sarcastically.
“You’re so hilarious, Seven. Seriously, I think I’m going to die from laughter.”
“Oh shut up.”
“But seriously—and this is coming from me—are you okay?”
I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling all warm and fuzzy. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said.
“Wow, we just achieved a normal conversation. Way to go for us, huh, Seven?”
“Give me back my notebook.”
“Aaand…you ruined it. Nice going there.”
“Look, Colin, I’m not your source of entertainment, okay? That notebook is really
important to me and I need it back.”
“Now you’re making me wonder what’s inside…” I heard more shuffling papers and my
blood ran cold in fear. “Colin!” I practically screamed at the speaker.
“Ouch! You don’t have to scream at my ear, you know!” I heard him mutter.
 “Give it back already! I mean it!”
Colin sighed. “You know, I actually thought you were done chasing after me.”
I paused for a while and then asked, “What made you think that?”
“I can’t tell you. If I did, I’d have to kill you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That is so cliché. You know you sound like those bad boys in romance
novels, right?”
“What?”
“You know, the guy that is always flirting with the protagonist, who in turn is actually
already drooling over the bad boy’s sexiness but is still trying to deny it.”
Colin chuckled and said, “So, in this situation you’re the protagonist who’s drooling over
my sexiness and is still trying to deny it?”
“N-No, I was just saying—” I started stuttering, and then I heard his booming laughter.
“Ugh! J-Just give me back my notebook!”
“No.”
“Colin, I am so going to—”
The line went dead. I pulled my phone away from my ear and glared at the screen that
said: CALL ENDED.
“I can’t believe it! He hung up on me!” I exclaimed and then angrily threw the phone at
my bed, letting it bounce off and land at the edge.
I crossed my arms and looked away, fuming. Not a minute after, I heard the familiar
vibration of my phone against the bed. I glanced over at it and saw that I had a new message. I
tentatively reached for it, hoping that it was Colin wanting to apologize and promising he
would give it back already. I took the phone in my hand and opened the message.
See you tomorrow, 7.
Despite the red blush across my cheeks and the stirring of my butterflies, I threw my
phone at the bed again.
 Entry 8: What If?

Date: March 22, 2013

“Colin!” I screamed as I ran down the hall as fast as I could, the people around us
transforming into unrecognizable blobs in the background.
Someone slammed into me—or perhaps the right way of saying it was that I slammed into
someone—and they went sprawling to the ground, dropping their things. “Sorry!” I called
back as I jumped over their fallen belongings and continued sprinting as if my life depended
on it.
The way my leg muscles were already complaining was enough proof to me that I needed
more exercise. Although I’d been running faster than I ever thought I could in the past few
days of chasing after the red-haired jerk who was, right then, just a few feet away from me, I
still wasn’t used to the rigorous workout.
“Come on, Seven!” Colin shouted, not sounding out of breath—at all. “Keep up!”
“I didn’t even agree to it yet!” I said, not even caring about the fact that the
aforementioned unrecognizable blobs were turning their heads towards us and whispering and
giggling behind their hands.
You see, I’d been doing my best annoying him through constant text messages since last
Tuesday, and just a minute ago, after calculus class, it seemed that my annoyance had finally
paid off when Colin offered a proposition: “If you can beat me to the cafeteria line, I’ll give
you back the notebook.”
“Wait, what—”
I hadn’t even finished my sentence when he took off running, choking me in the dust he
left at his wake. It wasn’t as if he literally left dust, but it did take me a while before I caught
on to what he said and sped after him—which led to the predicament I was in right at that
moment.
Colin weaved in between a group of friends slowly making their way to the cafeteria and I
had to skid to a halt and circle around them. “But you’re already running anyway!” he said.
“So don’t stop now!”
I pumped my arms harder and tried to extend my leg reach. I was almost there. Colin was
right in front of me. I could just reach him with the tips of my fingertips. We entered through
the double doors of the cafeteria with a loud bang, but the hundreds of mouths talking all at
once drowned the sound out. My hand reached out and held on tightly to the sleeve of his
white sport shirt.
Colin suddenly stopped. As I panted and reminded my lungs that a few minutes of
breathlessness didn’t mean they could quit their job, I wondered hopefully if victory was
mine.
It took some effort to raise my head, what with the pounding of blood in my ears and the
bright flashes of light at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away and finally saw Colin
grinning down at me.
 How was it that someone you’re supposed to hate after all the trouble they put you through
could still make your heart race—faster than the rate it was already going at—and make you
forget everything else but them?
“Too bad, Seven,” he said. “You almost won, you know.”
At first I stared at him confused, and then I turned my attention to the floor, where Colin’s
sneaker was stepping on the spot just behind the last guy at the cafeteria line. I immediately
let go of his sleeve and said, “That’s not fair! You had a head start!”
“No, I didn’t,” he dared deny it, “I gave you a second or two to digest it and react, but you
obviously took your time, Seven. Not my problem.”
I groaned angrily and said, “Stop playing with me already and give me back my
notebook!” I shoved his arm and relished the hard muscle I felt there. He laughed, not
noticing how his lean bicep was affecting me.
He was about to say something in reply, but then he paused and smiled at someone behind
me. “Hey, Maria,” he said, looking over my shoulder.
I looked back to see a pretty blonde girl wearing a puffy peach blouse, gray skinny jeans,
and black flats with little ribbons on them. I recognized her as one of the girls in Colin’s circle
of friends. She was also one of the few people who didn’t come to me for their secrets but
knew me from the classes we had together.
Maria smiled back, all dimples and nice cheekbones. I suddenly felt conscious of all the
baby fat I had on my face.
“Hi, Colin,” she said, her voice so delicate and feminine that I almost—almost—stared at
her in awe.
“Did you hear about Alana’s party tonight?” he asked.
She nodded and said, “Are you going?”
“It’s a party,” he snorted, his tone implying that the answer was obvious enough.
For a second there I thought she would just continue batting her eyelashes at Colin without
acknowledging my presence, but then she turned to me and said, “You know, you’re invited
too, Seven.”
My eyes widened in surprise as I asked, “Really?”
“Totally,” she said. “Especially after you…you know, helped her with a little problem.”
She glanced over briefly at Colin and then winked at me. My mouth transformed into the
shape of a letter O. Right. Alana was the girl who kept texting Colin endlessly. If I hadn’t told
her to stop, maybe he eventually would have. That would be humiliating enough.
Colin frowned. “I still don’t get what problem she’s going through. She won’t tell me.”
It seemed that luckily, Colin hadn’t seen that secret in the black notebook—yet. A green-
eyed monster in me wanted him to, though, so that I’d have one less rival in the process. I
knew it was wrong to think that way, especially since I had nothing to be jealous about
because I. Was. Not. His. Girlfriend, as I repeatedly reminded myself.
I cut a glance towards Maria and noticed the way she was checking him out from the top of
his messy red hair to the toe of his sneakers. It looked like there was another girl who was
planning to join the Colin Stillman fan club.
I quickly stepped forward, blocking her view, and smiled as innocently as I could manage.
“So, what time did you say the party was going to be?”
She blinked in surprise but quickly fixed her composure to say, “Around eight, maybe? It’s
after dinner, for sure.” She probably sensed that she wouldn’t be able to make any real
conversation with Colin with me around, so she said, “Well, I’d better head to Alana and the
others. See you two later at the party!”
 With a wave, she turned on her heel and walked towards one of the tables, her hips
swaying elegantly. I whirled around and caught Colin staring at her strut away. My heart
sank.
Colin glanced at me and smiled. “Hmm…I’m not sure if this is the first time I’d ever see
you at a party, Seven.”
“It is,” I said, wincing at the sudden lack of energy in my voice. “But I don’t plan on going
anyway.”
I’d been invited to parties before, parties that I knew Colin would be going to, but the little
coward in me was too scared to see her crush go with another girl. I’d always thought that
there wouldn’t be any point, especially since we hadn’t spoken to each other yet back then.
However, for the party tonight, I could picture it in my head already: Colin would be
sitting with his friends, I would find someone to keep me company, and then Maria or Alana
or maybe both of them would linger around Colin like sly cats waiting to attack.
“Hey, don’t be such a killjoy,” he said, poking my forehead with his index finger. I glared
at him as I swatted his hand away. “Come on, get your nose out of those books you’re always
reading and have some fun.”
“You sound just like my mom,” I commented, stepping forward in the line.
He grinned and said, “I was right to think that she’s a very intelligent woman, then. Now,
come on!”
I looked up at Colin. His emerald-green eyes stared intently into my dark ones, so open
and piercing that I felt like they could swallow me up alive. I glanced away. I supposed it
wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, he was asking me to come to the party, as if he wanted me
there.
After some reluctance, I sighed and said, “We’ll see.”

***

Eight hours later, my mom couldn’t wait to get me out of the house.
“Finally!” my mom chirped as she placed the last of the dirty dishes into the sink. “You’re
going to a party! How long has it been since you’ve been to one, anyway?”
“Too long for me to care,” I murmured, my eyes not leaving the novel I was reading. It
was already eight o’clock and I hadn’t even changed out of my home clothes yet.
“What time are you supposed to be there?”
“Mm…eight, I think.” I was having a hard time listening to what my mom was saying and
while reading a certain part: She wanted to lose herself in him. To tie his arms around her like
a tourniquet. If she showed him how much she needed him, he’d run away—
“Eight! You should be getting ready as we speak!” she scolded me when I didn’t make any
move to get up. My mom had always been a punctual person. And although it wasn’t a bad
trait, it was kind of annoying when I got tangled up along with it.
“Maybe later…”
“Seven!”
“Alright, alright,” I said irritably, closing Eleanor & Park with two fingers and jumping
off the couch. I headed upstairs, entered my bedroom, and quickly scanned through my
wardrobe. I hadn’t shopped in a while, but even though none of the clothes I had right then
were that hideous, I still felt like it wasn’t enough for the party I imagined in my head.
 There would certainly be dancing, so I wouldn’t want anything uncomfortable. There
would be people I knew and didn’t know, so I wouldn’t want anything revealing. There would
be…well, Colin, so I wouldn’t want anything plain.
I thought back to Maria and the puffy peach blouse she’d been wearing and how Colin
seemed to appreciate how it looked on her. Or maybe he was just appreciating the way she
swung her butt.
I stood on my tiptoes and reached up to take the hanger of a dress that caught my eye. It
was a preppy sleeveless bowknot dress, the color of old rose.
Now that I thought about it, Colin had never seen me in a dress.
I kicked the cabinet door shut and bent down to grab my black Keds. After quickly
slipping into the clothes, spraying just a hint of powdery perfume and applying lip-gloss, I
was ready. I ran my fingers through my hair and gathered it into a bun. I looked at my
reflection in the mirror one last time before taking my phone, which had beeped with a
message from Tracy, who’d promised me a ride to the party.
Outside, I heard the sound of a car horn. I hurried out of the room and down the stairs.
“Mom, I’m leaving,” I informed her once I’d hopped off the last step.
My mom walked out of the kitchen, wiping a plate with a dishtowel. She leaned towards
me and kissed me on the crown of my head. “Alright, take care. Be back by eleven.”
Once I’d slammed the front door shut, I locked it and hurried to Tracy’s red Toyota. I
swung the passenger door open and slipped in. Piano keys were playing, resonating from her
speakers. “Hey, Trace,” I greeted her with a smile.
“—boy can I tell you a terrible thing? It seems that I’m sick and I’ve only got weeks,”
Tracy serenaded in a way of greeting me, her face crumpling as she sang. “Please don’t be sad
now, I really believe…you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me…”
An electric guitar joined the party, making me tap my foot on the car floor. As Tracy put
her car into motion, slowly making its way out of my neighborhood, we both took deep
breaths and sang along: “Slow…so slow…I fell to the ground…on my knees…so don’t fall in
love there’s just too much to lose…if you’re given the choice, I’m begging you choose…to
walk away, walk away, don’t let it get you…I don’t want to see the same happen to
you…now, son, I’m only telling you this because life…can do terrible things…”
Although Tracy was part of the glee club and way better than me in singing, I couldn’t say
that I was all that bad. If I were, Tracy would’ve probably already thrown me out of her car.
Tracy and I weren’t that close of friends, but we did have a similar liking of most of
Mayday Parade’s songs. We shared laughs in between singing to their songs, the graceful
blending of instruments filling the small vehicle all throughout the entire ride—up to the point
when we were right in front of Alana’s house and couldn’t even hear ourselves think due to
the loudness of the club song playing through her large speakers, which were propped on the
ledges outside.
We both stepped out of her car and I immediately craned my neck to look around. I spotted
Colin’s pale blue pickup a few cars away and adrenaline flooded through me, just as it always
did at the thought of seeing him.
My wristwatch stated that it was only eight-thirty, and yet there were already several
wasted people sprawled out on Alana’s lawn, singing drunkenly along to the song playing,
although I couldn’t comprehend the lyrics they were shouting at the top of their voices.
Alana was standing at the front door, and she welcomed us warmly with a bottle of beer in
one hand. I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose at the sight of it. To say that I wasn’t much of
a drinker was an understatement. I hated the thought of getting drunk. Sure, curiosity prodded
me here and there at times, but I refused to try it.
 Tracy promised to meet up later by her car, and then we went our separate ways.
Inside, some were getting their mad on in the open space they’d cleared out for dancing,
while others simply lingered at the sides talking. I waved at the people I knew there, and
before I knew it, someone approached me and took me away to an isolated corner.
It was Samantha, a senior from my AP Philosophy, and I was so used to her frowns and
longing sighs that I almost didn’t recognize her when she came to me, giddy and laughing. I
was proud to say that I remembered her being the one who’d had a cheating boyfriend and
who didn’t seem to want to move on.
“Seven, I have fantabulous news,” she gushed, cheeks all pink and soft.
“What, are you finally over your jerk of an ex-boyfriend?” I asked, smiling, and she
nodded.
“But not only that!” she quickly added. She leaned in and whispered, “I think I’m in love.”
Oh, dear. I did my best to look happy for her and asked, “With whom?”
“Well…you might think of this as ridiculous,” she started reluctantly, tucking a lost strand
of blonde hair behind her ear, “but…do you remember Spaghetti Clown?”
To refresh some of your memories, Spaghetti Clown was the guy in the black sweatshirt
that ended up tripping and falling face-first into his plate of spaghetti after a failed attempt at
retrieving what was truly his from the bag of Colin Stillman. In other words: me.
I tried not to show my discomfort as I nodded for her to continue. “You see…the day
Spaghetti Clown got his namesake, I bumped into him in the empty hallway. Everyone was
already in the cafeteria and I was, you know, idiotically crying again…” She rolled her eyes,
probably at her past self, the one who couldn’t forget the guy who forgot her. “And I was
expecting him to shove me, shout at me for getting in his way, or something else that Phil”—
her ex—“would’ve done, but he didn’t. Instead he only asked me if I was okay. Maybe you
might think of this as a pathetic reason to like someone, but I don’t know…I just, I just
needed it that day, you know?”
I was already on the verge of blurting out the fact that the “guy” she was in love with
didn’t really exist and that she was already talking to the real Spaghetti Clown, but she said,
“I didn’t see him again after that, though, and I kept looking, as clichéd as that sounds, until
finally I saw him doing library work one late afternoon.”
My eyes widened. I was pretty sure I’d never done any library work in school. “Um, are
you sure that was Spaghetti Clown?”
Samantha looked at me oddly. “Of course. He had the same slightly upturned nose, fair
skin, not that tall for a guy, and he was wearing the same black sweatshirt, jeans, and pair of
sneakers. I don’t know about his eye color though, because the hood was covering most of his
face.”
Well. That couldn’t get any weirder.
“So anyway, I had to return a couple of books and he was the one who took them back. We
talked for a while, and I think that it was a pretty great start. I didn’t say a thing about us
bumping into each other, but he did deny being Spaghetti Clown,” she said. She shrugged, a
wistful smile tugging on her lips. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s not really Spaghetti
Clown, but I suppose it doesn’t matter if he isn’t. Maybe the one I bumped into wasn’t even
Spaghetti Clown, but in some way, Spaghetti Clown helped me meet someone who might be
worth it this time.”
I raised my eyebrows in amazement. “Wow,” I said. “Just…wow. So, are you guys, like,
hitting it off?”
“We’re just friends now,” she told me, “but I’m looking out for that silver lining, you
know?”
 “Yeah, I know,” I said. “That’s great, Sam.” Not knowing what else to say, I pointed
towards what I hoped was the direction of Alana’s kitchen and said, “Hey, I’ll go grab a
drink. Just update me if there’s any development, okay?” I winked and she laughed.
“Certainly,” she said.
I found my way to the kitchen where a group of people had gathered closely near the sink.
Someone was sitting on the counter, his head above the others, telling a story that caught
everyone’s attention in its grasp, someone with red hair.
Colin unleashed the punchline and everyone burst into fits of laughter. I took the
opportunity to stare at him. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, mustard pants (I had
no idea how he could pull it off but he did), and black Nike sneakers. I noticed Maria making
gooey eyes at him (okay, maybe she wasn’t, but that’s how it looked like from my
perspective). He was in the middle of a high-five with one of the people surrounding him
when he suddenly glanced up and looked straight at me.
I immediately turned away, refusing to acknowledge his presence before he acknowledged
mine. I focused instead on the cooler on the floor. I was disappointed to see mostly beer
inside, but I was thankful when I found a can of Coke. As I cracked it open, letting the air hiss
out, I heard a voice behind me say, “Well, well, look who actually came to the party.”
I jumped and whirled around, surprised to find Colin smirking down at me. “You know, I
was beginning to think you would find another book to read and wouldn’t come.”
What had happened to his group of friends? I looked around me and saw that they’d
scattered to different parts of the room, except for Maria, who was still standing by the sink
and was watching us with narrowed eyes.
I looked back at Colin, trying not to smile smugly. “Actually, I was in the middle of
reading,” I told him, taking a sip from my Coke, “but my mom insisted on me coming to the
party.”
“You’re lucky,” he said, snorting. “I had to sneak out of the balcony again. I have to be
back by midnight though. My parents usually check on me and my sisters around that time.”
“I never thought you of all people would have curfew,” I commented.
“Don’t you know? I’m Cinderella.” He raised the bottle of beer I didn’t realize he was
holding to his lips and drank.
I frowned. “I…I didn’t know you drink,” I said, unable to hold back my disappointment.
“I don’t,” he said, contrary to what he was doing right then. “I just take few sips at parties
when I feel like it. I never finish more than one bottle. I don’t want to get drunk.”
At this, I grinned. “I hate that, too. I mean, I really don’t get the point of it.”
“Some say it’s a form of escape,” he said, shrugging, “but I say that you can do that other
ways.”
“Like reading,” I eagerly suggested and he smiled knowingly at me. “I think your reading
is what normal people would call obsessive.”
“It’s not!” When he only laughed at me, I decided to change the subject—but only slightly.
“So, what’s your reason for not wanting to get drunk? I mean, you wouldn’t normally hear
that from an eighteen-year-old boy who loves to go to parties.”
“My dad used to be a drunk and it made my mom really sad,” he told me, surprisingly
honest, “and also, an ex-girlfriend of mine loved getting drunk at parties, and let’s just say
that she wasn’t the most tolerable person in the room and there was a considerable shortage of
patience on my part.”
“So, what happened?” I asked, too curious for my own good.
He took another sip. “She became my ex.”
 “What, just like that?” I asked incredulously.
“It wasn’t exactly a love match.”
“Still,” I said quietly, gulping down my Coke. It saddened me a bit that Colin wasn’t
serious, even in his relationships, but what did I expect? It seemed like even dating was too
serious a thing for him.
Before I heard her voice, I saw the pink fingernails resting on Colin’s upper arm. My gaze
flitted towards Maria, who had, without our knowing, migrated from her place at the sink to
right beside us. “Hey, Colin,” she said and then turned to me, “Seven. We’re going to play
Seven Minutes of Heaven upstairs. Do you guys want to join?”
“Seven Minutes of Heaven?” I repeated, making a face. I couldn’t understand why people
played. Maybe it was the thrill of it, but even if I did play and I ended up with, say, Colin, I
wouldn’t want my first kiss or first anything to be taken away by a mere game. Not exactly
what I pegged as romantic. “I don’t think—”
“Nonsense,” Colin immediately said, “You’re definitely coming. Maria, lead the way.”
Maria obviously didn’t like to be the one leading the way; she wanted to be the one
standing by Colin’s side. Not like she could complain though, and that gave me a small ounce
of victory. With a frown, she spun around, and walked out of the kitchen and to the stairs.
Maria went ahead, climbing the stairs two steps at a time. I dug in my heels, feeling the
deliciously carbonated liquid sloshing inside my Coke can.
Colin looked back at me and I said, “Colin, I said I didn’t want to go!”
“Technically, you said ‘I don’t think’, which I personally think really isn’t healthy for your
self-esteem,” he said matter-of-factly.
I fixed him with the best glare I could muster. “I didn’t mean—”
“Besides,” he cut in before I could finish, his lips curling into a grin, “it’s a party. Have
some fun while you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t really consider going into a room to do anything with someone I don’t even
like or I’m not even friends with as ‘fun’.”
He rolled his eyes and took my wrist. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. Come on.” Before I could
do or say anything about it, he dragged me up the stairs and towards a room with the door left
ajar. It was Alana’s room—this I could guess from the white and lavender duvet on the
princess bed and the computer screen with tons of Post-it’s and photos of herself and her
friends.
Inside, there were already some eight or nine people, either sat cross-legged on the
carpeted floor or standing by the windows, talking. Most of them I knew, which I was
thankful for, but I wasn’t all too glad either. Once we stepped into the room, Colin turned
back to close the door.
“Alright, guys,” Alana declared, waving a half-empty bottle of beer in her hand, “gather
around.”
Everyone did as she asked and we all scooted closer until we formed a circle, our knees
touching. In the middle was an empty bottle of beer. Unfortunately, I ended up sitting beside
Maria, while Colin decided to join some of his friends across the circle from me.
“You know the rules,” Alana said. “The chosen people will get to do whatever they want
inside that closet for seven minutes.” She pointed at the walk-in closet to her left. “We’ll spin
a bottle just to, you know, put a little spice in it. The person to the left of whoever it was last
pointing at will be the next victim.” With a wicked smile, she added, “No exceptions.”
I swallowed nervously.
 The game began with Alana, who spun the bottle while drinking her beer. It turned once,
twice, thrice, four times…until it finally landed on Nolan, a boy I’d been with in all of my
science-related classes and who proved to be good in the subjects.
Seven minutes later, when they’d finally exited the closet with messed up hair, flushed
cheeks and slightly disheveled clothes, he proved to be good at so many other things as
well—or so Alana told Maria with a fitful of giggles when she sat back down.
Colin, who was sitting at Nolan’s left side, took the bottle a little too excitedly and spun it.
As it turned and turned and turned, the neck of the bottle deliriously close to stopping at
anyone, I felt a little sick from anxiety. My stomach twisted into knots, hoping that it would
land on me and also that it wouldn’t.
I wanted to kiss him—there was no denying that—but I didn’t want to kiss him in a closet
with ten people waiting for us to come out, knowing full well what we could possibly be
doing inside.
The bottle slowed on its way to me and my heart nearly exploded when it passed by,
almost stopping—but ended up sliding farther and pointing at a girl beside me. I was a little
glad it wasn’t Maria, but I still didn’t like the fact that it was Kiera, a curvy brunette wearing
a provocative mini skirt and tank top.
While I was transforming into the green-eyed monster and was very tempted to bite
Kiera’s head off, Colin laughed and said, “Well, hello there, Kiera.”
Kiera giggled at him and stood up, almost too eagerly, I noticed, and they both headed
inside the closet, after Colin had opened the door for her and welcomed her in like a
gentleman. Some of the people in the circle laughed, most of them his friends, while others
stayed quiet, just watching curiously.
And then there was me, who felt like her heart had been torn out of her chest and stomped
on right before her eyes. I told myself that I wasn’t supposed to be shocked or hurt by it. I
knew way before that Colin didn’t like me that way. Sure, maybe he was fond of me, but that
didn’t really count as anything.
I should’ve been prepared for something like this sooner or later. For someone as
fantastically handsome as him, he was bound to have a girlfriend someday. This was just
practice for me for the dreadful future.
It was the longest seven minutes of my life.
When Colin finally got out of the closet and sat back down, his friends punched his
shoulder playfully and he grinned.
Why was I even staying here and enduring this? I should just leave. I was about to get up
when Maria leaned forward and took the bottle. She smiled sweetly as she handed it to me.
“It’s your turn, Seven.”
I looked down at it and then up at her. I was very much tempted to grab it and throw it at
her big blonde head. And maybe throw it at Kiera too.
But due to social etiquette, I obviously couldn’t do that, so I was only left with the option
of sitting back down and spinning the bottle, ignoring Colin’s stare and the trembling of my
pale fingers. I watched it spin with a blank expression, seeing the bottle, but at the same time
seeing something else: Colin leaning into Kiera in a dark room, his strong but gentle hand
weaving through her hair, his lips parting for the kiss.
I could hear laughter and whistles, snapping me out of my reverie. I only saw then that the
bottle had stopped spinning. I slowly raised my head, dread settling in the pit of my stomach
as I wondered in that split second who I was going to share my first kiss with, only to find out
in the next that it was Ray, who was grinning at me in a way that I couldn’t return at the
moment—or maybe ever. He was good looking, which made it a little better, but it didn’t help
that he was known to be quite a groper.
My face paled as I stood up, my knees wobbling, and slowly made my way around the
circle and to the cabinet door. Ray was just a foot away from me…when a hand suddenly
entered my peripheral vision and held Ray’s shoulder at an arm’s distance away from me.
A familiar voice pierced through the pounding of my blood in my ears, saying, “Sorry,
cupcake, we’re calling in for a substitution.”
I tore my gaze from a stupefied Ray to Colin, who was standing right behind me, his chin
almost touching my shoulder. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
“Sit back down, Stillman!” someone from the circle said (I didn’t know or care to know
who it was; I was too involved in staring at Colin in awe). “Rules are rules. She has to kiss
him.”
Colin turned to the person with a mischievous grin. “Hey, the rules didn’t say a
replacement isn’t allowed. Technically, you just have to kiss someone in there.” He nodded
towards the cabinet. “The bottle is just here to spice things up a little, as Alana said.”
Nobody protested.
Taking the silence as a yes, he took my hand and opened the doors to the cabinet. “Alright-
y then,” he sang as he slipped in, tugging me along. Once I was in, he pushed the doors shut
and darkness engulfed us both.
At first, neither of us spoke. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden lack of light, I
started to see the silhouettes of clothes hanging on racks and boxes of shoes piled on a top
shelf. And then I made out the human form right in front of me that was Colin.
“T-thanks,” I was able to blurt out. “I have no idea how I could’ve backed out of that one
if you hadn’t come into the picture.” I squinted. I could see his face, but it wasn’t that clear. I
wondered if he could see me.
Colin chuckled and said, “No problem.”
“I can’t believe they actually bought what you said about replacements.”
“Half of the people in the room were too drunk to argue. The other half probably didn’t
really care.”
“But…” I continued hesitantly, “why did you do that? I mean, you didn’t have to, of
course.”
“You wouldn’t ask that if you’d seen your face a little while ago.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “Thank you—again.”
“Well,” he huffed, and I could almost imagine Colin shrugging in the darkness, looking as
if it couldn’t have been helped otherwise, “it’s not like I do these kinds of things for free…”
I blinked and narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms. “And what do you mean by
that?”
With a suggestive smile, he said, “Well, we are playing Seven Minutes of Heaven. Might
as well do what we have to do, right?”
I was opening my mouth to answer him when his hand reached out, touching the strands of
hair framing my face, his fingers brushing the spot where my jaw and my neck met. In the
dark, I vaguely saw long dark lashes against fair skin. I knew Colin was looking straight at
me.
In a flash, an image came uninvited into my mind, slicing through the racing of my heart:
Kiera holding onto his shirt, her back arched, hungrily kissing the same lips that were about to
kiss me. Involuntarily, I winced.
 Colin suddenly stopped, his hand hanging on air next to my cheek. He slowly dropped it
and then cleared his throat. “Uh, well, I have another proposition so you can, you know, pay
me back,” he said, as if nothing had happened in the past few seconds where I thought my
heart was going to burst.
I looked up at him, my heart clenching in disappointment and regret. Did he think I was
disgusted by him because I winced? I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t like that, but my throat
closed up, unwilling to let the words come out. What if I hadn’t winced? What if? Would he
have really…kissed me?
It took me a while before I managed to say, “I hate your propositions.”
He ignored what I said and continued: “You could be my slave for an entire school day.”
At that, I snapped out of the trance I was in, and looked up sharply. “What!” I exclaimed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope,” he said matter-of-factly, popping the ‘p’.
“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “There is no way I’m doing that.”
“Hey,” he said defensively, “you should be happy I made it only for a school day, which
means that this deal expires when school is over.”
“That doesn’t make being a slave of someone like you, of all people, any better.”
Colin sighed and shook his head. “Well, I’ve done my part,” he said and then gestured to
the closed cabinet doors. “You know I can just easily ask Ray to come take his place again—”
“No!” I quickly took back what I said and then bit my lip, feeling troubled. I knew that I
could simply walk out of that closet, out of that house, and this stupid game and its stupid
rules would be all left behind me—but I also knew that Colin wouldn’t let me hear the end of
it.
“F-Fine,” I muttered weakly, and then promptly added, “but whatever you make me do
mustn’t involve anything sexual or related in any way to the notebook and its contents.”
“Darn, that was about to be my first order of business,” he said, clicking his tongue.
“I can’t stop about the notebook, Colin. I need it. You know I need it but you’re just too
stubborn to give it back,” I said spitefully.
“Au contraire, I’m not stubborn. I just don’t want to ruin what will surely be an interesting
and definitely comedic show to watch,” he said, grinning naughtily at me. I rolled my eyes.
“And alright,” he continued, “it’s a deal. While we’re at it, we have to at least look like we
kissed.”
He took my chin in his hand and smeared my lip gloss with his thumb. The action parted
my lips just a little tiny bit and I was left with an aftertaste and the lingering desire for
something I couldn’t quite put a finger on. He wiped the lip gloss on his thumb over his lips,
leaving a little bit of the shiny, strawberry flavored substance at the corner of his mouth. He
pulled the tie keeping my bun in place off and messed up his own hair.
“I look weird with puffy hair,” I said, frowning at the unattractive waves my hair was
making after being tied for so long.
“You look perfect,” he said, and I reminded myself that he didn’t actually mean it. “And
I’m doing you a favor here. You would’ve gotten off much worse with Ray. Now, ready?”
I nodded and then he turned the knob of the cabinet. A sliver of light flitted into the dark
room, spreading as the doors were opened wider. I squinted uncomfortably as I heard cheers
from the circle.
When I sat back down, my eyes still adjusting to the sudden brightness, Alana leaned
towards me and squealed, “Oh. My. Gosh! Seven, how was it? I mean, I’m totally jealous
over you right now, but I want details!”
 I immediately fitted into the part I needed to play. I licked my lips, as if I was savoring the
taste, and grinned goofily. “It was…it was pretty good,” I said, trying my best to sound
breathless, but I was afraid that my attempt had just made me sound like I was choking on
something.
Alana looked at me as if I’d won the lottery. “Is he a good kisser? Some say he is.”
I smacked my lips shut and nodded shyly, hoping that I was able to achieve a blush, “Mm-
hmm…”
“Oh, man,” she sighed longingly. “I can’t believe he actually called a substitution just to be
able to kiss you. That’s just so…” Another sigh.
As Alana drank some more of her beer, muttering to herself that she wished she had gotten
to kiss Colin, I surreptitiously turned my gaze to Colin, who was immediately teased for being
so greedy with kisses. He just shrugged and laughed.
In between smiles and stories concerning the kiss that were both equally fake, I couldn’t
help but think distractedly, what if?
I could almost imagine the outcome—if I hadn’t flinched, maybe he would’ve continued
moving closer and closer and closer until the air we were breathing was the only thing
between us, until his lips were against mine.
And then what if he did kiss me? Does that mean he likes me? Or was I just one of those
girls who like him and he was only using me?
Later, when the game was over and it was time to go home, Maria bounced off her feet to
Colin, practically begging him for a ride home. As I watched their exchange, not hearing a
thing they were saying, my gut folded in on itself at the thought that if Maria or Alana had
been in my place, they wouldn’t have hesitated, much less winced. They wouldn’t have
wasted the opportunity.
But was it really an opportunity that I’d wasted? Or was it a bullet I’d successfully
dodged? There were too many “what ifs”, but I still couldn’t stop myself from thinking of
them.
Maria stepped into Colin’s car, and I heard the engine start.
What if?
They drove down the block and disappeared around the corner. As I stood out in the cold,
ignoring Tracy’s voice calling my name, and feeling like an idiot in my dress, a sudden gush
of wind passed by me, tousling my hair and caressing my skin. It mocked me, reminding me
of Colin’s gentle hand.
What if?
 Entry 9: Plan G – Who Said Slaves Can’t Have Minions of Their Own?

Date: March 25, 2013

Do you know that feeling when you know that you could’ve done something to change how
things turned out and yet you didn’t do it? And now you hate yourself for being so stupid, for
being such a coward, and not taking the step forward that you should have?
That’s what I felt like right then as I took slow careful steps on the way to school on
Monday morning.
The weekend had gone and passed without much event, except for the fact that I nearly
drove myself insane by thinking and rethinking about last Friday’s party and the game where
I was supposed to have my first kiss with Colin.
But that’s the thing: I didn’t have it.
I couldn’t seem to get Alana’s voice out of my head, her words shooting darts at my heart:
I can’t believe he actually called a substitution just to be able to kiss you.
Was that really the case? Colin said that it was because he knew that I would rather die
than be inside that cabinet alone with Ray.
But he did move to kiss me. There was that. Did that mean he wanted to kiss me in some
way? Then did that mean…?
I shook my head. It couldn’t be like that. It just couldn’t be. Besides, he even looked like
he wanted to kiss Kiera that night. How was I supposed to compete against someone like her?
A mother pushing a stroller passed by and I glanced down at the sleeping baby curled up in
it, distracting me momentarily from the damage my thoughts were doing to me. It was quite
sadistic, really—the fact that I knew that dwelling on what had happened would only hurt me
but still doing it anyway.
When I arrived at school, it was a little easier to push my thoughts aside, what with
everyone getting excited and all. It was already the day before spring break, and although I
had been excited about it a month ago, right then, I wasn’t all that sure.
First off, I wouldn’t be able to easily lie out my plans for the notebook. It wasn’t like I
could always sneak into Colin’s house and attempt to steal it back again—who knew if the
next time I got caught it would be his mom or sister? That would certainly be a disaster that
neither of us would want to be a part of.
And then there was this debatable disappointment in my heart at not being able to see the
thief who took the notebook in the first place, for two weeks.
Speaking of Colin, I was currently slinking behind people’s backs, ducking to the side of
the lockers and keeping my head down on the way to class for two specific reasons:
1. I was scared I might think about the party again if he talked to me (I know, it’s
ridiculous; I should be over it already), and I didn’t know if I could control what I’d
do or say, or if I’d move at all.
2. As sure as the sun rises and sets every morning, the moment he would see me, he’d
remind me of the fact that I was going to be his slave for the rest of the school day.
 Although I got an awful lot of odd stares, I managed to get inside my classes like the ninja
that I was without Colin seeing me (he was with his friends at the lockers, the sneaky little
creature of the night—Maria—right beside him).
I let out a sigh of relief when my butt landed on my chair and the bell rang, accompanied
by the inflow of students to their classrooms, reassuring me that I would be safe—at least for
the space of a period.
Class went on as usual, the teachers gave us assignments to do over the break, and
naturally, an unhappy groan came from the students lips—myself included.
Whenever I happened to find myself out in the open at the hallways, I was actually grateful
for the people who were eagerly seeking my advice. That way, I wouldn’t have the chance of
glancing around the crowd and possibly meeting Colin’s eye.
I had no way of knowing if Colin had seen me, but if he had, he’d probably chosen not to
talk to me at that time. Or maybe I was just getting lucky and he hadn’t seen me after all.
Once the lunch bell let loose, ending my fourth class, I was pretty confident in myself that
I could disappear from Colin’s radar for the rest of the day.
Oh, how horribly wrong I was.
I walked into the cafeteria with a spring to my step, not even trying to hide anymore, and
took my place in the line. I was in a much better mood than I was this morning that I smiled at
people who passed by me and talked briefly with the person in front of me. I even greeted the
cafeteria lady good afternoon. She didn’t return the favor, though. She just gave me a
suspicious look.
I noticed that she’d started giving me special attention ever since the Spaghetti Clown
incident. I didn’t mind it though, and asked for a plate of the only thing that seemed even
remotely appetizing—meat loaf—and some juice.
I already had everything I needed on a tray and was just a few paces away from paying for
my lunch, when the person behind me in the line leaned forward just enough so that his
mouth was right beside my ear, and whispered, “Buy me lunch, would ya?”
I jumped, mostly from the warm breath that sent the hairs at the back of my neck going
ramrod straight, and whirled around to find Colin looking down at me with an amused smile.
“Colin,” I managed to choke out.
“Seems like you’re having a nice day…my slave,” he said. And, from the grin that was
slowly forming on his lips, I knew that it was only the beginning of what would surely be a
long, long day.

***

Apparently I owed Colin money, which was why he was able to buy his best friends’ lunch,
and because he was just that nice he invited me to sit and eat with them…
Or at least, that was what Colin told his best friends, Roman, Mark, and Stephen, when
he’d practically dragged me by the collar of my shirt and introduced me to them,
awkwardness oozing out of me.
“Chick magnet,” Roman said right then.
“Am not,” Colin calmly answered.
“Are too!” Roman turned to me. “I’m telling you, Seven,” he said, waving a spoonful of
what was supposed to be mashed potato but looked more like pale yellow goo, “you’ve really
got to be careful of this one.”
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Duly noted,” I said.
 “But you know—”
“Alright, just eat already, will you?” Colin said, grabbing Roman’s hand and shoving the
supposed-to-be-mashed-potato into Roman’s mouth, promptly shutting him up.
Roman coughed and swallowed the food with some difficultly. After taking a big gulp of
water, he turned on Colin as Mark and Stephen laughed and said, “You didn’t even let me
finish what I was saying!”
He whirled around to look back at me and continued, “Sorry, Seven. I was just going to
say, before I was rudely interrupted”—he glanced implicatively at Colin as he emphasized the
words—“that this guy, despite all his antics, actually has a good heart.”
“Now that’s more like it,” Colin drawled, chuckling.
Roman glared at him. “You know what, I think I’m going to take it back, considering you
just choked me.”
“Aw, you can’t do that.”
“And why not?” he asked defiantly.
“Well,” Colin said, lightly touching the rim of his drink, his long fingers gentle and
graceful, “it’s just as if you gave me a gift, which I wholeheartedly accept by the way, and
now you want it back. Don’t you think that’s a little bit rude?”
As the two were whisked into an argument about whether the situation was the same or not
and whether it was rude to take back a gift you already gave, I forked a piece of my meat loaf
and shoved it into my mouth, chewing and trying not to look as inconspicuous as I felt.
I just wanted to clarify some things: yes, unfortunately, Colin made me buy him and his
friends lunch, adding three extra dollars to my usually budget; no, I didn’t owe him money—
that was one of his crafty lies; and no, he most definitely did not invite me to their table just
because he was being nice.
On the up side, his friends were actually nice. Roman did fifty percent of the talking while
Colin did the other thirty; the remainder was left for Stephen and Mark to share. Stephen
looked to be more of a listener but Mark wasn’t any better, much to my disappointment.
Maybe it was just that, after he’d trusted me enough to tell me about his secret relationship
with Gayle, I thought that he would sort of be like a friend of mine now.
But instead he barely looked at me in the eye during the whole exchange, only laughed
softly and contributed a few words to the conversation, obviously trying to hide his presence
as much as he could.
Long story short: Gayle’s father would only allow her to date somebody who passed under
his ridiculously high standards, and Mark wasn’t exactly the golden boy that every parent
would want for their only daughter. To make things worse, her father was the principal—yes,
the principal of our school—giving him the sweet opportunity of monitoring over her
potential suitors and if she was getting herself into any trouble.
Now I wondered if perhaps the reason why Mark wasn’t acting like he owed me big
time—which was the usual reaction—was that the advice I gave him was to tell Gayle’s
father straight up about their relationship. I’d reasoned, “A truth told is better than a truth
found out.” I had no idea if either of them even followed my advice or not.
The bell went off and chairs started screeching against the floor and students flooded out
of the cafeteria. We all did the same, throwing our leftovers and stacking the trays and our
utensils in a pile. Once we were at the door, Colin asked me, “What’s your next subject?”
“I think I have free period next,” I said.
“Goodie,” he said, grinning, “you can do my essay report in history.”
 My eyes widened. “No…you mean the one that has to be at least three pages?” He merely
smiled, but it was enough for me to understand. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, wagging a finger at my direction. “No complaining. And when
you’re done, get my books for physics, will ya?”
“It’s not like I have a choice,” I replied with gritted teeth.
Colin patted my head, mockingly encouraging. “That’s the spirit.”
I heaved a heavy sigh and made my way to the library. My original plan was to finish my
reading, but instead I sat in front of one of the computers, grumbling under my breath.
I set to work on Colin’s essay report, very tempted every ten minutes or so to drastically
change the contents and just let him fail, as he deserved, but my cursed conscience wouldn’t
allow it. I finished it up with Colin’s name at the top left corner of the paper and printed it
quickly.
I still had half an hour to spare and I used it to read the new book I was in. I was still a
little hungover from the previous romance novel I’d been reading, which was pretty amazing.
The only problem with it was that I couldn’t seem to fully sink myself into the protagonist’s
position without transforming the leading man into the owner of the essay report I was
currently leaning my elbows on.
I shook my head, trying to shake those thoughts away. I was just getting back into the story
when someone’s head peeked into my peripheral vision. I looked up slowly, dragging the
moment out before I’d have to break my peaceful silence and solitude.
A freshman, Eunice, stood awkwardly on the balls of her feet, her smile expectant. I knew
her from all the times I’d helped her in math club. Yes, I was in the math club. Sue me.
“Hi there,” I said, noticing the shy vibe she was releasing.
“Hi Seven,” she said in a small voice.
“What’s up, Eunice?”
“Well,” she said, sounding a little excited. She took the seat beside me so abruptly that I
actually leaned away a little. “Seven,” she said, grinning. “It worked. Your advice worked!”
“Oh…” I said, “really?” What was her secret again? Eunice…Eunice…she was probably
the one who found out that her brother was dating someone way older and way out of his
league. But no, her excitement didn’t seem to be for that kind of secret. Maybe she was the
one who taught me how to rig some of the security cameras the school had placed at “hidden”
corners—no, wait. I hadn’t even given that person advice back then. I was only interested
about the new information I’d obtained. Ugh.
“Um, that’s great!” I just decided to reply, trying not to make it obvious that I had no idea
what we were talking about.
“I mean, no offense, but at first I thought it wouldn’t work,” she gushed, gesticulating
wildly, “but I just decided to trust you and see where it went and it did work! It did!”
I laughed. “Yes, it seems so.”
“I have to apologize to you though, Seven,” she said, suddenly looking serious.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“I mean, I shouldn’t have burdened you with my secret. In a way, I got you involved.”
I still had no idea what we were talking about. “Oh, no, it’s okay,” I reassured her with a
smile. “I’m glad, um…to have helped.”
Eunice suddenly grabbed my hands in hers and leaned really close, saying, “Thank you so
much, Seven!”
“Uh, yeah sure, anytime,” I said awkwardly.
 “I’m serious,” she said, her eyes shining. “Thank you. I owe you.” The word “owe”
seemed to ring in my ears, but it was only when she asked, “Is there any way that I can repay
you?” did a mere idea in my head start to materialize and solidify into a plan.
A grin slowly spread across my face. “Well…there is something you could help me
with…”

***

I leaned forward from my hiding spot behind the lockers and peeked through the spaces
between two people talking a foot away from me, trying not to listen in on what they were
talking about. My attention was solely on the redhead glancing around the hall, as if searching
for someone.
Colin was probably expecting me to bring his physics books and essay report around this
time. I waited patiently, looking out for Eunice.
The plan was that she’d bump into Colin, scattering her things, and while Colin would be
helping her gather them, I’d sweep in and grab the notebook that was peeking out of his back
pocket. I specifically emphasized to her afterwards that I had my reasons for doing this,
reasons that I would like to keep to myself, meaning that she was not to tell anyone about this.
If you thought about it, it was technically the first sort-of secret of mine that I shared with
anyone at school. I just hoped Eunice felt like she owed me enough that she’d fulfill her
promise of not spilling a word.
Right on time, Eunice appeared into the scene, running as fast as she could, while carrying
a pile of books. She hurriedly dodged people in the hall, making a beeline towards our target.
As Colin cast one more look around the other heads in the hall, Eunice collided
dramatically into him, her arms letting go of the books she was holding. They both fell to the
floor in a harmonic arrangement of thuds and grunts, and though some looked back to see
what the ruckus was all about, others went on ahead to their classes.
I saw Eunice get up slowly, her mouth moving, probably apologizing to Colin for not
looking where she was going. I couldn’t see Colin’s face as he’d got up and was helping her.
This was my cue. I stepped out of my hideout and walked determinedly towards them. The
black notebook was sticking out of his pocket, almost as if it was welcoming me.
I quickened my pace and soon I was within five feet of Colin. Four feet, three feet—until I
was directly behind him, my arm swiftly reaching down to snatch the notebook. And then
miraculously—and for a moment, unbelievably—it was in my hands.
I didn’t have the time to enjoy my victory though, because Colin immediately whirled
around, probably having felt the sudden disappearance of the notebook in his pocket. He
spotted me before I was able to escape, but I didn’t waste another minute.
I took off, pumping my arms in a futile effort to speed up. I didn’t even try to look back,
afraid that if I did, I’d slow down and Colin would be upon me. My mind searched for places
I could hide in and wait for him to leave, but when I was about to enter the girls’ bathroom, I
saw him from the corner of my eye, merely a few feet away. He was surely going to catch me.
I pushed past some people, who complained irritably, and continued running. I cut around
a corner and immediately spotted the janitor’s closet. I dashed towards it and closed the door
behind me.
The room was about half the size of an ordinary classroom and as the smell of floor wax
entered my nose and the sound of my panting echoed against the blurry window of the door, I
looked out to see if Colin was still there.
 A dark figure ran past and I instinctively pulled away. I could hear a pair of sneakers
squeaking against the newly polished floor, and for a moment, I thought Colin wasn’t going
to find me.
And then the squeaking suddenly stopped. My heart seemed to stop as well.
The squeaking came back in seconds but it sounded as if it was getting closer and closer.
Dread was like a cold finger tracing the line of my spine. I slowly turned back to look out the
window, only to see Colin standing on the other side of it.
With a yelp, I jumped away from the door, just as Colin opened it, strode confidently into
the room, and kicked the door shut. I backed away from him, and only realized that it was a
mistake when I felt the shelf holding extra rolls of tissue and cans of paint pressing against
my back.
He didn’t stop walking until he was right in front of me, his hands planted on the shelf at
either side of my head. He looked at me from under his lashes and I held my breath as
memories of last Friday’s party rushed into my head. I was trapped.
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, sounding just a little breathless.
“Nowhere,” I said quietly. My fingers frantically clutched the black notebook. He looked
down at it and plucked it out of my hand as easily as if he were taking a candy from a baby.
“Hey!” I immediately protested, extending my arm to take it back, but he held it too far
away from me. I felt my heart sink as I watched my plan and short-lived victory crumble to
pieces. “It’s mine, Colin!” I said, trying not to lose that small hope I had in getting it back.
“It seems you have forgotten that you’re supposed to be my slave for today,” he said,
ignoring my desperate pleas. He smiled. “You know, I should punish you for this—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the doorknob behind him started jiggling. We both
looked sharply back at the door and when I saw two silhouettes through the glass window, I
wanted to slam the heel of my hand against my forehead for almost forgetting. I quickly
grabbed Colin’s arm and dragged him behind the shelf, forcing him to get down on his knees
as I did the same.
“What are you—”
I clamped a hand over his mouth and whispered urgently, “Quiet!”
In the next second, the door creaked open and two people entered the room. I poked my
head out, trying to see in between cans of paint if I was correct in guessing that it was Jake
and Tiffany who had just entered the room.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” a guy’s voice said huskily as one of the
people locked the door behind them. I could see two bodies pressed against each other and
hear the sounds of wet kissing and moaning. I made a face.
Yup, it was definitely Jake and Tiffany. It was a good thing that I remembered their secret
in that split second or else the couple might have thought that Colin and I were just like
them—sneaking into the janitor’s closet every free period to make out.
I didn’t realize I was still pressing my hand against Colin’s mouth until I felt something
wet on my palm. I immediately took my hand away and turned on him, uttering, “Ew—” I
was able to stop myself though, before I could say another syllable, and waited as the couple
paused in their rigorous make out session.
“What was that?” I heard Jake whisper. “I thought I heard something.”
“Maybe it was a rat,” Tiffany’s voice sounded dazed.
“I still feel like it was a mistake for you to tell Seven about this—about us.”
“Baby, it’s fine. Everyone tells Seven their secrets. She hasn’t spilled anything to anyone.”
 I could imagine Jake scowling as he said, “How would you know? She’s not a psychiatrist.
She’s just another teenager like us. She could easily tell somebody—”
“And you, pretty boy, should just stop worrying and kiss me already.”
He hesitated and then I heard Jake chuckle and say, “Whatever you say, ma’am.”
I let out a barely audible sigh of relief. Once I was sure that Jake and Tiffany were too
involved in their world to notice us, I turned on Colin and whispered right in his ear: “I can’t
believe you licked my hand!”
Colin grinned in the semi-darkness at me and said in an equally low voice, “What I can’t
believe is that these two are actually a thing.”
I stared at him for a moment. “Wait, what? You didn’t know about this?”
He shook his head and shrugged, asking, “Should I?”
I was more than slightly stunned. How could he not know about this? I thought back. I was
pretty sure I wrote about this secret in the black notebook—in the first page, to be exact. And
seeing how long it’d been with him, he should’ve read about this already.
That is, unless he didn’t sneak a peek…but I would’ve bet my life that Colin wouldn’t
have been able to resist.
“Well…” I said, “didn’t you read it in here?” I pointed at his jacket pocket, where he’d
slipped the black notebook in.
At first he looked confused, and I wondered if perhaps he hadn’t actually peeked inside the
notebook, like I thought he did, but after a minute of silence, he replied, “I, uh…I didn’t reach
that part yet.”
I furrowed my eyebrows and shrugged to myself. He probably didn’t read it page by page,
I thought, or maybe he just skipped some parts.
After a few moments of listening to Jake and Tiffany eat each other’s faces, I found myself
staring at Colin. Slivers of light pierced through the glass window and in between the cans of
paint, cast shadows across Colin’s face. I realized he was staring at me too.
The small amount of light made his eyes glint and for a second I imagined him being the
Cheshire cat from Wonderland and I was Alice, about to embark on a dangerous adventure in
the dark forest.
“This is like listening to porn,” he whispered to me. I snickered and quickly covered my
mouth with my hand in an effort to drown out the sound. I lightly pushed him by the shoulder
and gestured for him to be quiet. He merely grinned at me.
Finally, after what seemed to have been an eternity, the bell rang and Jake and Tiffany
detached themselves from each other. Breathing heavily, Jake said, “I’ll see you later, babe.”
“Bye,” Tiffany said, giggling.
The door clicked open and Jake left the room. After ten minutes, Tiffany did the same.
Colin and I slowly got up from our hiding spot, our knees aching from how long we’d been
crouching on the floor.
“Finally,” Colin said, stretching his arms and yawning. “I thought that would never end.”
“We are in so much trouble,” I said nervously, pacing across the room. “We just skipped
an entire period of calculus!”
“Relax,” he told me complacently, “Mr. White’s probably only going to give us
detention.”
“Only detention?” I asked him incredulously. “I’ve never been to detention!”
 “Don’t worry, alright? Detention’s not going to eat you. It’s just forty-five minutes in a
classroom where a teacher’s supposed to watch over you and you’re not supposed to talk. It’s
really boring but it beats suspension hands-down.”
I dragged a hand down my face, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. I was also
still pretty bummed about the fact that I’d failed to take the notebook back—again—but I just
sighed and reached for the door. “Come on, if we don’t hurry up, we’ll be late for our next
class.” I opened the door, blinking at the sudden light. Colin stepped out along with me and I
was just about to rush to my classroom when he held me back by the arm.
I looked back at him in surprise. “What?”
“One last thing you have to do as my slave,” he said, pulling me closer to him. He took
something from his pocket and raised it above our heads. It was his phone. I looked up at it at
the same time he said, “Say cheese.”
I told myself to ignore the fact that the sides of our heads were touching, almost as if we
were a couple leaning against each other, and obliged, “Cheese.”
There was a sound of the camera taking the picture and then Colin pulled away from and
went, “Alright, you’re free to go.”
“What was the picture for?” I asked, trying to stifle the smile that was tempted to creep up
my face.
“Think of it as a souvenir,” he said, smiling softly at me, “of the day when you were my
slave.” With that, he turned on his heel and jogged off to his next class.
I stared after him in wonder. “He really is a free spirit,” I said to myself before heading to
my own class.

***

Colin was right: Mr. White had given us only detention for skipping classes, and a warning
that if we did it again he’d be forced to give us a heavier punishment.
He was wrong about it being only forty-five minutes, though. Apparently, that was only
for ordinary school days. Since it was already spring break, we were to have detention for the
whole morning tomorrow.
I sighed as I fumbled for my keys and fitted them through the hole. I used my shoulder to
push open the front door, which creaked in its familiar tones. When I turned back to lock it
again, I could hear the sound of a cooking show on the TV.
“Mom?” I called, padding over to the living room. A chef expertly tossed ingredients into
the pan, one of them being strips of bacon. At the sight of the sizzling meat, my stomach
started grumbling.
I glanced at the half-full glass of juice on the coffee table and reached for the remote to
turn the TV off. “Mom?” I called again, but there was still no answer. I looked around. It all
seemed so empty without my mom’s presence around.
I dropped my bag by the couch and went to the kitchen, hoping to see her busily cooking
while trying to keep her marked territory spotlessly clean, but I only spotted the burning meal
left on the stove. Waving away the smoke, I hurriedly switched the flame off and took the pan
away.
That’s odd, I thought, as I placed the burnt pan in the sink to cool off, Mom wouldn’t have
left it just like that.
Worry hung on my back like a parasite as I went off to search for my mom. I made my
way around the house, checking the rooms, but she wasn’t in any of them. I walked down the
hall and towards the bathroom, but the sound of someone retching made me pause. Disturbing
sounds of splashes followed afterwards. I swallowed with uneasiness.
“Mom?” I asked uncertainly as I stepped closer to the closed bathroom door. I knocked
first, but there was no verbal answer. I pressed my ear to the wood and listened. Someone was
definitely puking on the other side of the door, and I was afraid that that someone was my
mom.
I started knocking more urgently. “Mom! Are you okay in there?” When she didn’t answer
again, I twisted the knob and pushed the door open. I looked down and found my mom bent
over the toilet, holding back the strands of her short black hair with shaking hands.
I watched as she retched even more into the bowl and the sight made me want to empty my
stomach as well. She pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and taking
deep breaths. I ran over to her just in time as her eyes rolled back in their sockets and she fell.
I caught her in my arms before she could hit the floor.
“Mom! Mom!” I shouted frantically, panic clouding my thoughts, “Mom!”
 Entry 10: Plan H – Reverse Psychology

Date: March 25, 2013

I weaved my fingers together. I unwove them and ran them through my hair. I cupped my
hands over my nose and mouth and let out a shaky breath. I weaved my fingers together
again.
I subconsciously glanced up at the clock for the fifth time and saw that it was four twenty-
five in the afternoon. One minute had passed from the last time I checked. It had been fifteen
minutes since the ambulance had pulled itself in front of the hospital and brought my mom in
a gurney, but it felt more like an hour.
I was seated on one of those uncomfortable chairs placed out in the white halls of the
hospital, and just two seats away from me was a woman hysterically crying. I had no idea if
something terrible had already happened to her or maybe she was just really, really worried,
but I certainly didn’t want to face whatever was about to come alone just like she was.
I reminded myself that I’d already called my dad and that he said he would be over right
away. That reassured me a little.
After a minute or two of more restlessness and sickening anticipation, my dad finally
arrived. He was still clad in the blackish-gray suit—the one with the pink pinstripes that my
mom and I got him for Christmas two years ago—which I saw him wearing this morning
before he left for work. But now his tie was loosened and the first button of his shirt had been
freed.
I immediately got to my feet, only to realize that my knees were too weak to carry me.
Thankfully, before I could make an embarrassment out of myself, my dad caught me in his
strong arms and engulfed me in a hug.
“It’s going to be alright, kiddo,” he told me, although I noticed that he didn’t sound all that
sure himself. He gently pushed me away to get a look at my face. “How is she?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said, sitting back down. My dad took the seat beside me. “They just
took her away fifteen minutes or so ago. I have no idea what’s wrong with her. I just heard
her puking and—”
Dad looked up all of a sudden, cutting me off, and abruptly stood. I whirled around to see a
beautiful woman dressed in a white doctor’s coat approaching us. She looked familiar, but I
was pretty sure I’d never met any young doctors with red hair like her before.
She was looking down at a clipboard, but when she stopped in front of us she looked up
and fixed us with an emerald-green gaze. She asked, “Are you two the relatives of Mrs. Julie
Warrilow?”
“Yes, I’m her husband,” my father answered and then reached over to squeeze my
shoulder, “and this is our daughter. Do you know what’s happened to her, doc?”
“I certainly do, sir, and I would just like to say,” she said, pausing for a moment, almost as
if for dramatic effect, before she finally continued, “congratulations.”
My dad and I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Ha?”
 Her smile was brilliant as she announced, “Sir, your wife is one month pregnant.”
I thought I was going to faint right there and then.
My dad looked like he was ready to join me in the act of swooning, but he kept himself
perfectly still and composed so that he could listen to all the details that the doctor was telling
him. She explained that the reason why my mom became unconscious was because of all the
accommodations that the baby was making as it settled into what was going to be its home for
the next nine months.
“It wasn’t unusual that she became weak due to the changes occurring inside her body,”
the doctor reassured us, “but I do insist that you let her rest if ever she does any heavy work
or chores regularly. It would be best if she’d lie down every once in a while so that, in case
another episode like this happens, she won’t have an accident.”
As they talked, I spaced out for a while, still relishing in the news I’d just received: my
mom was pregnant—pregnant! I was actually going to have a little brother or sister. I
wouldn’t be an only child anymore.
A tingle ran through my body, spreading out to my toes and fingertips. I restrained myself
from squealing in excitement right there in front of the doctor and the woman who was no
longer crying but was merely staring off into the distance with puffy eyes.
From all the secrets and stories I’d heard, having a younger sibling—or even an older
sibling—seemed like such a pain, but I could already picture everything so vividly: I wouldn’t
be alone in the house if Dad still wasn’t home from work and Mom was out doing an errand. I
could spend my free time helping my sister doll up, or maybe watch Star Trek movies with
my brother, and I would have somebody to share my books with, other than Nick. I couldn’t
wait!
I glanced up at the doctor, and as she spoke, her body moved slightly, and the fluorescent
light above her caught something pinned to her coat. I looked and saw her name printed in big
letters: DR. STILLMAN.
I stared at it for a moment, mulling over that last name. Huh, I thought quietly to myself,
what a coincidence. This woman couldn’t be related to Colin, could she? I mean, how many
redheaded Stillmans could there be in LA?
My questions were soon answered when footsteps pounded on the floor, the sound getting
closer and closer, and I craned my neck, trying to see who was making the noise. My jaw
literally dropped (okay, maybe not to the floor, but just a few inches from its original
position) when I saw Colin stroll into the scene as if he did it every day, carrying plastic
takeout bags from McDonalds, and called out to the doctor, “Sis!”
To say I was surprised was an understatement.
The doctor—Dr. Stillman, Colin’s sister—had just finished talking to my dad about check-
up schedules for my mom, and turned at the sound of his voice. “Colin,” she replied warmly
and when he was right in front of her he enveloped her in a hug, “I wasn’t expecting you to
come here so early.”
“Yeah, well, there wasn’t much to do at school so…” he said, pulling away from her, his
words trailing.
She took one look at the plastic takeout bags he was holding and made a face.
“McDonald’s again, Col?” she asked with more than just a hint of incredulity in her tone.
“You know how unhealthy that is. I’ve told you this before, haven’t I?”
“Oh, come on,” Colin said, grinning, “it’s just once in a while—” As he spoke, he glanced
towards me and my dad like he’d only noticed our presence right then. His eyes widened
when they finally settled on me. “Seven? What are you doing here?”
“I was just about to ask the same thing,” I said.
 Colin must’ve felt my dad’s intense gaze because he turned and grinned sheepishly. “Um,
looking good, sir,” he said.
“Cody Stillman.”
“It’s Colin…sir.”
“Same difference.”
Meanwhile, Colin’s sister looked back and forth between her brother and me, as if she
were watching a tennis match. With a small smile, she gestured at both of us. “So…I assume
that the two of you know each other?”
“Yeah, she’s from school,” he said and then turned to me. “Seven, I would like to
introduce you to the fantabulous Candice Stillman, the eldest of three siblings and an amazing
obstetrician. And sis, this is Seven Warrilow—a wild one, this one is—and maybe you
already know her dad, Mr. Sean Warrilow.”
My dad narrowed his eyes just a little tiny bit. “What do you mean by ‘a wild one’?”
Colin glanced briefly at me before replying, “She’s quite…vivacious at school.”
“Vivacious?” my dad said questioningly as he looked over at me with a cocked eyebrow. I
merely smiled.
“Of course I know them; they’re the family of a patient of mine. I didn’t know their names,
though,” Candice said, extending a hand towards me and smiling, “but now that I do, it’s a
pleasure.” I took her hand and shook it, offering her a grin. She shook my dad’s hand as well.
“Wait, your patient?” he asked, surprised. He looked over at me. “Who’s pregnant?”
“My mom,” I answered, unable to hold back a smile.
At first, Colin merely stared at me in silence, and then he blinked and said, “Wow. I
mean…wow! Congratulations!”
“Thanks. I’m a little excited, actually,” I gushed and then paused, rethinking if what I just
said was truly accurate. I let out a little laugh. “Okay, maybe more than a little excited.”
“I promise you, it’s going to be awesome! I mean, the more the merrier—right, sis?” he
asked, reaching over to drape his arm over his sister’s shoulder.
“Definitely,” she answered. “I still remember when Cass was born. You were like, what,
two?” she asked as she turned to him questioningly.
“Yeah, I think so,” Colin said thoughtfully and then quickly added, “Cass is my younger
sister, by the way.”
“Okay, well,” Candice addressed my dad, “we won’t keep you any longer. We still have to
eat dinner.”
“Yes, us too,” my dad said, smiling politely. “We better go get my wife. What room is she
in, doc?”
“Room 207,” she informed us. She extended her arm towards a certain corridor and said,
“Go through this way and turn at the first corner. She’ll be the third room to the right.”
“Thank you once again. We’ll see you next Wednesday at nine in the morning, right?” he
asked, putting his arm around my shoulders and steering me in the direction we were to go in.
“Right,” she said, nodding.
“Bye, Mr. Warrilow! Seven!” Colin called after us, “Say hi to Mrs. Warrilow for me!”
“Bye,” I replied, waving. When I turned away, I caught my dad staring at me peculiarly.
“What?” I asked.
“Your smile is so wide, it’s actually reaching me,” he joked, moving away and pretending
as if he was being shoved by some invisible force.
“Dad,” I said bashfully, “stop it, seriously.”
 “I’m just kidding,” he said, reaching over and ruffling my hair.
We reached the corner Candice mentioned, but before we turned off, I looked back one last
time. Colin and Candice were still standing there, but Candice was now nudging him at the
side with her elbow and saying something I couldn’t hear. He replied with an irritated look,
but I noticed that his face was slightly red.
My dad and I took another step forward and then they were gone from my sight.

***

Date: March 26, 2013

Early the next morning, earlier than I would’ve preferred on my first day of spring break, I sat
shotgun to our car while the rain crashed down. I dipped my chin deeper into my scarf,
seeking warmth from its soft, thick fabric. I gripped my phone with cold fingers and reread
the message I’d typed there for the umpteenth time: Happy birthday, Colin! :)
I’d known it was Colin’s birthday the moment I snapped my eyes open this morning.
Actually, no, I knew it days before, a week even, but I’d pushed it to the farthest corners of
my mind.
But now that it was here, I was torn between sending him a greeting or waiting until I saw
him at detention—which was where I was headed to now, unfortunately. I bit my lip, hard,
and my thumb hovered reluctantly over the SEND button.
Why is it so hard to send a stupid message? I thought to myself irritably. It’s just Colin.
It’s just his birthday. Who cares?
I took a deep, deep breath. Forget it. I could always say it to him in person. Greeting him
now might make me look like I was excited for him (and I was). Finally reaching a decision, I
pressed the backspace and dutifully erased the message.
“What are you doing?” a voice suddenly asked.
I jumped, having forgotten that my dad was right there beside me. Apparently the car had
stopped at a red light and he took the opportunity to lean across and peer at my phone. I
frantically hugged the gadget to my chest and murmured a guilty, “Nothing.”
He eyed me warily before settling back into his seat. “Really, now? You looked like you
wanted to drill your finger through your phone.”
“Really, Dad,” I said exasperatedly, deleting the message and putting my phone on hold,
“it’s nothing.”
We remained silent for a while, the wiper going back and forth across the windshield in an
almost rhythmic beat. And then my dad chuckled to himself, breaking the ice. “You know,
Seven,” he said, looking through the droplets of water on the car window, “I was just like that
when I was sixteen.”
I turned to him and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, back then, although cell phones were the rage, a few still preferred to stick with
letters. Your mother was one of them,” he said, reminiscing. “I used to write her tons and tons
of letters, just to win her heart, and I had to hide them from your grandparents.”
“You wrote letters?” I asked, snickering at the thought.
“Hey, believe it or not, I was a pretty romantic guy,” he said, looking quite smug.
“Fine, I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt,” I said, grinning. “But Mom told me she gave
you a pretty hard time back then. How’d you make her fall for you?”
 I really loved listening to my parents’ love stories. I loved listening to anybody’s love
story, actually. After all the heartbreak and deceit I’d seen and heard around me, it was just
nice to know that maybe true love wasn’t only found in books and chick flicks.
With a knowing smile, he leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if he was sharing a
secret recipe that might be the key to world domination. “I applied a little thing I call ‘reverse
psychology’.”
The light turned green and he looked back to the road, easing the car around the corner. I
caught a glimpse of The Book Station and Patrick inside, opening up the shop. Thunder rolled
in the sky.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s doing the opposite of what you planned to do,” he said. “For example, there was a
time that I was getting tired of your mother rejecting me again and again, and I just stopped. I
didn’t want to, but I did. Do you know what happened next?” I shook my head. “She went
after me.”
I gave him a dubious look. “Are you sure you’re not making this up, Dad?”
“Hey, where’s your faith?” he asked, placing a hand on his chest, right over his heart, and
pretending to look hurt.
I laughed.
We soon reached my school and I pulled out the dark blue umbrella I’d brought from
home. “Bye, Dad,” I said, reaching over and kissing him on the cheek before popping the
umbrella open and exiting the vehicle, “thanks for the ride.”
My dad waved goodbye and then drove the car away, tires crunching the wet asphalt. I
headed inside the school, folding the umbrella and shaking off some of the water I’d gotten in
my hair.
“Whoa there, doggie,” someone said, and I looked up from under my curtain of black hair.
Colin was stood a few feet from me, unbuttoning his coat with the hood still up, droplets
visible on the hard cloth. He was watching me carefully with a small smile.
I didn’t mean to, but the sight of him made me smile too. That deepened his.
“Hey,” I said and then added, “happy birthday.”
“Aw, that’s sweet, you remembered,” he said, grinning as he shrugged off his coat.
Underneath he wore a teal checkered shirt.
“Blame Facebook,” I said defensively, pulling my scarf off and trying to sound indifferent.
“But thanks,” he said, and I told myself that I was only imagining the twinkle in his eyes.
“Sure,” I replied.
We made our way down the empty hallway, unfamiliar with the lack of the usual crowded
bodies and noisy chatter. We reached the library where we’d been told to go to. There we
found Mr. Zach, the substitute teacher for almost every subject, sitting by one of the long
tables.
“Both of you take a seat,” he instructed us in a dull voice and I took a seat at the table
beside the one he’d been using.
“Hey, Big Zach!” Colin said, mentioning the nickname the students had made for Mr.
Zach, who was, as his namesake implied, pretty big. Right then, his button-down shirt looked
like it was going to burst, his necktie was stained with what looked like tomato sauce, and his
pants, when he sat down, rode halfway up his calves, exposing his matching brown socks and
a little bit of his leg hair.
Mr. Zach jabbed a fat finger in Colin’s direction and hissed, “Shut that mouth of yours and
sit.”
 Colin pouted, looking quite adorable in my opinion, and said, “You wound me, good sir.
And to think, it’s my birthday today.”
“Well, happy birthday,” Mr. Zach deadpanned and then rolled his eyes. When Colin took
the seat beside me, Mr. Zach said, “Alright, you guys better sit still and keep quiet. I’ll be in
the office, which is just across the hall, where I can hear everything, do you understand?”
Without waiting for us to respond, he turned away and squeezed his body out of the
doorframe.
I dug my hand into my bag and retrieved the book I was currently reading. Opening the
page to where my bookmark was, I picked up where I’d last left off. I was only able to finish
reading one paragraph when Colin suddenly got up to his feet and pressed his back to the
wall. I watched as he inched towards the purposely left ajar door and peered out.
“Colin,” I whispered, afraid to be heard by Mr. Zach, “go back to your seat.”
“Now’s not the time to be a good student, Seven,” he said, still looking out of the door.
“I’m hungry.”
“You didn’t think of getting food before coming to detention?” I asked him, shaking my
head.
He turned back to look at me. “I don’t exactly wake up earlier than seven o’clock just to
get breakfast, so no, I didn’t think of getting food before coming here,” he said, rolling his
eyes at me. He extended a hand to me. “Now, are you coming or what?”
“Me?” I squealed. “No way! I’m not getting into any more trouble just because you want
to eat.” I decided not to dwell over the fact that Colin was asking me to go out and eat him—
almost like a date.
Colin opened his mouth to reply, but then the sound of heavy footsteps suddenly came and
his eyes went wide. He sprinted to his chair and had just landed on the seat when Mr. Zach
poked his head inside the room and glared at us. “Didn’t I tell you two to keep quiet?!”
I trained my eyes on my book, not planning on responding, but Colin said with a whine to
his voice, “But, Big Zach, I’m hungry.”
“Well, suck it up, pretty boy,” the substitute teacher spat. “You’ll have to wait until I
dismiss you from detention.” He was just about to leave again when he sharply turned back to
warn us, “Another noise and I won’t be so lenient anymore, got it?”
And with that, he left.
The moment he was out of sight, Colin sprang up to his feet once again, but as he passed
by me, I reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?” I
hissed under my breath.
“No, because all I hear is your cowardice,” he told me matter-of-factly as he began putting
his still slightly wet coat on.
I scowled at him. “I’m not a coward.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking down at me. “If you’re not a coward,
then prove it. Drop that book of yours, stop dreaming of another person’s adventure, and
come have your own with me.”
I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. I knew I shouldn’t do this. I’d already gotten myself
into detention thanks to Colin, and I didn’t want any more trouble. I just wanted to sit back in
my comfort zone and read until all of this was over and I could go home.
Is that really what you want? my mind whispered.
I didn’t answer the question—both Colin’s and my own. I sat there for a while, thinking it
over, until finally I rolled my eyes and said, “Oh, alright.”
 As I started to get up, Colin pumped his fist in the air and half-whispered, half-yelled,
“Yes! Who knew I was so good at convincing people?”
I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. “We’ll just get some food real quick and then
come back, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever—come on!” he said excitedly and then reached out to grab
my hand. I didn’t have the time to digest the sensation of his skin against mine because Colin
pulled me towards the door of the library, his steps quick and light.
I was just about to tell him that we were surely going to be seen, but I glanced up at the
teachers’ office and found Mr. Zach leaning back in a recliner and reading a comic book with
a black pair of headphones covering his pink little ears.
He probably wouldn’t hear a thing even if some monk was standing right in front of him
and banging on a gong like there was no tomorrow.
Nevertheless I tried not to let my sneakers squeak against the polished floor as we raced
down the empty hall. Colin was dashing off like a leopard on the trail of prey, his long legs
easily carrying him across the floor, while I was just stumbling along after him.
But I had to admit that the feeling was amazing—the pumping of your heart in your chest,
the wind in your hair, and the bounce in your feet that’s almost like flying.
By the time we reached the entrance of the school building, though, the feeling was gone
and I was left wheezing like a dying horse.
“See? It wasn’t so bad, right?” he asked, grinning at me and not even looking close to
tired.
“Please…that was…nothing,” I panted, trying to keep up my smile.
Colin laughed and said, “Okay, come on. I know a convenience store really close by.” He
moved to open the door but I held him back by his forearm.
“Wait,” I said, “I forgot to bring my umbrella.”
“It’s no biggie,” he said, raising his voice over the roar of the rain as he swung the door
open. “We can share my coat!” He pulled the collar of his coat open and draped it over both
of our heads. I had to scoot in closer to him, our sides pressed up against each other so that I
could fit underneath. “Ready?”
I nodded quietly, suddenly forgetting how to use my vocal chords while I was this close to
Colin. We ducked out of our shade and into the rain. My fingers found their own way to
Colin’s shirt, gripping it as we ran. Our shoes and jeans got wet from the puddles but we
didn’t stop until we were at the driver’s side of the car.
Colin fumbled with the keys for a moment, and once the door was unlocked, he pushed me
in. I slid into the car and then hopped over to the passenger seat so that he could take the spot
behind the wheel. After slamming the door shut, he turned the key in the ignition and
immediately switched the heater on. My hands were numb from the cold.
“Next stop: the convenience store,” Colin said, smiling.
It was only when we’d pulled out of the school’s parking lot and my fingers felt more or
less alive, did I take in the interior of Colin’s pickup truck. It was pretty clean, but not
spotless as if it had its dashboard wiped three times a day. I’d been in other guys’ cars and I
knew a couple that were obsessed like that with their ‘babies’.
He had some schoolbooks littered on the backseat, and a backpack had been carelessly
thrown onto the car floor by my feet. I didn’t want to look into his glove compartment or risk
being called a creep but I did take a clandestine sniff. His truck smelled like—well, him.
As I shifted in the leather seat, I wondered how many girls had sat in the very spot I was
in. Maria was one of them. I remembered her asking for a ride from Colin during that party.
My stomach clenched at the memory of the party. I remembered Kiera and the game and the
fact that Colin had kissed her—
“We’re here,” Colin said, his voice breaking through my reverie. The car jerked to a stop
as he parked beside a blue Chevy.
He hopped out of the car, shielding himself from the harsh hits of the rain with his coat
again. He ran over to my side of the car and clicked open the door. “Come on,” he told me
and then I was right back underneath the coat with him.
We sprinted towards the one-story building with a glowing sign that beckoned us like a
beacon of light.
Inside, it was empty save for an Asian guy who sat behind a counter playing a game on his
phone, and a middle-aged woman shopping quietly.
I’d never been to this particular convenience store before but it was designed just like any
other: aisles stacked with bags of chips, candies, delightful snacks and other kinds of prepared
food. There were three refrigerators humming with life containing cold drinks; a side bar with
a hot water dispenser and packets of coffee, cream and sugar; and four tables high off the
ground, surrounded by stools.
“Go ahead and take a seat,” Colin said, nodding at one of the stools. I did as I was told
while he walked off to the aisles and took something I couldn’t see. He turned to the counter
and handed them to the Asian guy. After paying for them, he went to me and gave me what
looked like a red Styrofoam cup. It had some foreign words that I couldn’t understand and
was sealed at the top.
“Instant cup noodles?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said, taking his own cup noodles in one hand and grabbing my wrist with the
other. He dragged me towards the side bar and started ripping the seal off.
“But I already ate breakfast,” I said and then flipped the cup around to look for the price
tag, “and how much do I owe you?”
“It’s just noodles. It’s light on the stomach,” he said, tearing a packet of ingredients that he
found inside the cup with his teeth. He poured the contents on the dried noodles. “And you
don’t owe me anything; it’s okay. Oh, that reminds me.” He reached into his pocket and
brought out a few bills. He shoved them into my hand.
“Wait, what for?” I was more than a little surprised at the money he was suddenly giving
me.
“Think of it as my compensation for buying me and my friends’ lunch yesterday,” he said,
shrugging.
“You mean when I was your slave?”
“What, did you really think I’d make you pay for all that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at
me in surprise. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he emptied another packet
over the cup. “Geez, have some faith in me.”
“Okay, but what about this?” I asked, raising the cup in my hand.
He laughed and said, “Stop worrying already. It’s my treat.”
I didn’t have a response to that, so I just pocketed the money and took the little folded part
of the seal, pulling it to open the cup. Seeing as it was already paid for, I figured I might as
well eat it.
As I tried to mirror what Colin had done with the packets, I sneaked glances at him from
the corner of my eye. He was already moving towards the dispenser to fill his cup.
I was still hesitant on believing that he paid me back and bought me something—although
it wasn’t that expensive anyway—just because he was being nice. Was Colin being nice?
 I shook my head. No way. If he were being nice, he would hand me back the notebook. He
said that I should have some faith in him, but how could I when he’d been laughing at all of
my failed attempts to get back what was rightfully mine?
Speaking of the notebook, this was a pretty good chance to strike. But what plan could I
use? I’d been too excited over the baby yesterday to think of another one.
I pressed a button on the dispenser and steaming hot water fell in a steady stream into my
cup. I watched as Colin moved towards our table, holding his hot cup with the tips of his
fingers and blowing at the steam. When I was satisfied with the amount of water, I stopped
the hot water and started walking to our table as well.
Colin told me to wait for the noodles to soften before mixing it, and while I did, thunder
rumbled outside.
Just like that, I suddenly remembered what my dad told me about reverse psychology. A
plan, albeit a small one, started to form in my head, but I was still a little doubtful that it
would actually work.
“Okay, I think it’s ready,” Colin announced, stabbing his noodles with a plastic fork and
unearthing the spices that had drifted underneath. I did the same with mine and decided that I
wouldn’t know if I didn’t try.
I cleared my throat as Colin slurped the noodles into his mouth hungrily. “So, um, I was
thinking. You said the money’s compensation for the lunches I bought for you and your
friends, right?”
He merely grunted as he began on another forkful of noodles.
“Well, why not just give me back the notebook instead of money?” I asked, scooping up a
modest amount of noodles and slurping on them. It was hot and the ingredients we’d poured
made it spicy, but it was delicious.
He bit on the noodles to cut them off and laughed as he chewed. “Because I’m not ready to
give it back,” he said simply.
“What! Why?” I asked. I felt the blood drain from my face. “Don’t tell me—are you
copying the secrets I wrote in there?”
Colin looked horrified that I’d even suggested it. “No! I wouldn’t do that,” he said, shaking
his head. “I’m just…waiting to see what other plans you have left.” With a naughty smirk, he
turned back to his noodles.
Here comes the drama, I thought as I scowled at him. “You know what? Forget it. I’m
tired of—of this stupid sick game that you’re playing on me. You can have the notebook if
you want it so much.” I looked away and focused on eating my noodles, drinking the soup
angrily—if there was an angry way of drinking soup, and waited for Colin to call my bluff, to
say that he would keep the black notebook to himself.
But to my shock and relief, Colin snapped his head towards me and asked, “Wait, what?
Why?”
I fought the urge to grin. It worked! It actually worked!
I narrowed my eyes in an attempt to glare at Colin. “Why do you think? It doesn’t look
like you’ll be giving it back to me anyway. No matter what plans I try to come up with, you’ll
always just overthrow them and laugh at my face.” I tried to play the victim card, and from
the worried look on Colin’s face, the black notebook was practically already in my hands.
I could taste sweet, sweet victory.
“Seven,” Colin said, reaching out to touch my forearm. “You’re not serious, are you?”
 It was pretty hard to think properly with his hand on my arm like that, but I did my best by
deepening my scowl. “Of course I am! I’m not like you, Colin. I don’t always make fun of
everything.” I rolled my eyes for good measure.
Colin opened his mouth, perhaps to apologize or admit defeat. I never knew because
suddenly he just stopped, as if he realized something. Seconds ticked by and my stomach
twisted into a knot when he still wasn’t cowering in defeat like I expected him to. And then
his lips curled into a smile as he said, “Okay.”
My head turned so fast that I heard my bones cracking. “Say what?”
“You don’t want your black notebook anymore? Fine,” he said, shrugging as if it couldn’t
be helped, “but don’t eat your words later on.”
“No! Wait, I-I-I take it back!” I quickly stammered, waving my hands around.
Colin burst into manic laughter. He went on for a while like that, clutching his stomach
and slamming his fist on the table while my face turned redder and redder each time. He was
making so much noise in the now empty store that the Asian guy gave us a dirty look.
When he was done, he wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye and chuckled. “Whew, that
was a good laugh.”
“I hate you so much right now,” I grumbled, frowning.
He laughed and ruffled my hair playfully, saying, “I love you too.”
Those four words made me freeze, the frown disappearing like vapor. Did he really just
say that?
I slowly raised my head. Colin still had his hand in my hair but he’d stopped mussing it.
He just sat there, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes wide. It lasted for only a second, and
in the next he was grinning and returning to his cup noodles. It was so quick that I almost
convinced myself that I was just imagining things.
I turned back to my own cup noodles and busied myself with filling my mouth. I tried not
to think about what he’d just said, but every time my mind replayed the scene my cheeks
grew hotter. I drank the soup quicker, the burning in my throat distracting me from already
distracting thoughts.
After several intakes of the soup, I was starting to think that I’d transformed into a dragon
or something. I was practically spewing coals. “Colin, so…hot,” I coughed.
“That’s what she said,” he coughed back, tears welling up in his eyes. “First one to finish
wins. Loser buys the water.”
I shook my head. I didn’t think I could take another spoonful.
“Come on,” he said, fanning himself with his hand, “we have to get back anyways.
Ready?”
It looked like he wouldn’t let me out of this one so I closed my eyes and nodded weakly.
“Go!” he rasped and practically dove towards his cup noodles. I frantically scooped up all
the noodles at the very bottom of the cup and chewed them as fast as I could. I cut a glance
towards Colin and saw him hurriedly drinking the soup with his spoon, the reddish liquid
decreasing at an incredible rate.
Maybe it was some kind of competitive bone that I didn’t know I had in my body, but I
knew I wasn’t going to let him win.
I threw the spoon down on the table and took the cup with two hands, bringing the brim to
my mouth. I chugged on the remaining soup, each gulp feeling like I was swallowing fire.
I slammed the cup on the table with a bang and took a deep breath. I was done! I turned to
Colin, expecting to see him giving me a smug smile and tease me for being such a loser, but I
was surprised to see him still struggling to finish his cup noodles.
 “I won…I actually won!” I exclaimed. I knew it was only a small petty challenge but it felt
nice to win against Colin for once. I hopped off the stool and did a little victory dance. “I
won! Oh yeah, I won! In your face, Colin!”
Colin watched me from his seat, his chin propped against his fist. “Yes, it is in my face,”
he said, smiling. He almost seemed satisfied. With a chuckle, he got off the stool. “I’ll go buy
the water.”
I was a little bummed that he wasn’t sulking like a spoilt child, but I wasn’t going to let
him rain on my parade. Once I got the bottle of water in my hands, I downed its contents in
record time, the cool liquid washing out the spice and soothing my throat.
“Alright, we need to ditch this place,” Colin said, pointing to the silver clock above the
doors. It showed that we had half an hour of detention left.
We threw away the now empty cups and left the premises. I wasn’t quite sure, but I
thought I heard the Asian guy sigh, “Finally.”
It wasn’t raining outside anymore so I didn’t have to share a coat with Colin, sadly. When
we’d both climbed into the truck, he turned to me and asked, “So. Any regrets?”
I shook my head with a satisfied smile. “Nope,” I said, twisting my neck to look over at
him, “I actually had fun.”
Colin grinned at my answer and ran his tongue over his lips as he looked away, preparing
to drive the car out of there.
It was the truth. Although, yes, I wasn’t able to get the black notebook back again, I
definitely couldn’t say that I’d wasted my morning. I also couldn’t say that I’d bored myself
to death, which I probably would’ve if I’d chosen to stay behind at school.
It only took a little while for us to get back at school. We burst through the entrance of the
building and ran down the hallways, only slowing down when we were near the library. We
skidded to a halt and Colin craned his neck to check on Big Zach. He gestured to me that
everything was clear, and then we both tiptoed back into the room.
I slid into my seat and took my abandoned book while Colin buried his face in his arms,
pretending to have slept the entire time.
After a few minutes, I heard Big Zach yawn from the other room. Something creaked and
after a nasty sneeze, he hobbled into the room, the fingers clutching his comic book now
stained with cheesy powder. “Alright, you guys are dismissed,” he announced and, without
waiting for our response, walked back to the teachers’ office.
“That was close,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my still pounding heart when I knew he
was out of earshot.
“Not close enough,” Colin said, chuckling under his breath as he shouldered his backpack
and started to get up. Something went ding! and he immediately shoved his hand into his
pocket to pull out his phone.
As he stared at the screen, he said, “Oh, I’ve got to go. You’re going to be okay after this?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, slowly backing out of the room.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, looking at his phone and rolling his eyes, “maybe you’ll
manipulate the cab driver with your say-one-thing-mean-the-other trick just so that you can
get a smaller fee. You never know—maybe he won’t figure it out as fast as I did.” He tried
and failed to stifle his snickers.
It took me a minute to understand what he was getting at, and when I finally did, I was
having a pretty hard time trying not to throw my book at his head right then and there.
I didn’t think that joke needed a reply so, I clenched my jaw, turned on my heels, and
started making my way out of there. Colin didn’t go after me—not that I was expecting him
to—but I heard his laugh echo in the empty hallway. He called after me, “If it makes you feel
any better, you helped make today the best birthday for me!”
That would’ve normally made me giddy with happiness. But right then, I didn’t care. I
walked away fuming, both at the fact that Colin was rubbing it in my face that I’d failed
pathetically—which I was already aware of without any of his help—and at myself. Birthday
boy or not, he was a jerk. I was supposed to hate him.
So why didn’t I?
 Entry 11: Well, That Didn’t Go As Planned

Date: April 3, 2013

A week later, I was seated by the dining table at my cousins’ house, watching April and May
finish another episode of Adventure Time. Nate was sitting on the couch between the two of
them, being the good big brother he was. As the theme song started playing for the next
episode, I heard the front door slam shut and the sound of heavy footsteps quickly followed.
Neil soon appeared into my line of sight and laid out a pizza box on the table. Nick, who
was sitting beside me with a book in his hands, merely flicked his eyes towards it once before
returning to the story he was reading.
All of us in the room were on our spring breaks, and seeing as our parents were all out—
mine were having a check-up with Dr. Stillman while Uncle Douglas and his wife were both
at work—my cousins had decided to invite me to spend the morning with them, at least until
my parents were back home, which would be approximately after lunchtime.
Although I would have preferred curling up in my warm soft bed among the welcoming
embraces of my pillows with a book in hand, I knew I needed to get out of the house
sometime.
April and May and even Nate wanted to eat on the couch while they watched TV, so Neil
went to the kitchen to get them some plates and told them sternly that they weren’t to leave
any crumbs.
Among the three brothers, Neil was the houseboy, the one who was raised to actually care
about what happened around the household. It was funny to watch him cock an eyebrow at his
siblings when they merely waved him off. He looked like a nagging mother.
I reached out and grabbed a pizza slice from inside the box. As I took a bite, Neil went
over to the chair across me and sat. “Well, this can’t get any more boring,” he muttered,
retrieving a pizza slice for himself.
“It’s alright,” I said, shrugging one shoulder, “but I still don’t get why Uncle Douglas
made the three of you stay and babysit.”
“Correction: it’s the two of us,” Neil said, gesturing to Nate and himself. He then pointed
at Nick, who still hadn’t detached himself from the book to take a pizza. “This one is as good
as dead whenever he reads.”
I giggled, glancing over at Nick, who I was sure could hear us very clearly, but probably
chose not to bother. “Well, he’s doing fine by himself,” I said, meaning Nate.
“Yeah, but my parents keep telling me that I’ve always been out these past few days since
spring break started and that I have to give time to family as well,” he said, “but they aren’t
even here.”
I shoved the last of the pizza crust into my mouth and licked my fingers. “That’s odd,” I
said with my mouth full, “they never told you off when you hung out with your friends
before.”
 Neil covered his face with both hands and groaned. “Well, I haven’t exactly been out with
my friends these days.”
I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise. “Have you been going out with a girl?”
Silence was the only answer I received, but it was enough.
“You have a girlfriend?” I asked incredulously, starting on another pizza slice, “And not
girlfriends?”
“Hey, you make me sound like a womanizer,” Neil said, removing his hands from his face
and frowning at me.
“Well, you sort of are one,” I said, rolling my eyes. “So who is she?”
He dismissed my question with a shake of his head. “She’s from my school; you wouldn’t
know her.” And then with a wicked grin, he said, “Speaking of romantic relationships, how
are you and your boyfriend?”
“What nonsense are you sputtering about now?” I asked, scowling. I had a bad feeling I
knew where this was heading.
His grin, if possible, grew wider. “You know what. That Colin Stillman you asked us to
kidnap just roughly two weeks ago. What did we miss since then?”
At that, Nate’s ears seemed to perk up and in the next second, he was disentangling
himself from April and May, and making his way to the dining table. “What’s this I hear
about Colin Stillman, the boy we are yet to beat up?” he asked, taking the seat beside Neil.
Not again, I thought, closing my eyes and groaning. “You choose now to detach yourself
from the TV?” I asked. “And I already told you before that you’re not beating him up!”
“On the contrary,” Nick suddenly said, closing his book and slipping a finger between the
pages he’d stopped at. He ripped a slice from the pizza pie and chewed on the edge, “I think
it’s the perfect time to listen in on this particular conversation.”
“They have taken you over to the dark side, haven’t they, Nick?” I whimpered. He merely
grinned.
“Don’t change the subject and just answer the question, Seven,” Neil told me impatiently.
“Look, there’s nothing going on between me and Colin, I’ve told you guys that before,” I
said, stuffing my mouth with some more pepperoni. “And you missed nothing since then.”
Well, my mind whispered, except for when Colin was going to kiss me at the party but I
quickly shot that horse in the face when I winced, and then there was when he made me his
slave for a school day.
But it wasn’t like I was going to tell my cousins about that.
It had been a week since I’d spoken to Colin and it had been that long since I’d thought up
of another plan to get the black notebook back. It was long enough though that Colin even
texted me the other day, taunting me and even asking me to try and get it back again because
it was starting to get boring without me bugging him.
I’d replied with what I hoped was a witty comeback, although, admittedly, it was kind of
lonely without him to bug too.
“Wait, so the guy didn’t make a move yet?” Nate asked, sounding confused. He glanced
briefly at Neil before shaking his head, “Dang.”
I shot him a glare and was just about to argue that Colin wasn’t going to ever make a move
because he didn’t like me that way, period, when Nick said questioningly, “I thought they
were already together.” He turned to his younger brother. “You said you saw them kissing on
that old red beanbag.”
The memory turned my face beet-red. “We weren’t even kissing yet!”
 The three of them turned to look at me. “Yet?” they echoed with equally diabolical smirks.
“That’s not what I—that came out wrong!” I frantically told them. They looked like they
would have believed me more if I’d said that the grass was blue. I opened my mouth to deny
it some more, but then I heard the united voices of April and May sing, “Seven and Colin
sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
I looked sharply in their direction and found them peeping over the back of the couch,
watching us with naughty grins similar to the ones their older brothers were wearing. I
narrowed my eyes at my younger cousins and hissed, “Eyes on the TV, girls, before you
regret it.”
They burst into fits of girly giggles before turning away and whispering among
themselves.
When I was satisfied that their attention was back on the show, I turned back to the boys
and lowered my voice. “We didn’t kiss and we’re not together. Can we just leave it at that?”
As I took another harsh bite out of my pizza, avoiding their gaze, I could hear my cousins
chuckling, but thankfully they did as I’d asked and didn’t push the subject—for once.
Our conversation quickly switched to a different topic, which I was glad for, as we
finished up our lunch. We watched halfway through a movie and when my phone rang with
my parents telling me that they were back, I got up, said my goodbyes, and left.
But even when I was back in the solitude of my room, thoughts of Colin still lingered.
Although memories of our near-kisses made my heart pound and a blush rush to my face, I
was still pretty annoyed at last week’s plan. It was ridiculous of me to even think that he
didn’t know what reverse psychology was, much less how to spot it when it was being used
on himself.
I glanced at the clock and realized that it was only half past twelve. Colin and his family
would still be eating their lunch.
With renewed determination, I knew what my next plan was. It was time to let him have a
taste of his own medicine.
I quickly padded down the stairs and told my parents that I was going out to meet up with
a friend. They only had the chance to call out a short, “Be safe!” and then I was out of the
door.
I walked out of our neighborhood and took a cab from there. On the way to Colin’s place, I
made a list of things that I thought probably mattered to him the most: family, friends,
sketchpad, dog, and car.
I crossed out family and friends since I wasn’t quite ready to kidnap groups of people for
secrets within the black notebook just yet, and I wasn’t all that enthusiastic about taking the
dog away, so that one was out as well.
That only left his sketchpad and car, both I could easily take once I found a way into his
room again.
I didn’t want to resort to breaking and entering again, but I was running out of options and
time. The longer the notebook was left in Colin’s hands, the more danger the secrets would be
put in.
It didn’t take that long for the cab to reach my destination, and soon I was paying the
driver his fee and stepping out of the vehicle.
“You can do this,” I told myself as the cab sped away. I took a deep breath before walking
towards the house I hadn’t seen, or broken into for that matter, in three weeks.
I spotted Colin’s pickup truck out on the curb. Perfect.
 I crouched low by the front lawn, hiding among the rosebushes in case any neighbors were
peeping out of their windows. I was getting closer and closer to the side of the house, where
I’d crawled under the window before, when I suddenly heard raised voices drift from one of
the open windows. I stopped in my tracks and listened in.
“…don’t have to go…stay where it’s close…”
“…I’m not a baby anymore, okay?” That last one sounded distinctly like Colin’s voice, but
this was the first time I’d heard him sound so angry. I wondered what was going on.
“…but you have to understand…far from home…”
“Yeah, but…it’s important…great opportunities…”
Colin seemed to have been talking with a female, maybe his sister or mother. Another
voice joined the party, but this one seemed a little deeper than Colin’s voice. It was probably
his dad. His voice was loud, almost shouting, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. After he
spoke, only silence followed.
At that, I knew I had to get out of there—notebook or no notebook. They were probably
having a family fight that I had no business with being involved in whatsoever.
I started edging away from the house, cursing myself for such a bad timing. My shirt got
caught on a thorn, momentarily delaying my escape, but I tugged it free. Oh well. I could
always come back tomorrow or the next day.
I was already out on the curb and standing up, dusting off my jeans where grass clung to
the fabric, when the front door to Colin’s house swung open with a bang, nearly sending me
jumping out of my skin.
I whirled around to find Colin climbing down the steps of his front porch, each stomp
making the wood creak. He stopped in front of his house, clenching and unclenching his fists.
He dragged a hand over his handsome face and released a heavy sigh.
I wasn’t quite familiar with this sight before me. Whenever I saw him, Colin almost
always had a smile on his face. At school he’d always be joking with someone, laughing at a
prank he’d managed to pull, and generally looking like someone without a care in the world.
But right at that moment, his eyebrows were furrowed to the point that they were on the
brink of meeting, and his mouth was set in a grim line.
He must’ve made his mind up for something because he let out a sharp whistle and almost
immediately, his dog, Lassie, poked her head out of the dog house and started bounding
towards him, collar jingling as she ran. He bent down to his left knee and gently touched the
animal’s soft fur, muttering something under his breath. The golden retriever’s tongue lolled
out as she panted.
Colin didn’t seem to have noticed me yet, so I took the chance to leave the premises before
it was too late. Slowly, I started backing away, careful not make a sound before he could look
up and catch me in the act, and think that I was eavesdropping on his family—which I was,
but that was beside the point.
Before I could even get two steps away though, Colin raised his head and his eyes met
mine.
Oh, shoot.
For a while he just stared at me, while I merely stood there like a statue. And then he
slowly got to his feet and made his way over to me, his dog tailing him from behind.
I swallowed nervously, wondering if he was going to turn his anger on me instead, but
when he was only a few feet away from me, his frown melted into a soft smile that, in turn,
melted my heart.
“And may I ask what you’re doing here?” he drawled, crossing his arms.
 Thinking quickly, I pretended to scowl, and said, “Aw, man, you got me. I was supposed
to try and sneak into your room again.” I figured that if he knew what I was up to and thought
he caught me red-handed, he’d think I wouldn’t try the same thing twice in a row.
“Well, if you’re planning to sneak into my bed as well, you can always just ask,” he joked,
winking at me implicatively.
I couldn’t hold back the blush as I murmured, “Pervert.”
He laughed, but I noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. “So,” he said, “I clearly remember
you already doing this before. Ran out of tricks up your sleeve?”
“Something like that,” I said quietly. I didn’t know what else to say, mostly because the
only thing I could think of talking about was what I had just heard. I didn’t want to impose
though, especially on something I wasn’t even supposed to know. I wasn’t even his friend. I
was just a girl trying to get something that was hers back.
I couldn’t find any other reason to stay, and I was opening my mouth to say goodbye and
turn to leave, but Colin suddenly asked, “Um, do you mind taking a walk with me?”
I hesitated, wondering what he could possibly be up to now, but after a moment of
consideration I nodded and said, “Yeah, sure.”
We walked side-by-side, not close but not that far apart either. Lassie walked beside Colin,
occasionally trailing behind to bark at another dog or chase her tail, but she always caught up
to us before we got too far away.
We walked in silence, not really knowing what to say. I realized that more than half of our
conversations usually involved the black notebook, but now that I wasn’t begging for it we
had nothing to say.
I wasn’t complaining though. I’d always dreamed of walking beside Colin with no
particular destination in mind, granted most of my daydreams involved us holding hands or at
least his arm around my shoulders, but this wasn’t so bad either.
I turned my head to sneak a glance at him and he looked quite engrossed with kicking the
pebble in front of him. The afternoon sunlight flitted over the rooftops and bathed him in
golden light.
I cleared my throat and asked, “So, um, do you walk the dog often like this?”
He shook his head without looking at me and said, “Nah, it’s usually my sister Cass who
takes Lassie out.”
“So why today in particular?” I asked, hoping I could get just a smidge of what had
happened back there at his house. I was curious, sue me.
He didn’t answer immediately. When he did though, his eyes were blank, as if he was
going back to the argument he’d had with his family a while ago. “I just felt like getting some
air,” he said and then turned to me. “Do you feel that sometimes?”
I inhaled deeply and blew out at my hair. “Honestly, I do,” I said after a pregnant silence. I
weighed my words carefully before continuing, “You probably know that a lot of people
come to me for advice and such, right?”
“Yeah…” he said, shrugging one shoulder.
“It almost makes me seem like a psychiatrist or something,” I said, chuckling, “I’m
actually thinking of becoming one but…ah, sorry.” I smiled to myself. “I’m getting off topic
here.”
“It’s okay,” he said, laughing softly.
“Anyway, whenever someone’s in trouble, I’m really glad to help, but after so many of
them kept piling up…it was starting to get hard.”
 “But don’t you just have to sit and listen?” Colin asked. From behind us, Lassie let out a
bark.
“Yeah, but…think of it like this: their problems are like chains clasped around their
necks.” I had no idea where I got the courage from, but I reached out and wrapped my hand
around Colin’s neck, demonstrating my words. Was it just in my imagination or did I feel his
pulse jump? “So they come to me and they tell me their secrets, their problems. I think of
ways to help them, but as I do it’s like they’re transferring those chains,” I said, removing my
hand from his neck and wrapping it around my own, “to me. Once they’re done and free, they
leave…and I’m left feeling suffocated.”
“And you have nobody to tell your problems to.”
I nodded.
Why I was telling Colin, of all people, I didn’t have a clue. I mean, I had survived four
years of high school and some of middle school without telling anybody how I felt. Why
now? Besides, I could’ve told some of my good, not backstabbing friends at school about how
I’d been feeling…
But maybe it was because he was the only one who actually asked.
Colin reached out and brushed my hair away, sending shivers running down my spine. He
took the hand I still had around my neck, and pulled it gently away. His large hand was
slightly calloused but warm. It reminded me of times during winter when it was too cold for
comfort and I would inch close to the fireplace with a blanket thrown over my shoulders. It
made me feel safe.
With a smile, he said, “Well, now I’m setting you free.”
My blush must’ve been as clear as daylight when I tried to be nonchalant and said,
“Thanks for that. I think.”
He grinned, and probably realized that we were still holding hands because he looked
down and we both slowly retracted our hands.
We had reached a familiar intersection where the cabs I took usually passed by whenever I
was on the way to Colin’s house. My house was probably just a few miles away. Colin
laughed nervously and said, “Uh, I think I should at least walk you back home.”
“So chivalry hasn’t died yet,” I said, grinning.
“That’s right,” he quipped, “I was even considering carrying you on my back so that your
delicate feet wouldn’t be tired from our long journey.”
“That won’t be necessary, but thanks for the thought.” We shared a laugh before easing
back into comfortable silence.
“But to be honest,” he began after a moment had passed, “I needed a breather…mostly
because of my parents.”
I did my best to pretend like I had no clue what he was talking about. “What do you
mean?”
He rubbed the back of his neck before confessing, “Well, I want to study architecture, but
my parents have been pressuring me to choose a college here in L.A., where it’s closer to
home. But I want to go to Chicago where I can get away and explore great possibilities—I
mean, have you seen the structures they have there?”
I watched him curiously. I’d seen Colin get excited several times at school, but as he talked
right then, it was different. I could see the way his eyes came alive.
“I only saw them in pictures,” I said.
“I’ve been in Chicago four times, most of the time to visit relatives during Christmas and
New Year’s Eve,” he said, smiling like a happy little kid, “but the buildings are amazing.
New York City’s got great skyscrapers too, but maybe I’ll go there when I’m done with
college.”
“So…are you going to force your way through it?” I asked, my stomach twisting
nervously. I knew I had no say in this, but I didn’t want him to go either. Chicago was really
far from Los Angeles. Call me dramatic, or whatever, but I couldn’t quite imagine spending
my last year of high school and the rest of my college life without Colin around.
“I definitely want to,” he said, “but I think I’m going to have to let it cool for now. I sort of
had disagreement with my parents a while ago.”
He was looking straight ahead, and I was actually glad he wasn’t facing me. At the thought
of him leaving, of him exploring out in Chicago and possibly meeting a beautiful girl there, I
felt my heart breaking. Tears started prickling my eyes but I managed to say, “Go for it. I’m
sure you’ll do great.”
I winced, hearing the crack in my voice. He probably heard it too because he spun around
to look over at me. I quickly blinked my eyes and turned away, laughing to myself. “But I
think you should still consider what your family’s saying,” I told him. “I kind of understand
their point.”
“What, you want me close too?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows, and I wondered if his
smile was genuine or not.
“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. I didn’t say yes, but I didn’t deny it either. I released a
sigh. “But you know, it’s nice that you have it all figured out.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, looking intently at me. Man, his eyes were so green.
“Well, you know what you want and you’re determined to get it.”
Colin chuckled and said, “Have you seen yourself while trying desperately to get your
notebook back? Yeah, you’ve definitely got that part covered.”
I pushed him playfully in the shoulder and said, “That’s not what I mean, silly. Like,
you’re sure that going to Chicago’s what you want. I don’t even know if I want to take
college here or someplace else. I’m not even sure about my course.”
“I thought you wanted to be a psychiatrist?” he asked. We both stopped at a red light and I
watched as cars sped by, tires grinding the asphalt and splashing puddles at unfortunate
passersby.
“Yeah, but only by sixty to seventy percent,” I said. “I want to be a lawyer, too. Sometimes
I even consider taking an I.T course because, from what I’ve heard, there’s a decent amount
of math in there and I wouldn’t mind that…”
“Okay, um…” he began, but then paused, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Fianlly
he laughed, saying, “Okay, giving advice to someone is pretty hard.”
“Give me your best shot,” I said, turning my body to face him and planting my hands on
my hips.
With a hesitant grin, he considered about his words carefully before saying, “Um…follow
your heart, but don’t ever leave your mind behind.”
“Are you trying to imply something?” I asked and then clicked my tongue in disapproval.
“I wouldn’t want to listen to someone who thinks I’m stupid.” I did it only to spite him, and
he probably knew it because he stuck his tongue out at me.
“Hey, I don’t mean it that way,” he said defensively. “Don’t just assume like that.”
For a moment, I wondered if those last words were directed at me with a different
meaning. Most probably for me not to assume that he would even have an ounce of feelings
for me. But I pushed it aside. I said, “Okay, fine. What did you mean by it?”
 “I meant that you should choose a path or a course you know you’ll love and enjoy, but
think about it first. Once you’re done analyzing every little corner of the idea, think about it
again.”
I thought about what he said and then I shrugged. “Hmm…not bad,” I said.
“You’re too closefisted in giving compliments,” he mumbled bitterly, but after a minute he
smiled.
The light turned green and we moved to cross the street, but not before Colin looked back
and called Lassie to come closer, just to make sure that she didn’t get lost in the crowd.
We talked about a lot of things after that, a seemingly never ending series of topics flowing
from our mouths as buildings passed by us, streets changed, and the sun started sinking in the
sky, unable to wait for us at our slow, relaxed pace.
Once we were strolling down my neighborhood, we’d already switched to the topic of
dogs.
“We had two golden retrievers before Lassie’s parents,” he told me as he casually bent
down to ruffle the dog’s fur. “We got them when I was, like, six, I think. Her dad died three
years ago and her mom the year after. We sold her siblings to our neighbors so sometimes she
could still go over and play with them.”
“How old is she now?” I asked when Lassie padded over to me and sniffed my ankles.
“Six years.”
“Will you be getting a lad for her?” I asked, smirking.
Colin shook his head. “Nah, my mom doesn’t want to. Even if my sisters and I were
practically begging her so that we could have puppies again, she said she didn’t want to cry
over losing another pet. She says that they’re like family.”
“I’ve never tried having a dog before,” I said honestly. “My cousins had one before—a
German shepherd—but it was already old and died because of a heart attack before I could
even walk and talk.”
We passed by house number 7 and then stopped in front of mine. “Well, this is me,” I said,
gesturing to the simple box with a roof that I’d known all my life as home. “Thanks for
walking me back. You didn’t have to, really.”
“Consider it as my thanks for staying with me and talking to me for nearly two straight
hours,” he said, offering me a lopsided grin. “I seriously owe you one.”
You can easily pay me back by returning the notebook, I thought. The words were already
on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t say them. I knew it was stupid, but when I stared into his
eyes, full of genuine gratitude, I decided that I didn’t want to ruin the moment with that. So
instead I said, “You’re welcome.”
We said our farewells and then I gave Lassie a soft, tentative pat on the head. She simply
looked up and panted at me. Her tail was wagging though, so I assumed that was a good
thing. Colin turned away with his dog and left, but not before shooting me a smile over his
shoulder.
 Entry 12: Plan I – Retaliation

Date: April 5, 2013

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” I said soothingly into the phone.
“What do you mean it’s nothing to worry about?” the phone screeched back at me, causing
me to cringe and pull it away from my ear.
“Delilah, what I’m trying to say is—”
“My parents and the entire school finding out that Mr. Lancaster and I have been having
sex is something to worry about, Seven!” Delilah half-whispered half-yelled on the other side
of the line.
I sighed exasperatedly. “Well, who told you guys to go at it in school?” I snapped and for a
moment Delilah was stunned into silence.
I normally wouldn’t have gotten mad at anyone coming to me for advice or telling me their
problems, even when they’d gotten really annoying already, but I wasn’t exactly in the best
shape that morning.
Being woken up by a phone call before the sun even had the chance to rise was one of the
factors contributing to it.
The other was that I was angry at myself for not getting a move on taking the black
notebook back and even choosing to hold off any plans for two days since I’d last seen Colin.
It wasn’t like it was because of my losing the notebook that Delilah and Mr. Lancaster got
caught—it was their own fault, actually—but I still felt guilty over the fact that other people
might go through the same thing she was going through right then if I didn’t get it back as
soon as possible.
Delilah’s voice cracked as she stuttered, “W-We didn’t think anyone w-would be at school
since its spring break…”
Apparently Delilah and Mr. Lancaster had been together for weeks now. At first I thought
it was only one-sided, but when Delilah found out that Mr. Lancaster was going back to
school to gather some papers he’d forgotten, she decided to drop him a visit. She was thinking
only of a brief make out, but it ended up getting way further than either of them had planned.
Unfortunately, one of the teachers had gone back to the office as well to check something
on their computer, and caught the two doing forbidden things on the floor.
I dragged a hand over my face and said into the phone, “He said he was going to properly
ask you out after you graduated, right? You were willing to wait for that. Why couldn’t you
wait before doing…you know, that?”
“We were planning to, but I don’t know! It just—it just happened,” she cried. “I am so
dead. I’m never going to graduate after this mess and my parents won’t trust me with
anything anymore and—”
“Delilah,” I sighed, “calm down. Breathe.” The girl had asthma, for goodness’ sake. I
heard short quick intakes of breath and then the sound of an inhaler.
 “Right, I’m sorry, Seven,” Delilah told me, her voice wavering, “it’s just—I thought I had
everything in control but it’s all slipping through my fingers. I wish time would just stop…”
“Look, Delilah, I’m pretty sure you already know this,” I said, “but all of us make mistakes
and mistakes have consequences. Your little slip-up may be bigger than others but you can
get through this. It won’t be okay now but after a little while, everything will fall into place.”
“I-I know…” Delilah sobbed. “Thanks, Seven. I just…I just needed to talk to somebody
because I’m seriously freaking out right now.”
“You know what I suggest? Tell your parents now before somebody else informs them.
It’ll lessen the damage, even if just by a little bit.”
I could almost hear her nodding through the phone. She sniffed. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do that.
Thank you so much. I’m sorry. Bye.” And then she hung up.
For a moment I just sat there, Delilah’s wails echoing through my head.
Two days are more than enough, I decided as I dropped the phone on the bed.
I hopped out of the blanket tangled around my legs and dashed to my closet, rummaging
for a fresh set of clothes. My mind was set on doing one thing and one thing only: getting the
notebook back—now more than ever.
Yes, it was undeniable that, despite the fact that the notebook had already been in Colin’s
possession for a month now, none of its secrets had leaked. And I would definitely know if
that had happened because then there would be tons of people at my door with pitchforks and
torches demanding my head.
Okay, maybe that was a little exaggeration but still.
I had pondered over this for the past few days, and even considered stopping this pointless
chase after something that Colin wasn’t planning on giving back.
But after hearing Delilah’s cries just a few seconds ago, I knew that I couldn’t live with
myself if anyone’s life was ruined just because I was getting tired of begging for the
notebook.
I would have to continue with Plan I, which was to steal the things that mattered to him
just as he stole what mattered to me.
Pathetic, wasn’t it? I mean, I had heard of people creating Plan A until at most C, but Plan
I?
I shook my head at myself and headed to the shower. Once I was pink and squeaky clean, I
went downstairs to tell my parents that I was leaving. I found them by the kitchen sink,
playing a tug-of-war with the cup that Mom usually used to pour water into the coffeemaker.
Ever since we’d found out that my mom was pregnant, my dad had insisted on helping out
in the house. She was totally fine with cleaning the house, but when he mentioned the
kitchen…well, let’s just say my mom doesn’t want anybody near enough to mess up her
precious kitchen.
She had immediately denied his offer, but Dad would still try to cook something up for
dinner or prepare a healthy snack whenever she turned her attention away.
And from what I could see, it looked like he was at it again.
“Honey, honestly, I won’t even break a sweat! Let me—just let me do this!” my mom
begged him, her vice-like grip around the cup, trying not to spill the water inside.
“It’s fine, Julie! Sit down. I’ve got this,” my dad tried to sound calm and in control but
even he was having a hard time prying the cup from Mom’s fingers.
I stared at them for a couple of minutes, mouth agape and eyebrow raised. I cleared my
throat and asked, “Um, guys?”
“Good morning, Seven,” they both said without even sparing me a glance.
 “I’m heading out to meet with a friend. I’ll be back for lunch, so don’t mind me and just
continue…uh, whatever you guys are doing,” I said awkwardly. I turned on my heels and
started to leave.
“Okay!” they called after me, but even though my back was facing them, I bet they didn’t
even break off from their let-go-of-the-cup-and-no-one-gets-hurt stares. I wouldn’t be
surprised if they pulled on some ninja moves while I was gone.
I edged around the familiar crack outside of our house and jogged out of my neighborhood.
An elderly couple was strolling by, but I sped past before they could stop me and say hello. I
caught a cab at the corner of The Book Station and recited Colin’s address like something I’d
memorized in school.
As I waited for the cab to reach my destination, the adrenaline and determination that I
might have felt a little while ago started to drain out. I wondered, not for the first time, if I
would stumble upon another family fight, and part of me wanted to tell the driver to turn back
the way we’d come.
Maybe I was just paranoid from Delilah’s call. The secrets were safe, so far. And Colin
wasn’t a bad guy. Maybe he took things little too far, but he wasn’t cruel.
I remembered the way he’d smiled as he told me: Well, now I’m setting you free.
He wouldn’t spread the secrets. He wouldn’t do such a thing…would he?
I bit my cheeks worriedly and chewed on them the rest of the way. By the time I reached
Colin’s house, it was a miracle I hadn’t drilled any holes through them. They hurt and felt
kind of raw, though, but I ignored it as I paid the driver and stepped out of the cab.
I looked up to see that Colin’s pale blue pickup truck was where I last saw it, out on the
curb, almost as if it was just asking someone to take it…
I walked casually towards their front yard and crouched once I reached the rosebushes. I
dragged myself on my elbows and knees, trying not to sneeze when the grass was tickling my
nose. Once I was under the shade of the house, I paused to listen for any sound, ready to bolt
if I heard even a vague sense of an argument going on.
But the only thing I could hear was the distant sound of the TV. I almost wished there was
an argument.
I kept as close to the house wall as I could and inched towards the tree I’d climbed before.
I was just getting to the roots when I spotted the doghouse and Lassie, who was just sitting
there, staring at me.
Uh-oh.
I reached up and pressed a finger to my mouth, hoping she’d get the message. She simply
stared back at me with her brown eyes, tongue lolled.
I silently begged for her to keep quiet as I took a slow crawl forward, but just when I
thought that the dog wouldn’t be a problem, she freaking barked. Three times.
I was a dead man.
Or maybe a dead girl would be more accurate.
I quickly scuttled back to the house wall just in time as the window above my head slid
open and a girl’s voice said, “Lassie? What’s wrong, girl?”
Fortunately, the girl didn’t notice me just under her nose, but I didn’t dare glance up to see
who she could be. She sounded young, but that definitely wasn’t Candice’s voice. Maybe it
was Cass, Colin’s younger sister.
Across the yard, I met Lassie’s eyes. Nothing’s wrong, right, Lassie? Please don’t betray
me, Lassie. This is for the good of mankind and dogs alike. You’ve got to understand, I said
in my mind, hoping that I had an undiscovered power of talking to animals like John from I
Am Number Four.
Lassie barked again and then padded closer, close enough that she was under the branches
of the tree. My heart jumped up to my mouth, but thankfully she stopped right there and sat
down. She barked again.
Thank you, Lassie, for flushing my potential powers down the drain.
“Aw, Lassie, you’re such a cutie,” the girl cooed and then giggled. I heard her footsteps as
she walked away from the window. After counting down five seconds, I finally let out the
breath I’d been holding.
Not wasting my time, I hurtled towards the tree, circling it so that its trunk was obscuring
my small frame from the open windows of the house. Lassie sat beside me, looking up
expectantly with an innocent smile.
“Thanks a lot, Lassie,” I whispered, rolling my eyes. Lassie opened her mouth, and for a
moment I thought she would bark again, but she only yawned. I tentatively reached out and
gently patted her head. “I’m just kidding. Please don’t bark, okay?”
Hoping no neighbors were around to see me shimmy up the tree, I started searching for the
footholds. Climbing didn’t take me as long as it did before, but my muscles still ached
whenever I had to carry my own weight and I got a lot of splinters in my hands. Soon I was
balancing on the thick branch that extended to Colin’s balcony, trying not to look down.
Once I’d landed safely on the wood, I started crouch-walking towards the half-open glass
doors that separated the balcony from the room. I squeezed myself through the space, and as I
did, something stirred on the bed.
I immediately dropped to the ground, my heart racing. After a second, I carefully raised
my head and saw a long slim arm hanging limply on the bed.
My eyes followed that arm up to a strong sculpted shoulder, to outstanding collarbones and
the soft curve of a neck and then finally, to the sleeping face of Colin Stillman.
He was sprawled over the bed in only black jersey shorts, his lips parted and his long
lashes brushing his high cheekbones. His hair was disheveled, static making it stand up
against the pillows. He looked so young, so peaceful like that, his chiseled chest rising with
each breath he took.
Suddenly feeling like a creep, I tore my gaze away and quickly scanned the room. It
looked the same as I’d last seen it, just more drawings tacked to the walls. The black
notebook had to be here somewhere. If I could just find it now, this whole chase to protect
everyone’s secrets would be over. I wouldn’t need to execute any more ridiculous plans.
I began the quiet search in Colin’s room. I opened drawers and dug through his backpack,
every once in a while glancing back to check if Colin was still asleep. I went through every
nook and cranny in his desk, closet and shelves, and checked even under his bed but the
notebook was nowhere to be found. Where on earth was it?
I ran my hand through my hair and sighed in frustration. At this rate I was going to have to
go with Plan I.
I looked over at Colin’s bed again and only noticed then the sketchpad under one of the
pillows.
Of course you only noticed it now. You were too busy gawking at his half-nakedness, you
perv, I thought shamefully to myself.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I slowly took the sketchpad into my hands and
tugged at it. The weight of Colin’s arm on the pillow made it hard to get it free but after a few
more pulls, he groaned in his sleep, eyebrows knitting together. I froze, standing absolutely
and utterly still.
 But he just shifted his position and finally, the sketchpad was out.
The sketchpad had been left open at a page where Colin was still in the process of
finishing a drawing. The only drawings I’d seen in his sketchpad were of buildings and
sceneries but this was very different. My stomach tightened as I realized what it was.
It was a girl. She had long dark hair, wild and wavy around her shoulders where I could
see straps of what seemed to be a dress. He hadn’t drawn her features yet, so I had no clue
who she was, but part of me wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know.
I closed the sketchpad, heart sinking.
I assumed the keys on his bedside table were the keys to his car, that is, unless he had a
secret warehouse in an abandoned area where he slaughtered girls and kept them in body
bags, left to stink and rot. Yeah, not likely.
Slipping the keys into my pocket and holding onto the sketchpad with one hand, I swung
my leg over the balcony and began climbing down the tree. I had to balance the sketchpad on
the branches as I took one step at a time, so it took me awhile. When I was back on the
ground, I didn’t bother crawling out the way I came.
I took a deep breath and strolled out into broad daylight, pretending like I was a part of
Colin’s family and was just out on a walk. The more inconspicuous you seem, the more
attention you attract—I read that in a book.
But despite knowing this, my skin itched, feeling nonexistent eyes staring daggers into my
back. I continued walking towards Colin’s pickup truck. No one shouted at me or stopped me.
I opened the car and hopped in. Before anything else I did a quick sweep of the car and its
contents. If Colin didn’t have the notebook in his room, I thought perhaps he left it in his car,
but the only items I found were some schoolbooks in the backseat and a box of tissues in the
glove compartment.
I placed the sketchpad in the passenger seat, releasing the brake while I was at it. I went to
the back of the truck and pushed it with all my strength.
If I started up the car right in front of his house, the noise might cause his family to look
out and wonder how was it that the car was coming to life while its owner was upstairs,
sleeping.
I struggled with my stick-like arms, pressing the soles of my sneakers into the ground and
throwing all my weight on the car. It felt like it was only going at ten centimeters per hour.
You know what, scratch that—it was five centimeters per hour.
When I had finally pushed the car at least a block and a half away from the original spot, I
hopped inside, trying to catch my breath.
I turned the key in the ignition, feeling at ease when the engine roared to life.
I fished my phone and dialed Colin’s number. Normally, a thief wouldn’t leave any trace
of evidence that could lead to himself, but if Colin had no idea who’d taken his things, then I
wouldn’t be able to prove a point—a point that clearly warned him not to mess with me again
unless he wanted to lose a whole lot more of his things.
After four rings, he finally picked up, groggy and unsuspecting, “Hello?”
I adapted the most cheerful voice I had. “Well, good morning, Colin. How was your
sleep?”
“Morning…wait, Seven? How did you—” I heard the sound of something shuffling. He
must’ve been moving around in his bed, probably looking for his missing sketchpad. “What
the…”
“What’s wrong, Colin?” I smiled to myself. “Lost something?”
 “Yeah, my ske—” he started to say but abruptly stopped. After a tense pause he grumbled,
“Seven, don’t tell me…”
“Take a guess,” I said. I twisted around in my seat to look back at Colin’s house. “Look
out your window.”
There were incoherent sounds in the background and then, “No way…”
“Now come down. And you better bring the black notebook with you,” I instructed him.
Colin didn’t answer, but I could hear a lot of shifting around. A minute later, I saw Colin
run out of his house wearing only dark jeans and slippers. He was gripping a T-shirt in his
hand as he looked at the curb where his car had been, almost like he was expecting it to pop
out of nowhere.
I knew he was far enough that he couldn’t see my face all that clearly, but when he turned
and spotted his truck, his eyes practically pierced through the car to me.
Suddenly, a Dodge minivan drove into my peripheral vision and Colin immediately
whirled around when it honked at him. He sprinted for the passenger side and jumped in. I
could hear the voice of the driver from my phone, “Whoa, Col, are you trying to blind the old
ladies in your neighborhood?”
“Shut up, Ro! I’ll explain later,” Colin said to someone—wait, was that Roman?—and
then breathed into the phone, “I have no idea what you’re thinking, Seven, but you better stop
this before someone gets hurt.”
“Yeah, right,” I snorted, “say that when you catch me—if you can that is.”
I heard somebody, probably Roman, laugh. “Wait, Seven? As in Seven Warrilow? And
isn’t that your line, Col?”
I’d taken a few driving lessons from my dad since I was planning on getting a license this
summer, so I knew what I needed to do when Colin said, “Go get her!”
I dragged the stick shift back and stepped on the pedal desperately. The truck lurched
forward.
“Dude, this is a family car, not something you use to chase chicks—”
“Just follow my car!”
In the rearview mirror, I could see the Dodge minivan catching speed.
My hands were shaky as I turned the steering wheel, guiding the truck around a corner I
usually passed when I was headed to Colin’s place.
I switched the speaker on and dropped the phone to my lap. On the other side of the line, I
heard Roman say, “I have tons of questions to ask, but I think I can piece it up that Seven’s
getting back at you for something.” He laughed. “Finally, you’ve met your match.”
“Can you please just drive?”
As I drove, my heart thundered in my ribcage, partly because of the adrenaline I was
having from my need to escape, and partly because I was an unlicensed driver and it was only
beginning to dawn upon me that I was doing something illegal.
I was glad there wasn’t much traffic that morning. If I was ever forced to stop for even a
minute, Colin would be out of the minivan and breathing down my neck in a flash.
I didn’t speed up though, afraid that if I did, someone might ask me to pull over and I
would be busted. I cut a glance around, freaking out when I thought I saw a police car.
Up ahead, I noticed that the traffic light had already been green for quite a while. I
whizzed past other cars, catching up in time before the light could turn red. I got in the way of
a silver Sedan and the driver honked angrily at me, but I ignored him. I glanced at the
rearview mirror and saw that the minivan was stuck at a red light.
 I let out a celebratory whoop and said to the phone, “See you later, boys,” before ending
the call.
I continued driving, turning into shortcuts where there was a lesser chance of getting stuck
in between other cars. When I passed by the intersection that Colin and I had walked through
the other day, my phone rang. My eyes darted down to see that Colin was calling but I
ignored it.
A couple of minutes later, I was already nearing The Book Station, my chest loosening
with relief when I saw the brick building. And it was then when I looked at the side view
mirror and saw the Dodge minivan two cars away. My eyes widened in surprise. How did
they catch up so fast?
I yanked the wheel to the side, cutting around the corner and was soon driving into my
neighborhood. I headed straight to my house, and once Colin’s truck was right in front of my
driveway, I grabbed the sketchpad and the keys and hopped out of the car.
I had started to make a run for my house, but stopped short when I saw someone sitting on
the front steps of my porch.
For a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Brant. He sat there, looking lost as he ran
his hands through his hair.
“Brant!” I called out to him and his head snapped up. He looked pale, with dark half-
moons under his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Seven,” he croaked and then cleared his throat. He didn’t make a move to get up. “I need
to talk to you. Where have you been? Your parents said you were out.”
I heard a car door slam and looked back. The Dodge minivan had stopped a few feet away
from the pickup truck and Colin ran out of it, pulling the T-shirt he brought over his head as
he did.
I dashed towards my house, all the while saying, “Um, Brant, I don’t think now’s the
perfect time to talk.” I looked over my shoulder and saw that Colin was already passing by his
truck. I turned sharply back to Brant. “I’m kind of busy ri—”
I wasn’t able to finish. The next thing I knew, I was falling over, my limbs useless and my
vision blurry.
I was so stupid.
Out of all the times I had passed by that crack in the cement, I just had to pick that very
second to trip over it.
Luckily, before I could end up getting a body cast, Brant got up to his feet and caught me
in an awkward embrace. When I was sure that my two feet were planted on even ground, I
pushed Brant gently away.
“Seven, are you okay? Why were you running?” he asked, peering at my face.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m—”
A hand shot out and took my wrist, yanking me away from Brant. My back ended up
colliding against something hard and I craned my neck to see what or who it was.
Colin stood behind me, his red hair messy and wild and his green eyes lacking the laughter
they usually held. As he stared at Brant with furrowed eyebrows, they burned with something
that I couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“Seven?” Brant asked uncertainly, his eyes darting from me to Colin and back. “What’s
going on?”
“Brant, I think it would be best if you just came back another time,” I said, not wanting to
explain that I had encoded his and a bunch of other people’s secrets in a notebook, which was
why I was trying to get back at Colin Stillman, who, in turn, was the reason why I was
running for my life.
That wasn’t exactly something people would want to hear. I mean, they tell someone a
secret for the very sake of sharing their overwhelming feelings, not because they wanted that
someone to write it all down and get it lost.
“I just came to tell you something urgent,” he insisted, “I’ll be on my way once—”
“Alright, look.” Colin stepped forward so that he towered over Brant, and said, “Whatever
problem you’re having right now, you need to figure it out yourself like a man. Seven’s not
always around to help every last one of you. She has her own life too, got it?”
My jaw dropped at his words. I was pretty sure Brant was stunned, too.
All this time I’d always been the one who reached out and tried to help people from the
chains that bound them. Nobody actually bothered to turn back and ask about how I was
doing.
But here was Colin, speaking up for me. In a way, he kind of saved me from my own
chains, right? Well, he did say that he was setting me free.
A warm feeling spread in my chest at the thought, turning my heart into mush.
“Oh.” Brant’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment. His eyes drifted shamefully to me.
“I’m sorry, Seven, I…I never thought of it like that. I’ll go.”
I opened my mouth to say something but I ended up just closing it. Brant was a nice guy
and he didn’t whine in my ear like most of the people who came to me did. I didn’t want to
see him go, head bowed and hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, but I did see Colin’s
point. I wasn’t a Jiminy Cricket for rent; they needed to learn to solve their own problems.
He walked away, passing by the minivan as he did, and Roman, who was standing by the
open door of his car, asked, “Hey, you need a lift?”
Brant shook his head desolately and continued to leave. We watched his silhouette get
smaller and smaller until he was only just a smudge in the background.
Roman shrugged and turned to Colin and me. He grinned. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you
to sort out whatever just happened here. Nice to see you, Seven!” He nodded his head towards
Colin. “Whip him up good, okay?”
I had no idea what he meant by that, so I just said, “Um…yeah, sure.”
He looked over at Colin and using two of his fingers pointed to his eyes and then to his
best friend. “And you,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “I want details later, alright?”
In the morning sunlight, I could see a small hint of pink on Colin’s cheeks. He scowled at
Roman, who merely laughed and got back in his car. He started it up and after sending us a
huge wave goodbye, made his way out of my neighborhood.
The smoke fumes from Roman’s minivan diffused and disappeared, leaving only Colin
and me.
I glanced up at him. He was still scowling. I couldn’t remember a time when he’d scowled
like that for so long. I almost wondered if he really was mad.
Colin Stillman, the boy who never took anything seriously, who almost always wore a
bright smile on his face, and who never seemed to have any problems weighing him down,
was scowling and it was probably because I’d ruined his entire morning.
I suddenly felt like a terrible person.
I bit on my lip and asked, “Are you mad?”
He looked down at me and ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. I liked it
that way.
 “No, I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” I waited, but he looked like he didn’t want to
complete the sentence. He sighed. “I’m not mad, period.”
That made me feel a little relieved, but it was only short-lived because Colin continued,
“But it’s not like I’m happy about the fact that you woke me up earlier than I wanted to be up
and made me drive through the city after my own car.”
At that, I frowned. “It’s just what you deserve for stealing my black notebook and not
giving it back.”
“Okay, I’ve learned my lesson,” he said, the eye roll and his tone implying otherwise,
“Now, give them back.” He extended a hand towards me and curled it beckoningly.
I tightened my grip on the sketchpad and keys. “I’m only going to give these back,” I
declared, “if you give back my black notebook.”
“You know I can just call the police and tell them you took my stuff, right?” he asked,
raising an eyebrow. A devious smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.
My eyes widened. The police? He wouldn’t, would he? I’d been so worried about them
finding out that I’d driven without a license, but stealing somebody’s car? My parents were
going to kill me.
I had no idea what was happening to me. This hunt after the black notebook was turning
me into some kind of outlaw.
I thought quickly for a counter attack. “Uh, but…but you took something of mine too!” It
came out more as a whine than the valid reasoning I had wanted it to be.
Colin crossed his arms and smiled smugly down at me. “Do I need to remind you that my
family and neighbors saw my car moved from its original spot and driven away without my
consent?” I was about to protest, but he quickly added, “Meanwhile, you have no proof that I
took your black notebook. No matter what you say, they’ll just think that you’re accusing me
so that you can save your skin.”
I just had to be the worst schemer in the history of horrible schemers.
I looked down at my feet and studied my sneakers. I tried to think of something to say, a
comeback or even just a half-witty comment, but there was nothing I could say that could pull
me out of this one.
Scrunching up my face, I shoved the sketchpad and keys into his arms.
Colin took a step back from the force of my push and blinked in surprise at my face, which
was probably red with anger and embarrassment.
“I don’t get it!” I shouted in frustration, fisting my hands into tight, quaking balls. The
back of my eyes burned white-hot with unshed tears but I refused to let them show, much less
fall. “Why? Why are you doing this? Why do you have to play with me like this? What do
you really want?”
Colin didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t even answer after a little while. He looked like
I’d just punched him in the gut and I was so furious that I almost wished that I had the
courage to do exactly that. He opened his mouth to say something but remained quiet, for
once at a loss of words. The silence between us stretched for so long that for a moment I
thought he would never answer me.
And then he did.
“Would you believe me if I said that all I really want…is you?”
 Entry 13: Plan J – Spontaneity

Date: April 5, 2013

Have you ever tried having a dream so real and so vivid that you actually think it’s reality?
You know that the last thing you did was go to bed, that the thing you’re dreaming about
would never, ever happen in real life, but you hope that it’s true all the same.
And then that’s when you wake up.
Well, I was going through the same thing when Colin Stillman declared that I was all he
really wanted.
Except the difference was, it was the other way around.
I was really standing in front of my house. Colin was really standing in front of me and he
was really still wearing his home slippers. His pickup truck was really sitting crookedly just
out of my driveway, where I hadn’t given that much care if it was properly parked or not. And
Colin really did say what I’d heard him say.
It was all real…but it certainly didn’t feel like it.
“What…did you just say?” I asked, my voice squeaking involuntarily.
Colin swallowed, speechless once again. The morning was a silent one, the sound of traffic
distant and unimportant. My heart drowned everything out, steady like the beat of a bass
drum, but loud and overwhelming. It jumped when he finally took a deep breath to say
something, but he hesitated in the next second. His features twisted in pain, and I wondered
what thoughts could’ve possibly hurt him.
In the blink of an eye, it was gone. And a smile was forced into existence on his face.
Colin bit his lip, trying to hold down his laughter, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He bent
over, clutching his stomach and laughed out loud at what was probably me.
And I was right.
“Seriously…” he managed to wheeze out in between barks of laughter. “I…I can’t
believe…you…you bought that!”
I stared at him in horror and shock. Why oh why did I ever think that he would be different
this time? That he would suddenly transform into the Prince Charming I had always dreamed
about? When was I going to finally learn from my mistakes?
I gave him my best glare, trying to make up for my flushed face. For a moment, it worked,
but I didn’t bother staying long enough to see what he would do next. I whirled around and
stomped towards my house. I climbed the steps of my front porch and, once I was inside, I
slammed the door shut.
Almost immediately, tears welled up in my eyes and I swallowed down a sob. My mom
was probably still home. I didn’t want her to see me like this.
I was wiping my tears with the back of my hand when I suddenly heard the sound of an
engine coming to life and then wheels crunching gravel. Colin was already leaving.
He didn’t even run after me.
Why? a harsh, bitter voice in my mind pointed out. Did you actually expect him to?
 After one last swipe at my eyes, I dashed up the stairs to my bedroom, nearly running
directly into my mom. She jumped back with a soft “oh”.
I tried to sidestep her, muttering, “Sorry,” but she blocked my way.
“Seven,” she greeted me, beaming. “Sweetie, I never knew you had so many suitors.”
I was tempted to ignore her and go straight to my room, but she was still my mom and her
comment confused me. “What do you mean?” I asked.
She gave me a knowing smile, almost like I had some sort of secret and she knew about it.
“I was napping in my bedroom when a car woke me up. I looked out the window and saw you
with three boys,” she giggled. “Perhaps it is like mother, like daughter.”
I sighed. “Mom, those boys weren’t my suitors. One was here to ask for help with
something—”
“Oh, I remember! Brant, right?” she said excitedly, like she had the answer to a really hard
question in a quiz. “He seemed like a sweet boy. He looked tired though.”
“Yeah, Brant,” I said dismissively. “Anyway, the other two—”
“And Colin was one of them,” Mom said, wagging her eyebrows at me. “What was he here
for?”
I scowled at the memory of that stupid, rude, and overly immature jerk. “He…I just had
something of his and he needed it back,” I grumbled. More like the other way around, I added
to myself. “The other boy’s just a friend who gave him a ride.”
“Hmm, I see,” she murmured, giving me a look. I probably should’ve been worried about
what exactly she was “seeing” but I was too angry to care.
“I’ll be in my room.” With that, I turned away and started marching towards my door. As I
entered my bedroom, I heard my mom climb down the stairs, humming to herself.
When the door closed behind me, only then did I notice the aching in my chest. It was
probably my broken heart.
I sighed and strode over to my bed, sitting myself down on the plump cushions and pulling
my phone out from my pocket. There were the usual texts, but, surprisingly, one of them was
from Brant, sent just a couple of minutes ago after he’d left. I opened his message.
Wat Colin said was right. Im sorry for depending on u so much. I just wanted 2 tell u that
B and Minnie had a fight bcuz B saw her hugging me. Apparently she’s been suspicious about
Minnie having a crush on me for a while alredy. I told her it was nothing 2 me, but she said
that she needed a break, 2 think. I alredy knw wat 2 do. Thanks for everything.
I reread the message twice to be sure that I didn’t read it wrong. And then I typed a quick
reply: What will you do?
After a few minutes, he replied: Im going 2 tell Minnie the truth, that its only B for me. N
then Ill wait for B. No matter how long it takes.
I smiled down at the text. Gosh, she’s lucky to have you, Brant.
U seem to have ur own, I noticed. Colin Stillman…?
My smile quickly flipped down to a frown. Stop hallucinating. Colin doesn’t like me like
that.
Ok, watever u say. :)
Still frowning, I decided that I didn’t need to respond anything to that. I placed my phone
beside me and dragged my hands over my face, suddenly feeling very tempted to rip
something apart.
 Colin had embarrassed me far too many times to count, and this was the utmost worst. He
had hit a nerve—a nerve that had been foolishly hoping for the impossible, that he would ever
say those words to me, that he would actually mean them—and crushed it in the next minute.
He was going to pay. And I wasn’t just going to throw some wimpy plan at him this time.

***

Date: April 6, 2013

The very next morning, Colin Stillman was sitting at his dining table eating his favorite
cereal, while the rest of his family—excluding Candice since she was at the hospital, working
for half the day—munched on buttered toast and sunny-side-ups. He’d always preferred
sweetened grain accompanied with fresh milk ever since he was a little kid.
He was just slurping on it when Cass nudged him at the side with her elbow and said, “I
see you’re not skipping breakfast and running out of the house half-naked this morning.” She
snickered to herself.
She looked very much like her older siblings—the red hair, green eyes, and a certain
attractiveness that drew others’ attention towards them—but only she had the splash of
freckles across her face, much to her dismay.
“Congratulations. Now we know you’re not blind,” Colin countered, smiling blandly and
returning to his cereal.
“I still don’t believe that it was a dare from Roman,” his thirteen-year-old sister insisted.
“You wouldn’t have accepted a stupid dare like that in the first place.” Her eyes twinkled with
curiosity. “I think there was another reason.”
“Believe whatever you want,” he said nonchalantly. He knew that if he kept shrugging off
his sister’s annoying investigative intentions, she would eventually give up.
Of course, when he drove back home from Seven’s place yesterday he didn’t tell his
family that he left the house in only jeans and slippers and hopped into Roman’s car, only to
return in his own car because Seven had stolen it and his sketchpad from him. His father
would’ve probably demanded a meeting with her parents to talk about their only daughter’s
outrageous behavior.
He glanced surreptitiously over then at his father, who was finished with his breakfast and
was now reading the newspaper and occasionally sipping from his hot cup of coffee.
Cass pouted and turned back to her meal, muttering under her breath. His mother looked
over at him and his sister and had to smile.
They ate in silence, until that silence was broken by the shrill ringing of the telephone. His
mother immediately excused herself from the table to answer it.
As Colin chewed on his cereal, he couldn’t help but try and overhear what the phone call
could be about. The phone was placed only a few feet away anyway, so he could easily listen
in.
“Hello?” his mother answered. “Yes, it is…oh no, this is his mother…alright, wait.” She
covered the speaker with her hand and twisted around to say, “Colin, it’s for you!”
Colin raised his eyebrows in surprise. Who would call him at this time of the day? If any
of his friends would want to contact him, they’d call his cell. Maybe it was one of those girls
from school who were able to get his home number and were trying to make something
happen. It wasn’t like it was the first time that had happened.
“Who is it?” he asked, shoving one last spoonful into his mouth.
 His mother went back to the caller and asked. She couldn’t seem to accept the answer very
easily. “Um, excuse me, wha—what did you just say?” she stammered. “Oh my
goodness…oh my goodness…I’m sorry. Could you, uh, could you please hold on for a sec?”
She covered the speaker with her palm again and almost shouted, “Colin! You never told
me you have a girlfriend!”
Colin nearly choked on his cereal. Cass had to hand him a glass of water before he could
stop coughing. He took several gulps before asking, equally incredulous, “I do?”

***

Meanwhile, more than half a mile away at my house, I was standing in front of the telephone,
twisting the wire with my finger.
Through the call, I could hear a woman’s frantic voice speaking. It sounded muffled, like
the phone was being covered, so I couldn’t hear much of her words.
I had to smile to myself. My plan was already working. I knew that pretending to be his
girlfriend could easily go down the toilet if Colin denied it, but from what I remembered
when I last saw his mom, there was a chance that she would think her son was only denying it
because he was being shy about sharing his love life with his family.
There was also a chance that my pride and dignity would be ruined by my self-declaration
of being his girlfriend when I most definitely wasn’t, but what’s a reward without a risk?
Colin’s mom came back on the line after a moment, saying, “Hello? Um, Seven, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Colin’s here, but he wants me to tell you that…you should come over.”
I paused. Embarrassing him by claiming to be his girlfriend and calling when his family
was sure to be around was my main point in this, but going over there to actually meet them
was beyond anything I had in mind.
I pondered over it for a second. Although this plan was more for my own little revenge
than for the black notebook, I could still use this to my advantage. I could use the chance to
search for it while I kissed-up to his family. It would be like hitting two birds with one stone.
“Hello? Seven? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I quickly answered, breaking off from my reverie. “You know what, tell
him that I’m on my way.” I stopped, blushing and suddenly realizing that I was probably
imposing. I might’ve been on a mission to let Colin have a taste of his own medicine—no,
scratch that, I was going to shove it down his freaking throat—but I still had my manners.
“Um, that is, if it’s okay with you…,ma’am.”
“Oh no, it’s alright, hon,” his mother assured me. “I can’t wait to finally meet Colin’s
girlfriend. You see, he’s—”
I heard another voice in the background but I couldn’t make out who it was. Colin’s mom
sighed exasperatedly and I could almost imagine her rolling her eyes at someone. “Sorry,” she
said to me, “we’ll just talk when you’re here.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, okay. Goodbye then.” After I returned the receiver back
home, ending the call, I turned away from the telephone and started making my way to the
front door.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” my mom said, her footsteps coming in quick thuds. “And where are
you off to?”
 I whirled around and saw my mom leaving the kitchen with a towel rag in her hands.
“Nowhere,” I said defensively. I grabbed my red scarf and wrapped it loosely around my
neck. “Just out…to a friend’s house.”
She raised a dubious eyebrow at me. “You’ve been out a lot these days.”
I gave her a look. “Mom, come on. Weren’t you the one who told me that I should do more
things for myself? Go out more instead of ‘stuffing my nose in a book’?”
She winced, letting out a soft chuckle. “Did I say it that often that you would memorize
my lines?”
“Maybe a little,” I said, shrugging one shoulder.
“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, walking over to me and giving me a hug. “It’s just…I’ve
missed you.”
“We see each other every day,” I pointed out. “And we live in the same house.”
She pushed me gently away to look at my face and caressed my dark hair. “It’s different
from actually spending time with each other.”
“Okay, well then, when I get home later let’s put on some reruns in the DVD and eat some
pistachio ice cream,” I offered, smiling at her. “Deal?”
My mom grinned and nodded. “Alright,” she said. As I turned away, she called out, “Be
safe!”
I shot her one last smile over my shoulder before stepping out the front door and into the
morning sun.
I walked out of my neighborhood and caught a cab at the corner of The Book Station, just
like I had done the other four times I’d journeyed to Colin’s place. As I sat quietly in the
backseat of the cab, I couldn’t help but wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, feeling nervous
for the first time since this morning when I’d woken up, determined to get back Colin.
Now that I thought about it, Colin had invited me to his home. He probably had something
prepared for me there.
I shook my head and puffed my cheeks, trying to calm myself. This wasn’t the time to be a
coward. I had the element of surprise and all I needed was the confidence to pull this off.
Colin was probably caught so unaware that he wouldn’t even notice me snatch the black
notebook back, even if it was right under his nose.
After a couple of minutes, I finally reached his place. I paid the driver, but this time,
instead of walking over and settling into a crouch by the bushes, I casually strode towards the
house, taking each step at his front porch, and stopping right in front of his door, which was
the same dark blue as his roof.
I knocked three times and it only took a second before the door swung open and Colin’s
mother stood before me, all smiles. She looked the same as I’d last seen her, but now she had
her hair in a ponytail and a few stray baby hairs clipped. This up close I noticed that she had
freckles scattered over her cheekbones and nose. “Hello! I assume you’re Seven, right?”
I didn’t trust my voice not to squeak so I just nodded with what I hoped was a confident
smile.
“Well, come right in,” she said, opening the door wider and stepping back to let me in,
“I’m Carter, Colin’s mother, and you’re even prettier than I imagined you to be!”
I blushed and murmured, “Thank you.” My gut clenched, suddenly feeling guilty for
unintentionally playing with this nice woman’s feelings. Maybe she really was excited to
meet a girl that her son may have taken a liking to, and here I was, pretending to be that girl
when her son didn’t have any feelings for me.
I mean, he did laugh in my face for actually believing that he’d ever want me.
 Anger rose up in me again like a giant wave, crashing down and smashing whatever
hesitance I had then into pieces.
I gave Colin’s mom my sweetest smile. “And you’re so beautiful, ma’am. I can see where
Colin gets his looks.”
His mom giggled, pride shining in her eyes. “Oh, thank you so much, hon. I hope Colin’s
being a good boyfriend to you?”
“Yeah,” I sighed dreamily, “I just wished he’d show his feelings more often. Sometimes
you wouldn’t even know if he likes you as more than a special friend or not.”
She patted me gently on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about it. He’ll come around.
He’s probably just shy about it.” She rolled her eyes. “You know boys.”
I laughed. At least now she’d have a harder time doubting if Colin and I really were
together.
As she led me inside, I took my opportunity to look around. The structure was large
enough for his family, but too much for mine. The living room was the first thing I saw, made
up of a clean white couch positioned in front of a flat screened TV, and picture frames that
decorated the shelves and walls. A dark wooden staircase curved up to the second floor,
which was open for anyone on the ground floor to see. A row of doors lined the walls of the
second floor, one for each sibling, another as the master bedroom, and lastly, the bathroom.
The entrance to the dining room was just by the base of the staircase and when we passed
by it something by the low corner of the wall caught my eye. I bent down slightly to get a
better look. It was a faded drawing of a stickman with red hair and green eyes. Beside it
someone had scribbled colin in blue crayon.
I caught myself smiling, imagining a four or five-year-old Colin sitting there surrounded
by crayons, vandalizing and laughing at his artwork.
In the dining room, the Stillmans had a sturdy rectangular table, long enough for six people
to sit without having their elbows rubbing against each other.
Seated at one end of it was a man who had to be Colin’s father. They looked so similar—
the well-defined jaw, the high cheekbones, even the shape of their eyebrows—but most of all,
those green, green eyes that seemed to look right through you. However, instead of red hair,
he had dark hair that was cropped short.
To his left was a girl who looked like a smaller version of Candice but with freckles, and
was probably only a few years younger than me. I didn’t need to think twice to know that she
was Cass. Beside her was none other than Colin Stillman, my supposed “boyfriend”.
Cass was saying to him, “I knew it! You probably left half-naked yesterday to meet your
girlfriend.”
Their father shot her a look. “Cassandra,” he said sternly.
“I already told you it was a dare,” Colin grumbled, “and besides, how many times do I
have to say that she’s not my girlfriend—”
“Why, Colin,” I said, my voice making heads snap to my direction, “how easily you
dismiss our love.”
Colin sharply turned his head to face me and, the moment our eyes met, he immediately
got to his feet and took my wrist in his hand. “Come on, let’s go somewhere to talk,” he said
urgently.
He started dragging me out of there but I stood my ground and batted my eyelashes up at
him. “But, babe, aren’t you going to introduce me to your family?”
From my peripheral vision, I could see Cass laughing silently, trying not to fall off the
chair. I had a feeling I was going to like this girl.
 The corner of Colin’s mouth twitched at the word babe, but he sighed and turned to his
family. “Guys, this is Seven. Seven, you probably know my mom by now. This,” he said,
gesturing to his father, “is my dad. He sometimes looks like Mr. Gloom and Doom, but he’s
much wilder than you think—right, dad?”
His dad didn’t say anything. He didn’t even smile at what was probably just a harmless
joke. He ignored Colin, as if he hadn’t said a thing, and turned to me with a stiff smile. “Nice
to meet you,” he said. I smiled back and decided not to think about it too much.
“And this,” Colin continued, narrowing his eyes at his younger sister, “is Cass. She’s
annoying to the point of insanity, but she’s tolerable once in a while.”
Cass grinned at me, the smile reminding me so much of her brother’s own mischievous
smirk. “Howdy.”
“Where’s Candice?” I asked, looking around the room. I only noticed three plates and a
bowl of cereal on the dining table.
“She’s at work,” Colin said, attempting to pull me away again, “now let’s go—”
“Wait, you know Candice?” His mom raised her eyebrows at me in surprise.
“Yeah, my mom’s her patient.”
She gasped and clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh my! What a small world! And
congratulations to your family,” she said, smiling, “How many months already?”
I thought back, counting how many weeks it had already been since I last saw Candice.
“When we got her checked up in the hospital, it was already a month, and it’s been another
two weeks since then, so I guess it’s almost two months now—”
“Alright, you can all talk about it some other day,” Colin interrupted, tugging insistently at
my hand, “I need to talk to you now.”
He didn’t wait for any of the members of his family to reply and simply marched towards
the staircase, pulling me along with him. We were already at the third step when his dad
asked, “And where do you think you’re going with Seven?”
Colin paused only to grin devilishly at his father. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not going to
impregnate her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He resumed his trek up the stairs and I was glad to finally be out of his family’s sight
because my face must’ve been bright red. He started towards one of the doors and pushed it
open with the hand that wasn’t holding my wrist.
I looked around and immediately recognized the unmade bed and the scattered drawings
taped and tacked to the walls. It felt a little odd, though, to enter his room properly through
the door and not through the balcony, like I usually did.
Once the door closed behind him, he let go of my wrist and fixed me with an almost
indignant look. “What on earth were you thinking?” he demanded.
I crossed my arms and glared at him defiantly. “I was thinking that maybe you’d want to
know what it felt like to not be taken seriously.”
“By what, telling my mom that we’re together?” he asked incredulously. “She’ll never let
me hear the end of it!”
“Exactly,” I said, smirking. I turned away from him and walked towards his bed, trying to
see if the notebook was underneath his pillow or something. “What better way to get back at
you than to have your family annoying you about a nonexistent girlfriend?”
When I saw nothing other than messy sheets, I went over to the couch but only saw his
sketchpad there and a pencil case spilling out different types of pens, two erasers and some
charcoal. “But hey, don’t say I didn’t warn you before,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly. I
headed towards his desk. “It’s your own fault for not giving back…my…” I trailed off as my
eyes stopped glancing over the scattered papers and landed on the notebook.
“Yes! Finally!” I shouted in joy, taking it into my hands, and I was already planning a
victory celebration when Colin reached out and grabbed it. He caught me unaware and it
nearly slipped out of my fingers, but I acted quickly.
I tightened my grip on the notebook and yanked hard. Unfortunately, compared to my
hands, his were as strong and unrelenting as steel. “Just give it already, Colin!”
“Let go, Seven!” he said, pulling insistently on it, but I just pulled back. I shifted my hold
on the notebook and gripped it so hard that my knuckles were turning white. I was already
this close; I wasn’t about to let it go just like that.
“No! It’s mine!”
“I said let go!”
“You have no right!” I practically screamed, my hands, wrists and arms straining. “It’s
mine and you only found it! You’ve been giving me a hard time and enjoying watching me
fail again and again! I don’t understand what’s so entertaining about—”
I wasn’t able to finish my sentence though. In one swift movement, Colin cupped the back
of my head with his hand and crushed his lips aggressively against mine.
My eyes went as wide as saucers in shock, but as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, I
could feel all my fight slowly being sucked out. My eyes soon fluttered closed, his kiss
working like a soft lullaby lulling a baby into peaceful slumber. My grip on the black
notebook loosened and my mind was in too much chaos to think about where it disappeared
to.
And then, on the other side of the door, I heard a knock.
Next thing I knew, the door was creaking open and his mom came in, calling, “Why are
the two of you shouting? Is something wrong—oh my!” She jumped in surprise and her hands
flew up to her mouth to hold back her gasp.
Colin and I sprang apart, my face immediately going up in flames with embarrassment. His
mom was standing by the door, eyes wide. She placed her hand over her heart. “Colin!
Goodness, and to think that I actually thought the two of you were having a fight or
something—”
“Mom,” Colin said, sighing exasperatedly. I noticed that his hand was still planted on the
nape of my neck, his thumb high enough that it could trace the line of my jaw. Maybe he
could feel my pulse beating in quick thumps. “Relax. Seven was just about to leave.”
“I was?” I asked, blinking up at him in a daze.
He touched my cheek with such tenderness that I almost sighed contentedly, right there in
front of his mother. “Yes, you were. Now come on. I’ll walk you out.” He took my hand and
started dragging me out of his room.
When we passed by his still-slightly-stunned mom, I said, “Bye, Mrs. Stillman. Thanks for
having me.” I tried to smile apologetically, but I probably just grinned goofily.
She watched us go and I had a bad feeling that I didn’t exactly make the best first
impression. I mean, I probably looked like some needy girlfriend who only came to his place
for a brief make out session. Ugh.
He led me down the curving staircase, not even pausing for one second to let me say
goodbye to his dad and sister. He went straight for the door and as he was swinging it open, I
only noticed then the black notebook sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans.
We stepped out of the door and I sneaked a glance up at him, only to find him already
staring intently at me.
 He kissed me, I thought to myself and that was enough for my shyness to take over. My
gaze trailed away from his and I cleared my throat to break the tension. “Well, um,” I said
maladroitly, “I-I guess I should get going then.”
I turned away, not waiting for his response, my mind set on going home so that I could
think and rethink about what had just happened. But before I could even accomplish a full
turn, Colin’s hand tugged at my wrist. “Wait,” he said.
I looked back and then he was leaning forward, planting a short but sweet kiss on my lips.
I couldn’t believe it. This guy had already gotten my second kiss in less than fifteen
minutes.
Not that I was complaining.
He pulled away, far enough that our noses were still touching, and looked down at me.
“Okay. You’re free to go.”
This time when I moved away, he let go of my hand, and I hopped off the porch and down
his driveway. I glanced over my shoulder at him and saw that he was still standing there,
hands stuffed in his pockets, watching me leave with a small, satisfied smile.
I looked away, blushing, my plan and desire for revenge already forgotten.
 Entry 14: The Boyfriend

Date: April 7, 2013

It was way past midnight when I heard a knock. I stirred in my bed, sleep still reluctant to
release me from its clutches. I stretched and turned, causing the bed sheets to cling to my
body.
Another knock came.
I looked up, blinking at the sleep-blurred world around me until my gaze turned to the
window just above my bed. A shadowy figure was crouching on the ledge, its slim but tall
body looming over me.
Panic bloomed in my chest and I hurriedly reached for my lamp and switched it on,
bathing the room with faint light. Now I could clearly see who that shadowy figure was.
Colin.
I got up to my knees and slid the window open. “Colin!” I whispered. “What on earth are
you doing here in the middle of the night? And how did you get up here?”
He offered me his characteristic grin and expertly slipped under the sill, feet-first. He
landed softly on my bed, causing it to creak a bit. He twisted around until he was able to sit
cross-legged, facing me. “First off,” he said, raising a finger, “I’m here because I wanted to
see you again.”
I blushed and started picking nervously at my nails. He was wearing simple clothes—dark
jeans and a black National Geographic T-shirt—and yet he looked amazing, his red hair
messy and green eyes bright.
And there I was, sitting merely a couple of inches away from him, looking ragged in a
large T-shirt and checkered boxers. Not to mention my bed hair. Plus, my toenails still had
some chipped nail polish, which I’d half-heartedly attempted to clean off before I’d gone to
sleep. Ugh.
“You do know that we could’ve met up, I don’t know, when the sun is up and I don’t
look…like this, right?” I asked, gesturing to my attire.
Colin reached out and tipped my chin up with his hand. He looked at me straight in the eye
and said, “You look beautiful. And besides, wouldn’t it be more romantic this way?” He
winked.
It was getting pretty hard not to smile. “Yeah, okay, but how did you even get up here? I
don’t have a tree right beside my bedroom window to climb.”
“I was just getting to that,” he said. “Apparently the drainage pipe that runs along the side
of your house works just as fine as a tree.”
I pursed my lips dubiously and said, “Part of me still can’t believe that you went through
all that trouble just to see me.”
“Okay, you’ve caught me.” He raised his hands up as if he was surrendering himself. “I
lied. I didn’t come here just because I wanted to see you.” His features softened with a smile.
“I also came for this.” He dropped his hands and swooped in towards me for a kiss.
 I let out a surprised little yelp when our lips collided, but soon I was eagerly kissing him
back. He pulled me towards him so that I was sort of sitting on his lap. His fingers found their
way to my hair and I was just getting into it when I heard a shrill scream.
I broke our kiss with a gasp—
—and was confused to see my alarm clock sitting on my bedside table, blinking the time
and screeching at me, instead of Colin’s beautiful face.
When I realized why, I groaned and rolled over in bed to reach the off button on the clock.
It was just a dream, I thought with a sigh. I leaned back and reached up to gently brush my
fingers against my lips. What did I expect? Colin wouldn’t have made the effort of going to
my house in the middle of the night to kiss me, much less just to see me.
After a second or two of just lying there, thinking, I sat up and headed to the bathroom to
refresh myself. When I took a good look at the mirror though, I sighed again. The dark half-
moons hanging under my eyes were proof enough of last night’s insomnia, of last night’s
rolling back and forth, and the endless train of thoughts.
Unfortunately, no matter how happy I was when I got home, it slowly dawned upon me
while watching reruns with my mom, that maybe Colin didn’t really mean the kiss, just as he
didn’t mean anything else he said or did.
Just because a guy kisses you doesn’t mean that they’ve fallen head over heels for you. It
could just mean that they’re only playing with your feelings.
With that, I’d gone to bed with eyes wide-awake and a mind that argued against itself.
I spat out the toothpaste in my mouth and gargled some water. I cupped my hands under
the faucet and washed my face with a splash of cold water. Then I dried myself with a towel
before starting down to the kitchen, where my mom would surely be.
Our little bonding time yesterday had been cut short by dinner and Mom wanted to finish
the remaining episodes that morning.
As I entered the kitchen, Mom looked up from what she was doing. She’d been scribbling
on a piece of paper before I arrived. “Just a second, Seven,” she said, turning back to what she
was writing, “I’m just copying this recipe I found.”
“Ooh,” I cooed appreciatively. “What could this delightful meal be?”
“It’s fish fillet wrapped with bacon and sprinkled with rosemary. Seems worth a try,” she
said. She glanced up at me from the corner of her eye and saw me lick my lips excitedly,
already imagining what the food would be like.
She smiled. “Yes, I figured that would be your reaction.” She finally stopped writing and
dropped the pen on the counter. “Alright, that’s that. Now let’s go watch some—”
The phone started ringing and I snapped my head towards it in surprise.
“I wonder who it could be,” my mom murmured, walking over to it in quick strides. She
picked up the phone and answered, “Hello?” After a pause, she chirped, “Oh, Colin! Good
morning!”
“C-Colin?” I sputtered incredulously. Why on earth would he be calling my home?
Mom ignored me and smiled into the phone. “No, it’s alright. Seven and I were just going
to watch something. You know, a little mother-daughter bonding time.” She laughed. “So is
there a reason why you’re calling today? Do you want me to give the phone to Seven?” She
twisted around to look at me and winked.
I covered my face with both of my hands and shook my head. Oh, Mother.
From the slits between my fingers, I could see my mom’s face and the unmistakable
change that took place there. Her smile slowly melted away and her eyes widened with shock.
Soon, a gaping mouth was following suit. “Colin, correct me if I’m mistaken…but did you
just call my daughter your…?”
I raised my eyebrows. What was going on now?
“Oh my!” she squealed. “I’m so happy for both of you! I knew that one way or another
you two would end up together! I noticed it from the way you looked at each other, especially
Seven, she’s—”
“Mom!” I interrupted her before she could destroy what little dignity I had left.
She took the phone away from her ear and hugged it to her chest, as if she were cradling a
precious baby. “Seven,” she scolded me, “is it not bad enough that you didn’t tell me that
Colin and you were already together, you have to cut me off and—”
“Together?” I choked out. “Where’d you get that idea?”
“From Colin,” she said defensively, pointing at the phone in her hand.
I grabbed it without a second thought and bellowed at the speaker, “Colin!”
On the other side of the line, his voice drawled sexily, “Hello there, love.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, let’s just say that after your little act of spontaneity, my parents—and by parents I
mean Mom—were really glad to have met my girlfriend, although they were pretty bummed
that you left early. So now they want to have dinner with you and your parents. Candice
suggested your place so that your mom could be in her comfort zone, being pregnant and all.
If it’s all right, that is. We’ll bring food, anyway. Does seven-thirty sound good?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Should’ve thought about that before you turned into Ms. Daring and charged into my
humble home, huh?” he said. I could almost imagine him smiling his Cheshire Cat smile.
I felt like pulling out the roots of my hair. Plan J was turning into a mess. Sure, I’d wanted
Colin’s parents to think that I was his girlfriend, but I didn’t think they’d take it this far, to the
point that they wanted to meet up and have dinner with my parents.
I only realized that I was just standing there, staring into space and biting my lip nervously,
when Colin asked, “Well? I can’t wait all day, you know.”
I groaned angrily and said, “Fine! I’ll ask.”
I covered the speaker with my hand and turned to face my mom. When I saw her grinning
expectantly at me, I gulped. Oh dear.
“Um, Mom,” I started, “Colin’s parents said that they want to have dinner with you and
Dad…and Candice—um, Dr. Stillman—pointed out that it’d be better if they ate here so that
you could be in your comfort zone. Colin’s asking if it’s okay and—”
“If it’s okay? Of course it is!” my mom said with a tone that said that I should’ve known
that already in the first place. “Tell him I’m excited to meet his family. Oh, Seven, I’m so
happy for the two of you.”
“Yeah, I am so not telling him that,” I deadpanned, giving her a flat stare.
“I’ll have to get everything ready,” she said to herself and then rushed off, back to the
kitchen, our bonding time already pushed aside to the back of her mind—if it was still there at
all.
As I watched her go, I raised the phone back to my ear and was just about to relay the
message, but Colin beat me to the chase. “You don’t need to tell me. I heard everything.”
“You can hear us?”
“Yeah, well, you need to learn how to properly cover a phone. Oh, and tell your mom that
I’m just as happy as she is for the two of us,” he said, chuckling.
 I gritted my teeth. Once again, Colin had not only thwarted my plan, but he’d turned it
back around against me.
“I hate you,” I grumbled, although part of me—no, my entire being—knew that I didn’t
mean it.
“My, don’t be so aggressive, Seven,” he said, “I’ll see you later, anyway.”
I paused for a moment in confusion and then groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re saying
these things while your mom’s listening.”
In answer, Colin merely chuckled. “I love you too, babe.”
I scowled at the phone and slammed it back down, promptly hanging up.

***

Later that night, after I’d showered, perfumed, and dressed in my Sunday best (at my
mother’s insistence), I stood in front of my mirror, feeling weird.
I was wearing a sleeveless white dress that ended a little above the knee. It had intricate
patterns sewn in lace and was slightly tight around the waist but the skirt flowed elegantly
down from there. I paired it with black strappy sandals to make it look more casual and didn’t
bother with any accessories.
Overall my outfit was comfortable and, modesty aside, I looked nice. But that wasn’t what
was making me feel weird.
It was the fact that in a few minutes the front door would open and my mom would
welcome Colin and his family in, as if I was really his girlfriend and he was really my
boyfriend.
This is wrong, I thought and had been thinking for practically the entire day. I should just
tell them the truth. The question is: will they believe me? They’ll just think I’m being bashful.
I set this plan up too well and now it’s come back to bite me on the tail.
“Seven?”
I looked up from my reflection and only then noticed my dad, who’d been standing by the
doorframe of my room for who knew how long already. He was wearing a lavender button-
down shirt and black slacks, which were most likely forced upon him by mom as well.
“Dad,” I said.
“You look so beautiful, kiddo,” he said, smiling at me and walking over. “I’m sure
Colin…would be stunned.” In the mirror, I saw his smile waver slightly.
“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” I noted.
“No, it’s just…” My dad hesitated. “How long have the two of you been together?”
Uh-oh. “Um…I think two weeks or so?” I said, my answer sounding more like a question
than an answer.
“Was this after he visited you when you got your ankle sprained?”
“Yeah…” I said slowly.
“But it’s before we found out your mother’s pregnant, right?”
“Yeah, but does it matter?” I asked, hoping to turn this conversation around.
He shrugged. “I guess I thought that if he did have feelings for you, he would be the type
to hide them—at least for a little while longer.”
I pondered over it. Dad thought Colin might have feelings for me? “Well, maybe you just
got wrong.”
“Maybe,” he said, but he sounded uncertain.
 Sooner than I wanted, someone pressed on the doorbell twice and then Mom’s heels were
clicking against the wood downstairs. “They’re here!” she told us.
Dad sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me out of the room. “Come on,
kiddo, let’s go before your mom sends an entire army to bring us down.”
I laughed, albeit a little nervously, and made my way down the stairs. I took my time, and
when my dad and I reached the last step, the Stillmans had already been enthusiastically
ushered inside.
From where I was standing, I could see Candice and Cass, almost identical as they craned
their necks to look around my living room, a tray of food in their hands. Mrs. Stillman was
beaming, already making the introductions, while Mr. Stillman stood beside her with his own
tray, smiling politely.
And then my eyes flitted over to the still-open door and focused solely on the figure
ducking inside.
I knew that the last time I saw Colin was only yesterday, not to mention that I’d dreamed
about him and talked to him just hours ago, but seeing him walk through that door in a white
button-down with a loose black tie, it felt just like the first time I ever saw him—my heartbeat
skipping, cheeks warming and butterflies unleashed.
He looked up and met my eyes, and in a flash I remembered the kiss, my face flaming.
“Seven!” my mom called, waving me over. “What are you doing, just standing there?
Come over here. You too, honey.” As she turned back to Colin’s mom, my dad and I shuffled
towards the group.
“Hello,” I said, waving briefly to his parents.
“Seven! It’s nice to see you again!” his mom said, surprising me by engulfing me with a
hug. I wondered for a moment if she was genuinely happy to see me again even after she saw
me kissing her son or if she was just being sarcastic.
Nevertheless, I leaned away with a smile and then exchanged a short acknowledging nod
with his dad.
My dad extended his hand towards Mr. Stillman. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said. “I’m
Sean, Seven’s father.”
Mr. Stillman gave my dad a firm handshake. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I’m Morgan.
Congratulations, by the way, on your baby.”
“Thank you. My wife and I are hoping it’s a boy. I bet you must be very proud of your
boy,” my dad said, smiling. “You raised him well.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Mr. Stillman grunted. If it weren’t for the smile on his face, I
would’ve thought he was being serious.
What does he mean by that? I wondered, and from the confusion I could see in my dad’s
eyes, I knew he was thinking the same. But he just pushed it away and laughed, assuring
Colin’s dad that it was the truth.
While their conversation quickly switched to the topic of the latest political issue, I took a
small step back and found Colin standing right behind me. He peered down at me and I got
this really odd feeling in my stomach when I noticed how much taller he was than me.
“Hey there,” he said, smirking. Gosh, he had such a nice smile.
“Hi,” I said demurely, suddenly overcame by shyness. Seriously. After all the close
encounters and sticky situations I had gone through with him, you’d think I would be over the
jitters already.
“Well, Colin?” his mom asked, crossing her arms and giving him an expectant look. “Is
that the only greeting your girlfriend’s going to get?”
 Colin flushed, making a face at his mom, but she was relentless. After a moment, he leaned
towards me and left a soft peck on my cheek.
And just like that, my knees turned into jelly and any irritation I might have harbored for
him quickly disappeared.
Before Mrs. Stillman could add anything else, he produced a bouquet of white roses out of
nowhere and offered them to my mom. She took them with a hand pressed to her heart and a
teary smile. “Oh, Colin, you didn’t have to. Thank you so much.”
His mom watched with pride shining in her eyes.
“I already got the thorns removed,” he added, smiling like a little boy. That made my mom
laugh.
She raised the flowers to her face and sniffed deeply. “Mm…these smell amazing. And
they’re so beautiful. Excuse me for a moment,” she told us, “I’ll just go look for a vase for
these.” As she turned to leave, Candice and Cass walked over to Colin and me.
“Hello, Seven,” Candice greeted me. “I heard you were at our house yesterday? It’s too
bad I had to work then.”
“It’s alright,” I assured her. “I’m glad you could come tonight.”
“Yeah, but wow,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Colin and me. “You guys…are
together. I mean, I’d thought of the possibility but…wow.”
You’re not alone in thinking that, I thought, remembering my dad’s reaction a while ago.
“Hey, Seven! What about me?” Cass joked. “Are you glad to see me?”
I laughed. “Yes, you too, Cass,” I said.
“Well,” she said, “I know someone else who’s glad to be here.” She glanced implicatively
at Colin and wagged her eyebrows. Her older brother frowned.
“What?” she asked defensively. With a playful grin, she adapted her mother’s voice—quite
well, actually. “Is that the only greeting your girlfriend’s going to get? Hmm? Why don’t you
give her a kiss on the lips?”
“Oh, shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. He suddenly wrapped his arm around me, and heat
rushed up to my neck as he pulled me close to him, my shoulder poking his ribs. “I can kiss
her whenever I want and you, of all people, don’t have a say on that.”
“Alright, alright,” Candice said, stepping in between the two siblings, “both of you stop it.
You’re embarrassing Seven.” She turned to me and raised the tray in her hands. “So, where
are we supposed to put this?”
“Oh, right over here,” I said, using this opportunity as an excuse to leave the comfort of his
arm and actually remember how to breathe. I guided them to the long black foldable table
topped with a pretty crocheted tablecloth that took the place of our original table. It was only
for tonight, seeing as it could only accommodate six people and we were eight people all-in-
all.
They carefully laid out the trays among the other dishes already placed there. Even after
I’d repeatedly told her that the Stillmans were going to bring the food, Mom still insisted on
preparing her own. Now we looked like we were going to have a feast for an entire army.
Mom hurriedly came out of the kitchen carrying a dark blue glass vase where the roses
Colin gave her were already in water.
“Please, everyone, take a seat,” she told us as she walked over to the coffee table in our
living room and positioned the vase right at the center. She fiddled with the petals for a little
bit until she was satisfied, only then did she approach the dining table.
 My dad was already sitting at one end of the table, Colin’s dad at the other. I sat on my
dad’s left, right across from my mom. Candice took the seat between her and Mrs. Stillman,
while Cass took the place on her father’s right. And of course, Colin was sitting beside me.
“Wow,” my dad said in awe as he looked over the food. “You’ve outdone yourself again,
hon.”
“Oh, you’re just saying that because we have guests,” my mom said, rolling her eyes.
Mrs. Stillman laughed. “I’m sure he means it, Julie. Here,” she said, reaching over to grab
the pitcher of juice. “Let me fill your glasses.”
My mom handed her our glasses and then took the plate of smoked chicken. “Here you go,
Candice,” she said. “It’s alright for me to call you that, right? Doctor seems too formal for
this occasion.”
Candice smiled and accepted the plate from her. “Of course. Thank you.”
“Colin, you should try some too,” my mom insisted, passing the plate to him. He took it
from her hands with a small smile. “You know,” she added, “Seven helped cook that.”
“Oh?” his mom cooed, turning to me. “So you cook too, Seven?”
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “No, I didn’t,” I said to my mom. “You even told
me to stay away from the kitchen before I set something on fire.”
Mom shot me a look that told me to shut up, before flashing an innocent smile at Mrs.
Stillman.
I can’t believe it. My mother’s selling me off, I thought, shaking my head.
Beside me, Colin chuckled as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork and dropped it on
his plate. “Now that’s more believable,” he said.
I fired a glare his way but he just smiled at me and handed me the smoked chicken. I took
a piece of my own and gave the plate to my dad. We all started on our meals and for a couple
of minutes, we maintained a comfortable silence, each of us busy with our own food. The
clinking of our knives against our plates and the occasional noisy munching were the only
sounds to be heard.
“So, Seven,” Mrs. Stillman began after swallowing down her third batch of beans, “your
mother’s been telling me that your grades in math are exceptional.”
“I guess they’re fine,” I said, shrugging.
“Any plans for college yet?”
I hesitated, thinking carefully about my answer. “Yeah, I’m thinking of being a lawyer.”
At that, Colin turned to look over at me questioningly but I didn’t mind him.
“Hmm…like father, like daughter,” Mr. Stillman noted, speaking for the first time during
the whole exchange. He’d been sitting quietly in his place, sometimes mumbling a small
“thank you” for a passed dish. His posture was erect and stiff, so stiff that it was almost weird
to see him moving, leaning forward on his elbows and weaving his fingers together with a
smile.
His green gaze drifted towards me and I tensed up, feeling like a spotlight was focused
solely on me. “Tell me, Seven,” he said, “how are things at school?”
“Um…they’re alright, I suppose. The usual hectic projects, last-minute assignments…” I
answered vaguely. I only noticed then the sudden eerie silence that the dining table and its
occupants had taken. There was just something about the way Mr. Stillman talked; it
demanded everybody’s attention.
It felt like the calm before the storm.
 “That’s good, that’s good…” he said, nodding slowly. Just when I thought he was done
with me, he cut a glance towards me. “But I’ve been hearing rumors.”
My blood froze over, wondering what could possibly be running in the rumor mill about
me. “Rumors…sir?”
He chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “Nothing to worry about,” he assured me. “It’s
not about you. It’s about Colin here.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Colin’s hand close into a tight fist.
My eyes darted towards him and they widened in surprise when I took in the cold, hard
stare he’d fixed upon his father.
His bright green eyes were always like warm hugs at the end of a long day. But this time,
there was a deadly glint to them that reminded me of those daggers you see assassins carrying
in movies—daggers meant for the kill. I’d never seen Colin this angry before.
I was absolutely certain that this wasn’t the first time he’d been teased for the fact that a lot
of girls pined over him and had been heartbroken when he didn’t reciprocate. Roman had
even told me to be careful in a half-joking way, but Colin didn’t take it to heart. And sure
there were times when he got irritated, maybe even pissed, when I pretended to be his
girlfriend and got his mom started, and when I took his stuff away as a form of revenge, but
not like this. This was pure hatred.
I glanced around the table to see the others’ reaction. Mrs. Stillman had her head bowed
slightly and her eyes squeezed shut. Cass was nervously biting her lip and Candice was
frowning.
Something was definitely wrong.
I turned back to Mr. Stillman. He was smiling. Was that a hint of mischief in his eyes?
“About…Colin?” I asked hesitantly.
“Oh, yes,” he said, taking his knife and fork and cutting off a slice of the fish Mom had
made, ignoring the fact that the tension around the table was so thick that I could almost see it
right before my eyes. “I’ve heard he’s quite the player. Well, it’s not that hard to believe. I
mean, just look back at his ex-girlfriends. I don’t think he even took any of them seriously.”
“Morgan,” Mrs. Stillman squeaked, her voice so small I barely heard her.
“What?” he asked defensively. “It’s true.” He looked back at me. “I’m just telling you this,
Seven, so you can be sure on who you’re giving your heart to. He just breezes past, leaving
broken hearts in his wake. Isn’t that right, son?”
Colin didn’t respond immediately. He just glared at his father, the seconds turning into
minutes and the silence continuing on.
That is, until finally Colin’s face relaxed and he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why,
of course you’re right. I mean, it does take a player to know one. I bet you know a lot about
breaking hearts. Like father, like son, I suppose,” he said, shrugging. “But since we’re already
sharing, do you mind if I share your own experience in that field? Or are you too much of a
hypocrite that you won’t admit any of it to be true?”
“Colin,” Candice said, her eyes flicking towards his direction, an implied warning.
Beside him, I saw Cass take his hand and squeeze. Mrs. Stillman, however, remained quiet
and as still as a statue.
Colin ignored his sisters as he pushed back his chair and got up to his feet. “Excuse me,”
he said, turning away from the table and heading towards the stairs. He jogged up the steps
and disappeared around the corner.
After a little while, my mom laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension. “I’m sure he’ll
be back. He probably just went to the bathroom or something.”
 Nobody paid her any attention.
Candice sighed and turned to her father. “Dad,” she said, “you shouldn’t have done that.
You just made him angrier.”
Her father resumed his eating as if nothing had just happened in the past minute. “That boy
should learn to respect his father. No matter what has happened, he’s still—”
“That’s stupid,” I blurted out.
Everyone looked over at me with surprise. Mr. Stillman was stunned. “What did you say?”
he asked.
I looked up, gathering my courage and meeting his eyes. I took a deep breath. “I said that’s
stupid. Colin’s not like that. Although he pulls a lot of pranks on people, he’s really sweet and
kind. It’s not his fault if girls fawn over him because of that. And he has every right to turn
them down.
“Besides, the only time I saw him speak so frankly to the point of insulting was when the
person he’s talking to deserved it. I have no idea what you could’ve done, sir, to deserve his
anger, but it must’ve been horrible if you could make the guy who smiles the brightest that
mad.”
I stood up, ready to do my own walkout, but stopped. “Oh, and to be completely honest,” I
added, “I wouldn’t have given my respect to someone who says slanderous things about his
son and who makes him look like a terrible person either.”
I turned away and walked determinedly towards the kitchen. I didn’t bother looking for
Colin. He probably wouldn’t be in the best of moods and I didn’t want to know if he’d be
patient enough to tolerate my presence or not.
“I’m going to get dessert,” I announced, even though we’d only touched half of the food.
My mom immediately stood up, excusing herself to help me, but Candice put a hand on her
arm and said, “It’s okay, Mrs. Warrilow. I’ll help her.”
For once, my mom didn’t argue.
Even with my back turned, I knew Candice was following me into the kitchen by the
sound of her heels on the floor. I also knew that what I just said was rude, especially since it
was concerning another family fight that I had no part whatsoever in, but I didn’t care—at
least not at that moment.
What I didn’t know was that Colin Stillman didn’t actually go up the stairs to go to the
bathroom or something, like we thought he did. He was just sitting on one of the steps, hiding
and listening to every word we’d said, which included every word I’d just said.
And in the darkness where no one could see him, he smiled.
 Entry 15: Truths and Realization

Date: April 7, 2013

I headed straight for the refrigerator, where I knew my mom had left our dessert.
I opened the door with a tug and as I reached in to grab the relatively huge glass bowl of
fruit cocktail, the sound of Candice’s footfalls abruptly stopped. I could feel her eyes on me
as she stood just a few feet away.
“Look,” I said without facing her, “I know, I should have just minded my own business
and kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry I said those things to your dad.” I paused. “I
just…couldn’t stand the fact that he was saying those things about Colin when they aren’t
true.”
Are they? Another part of me wondered. How much do you really know about Colin?
Remember: he was willing to kiss Kiera during the game. He already kissed you and you’re
not even entirely sure of his intentions. He’s probably not as noble as you think.
I shook my head and carried the fruit cocktail out, placing it on the counter. I closed the
refrigerator and went to fetch some bowls.
“You don’t need to apologize, Seven,” Candice said, “because all the things you said…”
She took a deep breath. “They’re true.”
I twisted around to look at her. She was leaning her shoulder against the kitchen’s
doorframe, hugging her elbows as she did. “My dad…” she began, “he did…things that you
could say left our family scarred.” Her face scrunched up in shame and I could clearly see that
she was still hesitant about sharing more.
“You don’t have to tell me, you know,” I said, even though I really wanted her to.
She shook her head slowly, her red hair moving gracefully in waves. “No, I can see that
you really care about my brother, and for that, I think you deserve to know.”
She looked up at me, her green eyes determined and honest. “Colin was just a little boy—
maybe five or six years old—when dad started becoming a drunk. I never really noticed when
it all began. I was twelve and was caught up in my own world, but I can’t deny that the signs
were all there.
“He would come home really late at night, easily annoyed and reeking of alcohol.
Sometimes he didn’t even sleep in the same bed as Mom. He would sleep on the couch, too
drunk to work his way up the stairs. And then the next few times he wouldn’t even come
home anymore and we’d just get a call the next day saying that he stayed over at a friend’s
place because he was too drunk to drive. Mom would tell him to stop drinking and he’d
promise not to do it again, but nothing changed.
“And then one day, Dad forgot to bring his phone when he left in a hurry for work. It
beeped with a text and when Mom checked it out, she saw that it was from a woman. She
didn’t tell me exactly what the message said but it basically implied that the woman wanted to
meet up again with her ‘babe’.” Candice shuddered at the memory.
 My eyes widened as I listened. Colin had already told me before that his dad was a drunk,
which was why he only took a few sips that surely wouldn’t get him drunk. But he didn’t say
anything about this.
“Anyway,” Candice continued, “Mom didn’t want to believe it at first. She always gave
people the benefit of the doubt. But what would you expect? He’d been so sweet for the past
few days, even coming home sober, and she was pregnant with Cass, for crying out loud.” I
could see the disgust written all over her face as she spoke. “So she headed out to Dad’s
workplace to give him his phone. The secretary said that he was out, but Mom decided to
leave his phone in his office for him to find later. When she entered his office, though, she
knew then that the secretary had lied for him. He wasn’t out. He was too busy kissing another
woman. Mom told me afterwards that they had already done…other things worse than that.
“Dad felt really awful after that. I can say that he really loved Mom, but he just felt like
they were lacking in intimacy. Mom explained to me that because she was too busy with the
little bakery shop she started, they didn’t have time for it. She also told me that he just wanted
to rekindle the fire, but then she got pregnant with Cass and there was no way around that, so
he went to seek other outlets.
“But,” she said gravely, “the one who was most affected by it all was Colin. He was
always so close to Mom and he was so young…but not too young that he couldn’t understand
that there was something wrong going on between his parents. Whenever Mom and Dad
argued, he would cry and cry and I had to take him away to my room, let him listen to my
music and pat his back until he fell asleep. This went on for a while until he just stopped
crying.”
Candice paused, staring blankly at the floor. Her mind was obviously elsewhere.
My heart ached at the thought of a young Colin experiencing all that. My own parents
were in love, just as his once were, and I couldn’t—can’t—imagine them ever splitting up or
turning to other partners. They were my very basis for true love.
“And then?” I asked. “What happened next?”
She swallowed. “And then I don’t know. It’s like…he just snapped. He stopped caring,
stopped taking things seriously. He keeps pushing Dad to the edge, which is probably why
Dad said all of those things,” she said, gesturing to the dining table where I could hear low
voices talking. “He’s had enough of Colin’s attitude, but you’re right, he deserved it.”
Candice didn’t say any more and I didn’t press her. Although I wasn’t the one who had
experienced all of that, I understood how hard it must be to tell someone you’ve met only
twice about your family’s not-so-pleasant past.
“I don’t think he stopped caring,” I said quietly. “I mean, he obviously still cares about
you, Cass and your mom.”
“I know Colin loves us. I think he even loves Dad, despite how he’s doing everything he
can just to spite him. Dad, after all, was the one who taught him how to play basketball, the
one who bought him his first toy car,” she said. “But…I don’t know about what Dad said
concerning his girlfriends. Colin seems to take you as his girlfriend seriously.”
No, I thought. It’s just because you don’t know. We’re not even really together. I
remembered the conversation I had with him at the party. So what happened? I’d asked.
She became my ex.
What, just like that?
It wasn’t exactly a love match.
“I appreciate the fact that you told me all this, even though you really didn’t have to,” I
said, “but I just have one question.”
“Shoot,” she said, smiling wryly.
 “Why did your mom stay with him?” I asked, turning away to look for some teaspoons,
“After what he did?”
She shrugged. “She loves him. She loves him even if he’s a cheat, even if he’s so immature
that he would want to get back at his own son for disrespecting him after all these years. I
guess that’s the sad thing about love. You can’t love someone without the inevitable
possibility of getting hurt.”
From the dining table, my mom called out, “Hey, what’s taking you girls so long?”
“We were just looking for the bowls,” Candice replied. She took the bowls I’d left on the
counter and the teaspoons from my hand. She started to turn away, but stopped. She looked
back at me. “But you know, Seven, I’m glad you’re with Colin now.”
I tilted my head to the side and asked, “Why?”
She smiled. “Because I think he’s starting to take some things seriously now.”
I wanted to ask her what she meant by that but she was already walking away.
I shook my head at myself and moved to carry the bowl of fruit cocktail. It was pretty
heavy for a dessert, and I struggled with it as I edged out of the kitchen and its narrow
entrance. I stumbled a bit and it nearly slipped out of my grasp. But just in time, Colin
appeared from the stairs. The moment he saw me, he immediately strode over and caught the
bowl, his hands covering mine.
I looked up in surprise and found him grinning down at me. “Careful now,” he said, taking
the whole thing from me and easily carrying it with one arm, “wouldn’t want to ruin your
dress. You look extra pretty in it.”
I blinked rapidly at him. I was too confused to take in his compliment. “You, uh…seem to
be in a really good mood.” Wasn’t he fuming just minutes ago?
“Yeah…isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?” he asked, winking at me.
“Well, I guess so but—”
“Hey, no buts,” he said, cutting me off. He took a step towards me and brought his lips to
mine.
My face probably went a little like: ?!?!?!
It didn’t last that long though, and he eventually pulled away. When he did, he smiled
down at me.
“Aw, you two are so adorable,” a voice said.
I whipped around to see his mom looking over at us. She was helping Candice distribute
the bowls and teaspoons, while the entire table—except for Mr. Stillman—watched us.
I blushed. Why is it that people always catch Colin kissing me? I thought. Colin didn’t
seem to mind, though. He just smiled at his family (although I bet he pretended he couldn’t
see his father) and walked over to place the fruit cocktail at the center of the table.
I watched him as he moved. I still couldn’t believe his mood could change so quickly.
What did he do when he’d gone upstairs? What could’ve made him this happy? And what was
that kiss for, all of a sudden?
Maybe he had a bipolar disorder that Candice forgot to mention…
I shook my head and stepped towards the dining table to join them for dessert, but my eyes
found their way to Mr. Stillman who was sitting up straight, reaching for his bowl of fruit
cocktail, and I stopped.
I bit my lip. Now that I knew the reason behind Mr. Stillman’s earlier spitefulness, I didn’t
feel up to sitting a foot or less away from the guy, especially after basically calling him a
terrible person who deserved his son’s anger.
 I stayed right there, just a few ways away from Mr. Stillman’s peripheral vision, and
cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me,” I said to everyone, “I’m sorry but I think I’ll just be
skipping dessert.”
My mom’s head snapped up, looking very much ready to answer me with a big fat NO. It
was understandable if she wanted me to stay and entertain the guests, seeing as those guests
were the family of my supposed boyfriend.
But just as she opened her mouth to reply, Colin piped up, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Warrilow.”
He took a step forward so that he was right beside me and smoothly draped an arm over my
shoulders. He nuzzled his cheek affectionately against my hair. “I’ll take good care of her. I’ll
make sure she won’t go wandering off somewhere.”
I managed a scowl. “Hey, I’m not a kid! And do I really need to remind you that this is my
home?”
Colin’s mom looked like she wanted to squeal, like she was watching a romance movie,
but she held it back pretty well and instead said, “Of course, you two should have your time
together.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Candice smiling knowingly at me.
Someone, help me, I thought.
I glanced briefly towards my mom. She was smiling. “Thank you, Colin,” she said, “I’ll be
more assured knowing you’ll be with her.” She chuckled softly behind her hand.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I whined. Colin laughed and we started to leave, but my dad
called after us, “Doors are to be left open, am I understood?”
“Yes, sir!” Colin said, raising a hand to his forehead in mock-salute. I dragged a hand
down my face.
We turned away from the dining table and quickly headed for the stairs. When we took the
first step up, Colin must’ve realized that he still had his arm around my shoulders because he
murmured, “Sorry,” and removed it.
You don’t need to be sorry, I wanted to say, feeling a little disappointed and cold without
the reassuring weight of his arm.
We climbed the stairs in a silent trek, and after a minute, he said, “So, um, a while ago…”
“Yeah?”
“A while ago, you told them that you want to be a lawyer. I thought you were still
indecisive about that.”
My mind travelled back, recalling the conversation. I couldn’t understand why Colin had
developed a sudden interest in that. What did it matter if I told other people that I wanted to
be a lawyer?
I shrugged. “Yeah, I still am.”
He frowned, confusion etched on his face. “Why didn’t you just tell them that?”
I thought about it, trying to form an answer but I ended up shrugging. “Honestly, I don’t
know,” I admitted. “I guess if I do reach a decision, I’d tell them anyway, so it doesn’t matter
if they don’t know that I’m struggling with choosing now…” I paused and then shrugged
again. “I normally don’t tell my insecurities to just anybody.”
I expected him to tease me about being secretive, but instead he grinned. “But you told
me,” he said.
I looked up into his eyes and found an implied message there. I blushed uncontrollably and
narrowed my eyes at him. “And what’s your point?”
“Oh, nothing,” he said, sounding particularly in a good mood, maybe in an even better one
than he already was.
 After a few more steps, we reached the second floor. I led the way to my room, but Colin
suddenly stopped in front of a family portrait that Mom had nailed to the wall.
“Seven, is that you?” he asked incredulously, jabbing a finger at my face in the portrait.
I frowned. In the picture I was still around the age of eight with long hair that fell
unattractively straight on either side of my face. My mom had insisted on braiding it into
pigtails before the shot was taken, and it was obvious that my eight-year-old self wasn’t
pleased with them.
“Unless I have a twin sister who hides within the walls of this house and only comes out
during family photo shoots, then yeah,” I said, “that’s me.”
Colin rolled his eyes at me. “No need to be sarcastic. You actually look cute here.” He
chuckled. “This is so rich. I’ve got to take a picture of this.” He started pulling his phone out
of his pocket, but I immediately grabbed his arm and dragged him away.
“Just leave it alone, will ya?” I said, glaring at him as I nudged my bedroom door open.
He dropped the pursuit for the photo and walked in, taking in his surroundings. He crossed
his arms and said, “You know, it’s really unfair how you always sneak into my room and find
your way to my house, while I’ve only been here once. And at that time, I was being
kidnapped.”
“Well, you brought it upon yourself, you know,” I said. “If you just gave back the black
notebook early on, none of that would’ve happened—”
“—and we wouldn’t be here, in your room, talking about it,” he finished for me. “We also
wouldn’t have had all those fun times when I outsmarted your little plans.”
“Fun only for you,” I muttered under my breath.
If Colin heard me, he didn’t show it. He turned his attention to my desk. “Speaking of your
notebook,” he said, striding towards it and examining my collection of black notebooks, “are
you breeding notebooks or something?”
I was about to explain to him why I had so many, but then he took one of the black
notebooks there—the one that was separate from the rest. I paled. It was my diary. I hadn’t
written in it or touched it since the day I lost the black notebook; I just got too busy chasing
after Colin and coming up with plans while juggling my homework to write about my day at
all.
But that didn’t mean that all those other entries I wrote in it before weren’t full of
embarrassing stuff about Colin, about how I wished again and again that he would notice me,
and everything else that he should definitely NOT read.
“Hey!” I hurried towards him and quickly snatched my diary from his fingers. I hugged it
protectively to my chest and said, “You already stole one notebook and you’re still thinking
of peeking into another?”
Colin raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Sheesh.” He moved away
from my desk and I eyed him warily before placing my diary back in its place among the
other black notebooks.
“So,” he began, making his way towards my shelf, “what were you planning to do that was
so important you wanted to skip dessert for it?”
“Actually,” I said slowly, “I wasn’t planning on doing anything.”
He looked over at me and cocked an eyebrow. “So why are we in your room when the fruit
cocktail’s down there?” he asked, nodding his head towards the way we came.
I planted my hands on my hips and said, “You are only here because you offered to be. I’m
here because…” I bit my lip, hesitating. “I didn’t want to face your dad.” I looked away and
sighed. “When you left the table a while ago, mad, I just—”
 “I know,” he said, smiling, “I heard you.”
I looked back at him with wide eyes. “You did?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “And I
wanted to say…thanks for that.”
I turned away sheepishly and nodded. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t like the things your dad
was saying.”
“Well, it turned out okay anyway so let’s just not talk about it,” he quickly said, looking
away and focusing on the books I had on my shelf.
I looked up at him, watching the way he refused to meet my eyes, the way his hand shook
just a little as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. Part of me—most of me, really—was
itching to ask him about his dad and what Candice just told me. Maybe it was just the part of
me that was so used to giving comfort and advice or maybe I was just naturally nosy, but I
wanted to hear his side of the story.
“Colin?” I said.
“Hmm?” he asked, still not looking at me. He reached up, his long slim fingers brushing
the spines of the books.
“Candice told me what your dad did, how he cheated on your mom.”
His hand stopped. It took him a moment before he replied, smiling a ghost of a smile, “So?
What does that have to do with me?”
“Colin,” I said, looking at him sternly. “It’s obviously affecting you or you wouldn’t have
acted like you did a while ago. Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”
Just like that, Colin dropped the act. His eyes took in a dangerous glint as he narrowed his
eyes and his lips were absent of a smile. “Look, Seven, don’t assume you understand what I
feel after hearing some story from Candice.”
“I know it’s not just some story, Colin,” I said, “especially not to you. Candice told me that
what happened to your parents changed you somehow. You stopped caring about things.”
“What do you know about me, Seven?” he asked harshly. “You only see this happy-go-
lucky guy who loves to kid around with you.” He shook his head. “You know nothing.”
His words hurt like a slap. He started to move away from me, but I grabbed his arm. He
turned back, a scowl ruining his beautiful face, but I took a step towards him and made him
look me in the eye.
“Do you think I’m that blind?” I asked defiantly. “I may not see the whole picture, but I
can see fragments of a boy who doesn’t trust anyone to take him seriously anymore, so he
doesn’t take anyone seriously either. You don’t want to end up like your mom, hurting
because she still trusts someone who’s already betrayed her, hurt her. Tell me straight to my
face that I’m wrong and I won’t bug you anymore.”
He looked down at me, his green eyes searching for something in mine—maybe an
answer, an understanding, I don’t know, but I didn’t break eye contact. We stayed like that for
a while in silence, until finally he laughed softly. “I guess I can’t hide much from someone
who’s so used to seeing these kinds of things from other people.”
“You’ve got that right,” I said, stabbing his chest with my finger.
Colin sighed and turned away from me, walking towards my bed. He sat there on the
cushions and dragged a hand over his face. “Seven, if you were in my place,” he said quietly,
“what would you do?”
“Well, for starters, I would forgive him and—”
“No,” he said without a second thought. “I’m not going to do that. Forget I asked.”
 “Colin,” I said in a placating tone, moving to sit beside him. I bounced a little on the
cushions as I sat. “I know it’s going to be hard but you need to try—”
“Hard?” he asked incredulously, turning to face me. “I think you mean impossible. Seven,
my mom’s being too nice on him. She should’ve broken it off with him the moment she found
out. He doesn’t deserve her and her forgiveness.”
“No, your mom’s not being too nice. She just learned to forgive him, like you should,” I
said. “Candice told me that your dad felt awful after what happened.”
“Really?” he snorted. “Was that after he cheated on her or after he hit her, almost killing
Cass off?”
I stopped, my blood going cold. “What?”
“Candice didn’t know about it, did she?” He let out a short laugh. “Well, how could she?
She wasn’t at home when it happened. It was after he promised not to meet with that woman
ever again. Mom believed him, but that didn’t mean she was happy with him. He probably
couldn’t take the regret and guilt so he went drinking again to wash it all away. He came
home, Mom told him off and he hit her. I don’t care if it was unintentional or not, he still did
it and she fell to the floor and started bleeding, luckily we were able to bring her to the
hospital in time. She was nine months pregnant with Cass.”
“Colin,” I said, my features betraying my shock.
“But I have to admit that he really did stop after that,” he said, tugging absently at the cuffs
of his shirt. “He tried to make it up to Mom.” He paused for a while, too busy with his
thoughts. “And for the record, some of the things he said were true.”
“What things?”
“I used to…sneak out every night to parties and come home, pretending to be intoxicated
so he’d know how it felt to be the sober one talking to the drunk. I even brought home
different girls, not to introduce to my family or anything, but just to piss him off. I stopped
doing it after…” he trailed off.
“After?” I asked, curious.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can’t forgive him that easily, Seven. I
just…can’t.”
“But don’t you see?” I asked, gently laying a hand on his arm. “Doing all those things—it
doesn’t change what your dad did. It only changes you. It makes you more like him. He’s the
drunkard, not you. He’s the one who doesn’t take things seriously, not you. He’s the one who
takes revenge. Not you, Colin.”
“But—”
“And I don’t think your mom would like that,” I quickly cut him off. When he didn’t
respond, didn’t deny it, I knew I’d hit a bullseye. I smiled. “Besides, I think I’d like this Colin
better.”
I wasn’t certain about it, but I thought I saw his eyes widen in surprise. I watched his
Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.
As I waited patiently for him to say something, I thought distractedly about everything I’d
learned that night. What his dad did to cause a break in their family and Colin’s reaction to it
gave me a bit of an understanding as to why he did most of the things he did, but I knew that
didn’t mean he would change overnight. He’d been bent on revenge, even in these little doses
like disobeying his dad and showing his outright dislike, for years now.
I remembered a time when I was younger and I was experimenting with some paint,
smearing the color all over my face. Mom had discovered the mess I’d made in my room and
immediately told me to wash my face, but it didn’t come off that easily. I scrubbed and
scrubbed, used steaming hot water, but in the end I still went to school the next day with
green, red, and purple blotches all over my face.
I might have told Colin to forgive what his father had done, to stop doing these things to
spite him and get it out his system, but it would take a long, long while before he could truly
forgive his dad.
Colin twisted around to look at me and cleared his throat. “Before I go right ahead and
forgive that ungrateful bastard,” he said, and I gave him a look, “can you do something for me
first?”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”
“Stay still.”
I knitted my eyebrows in confusion but obliged. He didn’t leave me guessing for too long,
though.
Colin tentatively reached out and wrapped his arms around me in a hug, my head fitting
perfectly into the crook of his neck like the missing piece to a puzzle. His thigh came flush
with mine and he positioned his chin on the top of my head with a sigh.
“Hope you don’t mind,” he said softly.
I didn’t say anything as I listened to his heart beating steadily in his chest. Meanwhile, my
heart was heavy and sinking.
Okay, so Colin’s willing to forgive his dad, but what about my notebook? I couldn’t stop
myself from thinking it. Is that a part of his plan to tick his dad off too?
I didn’t think so. Nobody knew about the black notebook except Colin and me. There was
no real reason as to why he had to take it.
But despite that, despite all that Colin had done—spinning me around in circles and
embarrassing me, snaring me in my own traps and taunting me—I still found myself
gravitating towards him, facing an irresistible urge to just let go of my guard and drink in his
warmth like the sips from sweet-scented tea. I still wanted him to look at me and smile at me
the way he did, to kiss me, to talk to me.
If I were to be completely honest with myself, maybe I even wanted him to keep the
notebook so that I’d have a reason to interact with him. Without it, I probably wouldn’t have
gotten to know Colin.
I exhaled a sigh and found my arms, almost like they were moving by themselves, rising to
snake around his waist.
When Colin chuckled, I felt the rumble in his chest. He tightened his hold on me—just by
a little bit—but it was unmistakable and so was the small smile on my face as my eyes slowly
drifted close.
Finally, when we pulled apart, I looked up and Colin smiled down at me, a dimple
appearing on his left cheek.
For some reason, I couldn’t resist it; I reached up and poked it, causing him to blink in
surprise and laugh at me. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his face, his stubble
tickling my skin. He looked up at me from under his lashes as he brushed a kiss across my
knuckles.
I blushed, fumbling for words, but I was saved when we heard footsteps out in the hall.
After a few seconds, my mom poked her head into the room and smiled at us.
“Hey, you two,” she said. “Unfortunately, it’s time for Colin and his family to go. Cass is
already getting sleepy.”
“Okay, we’ll be down in a minute,” I said, trying to shadow my sadness at the prospect of
saying goodbye with a smile.
 My mom nodded once and then left, but I had a feeling she was still lurking just outside,
listening in on us.
Colin sighed in what sounded like disappointment. “You know, they could always make
Cass sleep on the couch. And then everyone can stay a little longer and be happy.”
I swatted his arm playfully. “Colin,” I scolded him, but I was smiling.
He shrugged, pushing himself off my bed. “I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, well, it is getting late,” I reasoned, more to myself than to him.
As we exited my room, he smirked down at me. “What, you getting rid of me already?”
“I said no such thing.”
“So you want me to stay?” he asked, his eyes lighting up like the first sparks of a fire.
I didn’t answer him. I merely smiled and went on ahead. I was able to make a few steps
before he caught up to me at the top of the stairs, grinning like a boy who got the toy he
wanted for Christmas. When he was already walking in pace with me, he reached out as if it
was the most casual thing in the world and swiftly took my hand in his.
He never once let go, even when we were at the base of the staircase or when our families
streamed out of our front door and we all stood on the porch, exchanging pleasantries and
trading last minute stories. My heart soared when his hand shifted around and he laced our
fingers together.
I glanced over at him, and as I silently observed his shoulders, his broad back and the way
they shook slightly when he laughed, I found myself tightening my grip on his hand.
I should hate him, I told myself. He may be nice and sweet sometimes and he gives the
greatest hugs, but the truth of the matter is that he won’t give back my notebook. If he really
does care for me, like I wish he would, he would’ve given the notebook back by now. I
should hate him already.
So why don’t you? another voice asked me, not for the first time.
I always had a pregnant pause at this, wondering to myself, why did I still fawn over Colin
and think about him all day? More often than not he’d been making fun of my attempts to get
back my notebook and cruelly playing with my emotions, hinting something here or there and
then laughing at the fact that I’d actually believe him.
Even now, as we held hands, I waited for the moment when he’d pull away and announce
that I’d been tricked. Again.
And yet I still didn’t hate him. I didn’t even dislike him for all those times he was a jerk.
Yes, I was hurt, but I didn’t hate him for it.
“Thank you so much for tonight,” I heard Colin’s mom say for the millionth time, bending
forward to press her cheek against my mom’s. “We had such a wonderful time.”
“No, thank you,” my mom insisted. “We should definitely do this again.”
As everyone began saying their goodbyes, Colin leaned down so he could whisper to my
ear, “Thanks for everything. I…I had a great time.” He added, “With you.”
“Me too,” I said, smiling up at him.
“Colin, come on,” Candice called after him. His family was already heading to the car.
“Yeah,” he replied and then turned back to me, giving my hand one last squeeze. “Bye. I’ll
text you, okay?”
I grinned. “Okay. Bye, Colin.”
Why? that part of me asked again, but this time, as his hand slowly withdrew from mine
and I watched him walk away, the answer came easily.
I love him.
 I blinked in surprise at my own thoughts. I was ready to deny it, even if it was just in my
mind, but I couldn’t find myself to do it.
Colin looked back over his shoulder at me, almost tripping down the porch in the process.
He laughed at himself, his grin even wider than before, and I knew, deep in my bones and in
my pounding heart, it was the truth. It wasn’t just a silly crush that I’d been harboring for
years.
I was actually falling for Colin.
I just hoped, with what little hope I had left, that he’d be willing to catch me in the end.
 Entry 16: Plan K: Seduction

Date: April 8, 2013

I stared, gaping, at the gruesome scene before me. Bones and guts were scattered everywhere
and the blood had stained the gray stone beneath their feet. I couldn’t believe it.
I fisted my hands and threw the controller angrily at the couch. “No fair! My controllers
are two seconds delayed! I could’ve beaten your Sub-Zero hands-down!”
Beside me, Patrick exploded into fits of laughter and when his glasses slid down the bridge
of his nose, he pushed them back up. As he moved, the lens reflected the TV screen and the
bold red letters on it that read: FATALITY.
My Kitana had died—for the fourth time, unfortunately.
He leaned back on the couch and tossed the controller lightly to the side. He shrugged, still
a little breathless from laughing. “It’s okay, pup. You don’t have to be a sore loser.”
I gave his shoulder a playful shove, although it was admittedly a little hard, and he laughed
again.
It was already the last day of my spring break, and I’d originally planned on just reading a
book—as always—but when Patrick decided to take a break from The Book Station and visit
me and my mom, plans quickly changed and we ended up talking in the living room and
setting up the old video games I used to play with my cousins when we were little, for the
better half of the afternoon.
But he didn’t come only to say hello and catch up.
“I have great news,” he’d told my mom the moment she opened the front door and
welcomed him in. His blue eyes had twinkled with eagerness and joy. “I finally made contact
with my parents.”
After all these years, despite the fact that Patrick had managed to survive through college
and rise up to this meager, yet content life he was living, his parents still gave him the cold
shoulder. Not that Patrick had tried to change anything about that, but now it seemed like he
had.
“I was able to grab hold of their latest number and gave them a call. Mom missed me, and
Dad was gruff, but I thought I heard his voice crack.” He grinned as my mom clapped
excitedly. “That is good news! So many years have passed…are you guys going to meet up?”
“Yeah, I told them that they can come see The Book Station this Thursday since I know
they’re still pretty busy, old as they already are,” he said and shared a laugh with my mom.
His face had softened then with a wistful smile. “I can’t believe it’s been so long…”
I personally couldn’t believe it either, but not in the same way as Patrick.
I didn’t know what it was about what Patrick was saying, but I just couldn’t believe that
his parents would actually come and meet up with him. From what my mom told me, they
were really disappointed in him, to the point that they practically disowned him and stopped
funding his studies. All these years had passed, as they’d both said, and yet his parents only
made their appearance in his life now, when their only son was already in his late thirties.
 Somehow a part of me wasn’t so sure they’d fulfill their promise of coming.
I didn’t voice my thoughts though and just congratulated Patrick. And now, as the sound of
the pan popping with oil and the smell of cooked meat drifted from the kitchen and into the
room, I asked Patrick if he wanted another round of Mortal Kombat.
He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, Seven,” he said. “It’s almost dinnertime and I need to
get back. I can’t be on break forever. Maybe next time.” He turned and called out towards the
kitchen, “Julie, I’m leaving now!”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” she shouted back without pulling her
attention away from her work.
“I’m sure! Thanks, though!” With a smile and a wave, he said to me, “Bye, pup. I’ll just
see myself out.”
I nodded silently and waved goodbye. I watched him walk away and duck out, closing the
door behind him.
When he was gone, I got up on my feet and collected the games scattered over the carpeted
floor, arranging them back into the neat piles they were previously in. Once I was done, I
made my way up the stairs and to my room.
The second I stepped in and saw my bed, I remembered Colin. My heart raced even at just
the thought of him, and I felt restless, impatient to get the day done and see him tomorrow at
school.
I sighed and staggered inside, pushing aside the box of books I’d read through the
morning, almost toppling over the pile beside my bed. As I took the ones I’d already finished
and placed them on my shelf, my phone suddenly buzzed and I pulled it out to see who it was.
Colin. There goes my heart again.
I stretched myself over the bed and quickly opened the message, eager to read the words
there. Hey :) today’s our last day for break, huh?
So casual, so simple, and yet it meant the world to me. I replied: Hi! Yeah :( I want it to
last a little longer.
Why? Did ya plan any adventures? ;)
No I just don’t want to go to school. Besides, I don’t know where to have an adventure.
After clicking SEND, I waited for his reply. When he didn’t reply immediately, I told
myself that maybe he was just busy. I only started getting worried when my phone didn’t
beep again for a couple of minutes.
I was absently drumming my fingers against my leg and wondering if he’d ever respond or
if this was some subtle way of rejecting someone, when his message finally came. Open your
video call.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and texted, Why?
I turned it on anyway, and almost that exact same moment, Colin sent me a video call. I
answered it and the screen turned black with a white loading sign. Pixels began appearing,
arranging themselves until I could see an only slightly blurry image of Colin.
His hair looked wet, darker than usual, and he was wearing an ordinary green T-shirt that
brought out the color of his eyes. He peered at the screen, looking confused, and then he
grinned. “There we go.”
I couldn’t hold back the smile. “What’s the video call for?”
“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. From the background, I could see that he was leaning
against the headboard of his bed. “Just wanted to try it out.” He squinted at me and then
sighed—almost longingly. “Man, I want to kiss you right now.”
 My cheeks went all warm and pink as I said, “Gee, that wasn’t awkward at all.” He
probably doesn’t mean it, I reminded myself when he grinned. “So did you just take a
shower?” I asked.
“Why? Do I look that good?” He wagged his eyebrows at me.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s your hair. It kind of hangs over your forehead rather than sticking
up.”
“Okay, yeah I did,” he said, laughing and making his video shake a little, “Anyway, back
to what we were talking about: you say that you don’t know where to have an adventure?”
“That is correct.”
“Well, isn’t that the point?” he asked. “You go out to explore because you don’t know
where you’re going. You’re just letting the car drive, your gut lead, and the winds carry you
away.”
“How poetic,” I said teasingly, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
He laughed again, running a hand through his hair. How could he make it look so sexy?
“Hey, I can be poetic if I try.”
I shook my head at him, smirking, and shifted around on my bed so that I was lying on my
stomach. “But if you don’t know where you’re going, won’t you get lost? What if you don’t
find your way back?”
He smiled. “Not all those who wander are lost.”
I blinked in surprise. “Isn’t that from Lord of the Rings?”
He grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I just finished watching the trilogy. Fell asleep for a while
in the first movie, though.”
“Oh,” I said and then paused. “I think I know what kind of adventure I want now.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to have an adventure like in Lord of the Rings or Percy Jackson or even Hunger
Games.”
“I’m not that sure about the Hunger Games bit,” he said and that one dimple on his left
cheek popped up again. He clapped and rubbed his hands together, a look of mischief dancing
in his eyes. “Well then, we should definitely one. An adventure, I mean.”
“Yeah, why not?” I said, shrugging. I didn’t know if Colin really meant it, but I didn’t
want to keep my hopes up just in case. “So how are things with your dad?”
The smile on his face faded away. “I, uh…haven’t exactly talked to him yet.”
“Colin.”
“What?” he asked defensively. “It’s not that easy letting go of something you’re used to
for the past decade.”
“But you will forgive him, right?”
He raised an eyebrow at me and asked, “What does it matter anyway if I forgive him or
not?”
My mind brought me back to one of the secrets this one guy, Will, told me, about how he
hated his dad because he never stopped to understand and was always too strict on his grades.
They got into a fight one day and didn’t talk for the next few. When his father got into a car
crash and died, he regretted the fact that he didn’t ever get to make up with his dad. His dad
probably thought his son hated him until the minute he died. The guilt ate Will up to the point
that he nearly succeeded in committing suicide; his mom had found him unconscious on the
bathroom floor with a bunch of sleeping pills and a bottle of Jack Daniels.
I definitely didn’t want Colin to go through something like that.
 I wasn’t sure, though, if it was best to tell Colin about it, especially since Will probably
didn’t want anyone else to know.
But I looked up, and I could picture myself reaching into the screen and into the room until
I was right there beside him, and then I thought, I love him. Besides, he didn’t spread the
secrets he already knows by now. I can trust him.
So I went on to tell Colin about Will and his dad and his guilt. He listened quietly, a sober
expression painted on his face. When I was done, he tore his gaze away from me and rolled
his tongue over his teeth, pondering over what I’d just said. He exhaled, long and deep, and
looked back at the screen, at me. “I guess…I guess I can try tonight.”
I smiled at him. “I know you can do it. You’re a good guy, Colin.”
I couldn’t figure out why, but he looked really, really sad when I said that. “Sorry, Seven,”
he sighed, “but I have to go. See you tomorrow?”
I blinked in surprise. Did I do something wrong? I wondered, but didn’t dare let my
thoughts turn into words. “O-Okay. See you. Bye.”
“Bye,” he said, smiling weakly, before he ended the call and the screen went black again.

***

Date: April 9, 2013

The next day, as I stood just outside of my closet, debating on whether I would go with the
new blouse I’d bought or my favorite yellow Marvel comics T-shirt, I was filled with a
sudden sense of dread.
I finally had school that day and whenever I thought of school, I would inevitably think of
having to get ready to face more secrets and the prospect of keeping them.
Surprisingly, no one had texted or called me over the break. I got a few messages about
parties and had politely declined, but there weren’t as many people begging for my help or
anything like that. Usually my inbox would’ve been flooded.
Of course, I was completely fine with it, but I couldn’t pretend as if everything was okay
and just let it all pass until no one came to me for secrets at all. There were still secrets in the
black notebook that were just as important and confidential as my own secrets. I owed it to
the people who needed my help.
Unfortunately, no matter what I did, Colin would just shoot down every single thing I
threw at him.
I thought back to last night’s video call and a string of questions, already familiar to my
mind, came to life like a newly lit firecracker. Did he see something in my expression that
made him look so sad? Was it because I was forcing him to forgive his dad? Would he still
keep up this boyfriend-girlfriend facade with me?
Despite it being fiction, it was the closest thing I had to an actual intimate relationship with
Colin, but I didn’t think he would find any need to pretend anymore. Our families wouldn’t
be at school to see that there was nothing between us, so there was no other reason why he
had to.
I chewed my lip, remembering how he’d sighed and said, Man, I want to kiss you right
now.
I knitted my eyebrows and shook my head. It was important that I remember as well that
the only reason he kissed me the day I told his parents I was his girlfriend was because he
needed to get the notebook back from me.
 I frowned. The pain that blossomed in my stomach felt like somebody had just stabbed me
in the gut and was twisting the knife to make a point—a point that clearly said, If you fall any
harder for Colin, it’ll surely hurt like this. Only ten times worse.
But he wanted to kiss me…
I switched my attention to my clothes arranged in metal hangers and folded in drawers. As
I looked through my possible choices for the day, slowly, gradually, I grasped the beginnings
of a plan.
Colin almost always used his charms to take my focus away from the notebook. He knew
what would distract me, what would weaken me, and he’d used it against me—kissing me,
saying sweet things and then taking them back so that I was left in a whirlpool of mixed
feelings.
Well, now it was my turn.
Back when I was a sophomore, there was a senior in my class named Bridgette who told
me that it was easy to get at a guy’s weakness.
“It completely depends on the guy—some are actually down-to-earth and gentlemanly—
but most of them are very simple-minded. A little cleavage here, a little flirting there, and a
whole lot of exhausting kissing and voila,” she’d said with a flourish and a sly smile, “he’s
hooked.”
I frantically searched through my clothes, picking out one after the other and then
haphazardly throwing them back in. The closest thing I had to a shirt that actually revealed
any cleavage—however small—was the large Clippers jersey that hung on my frame. My dad
had given it to me when we went to one of their games together with Nate, but I didn’t think a
jersey would have that much sex appeal, so I shoved it back in the closet and settled for a
black fitted halter that I usually only used under my shirts.
I picked out a pleated skirt that only reached half of my thighs and matched it with a pair
of ankle boots. I grabbed a jacket and swiftly slipped it on before going downstairs.
My dad wasn’t as conservative as most fathers but I had a feeling he’d be pretty shocked if
he saw that I’d replaced my customary sneakers and simple tees for high heels and halters.
It took me a while climbing down the stairs in my heels, but I managed. Once I was
downstairs though my dad was nowhere to be found. I eyed the empty place where his plate
should’ve been. He probably already left for work.
I approached the dining table just as my mom was sitting down. Our original table was
back in its place, but I could remember the other night and Colin and everything that had
happened so clearly that it was almost like the black foldable table was still there.
She looked up when she heard my shoes against the floor and raised her eyebrows with a
smile. “Wow. You look really pretty today, Seven. You usually don’t wear skirts to school.”
I shouldered my backpack and shrugged. “I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to try something
different.”
“Yeah, well, it’s nice,” she said, raising her glass of orange juice.
I grinned at her. “Of course you’d say that, you’re my mom.”
“Hey,” she said defensively, “I wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t true.”
“I know, I know,” I said, laughing. I spotted my plate but I didn’t feel like sitting down and
chatting over breakfast. I was so pumped with alacrity to execute my plan I feared that if I
stayed still for even one second, I would lose it all in one breath. Besides, I could get to
school early and figure out how to even remotely look seductive while I waited for Colin to
come.
 With that thought, I scooped the scrambled eggs and laid them out on the toasted bread. I
covered it with some ham and then another piece of toast, creating some sort of sandwich. I
chomped on it. Not bad.
“Okay, Mom, I’ve got to go,” I said with a mouthful of eggs, ham, and toast. “See you
later!”
Her eyebrow shot up in disbelief. “A little early, don’t you think?”
“Uh,” I said, stalling, “I have to get something…done before classes start. I’m fine with
cramming at the last hour but definitely not at the last minute.”
“You should’ve done it last night or sometime during the break,” she scolded me, but
ended up only shaking her head and chuckling. “Alright, you take care, baby. Say hi to Colin
for me.”
I promised her I would and munched on my makeshift sandwich as I tried not to make it
look so obvious that I was greatly affected by that two syllable name. I strode out of the door
and to the people and sidewalks and buildings that awaited me outside.
Winter was finally losing its edge and springtime was evident in the blooming flowers in
my neighbors’ gardens and the budding leaves in the trees. The streets were busier than usual
and I pulled my jacket sleeve over my nose as I passed through the smoke of an old beat-up
car. The Book Station was on the way, and when I peeked inside I could see Patrick and
Francesca starting up the shop.
Eventually the familiar bland color of the school walls turned up around the corner and,
once I was safely inside the steel gates, I peeled off my jacket and let the cool wind whip my
skin.
There weren’t many people around yet, but there were still some faces that greeted me and
waved me over. Seeing as Colin wasn’t anywhere to be found, I talked with other people for a
bit, catching up and getting the load of secrets and problems that I thought I’d avoided since
spring break started.
There was a noticeable decrease in their number though, that I had to admit. Out of the
many that approached to say hello, only five had hidden agendas.
As I mingled around, hopping from one group to another, I realized something odd.
People—to be more precise, the boys—were gawking at me. Most of them were huddled in a
group, caught up in a conversation or just standing under the shade of a tree, reviewing for
their tests one more time, but there was an undeniable hush that came over them when I
passed.
My skin crawled from the intensity of their lingering stares. I was used to attention but this
was completely foreign.
I shoved my jacket inside my locker, thinking I wouldn’t need it later, and slammed the
door shut. I spun around, ready to walk to my first class and just wait for my opportunity to
see Colin, when a boy with olive skin and a crew cut sauntered over and flashed a blindingly
white smile at me. “Looking good, Seven,” he said, shamelessly looking me up from head to
toe.
I looked at him weirdly. “Um, thanks, Steph. So how are you and your girlfriend?” Steph
used to come to me, complaining about his girlfriend who was you could say very, very close
to the other members of his football team. Steph was actually an okay friend and he’d never
looked at me like this before.
“Oh, you know, with one guy and another, as always,” he said nonchalantly, as if it didn’t
matter to him anymore. “So since when did you start looking so hot?”
I blushed and shook my head. “Nah, I’m hardly ‘hot’.”
He chuckled. “Oh, come on. Sure you are.”
 “You’re just saying that.”
“You know I’m not,” he insisted, winking. I gave him a sheepish smile, raising a hand to
rub the back of my neck. Well, that was awkward.
“So,” he went on, “what’s your first class?”
“Oh, um, I’m just about to head…to bio…” I trailed away as something behind Steph’s
head caught my attention. An ocean of students filled the halls, churning and crashing against
each other. And among the tens of blue jeans and backpacks, I found Colin, wearing a dark
blue sweatshirt, his hood up. He was talking to a friend as he walked, clenching and
unclenching his hands around the straps of his backpack.
As he turned his head, his gaze drifted to my direction, meeting mine, and then locking it
in place. His eyes unmistakably lit up and the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile—
“Oh, good,” Steph piped up, “I have math, which is right beside bio. I can walk you there.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said, breaking my eye contact with Colin to shake my head.
“I insist,” he said, reaching out to pluck my books from my arms. “Here, I’ll even take
your stuff for you—”
Before Steph could even touch one book, another hand intercepted him and took them
away.
I looked up sharply and my heart melted just a little when I saw Colin bearing down on
Steph. His hood was off, and despite the serious expression on his face, the way the back of
his hair was sticking up made him look adorable. “Hey, man, it’s alright. I can handle this,”
he said and, without waiting for a response, turned his back to Steph.
He smiled at me. “Hey, babe,” he said, quite loudly.
He’s still pretending I’m his girlfriend, I noted with a small happy flutter of my heart. “H-
Hi,” I sputtered out, grinning.
I didn’t get to see Steph’s reaction, but when I spared him a look, he was already walking
away.
When I looked back up at Colin, his eyes had widened with pleasant surprise as he glanced
down at my outfit.
A little cleavage, I remembered Bridgette saying. I took a deep breath and straightened my
back, trying to make my chest seem bigger. I watched Colin carefully, but all he did was blink
and clear his throat. “So, uh, was he…was he bothering you?”
I waved a dismissive hand. “No, he was just…being really friendly.”
“Friendly?” he scoffed. “Right. More like flirty. He probably got caught in your trap.”
“What trap?” I asked, swatting him on the arm.
He gestured at my clothes. “I mean, you do look different. What’s with the get-up?”
“Nothing,” I said, “I just felt like trying out something new.”
He grinned. “Is it for me?”
I swear this boy could see right through me. But I had to keep up the charade. I pushed my
hair back behind my shoulders and looked up at him from under my lashes. I closed the
distance between us and asked, “Why? Do you like it?”
Colin swallowed, staring at me. From that point, I could see his pupils dilating. “I, um…”
he started and then laughed nervously, arranging my books on his arm so that they were easier
for him to carry. “Well, it looks great on you, just…” He hesitated before handing me my
books back and slipping his backpack off. He unzipped the sweatshirt he was wearing and
draped it over my shoulders. It was still warm from his body heat and when I took a
clandestine sniff, I inhaled his scent—a mixture of cologne and laundry detergent and that
irresistible boy smell.
“I think it’ll be better if you put on a jacket or something,” he said, putting his bag back on.
Under the sweatshirt, he wore a gray V-neck. “Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or, you
know, catch some boys.”
He cares. And maybe he’s even a little jealous. The thought was so humbling, so
overwhelming, that for a moment I could only smile. I giggled behind my hand and said,
“Don’t worry, I think you scared off pretty much any guy who’d want to come near me.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Still, you wouldn’t like half of the things they’ll be
thinking of, even from faraway. So just keep it on, okay?” he asked and I nodded. “Well, I
have to bounce. History’s my first class and you know how Mrs. Keys is.”
“Oh, yeah sure,” I said, nodding and gesturing for him to go. He started to turn away and
my eyes traveled down to the back pocket of his jeans where my black notebook was peeking
out. I panicked, and before I could even settle on a decision, I hastily called after him,
“Colin!”
He looked back at me, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
“Can you—can you meet me under the bleachers later during lunch?” I swallowed
nervously, feeling my cheeks go warm.
He seemed pretty surprised, but if he thought my behavior was odd, he didn’t comment
about it. “Okay,” he shrugged.
“Okay.” I bit my lip. “So I’ll see you later?”
“See you,” he promised, smiling, and then left for his class. Once he was a couple of feet
away, I leaned back against the cold metal lockers and sighed. I clutched Colin’s jacket close
to me. I took a big gulp of air and pushed myself off the lockers, shaking my head and
heading to my own class.

***

I kicked at the ground with the heel of my boot, stabbing at the mud and grass as I waited for
Colin.
The sun was suspended high in the sky, glaring down on the open field like a bully that
wouldn’t let you go that easily, but the bleachers were able to provide some shade for me
despite the slivers of light that passed between them. I paced back and forth, and even with
Colin’s jacket on, I could feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.
To say that I was nervous was an understatement. I was nerve-wracked. Colin could come
any minute now and I had to do this right or I was going to lose my chance forever. I was a
little mouse preparing to grab for the cheese, knowing that if I didn’t do it as fast as I could
I’d get caught in the trap. Again.
I still wasn’t sure if I should really do this particular plan, since I didn’t want to kiss him or
even make out for this kind of reason. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I wanted every single
kiss to be real and heartfelt.
As if it was real and heartfelt on his side, I thought dejectedly.
Just on time, I heard the sound of footsteps crunching on the grass. I whirled around and
saw Colin jogging towards me, running a hand through his hair. He raised an arm to wave at
me and I waved back.
“Hey,” he said once he was only a foot away from me, “sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get past
Roman and the others without them following me here, but I took care of them. So why did
you want to meet up here—”
 This was it. I gathered up my courage and took a step forward so that we were just inches
away. I tentatively wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling him down towards me, kissing
him right on the lips.
My eyes were squeezed shut and I was probably a sloppy and pathetic kisser, but Colin
didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised, but he quickly fit into his role and kissed me back, his
hands resting on my waist.
I fought the waves of desire that washed over me, trying to drag me down to the
bottomless sea that was Colin. I guided my hand down his back, slowly making my way to
the black notebook, but before I could even reach it, Colin pulled away from me, breathless.
“Wow,” he said, grinning boyishly, “that was nice. But what was that for?”
My hand stayed completely frozen on the small of his back. I was so close. I smiled up at
him, the fingers of my free hand playing with the hair at the back of his neck. “Nothing. I just
figured you needed a kiss.” I didn’t give him a chance to reply and instead kissed him again,
this time pulling on his belt loops.
He smiled against my lips and leaned forward, pushing me back until I was pressed up
against a wall, trapped. I told myself to focus, my hand blindly searching for the leather skin
of the black notebook. For a moment I was able to brush its pages, but then Colin tilted my
head back to deepen the kiss, his hands trailing down my back, and I lost myself in him.
When we finally detached ourselves from each other, the bell was ringing in the distance.
Lunch period was over.
“As much as I’d love to go on,” he whispered to my ear, his breath warm, “we’re going to
be late if we don’t get back.”
I giggled and nodded, pushing him gently on the chest so I could remember what it was
like to breathe. “Yeah, we should get back.”
The shelter that the bleachers provided kept us from prying eyes, but the moment we
stepped out of its shadow, we were left in the open for anyone to spot. A couple of students
were jogging, their speeds directly proportional to how often the P.E. teacher blew the
whistle. Nobody saw us walking by, or, if some of them did, they pretended not to notice.
My heel got caught in the dirt and I wobbled a bit. I felt Colin’s hand close around my
wrist, steadying me, but even when I righted myself, he never let go. He held my hand,
fingers laced, and we swung them a bit, in tune to the rhythm of our footsteps.
What am I doing? I thought. I failed again. I should just give up. I’m always so close, but
it’s never enough, and I’m pretending to be the girlfriend of this guy, letting him kiss me and
play with me when he feels nothing for me. But I don’t want to let go either. How is it
possible to be this happy and sad at the same time?
We didn’t talk on the way to the main building, and I was grateful for that. A comfortable
silence dawned on us as we busied ourselves with our own respective thoughts. Soon, we
were ducking inside the entrance doors, making a short trip down a hall and then it was time
for us to go our separate ways.
Our classes were right across from each other, and we stood there on the borderline, still
holding hands while everyone else was getting settled in their seats in the classrooms.
At first, Colin was staring down at our joined hands, silent, and then he glanced up at me.
He looked confused as he asked, “Seven, are you okay?”
I mirrored his furrowed eyebrows. “What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine.” It was half-
true.
“No, it’s just…you don’t seem like yourself today.”
Giving him a reassuring smile, I slowly pulled my hand away from his grasp. “Really?” I
asked, hoping my voice didn’t betray me. “I don’t feel much of a difference.” It was entirely
false. I did feel something. I felt pained, like I was an empty water bottle twisted around just
because of somebody else’s boredom, the plastic creaking and crunching, already on the point
of snapping. I was a wire gone taut, stretched far past my limit.
This endless and blatantly hopeless chase after the notebook and now, my heart after
Colin, was tiring me out. It was about time I felt overwhelmed by it all.
“Are you sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I started walking backwards, toward
my classroom. “Of course I’m sure! We are talking about me here, right? This is normal—” I
staggered, and the back of my head connected with the door frame, earning me a bump.
“Ow,” I said, massaging my skull.
Colin stood by the door of his class, laughing. “You’re right. This is normal.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled and smiled—a gorgeous smile that was soft
and gentle and sweet as a fluffy pillow after an exhausting day. It was a smile that said that
they were proud of you. It made you want to smile too.
Bye, he mouthed.
Bye, I mouthed back. I give up, I thought. I can’t do this anymore.
 Entry 17: One Last Try

Date: April 10, 2013

“Alright, what have you done to my best friend?” Roman leaned his shoulder against the
locker beside mine and tilted his head to peer at my face.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?” I asked, calmly depositing my books without
looking at him. The skirt, the halter, and the heels were gone; I was back in my comfortable
blue jeans and sneakers, but I might as well have been naked in front of Roman’s questioning
gaze.
“Well, he said he was going to meet up with you yesterday.”
My eyes widened in immediate surprise at this, but I covered it up by blinking rapidly.
Colin told his friends about me? I originally thought he would do the contrary since we
weren’t even a real couple. Telling his friends he had a girlfriend when in fact he didn’t would
only complicate things…
As I considered the possibilities of why he did it, Roman continued, “We tried to follow
him but he managed to escape. He came back after lunch period with a grin literally splitting
his face. He looked happy drunk.” He shook his head in disbelief. “So, what did you do?”
I flushed. I had no idea I’d affected Colin in that way. But how could I? Ever since
yesterday’s lunch period, I’d tried my best to avoid him, pretend I couldn’t see him or hear
him whenever he called my name in the busy halls.
I’d already given up on the black notebook so I didn’t see any other reason to go out of
my way and talk to him. I wanted to, of course, but I was tired of this rollercoaster of ups and
downs, of actually hoping that he really did have feelings for me and then effectively
convincing myself that it was all just a joke to him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roman cocked an eyebrow. “You do know that your reddening face is betraying your
words, right?”
I glared at him for pointing it out, but it only made his smile grow wider. “So you
guys did do something.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I knew it. And to think I
had such faith in you, Seven, that you would resist Colin’s charms.”
“Look,” I sighed, “we didn’t do anything like that, okay?”
“Well, whatever it is you guys did and won’t tell me, it actually made him really happy,”
he said. “I’ve never seen him like this before. Maybe I did way back, but it’s probably been so
long that I’ve forgotten about it.”
I shook my head, keeping my hands busy with my books. “Nah, it can’t be me.”
Roman glanced up and, smiling, nodded his head towards someone over my shoulder.
“Why don’t you let him decide that for himself?”
 I whirled around, twisting to see what he meant. Colin stood just a classroom away from
us, stuffing a book inside his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. He looked up, casting a
glance over the crowd until he finally spotted Roman and me. He watched me tentatively,
cautiously, waiting for my response. A smile bloomed on my lips and only then did he grin.
Colin walked over to us and once he was right in front of me, he said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said shyly, feeling my heart leap, only to hurt like it always did whenever my
uncertainties of his intentions came rushing back.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just the wallpaper here,” Roman said sardonically, giving Colin
and me a look.
Colin laughed and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Good to see you too, buddy.”
“No, really,” Roman deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now—”
“No, it’s okay,” I quickly said. “I was just about to head to class anyway. You two go
together.”
Colin leaned close to whisper to me, “Do you want me to walk you to your class?”
“You are terrible at whispering,” Roman commented, shaking his head in disappointment.
I smiled at Roman and told Colin, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be okay.”
“Okay then.” He nodded. I started to leave, my sneaker already coming into contact with
the floor and squeaking, when he suddenly grabbed my arm. I looked back over my shoulder
at him and he asked, “Do you…do you want to hang out later after school?”
I blinked in surprise. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Kind of,” he shrugged, ”my mom wants to give you something, and I was thinking you
could stay for a while afterwards …” He smiled weakly. “Is there something wrong with
that?”
Say no. Say no. You don’t need to talk to his family and you don’t need to hang out,
especially not with him. Just keep your distance and actually get a move on. “I guess not,” I
answered instead, smiling back at him. “So, yeah, I’m free anyway.”
His green eyes lit up. “That’s great! So I—I’ll see you later okay? Let’s meet up, say, by
the gate? I can be there right after school ends.”
“Okay,” I said. “Yeah, that would be perfect.”
“Okay,” he laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. All around us, the school bell
resonated against the walls. Colin had to raise his voice over it, plus the shuffling of feet.
“Bye, Seven!”
I waved goodbye and went on to my next class, hoping I hadn’t made a mistake I was
soon going to regret.

***

The day felt almost empty without the teeming of murmured stories and secrets, and it was
strange to walk in these same halls, talking to people but not having to keep any more of their
secrets. It made me consider the possibility that they’d actually run out of secrets to tell.
It was only during the period before lunch that the world seemed normal again.
“Seven,” Amy said, her voice snatching me out of my daydream.
I turned to her and smiled. “Hey, what’s up?”
 She bent towards me and grinned as she whispered, “So, remember last time when I told
you I wanted to get Tim’s number?”
“Tim…oh, Timothy? Yeah, I remember,” I said, and I actually did. I looked around our
classroom and spotted his dark head near the front with his friends. “So? Were you able to get
it?”
“Mm-hmm,” she sang cheerfully, her eyes flickering towards Tim before returning to me.
“I was able to text with him a couple of times. We talk more often nowadays, actually. He
even confessed that he doesn’t know how to swim!” she gushed. “And he’s being all shy
about it because he thinks people will make fun of him and stuff, so please don’t tell anyone
okay? Darn, he’s so cute.” She sighed dreamily and I laughed, observing her as she went on
about Timothy, a light in her eyes.
It’s amazing how one person can change everything around you. They can turn your
storms into sunshine and make your empty gray canvas a bright array of colors and light. And
when you’re with that one person who has your heart in their hands, everything’s just perfect.
Until it’s not anymore.

***

As he promised, by the time I arrived at the gates from my last class, Colin was already
standing, waiting, hands in his pockets and his bottom lip in between his teeth. I resisted the
urge to run at him and jump into the safety of his arms. Stupid hormones.
I walked casually towards him, nodding in acknowledgement at the other people who
passed me by. When I came to a stop in front of him, he was already smiling down at me.
“Ready to go?” he asked, to which I nodded.
Even though school was just let out, there were already empty spaces among the many
other cars in the senior parking lot. Colin led me to his pickup truck, but as he did I couldn’t
help noticing the stares I was getting. Like yesterday with the boys, it was subtle but
undeniable.
There were a couple of students hanging out in the lot, sitting on the hood of their cars and
listening to music or just about to get into their cars, and as we strolled past them, their
glances turned into stares and their chattering turned into murmurs.
I refused to show that I was bothered by it, but the moment I slid into Colin’s car and
slammed the door shut, I blurted, “They were all staring at us.”
He looked up and squinted through the windshield, as if only realizing it. “Huh. You’re
right.” He shrugged as he shoved the key into the ignition and started up the engine. “I
wouldn’t mind them if I were you. They always assume the worse when they don’t know the
full story.” He turned to me. “Are you okay with all of this? Maybe I shouldn’t have asked
you to meet up with me…”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, shaking my head. “I can take it.”
“If you’re sure…” he trailed off hesitantly as he eased the car out of the parking space. He
expertly maneuvered it around the lot until we were finally away from those prying eyes.
We didn’t talk at first during the drive. Since I’d given up trying to retrieve the black
notebook, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t know about Colin, but I was feeling a
little awkward, like I was supposed to fill in the silent and blank atmosphere or something.
 We pulled to a stop because of some traffic lights, and that was when Colin broke the
tension and asked me about my day. I wasn’t used to this civil, friendly exchange we were
having, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like it.
Thankfully, I was able to relax after talking. If I’d said too much, he didn’t complain; he
listened the entire time, nodding occasionally, laughing at some points and inserting his own
humorous comments. We went on like this, just talking, and the car ride seemed all too short.
Soon, we reached his place. His mom was preparing some ham and cheese sandwiches
when we barged into the living room.
“I’m home, Mom,” Colin announced, pocketing his keys and throwing his backpack at the
couch. He told me to sit anywhere I liked and went off to the kitchen to find his mother. I
tentatively sat down on the white couch, feeling the leathery texture with the tips of my
fingers.
A minute later, Colin came back in carrying a tray that held a plate of sandwiches and
some juice. His mom was right at his heels and she greeted me the moment she laid eyes on
me. “It’s good to see you again, dear!” she said, moving to give me a firm hug.
I hugged her back, inhaling the scent of her musky perfume. “You too, Mrs. Stillman,” I
said, smiling. “So, Colin said you wanted to give something to me?”
She snapped her slender fingers, her coral-colored fingernails glistening with the light.
“That’s right! Just wait right here—eat some sandwiches—and I’ll be back.” She turned on
her heel and hurried away.
I looked over at the sandwiches, one of them already in Colin’s stomach and another in
his mouth. I watched him with a cocked eyebrow as he finished it off in a few bites. “What?”
he asked defensively, his words muffled by the sandwich. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
I bit my lip, wanting to argue, but I ended up reaching for a sandwich anyway. Colin
laughed as I gingerly nibbled on it, and handed me a glass of orange juice. “Here you go.”
Mrs. Stillman noticeably took a while longer than I expected to get whatever it she was
going to give me, to the point that Cass already came home from school and she still didn’t
return.
Cass strolled into the room, holding her bag by the crook of her elbow and sifting through
a handful of envelopes. “Colin Stillman, you are such a coward,” she said without looking up.
“You said you would take Seven out on a date but you’re here and—oh, hi Seven!”
I grinned at her. “Nice to see you too, Cass.”
She gave Colin an apologetic shrug, but he just glared at her, savaging the sandwich in his
hand with his teeth.
Cass cleared her throat. “I, uh, saw your car and thought you didn’t—”
“Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Right,” she said awkwardly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Well, I’m
just going to leave these here,” she slipped out two envelopes from the pile in her hands and
dumped the rest on the coffee table, “and I’ll be up in my room if you need me.”
“I assure you we won’t,” Colin mumbled under his breath.
Without another word, she dashed up the stairs and to her room. From where I was sitting,
I could see lavender wallpaper and a shelf of stuffed toys through the opened door. When she
slammed it shut, my eyes drifted over to the bathroom door, firmly closed. And then I glanced
at the door beside it—Colin’s room.
 It was half-open, allowing me a tiny peek of his walls covered in paper and graphite and
artistry. It beckoned to me, luring me to take the chance.
I ripped my attention away from his bedroom door just as Mrs. Stillman returned. She
smiled as she approached, holding a neatly folded paper. “I looked through my mother’s old
recipe books,” she told me as she handed the paper to me, “and found a lot of great meals
your mother can try making. She’s a fantastic cook and I’d be really glad to share ideas and
recipes with her. I left my phone number in here if she wants to contact me. Will you please
give this to her?”
“Yeah, it won’t be a problem,” I assured her, stuffing the paper in a small pocket inside
my bag.
“Thank you, dear,” she said, smiling down at me. She gestured at Colin and me. “So are
the two of you planning on going out?”
I looked back at him. “Are we?”
“Sure, why not?” he shrugged, dusting off the breadcrumbs on his hands. His mom
frowned at him and planted her hands on her hips but Colin pretended he couldn’t feel the
heat of her gaze. “Let’s go?”
“Um,” I cast one more glance at his bedroom door, left ajar, almost like it was just for me.
“I…have to use the bathroom first.”
“It’s upstairs,” Mrs. Stillman informed me, before turning to her son. “And Colin, while
you’re out, please take Lassie with you.”
“Mom,” I heard him say as I made my way up the stairs. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No, I’m not. Just because you’re going on a date doesn’t mean you can going to shrug
off your responsibilities…” Her voice faded into silence as mother and son left the living
room.
I stared at Colin’s bedroom door. Just walk away, I told myself. Give it up. You’ll never
get it back. I knew it was the truth, but I reasoned that the black notebook could be right there,
waiting for me to grab it and go. I couldn’t just let this opportunity escape from me. Not
again.
I sneaked one last peek downstairs to be sure that Colin and his mom were gone before
walking determinedly towards Colin’s room. I was just passing by the bathroom when I heard
the toilet flush and then the door swung open.
My heart leapt up to my throat and I whirled around to see who it was.
Mr. Stillman froze at the door of the bathroom, his green eyes settling on me. He was
obviously surprised to see me in his home again so soon after I’d said those things to him and
for a moment we stayed absolutely still.
And then he blinked and cleared his throat. “Hello, Seven.”
“H-Hi, Mr. Stillman,” I said, bowing my head a little. I shuffled my feet nervously,
suddenly fascinated with the wooden floorboards.
“Are you going to use the bathroom?”
“What?” I snapped my head up and blinked. “Oh, yeah, I was—I mean, I am…going to
use the bathroom. Sorry.”
Mr. Stillman moved out of the way and I had no choice but to step inside the cool tiled
room. Towels hung on the racks and colorful rubber ducks lined the windowsill. A sweet-
scented air freshener sat by the toilet. I was about to close the door and spend the next four
minutes pretending I was doing my business just so he wouldn’t suspect a thing, when he
said, “Wait.”
I did as he said and looked over my shoulder at him. Mr. Stillman seemed different since
the last time I saw him. The lines on his face weren’t as hard and there was something about
his eyes and the way his shoulder sloped down that told me he was tired. Now he had his lips
pursed and his dark eyebrows were on the brink of meeting. He focused his steady gaze on
me and I held my breath for what he had to say, but what he came out with was definitely
something I would never have expected from him. “Thank you.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “What…are you thanking me for?”
He sighed, long and heavy, and shook his head. “I knew Colin had always hated me for
what I did to his mother and, to be honest, I kind of hate myself too.” He paused, gathering
his thoughts. “And I knew—no, I thought…I thought he would never forgive me for that, but
the thing is, he did.”
“Colin…” My mind traveled back through time to that video call, that moment I told him
to forgive his dad. He really did it, I thought. He listened to me.
“Colin forgave me,” Mr. Stillman continued, “and I want to thank you, Seven, for telling
him to.”
I knitted my eyebrows together. “How do you know it was me who told him to?”
He chuckled. The only other time I’d heard him laugh was when he was mocking Colin at
the dining table the other night. But this time, it wasn’t full of spite. He actually sounded
amused. “Colin said so. He said that he only forgave me because of you.”
“I…” My tongue was all tied up. No way. He couldn’t have done it just for me.
“You don’t owe me anything, Seven, so I won’t tell you to do this for me,” he said,
grinning a smile that was almost as bright as Colin’s, “but don’t break his heart.”
He left without waiting for my response and I watched him retreat to the door at the very
end of the hall, my mouth opening and closing like fish’s. I shook my head as the door closed
behind him and returned to my real mission.
Don’t break his heart. The words echoed inside my body, ringing in my bones and
through every cell. How could I break it if it isn’t even with me? I pushed on the door,
opening it a little wider, and slid inside Colin’s room. I calmly paced around the bed, around
the things scattered carelessly on the floor, searching with my hands and eyes.
I found it on his desk, just sitting there among the sketches and scratch papers. I noticed
more drawings of that dark haired girl I saw in his sketchpad before, but all I could see was
the black notebook right in front of me.
It stank of a trap.
I tentatively reached towards it and took it into my hands. I thumbed the pages at the side
and ran my palm across the leather cover. I counted from ten backwards in my head and I felt
like a little kid, expecting some kind of rocket blast to come after reaching the number one,
but there was none. Colin wasn’t around to catch me.
I glanced back down at the black notebook. I couldn’t believe it. I’d finally got it back.
I broke into a smile and was about to leaf through it to check if there were any missing
pages when a pair of strong, familiar arms went around me, effectively slamming the
notebook closed before I could look inside.
I yelped, unable to move as Colin lowered his mouth to my ear. “What do you think
you’re doing?” I could feel his breath at the back of my neck.
 I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to slow down my racing heart. I swallowed before
answering, “Taking back what’s mine.”
In one quick swipe, the black notebook was out of my hands and in Colin’s. He shoved it
in his back pocket, way out of my reach, and smirked at me. “No you’re not.”
My fingers curled into a fist, my nails stabbing my skin. The words were at my throat, on
my tongue, ready to lash out at him, to argue and beg for the black notebook just as I’d done
for the past few weeks since I’d first lost it. And for a second there, it seemed like Colin was
expecting me to snap and bark at him—but just like that, any explosive anger I had in me
dissipated.
I was done. I didn’t want to fight for it anymore.
I sagged like a deflated balloon, lowering my gaze to the floor so nobody could see the
tears welling up in my eyes. If it weren’t for his hand on my arm, I would’ve ran out of the
room and never returned.
“Seven?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry as he peered at my face.
When I didn’t reply, he pushed my hair back behind my ear and cupped my face, trying to
get me to look at him, but I refused to spare him even a glance. If I did, I just might cry.
“Hey, Col, have you seen Seven? Mom said she was in the bathroom but she’s not—”
Cass stumbled into the room, only to take a step back in surprise when she saw me. Obviously
not noticing the tension in the air, she laughed. “Get a room!”
“Technically, we are in one,” Colin said matter-of-factly. From the corner of my eye, I
sensed him cast a look in my direction. “You know what, it’s getting crowded in here. Let’s
go out.” He clenched his fingers around the muscle of my forearm, most likely expecting a
resistance, but I went along like a lifeless puppet, letting him lead me out of his room and
down the stairs.
Mrs. Stillman was waiting by the living room, holding a red leash meant for Lassie.
“We’re leaving, Mom,” he said, taking his backpack with one arm, never letting me go.
Mrs. Stillman gave him the leash and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Okay, be safe, you
two,” she said, waving us off. “Don’t be out too late and make sure to take Seven home!”
“I will,” he promised as he gently pushed me out of the front door.
Once he called Lassie out of her doghouse and up to the back of his truck, hooking the
leash to her collar, he opened the door for me. While I climbed into the passenger seat, Colin
circled around to the driver’s side and jumped behind the wheel. He turned around to look at
me and asked, “So, ready to go?”
No. “Yeah,” I managed to say, my eyes focused straight ahead. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Colin watched me for a few seconds, perhaps contemplating on the sudden monotonous
tone I’d adopted, or maybe he was just staring at my face for no apparent reason. But if he
noticed anything strange about me, he didn’t say anything.
He turned away to the front and brought the engine to life. The moment I was certain he
wasn’t looking, I hurriedly blinked back my unshed tears. I heard Lassie bark from the back
as we pulled out of the driveway.
When I felt his hand reach for mine across the car seat, I should’ve said something,
should’ve pulled away or even told him to stop the car so I could get out. But I didn’t do any
of these things.
Instead I wound my fingers through his and held on tight, even when I already should’ve
let him go.
 Entry 18: Fortunate Misfortunes

Date: April 10, 2013

“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked when trees with budding leaves flew past us and
unfamiliar buildings lined either side of the road.
Colin sighed, delaying his answer. He kept his hand on the wheel and his eyes on the
road, making me wonder if he hadn’t heard me, but the smile that pulled at the corner of his
mouth proved otherwise.
“I don’t know, actually,” he said. “I'm just driving around because I need some time to
consider a lot of things…and to explore L.A. one last time.”
I snapped my head towards him. “Hold on, why would it be the last time?”
He licked his lips, savoring the taste of his words before letting them out. “My dad finally
allowed me to study in Chicago.”
“What? He did?” I asked, dumbfounded. Colin nodded quietly in answer. I leaned back in
my seat, feeling suddenly claustrophobic inside his truck.
He was leaving. Even way back in freshman year when I developed a crush for him, I
knew that someday Colin would graduate and leave for college, while I would be left, stuck in
high school for one more year. But now that it was staring at me right in the face, I wasn’t
sure how to take it. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten to know Colin, if I hadn’t spoken to him and
spent all these weeks with him, maybe I could’ve accepted it a little easier.
But now, I couldn’t imagine going through each day of my senior year without seeing him
running down the halls with his friends and joking around in class and making everyone near
him laugh.
I turned to look over at him, biting my lip. “So…are you going?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been dreaming of this since I realized I wanted to be an
architect,” he said, shrugging. And then he grinned. “Will you miss me?”
I opened my mouth, ready to deny it, but he suddenly pulled the car to a stop and leaned
towards the dashboard, narrowing his eyes at a certain building. It was large, big enough to
occupy a thousand or more people, with tiny fine-line cracks that gave it an abandoned
feeling, and was set on a wide-spaced lot with cars surrounding it. The only entrance to it was
a pair of double doors.
“What is that?”
I squinted at what he was pointing at—a poster—and took in the picture of four men with
shoulder-length hair and noticeable tattoos on their arms. Two carried guitars or basses—I
could never tell the difference—and one was acting as if he was screaming at a microphone. I
read out the words printed below their faces.
“Fortunate Misfortunes,” I said. “It’s a…band, apparently, and it looks like they’re
playing in”—I glanced at the time—“oh, they’re playing right now.”
 “Do you know that band?” he asked.
“No,” I shook my head. “Do you?”
With a wicked smile, he said, “Now I do. Come on.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and
started to get out of the car.
“Colin! Where are you going?” I asked, taken aback, but he was already outside. He
jogged to my side of the car and opened the door. “Come on. Let’s go see if Fortunate
Misfortunes is any good.”
I took his offered hand and dropped to the ground. “Wait, you have tickets?”
“Nope,” he said as he removed Lassie’s leash and led her down the truck. He guided her
inside the truck and told Lassie to stay still, although with the doors locked and I doubted
she’d be going anywhere.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “But…how are we even going to get in? Where are
we going to sit?”
“You go to a concert because of the music,” Colin said, guiding me forward by the small
of my back, “and you don’t have to get in to listen.”
He led me towards the double doors, looking around the place to see if there was anybody
watching. When he was sure the coast was clear, we ducked inside.
“What if we get into trouble?” I asked as we walked down a dimly lit hallway. I could
hear the thumping sound of a bass and then the magnified voice of—I could only assume—
the lead singer. We followed the sound to another pair of double doors, this time with
flickering lights escaping underneath.
“If that happens, then we run,” he said, raising a hand to knock on the door. It took a
couple of tries before it finally swung inward.
A balding man in a black T-shirt answered the door, giving us a belittling look even
before we spoke of our intentions. Over his shoulder, I could just see a great crowd gathered
in front of a stage that was so brightly lit by colored lights that I couldn’t even see the band
playing. I could hear them though, and they seemed pretty good.
“Tickets are sold out,” the man informed us, raising his voice over the noise.
“This is the Fortunate Misfortunes concert, right?” Colin asked, shouting right at the
man’s ear.
“Yeah, but like I said, the tickets are sold out.”
“That’s fine,” Colin said, smiling, “thanks man.”
The bouncer looked confused, obviously not used to this kind of reaction whenever he
told anyone that tickets were sold out, but he didn’t complain. He grunted and slammed the
door close.
“So, what now?” I asked.
Colin dusted off a spot near the doors with his hand and sat down. “Now we sit. You can
hear it better from here.” He shrugged his jacket off, laid it on the floor beside him, and then
looked up expectantly at me.
I hesitated for a moment and then sighed, sitting down on his jacket. “Thanks,” I
mumbled. When I leaned back against the wall, though, I was pleasantly surprised to find
Colin’s arm there, ready to wrap around me. He pulled me close so that my head was on his
shoulder, fitting perfectly like a missing puzzle piece to the crook of his neck, and I took a
minute to calm my heartbeat down.
 But putting that aside, he was right: the previously muffled sounds were now clearer, and
I could actually catch the lyrics to the song currently playing.
“They’re good,” I commented after listening for a while.
“Yeah, they are,” he agreed, nodding. “Watching me…with those eyes of yours…” he
sang along, glancing at me for dramatic effect. I laughed, shaking my head at him.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered to me. “You can hear it better when you’re not distracted
by your other senses.”
“Really?” I asked, doing as he said. My closed eyelids soon swallowed up what little light
the hallway had. It was true that I could focus on the song better now, but it didn’t really
make much of a difference. “It’s just the same, really,” I said, blinking my eyes open and
turning to Colin. I’d expected him to have his eyes closed too, but he was already staring at
me and smiling, his face so close it would only take a few inches for me to kiss him.
“Well, it was worth a try, right?” he said softly, his nose rubbing against mine, eyes
settled on my lips.
I quickly looked away, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Y-Yeah, I guess.”
We didn’t talk for the rest of the time as we listened to Fortunate Misfortune’s other
songs. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what type of songs they sang. Their songs talked about
different things—one was about a mother who sacrificed everything for her son, and another
was about a goldfish.
When a slow love song came up though, Colin nudged my head with his cheek. “Hey,
let’s dance.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. “You mean—right here?”
“Yeah,” he said, easing his arm out from behind me and pushing himself off the floor,
“why not?” He grabbed my hands, pulling me up to my feet. “Come on.”
“But my dancing’s rusty,” I whined.
He laughed. “It’s okay. I have two left feet. We’re perfect for each other,” he said and
then looked down at our hands like you would look at a math problem. “Okay so, first off,
what am I—I mean, where do I—?”
“L-Like this,” I said, taking one of his hands and, a little shyly, guiding it to my waist. He
smiled at my embarrassment as I placed my hand on his shoulder. “And I hold on to you
here.”
“Got it,” he said, winking. “And what about my other hand? Does it go like this?” He
wound his arms around my waist and jerked me towards him. I gasped, surprised to find
myself suddenly so near him. His forehead came flush with mine and he chuckled, his breath
like the soft wing of an angel brushing against my skin.
“No, it does not,” I said, laughing as I pushed him away.
“Okay, sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, grinning mischievously. “It’s like this,
right?” He slipped his hand over mine and laced our fingers together.
“Yeah, exactly,” I said. “Now you just…go with the music.” I stepped to the right,
tugging at him to follow me. He did it mechanically, sometimes stepping on the toe of my
sneakers and cursing under his breath and apologizing, but he wasn’t all that bad.
“That’s it. You’re doing it,” I said encouragingly, watching him fumble his way through
the simple, repetitive dance steps.
“You’ve learned how to dance before,” he stated. It wasn’t a question, but I nodded. “I
took dancing lessons once because of a friend’s birthday party,” I said.
 Colin smirked. “Dang, so I’m not your first dance?”
“Well, I could always reconsider.”
He grinned at that. “So, why do you think the band’s called Fortunate Misfortunes? Isn’t it
just contradicting itself?” he asked as he twirled me around and caught me again, pulling me
close.
I chewed on my lip, carefully thinking it over. “It’s a paradox,” I finally said. “We make
mistakes, things happen and they don’t necessarily go our way, but maybe the reason we
didn’t get the gold was because we were supposed to get the platinum. So to say, it’s actually
good—fortunate—that we didn’t get what we want, because if we did, we wouldn’t have
gotten something better. You know, like a blessing in disguise.”
Colin nodded slowly, taking in my words. “Do you have any fortunate misfortunes?” he
asked.
I pondered over it. I’d had a lot of shortcomings and misfortunes happen in my life—one
of them being the black notebook and how I’d lost it. But if it weren’t for that misfortune I
wouldn’t have gotten the chance to really know Colin like this. If all of this hadn’t happened,
I’d probably still be at home, studying for tests and reading books, watching reality shows
with my mom and waiting for my dad to come home while other people’s secrets and
problems dominated my world.
“Do you?” I asked.
“Hey, I asked first,” he countered.
“Well…” I hesitated before smiling up at him. "I'll answer after you do."
He gave me a look, and finally gave in. "Fine," he said. "I do have fortunate misfortunes.
There was this…one time I got into trouble because I broke a school window by accidentally
throwing a ball."
"That was you?" I asked incredulously. I’d heard about it but I never asked about the
details.
"Yeah," he said, laughing softly to himself. "And I was sent to the principal's office, and
on my way there, I met…a girl. She was looking for a notebook she lost.”
"Oh." His words would’ve made me happy, but the mention of my notebook brought back
all the negative thoughts and conflicted feelings I’d been having. Colin was watching me and
I couldn't let it show, so I looked away.
"Okay, now you," he said. "Do you have any fortunate misfortunes?"
I looked up and forced a smile. "Yes."
He looked at me, waiting for me to expound, but I just looked right back at him. "What?"
I asked. "I don't have to tell you exactly what fortunate misfortune I've had."
He burst out laughing and said, "Dang. You got me there. Fine, you sly, sly cat."
I laughed, shaking my head at him.
The music faded away, and although only silence filled the empty hallway, we continued
swaying to our own beat. I fluttered my eyes close. Peace dwelled in my heart. Maybe it
wouldn’t be there forever, but it was for just that infinitely small moment.
Despite knowing I was dancing with the very reason for all the heartbreaks I’ve had and
was surely going to get, I was at peace. Why couldn’t moments like this last? Moments when
we aren’t arguing, when we aren’t chasing each other like a hound after a fox—moments
when a boy and a girl are simply caught in the suspension of time, stuck in a bubble that no
one but they can enter.
 Unfortunately, this certain bubble Colin and I were in quickly vanished into air when the
doors to the concert flew open and people rushed out like blood flowing out of a wound. We
barely managed to get out of the way in time, ending up pressed against the wall, practically
disappearing into the cement.
A chattering group of teenage girls passed by us and sent furtive glances at Colin who was
oblivious to the whole thing. They giggled among themselves and I frowned, just before
realizing that our hands were right beside each other; his little finger, cold and pale in the
shadows, brushing mine.
I slipped my fingers through his, surprising him and myself, but the desired impact was
there: the girls looked at our joined hands and slowly drifted away, speaking in low voices
and looking back over their shoulders at us.
“What’s wrong?” Colin asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Nothing,” I said, but based on his smirk I obviously hadn’t improved in the art of lying.
“Come on,” he said, squeezing my hand, “we have to walk Lassie first before we go back
home.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding quietly. He tugged at my hand, leading me through the crowd like
a boat pushing through harsh waters. We left the building and went over to his truck where
Lassie was scratching the window and panting on it. Colin approached the car door, and the
moment he unlocked it, Lassie jumped out and started barking at us.
“Whoa, girl, calm down,” Colin said, taking a firm grip on her leash.
Lassie stopped struggling, and it was only then that Colin looked at me and smiled. “So,
what did you think?”
“Of what?”
“Of the concert,” he said, checking if the locks to the car were secured.
“It was great,” I said, “for a concert I didn’t attend and that I only listened to from the
outside.”
Colin laughed, gently pushing Lassie forward with his foot. There was a park right across
with large trees and families spread out on blankets, bringing out sandwiches in baskets, and
artists carrying their sketchpads and cameras, ready to capture anything extraordinary. “Yeah,
this was kind of impromptu,” he said as we headed towards it.
I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Kind of?”
“Hey,” he said defensively. “I was feeling spontaneous. Besides—”
I didn’t get to hear the rest of what he was going to say because a squirrel picked that
exact moment to run in front of us and Lassie immediately dashed forward to chase after it.
Colin yanked at her leash, but he had been taken by surprise and soon enough he lost his
hold and she was on the loose.
Colin hurried forward in the hopes of catching her before she could get too far, but she
had already started towards the park and disappeared between the bushes. He sprang to a
sprint, yelling, “Lassie! Lassie, come back!”
“Colin, wait!” I said, scrambling after him. For a while, I was able to keep up with him,
and being able to run side by side with someone who was commendably good at any physical
activity gave me a little push to run even further. After how many twists and turns and hops
over fallen branches, however, my body was beginning to remind me I wasn’t an athlete.
“If I don’t find her, my family’s going to kill me!” Colin declared, going faster. “Come
on, she couldn’t have gotten far!”
 “Yeah…you…you’re right…” I panted, trying not to give in to the ache in my legs.
When he finally stopped, probably realizing that Lassie did get far enough, I felt like I
could use a new lung. I bent over, hands clasped firmly on my knees, heaving.
“You okay?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. Of course, he was barely
sweating.
I didn’t bother answering. I raised a hand, giving him a thumbs-up. No need to waste such
precious breath talking.
“Well, good news is that this is probably just a small park,” Colin went on, “and her collar
has her name on it anyway, and my address, so in case someone else finds her, they’ll know
she has an owner. Still, I think we should split up and call each other if either of us finds her.”
I straightened up and coughed. “Sounds…sounds good.”
“Okay, I’ll go this way,” he said, pointing to the right, “and you can go that way,” he
continued, pointing the opposite direction.
“Alright,” I said, nodding. He asked one last time if I was okay and then he was off,
jogging towards his self-appointed direction. I turned towards mine and cleared my throat
before calling out, “Lassie! Come out, girl! Lassie!”
I tiptoed over a bunch of gnarled roots and picked up my pace. I spent at least five
minutes going around aimlessly, shouting Lassie’s name, until I bumped into a group of
friends sitting under the shade of a tree. I asked if they’d seen a golden retriever passing by,
trailing a squirrel, and they said they had. They narrated the way Lassie had gone and with a
quick thank you I was running again.
“Lassie!” I called out once again. And then I heard a bark.
I spun around, trying to see where it came from, and spotted a splash of gold fur among
the browns and greens of the park.
Lassie was sitting on her hind legs in front of a tree, her head raised high as she stared at
the squirrel, which was hiding safely up on a branch. Another squirrel appeared beside the
first one and Lassie moved forward, scratching the bark of the tree like she wanted to join
them up there.
“Oh, Lassie,” I said, sinking down to the ground beside her. “Don’t ever do that again.” I
reached out to ruffle her fur and she turned to me, tongue lolling. She barked at me in
recognition and then started licking my cheek.
“Okay, okay, stop!” I giggled, trying to push her bulk off me. “I missed you too! Now I
have to call Colin!” I took hold of her leash, like I saw Colin do, and fished my phone out of
my pocket. I dialed his number and pressed it to my ear.
“Seven!” Colin answered at the first ring. “What happened? Did you find her?”
“Yeah, I did,” I said, and he sighed in relief on the other side of the line. “Okay. Okay,
where are you?” he asked.
“Um, it all looks the same from here. Wait,” I told him and looked around. “I think I can
see…a family cookout in the distance. Yeah, they’re grilling burgers, I think. They’re using a
moss green tent.”
“Got it. I think I saw that a while ago,” he said. “Don’t move. I’ll be right there.” And
then the line went dead.
I pocketed my phone and glanced at Lassie, who watched me expectantly with her big
brown eyes. I extended my hand to scratch her just below the jaw and as she closed her eyes
briefly, I sighed. The spring breeze was cool, blowing my hair back gently, and everything
around me was silent. I always found solitary peace within the four walls of my bedroom,
with a book in my hand and soft music playing in the background, but I never thought I could
find it in a wide-open park with leaves falling and a dog in front of me.
“You know,” I said, “you and your owner are so alike.” Lassie didn’t mind me; she was
too busy enjoying my scratch. “I’m always chasing after him. I’ve been doing it for quite a
while now…and it’s getting really tiring, especially when at times he seems so impossible to
handle.” I didn't know what was up with me, but the words kept spilling out. “I know I should
give up and I already promised myself I would…but I still haven’t. At least not in my heart.”
A twig snapped. I froze, eyes wide and heart racing, and slowly pivoted in my place to
look around, but no one was there. I was all alone.
After one last suspicious glance at my surroundings, I relaxed and resumed my scratching
on Lassie, who whined when I had stopped. “You must have it easy, Lass,” I continued. “It
must be easy to just be a dog. You don’t have to love anyone besides your owner. It’s hard,
you see, being in love with someone who doesn’t love you.” I paused and laughed softly to
myself. “What’s happening to me? I’m talking to a dog about love. I’m just…so stupid.”
Once again, silence took over. It filled the air, leaving me to my thoughts, until someone
coughed, disturbing its reign. I gasped, jumping guiltily, and whirled around, spinning so fast
that I fell on my butt.
Colin was leaning against a tree with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and I was pretty
sure he was within earshot. He watched me with steady, calculating green eyes.
I felt like climbing up a tree and hiding from him, like the squirrel.
He heard me. He must’ve heard me, my mind screamed in panic. Gosh, how long has he
been standing there?
“C-Colin,” I stuttered. “I didn’t see you there. Why didn’t you make a sound?”
He pushed himself off the tree and walked towards me in slow, careful steps. “I did,” he
said. “I coughed. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Oh,” I said quietly. “So…you just got here?” I tentatively got up to my knees, never
tearing my eyes away from him. “Did you, um, hear anything?”
He didn’t answer immediately, which simply extended my agony. He reached down and
grabbed Lassie’s collar. She barked at him and he ran his hand fondly over her fur. Finally, he
looked over at me with a cocked eyebrow and a lopsided grin. “What, you mean your little
chat with Lassie? Yes, I heard you, but I didn’t catch the words in time.”
It took a Herculean effort not to sigh in relief right there in front of him, but I did breathe
a little easier.
“Why?” he asked curiously, narrowing his eyes at me. “Did you say something
important?” His eyes lit up with interest.
“No, I didn’t,” I quickly denied, standing up and busying myself with brushing off dirt
from my jeans so I’d have a reason not to look at him, “and even if I did, I obviously
wouldn’t tell you.”
Colin stared at me for a second longer and then he turned away, tugging Lassie after him.
I blinked in surprise. I’d expected a condescending laugh, a chuckle or even a smile—but he
simply looked away.
I didn’t think about it too much though. As long as the spotlight wasn’t on me, I was
happy.
 We decided to take Lassie once around the park and then call it a day. We walked
quietly—the only sounds around us were Lassie’s chain clinking, the birds chirping, and the
soft crunch underneath our shoes. A little while later, I could already see Colin’s truck up
ahead in the distance.
I strode straight towards it, going a little ahead of Colin and Lassie, but a hand captured
my wrist and stopped me. I looked back and saw that Colin had stopped, and he was holding
onto my arm like a lifeline.
“What is it?” I asked.
He swallowed, hesitating, before saying, “Seven, I have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, looking at him cautiously. “What’s up?”
“I…” He paused, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he thought meticulously
about what he was going to say. “I think I…”
My heart pounded as I thought of the possibilities of what his next words could be. I love
you. I never want to see you again. I’m gay.
“I had a great time today,” he suddenly blurted out in one breath.
“Oh,” I couldn’t help saying in disappointment. I tried a smile and said, “Yeah, me too.”
“Good,” he said, nodding. His eyes drifted down to his sneakers and he cleared his throat.
“I, uh, better get you home now.”
“Yeah,” I said, still not moving an inch.
“Okay,” he said, taking the first step towards his truck. I followed suit behind him, my
fingers fiddling with the cuffs of my sweater. We let Lassie sit with us in the front, Colin
opened the door for me again, and then we were on the road back home.
 Entry 19: All Good Things Come To an End

Date: April 11, 2013

The next day at school almost everyone was talking about the upcoming prom. Even as early
as now, guys were already asking for dates and girls were getting ready with their best prom
dress designs. Posters were being put up on the walls, displaying pictures of prom queen and
king candidates.
“Do you already have a dress in mind?” Amy asked me as we walked down the hallway
and to our next class. We passed by a group of girls taping a couple more posters on some
lockers. One of them handed us fliers with a picture of a cheerleader winking and giving a
thumbs-up. Below, in bold pink letters, it said, “Vote for Jenny!”
“Not really,” I answered honestly, once we’d left those girls behind us. “I’d always
pictured that perfect dress, but I’d never get the right one…”
The truth was, I just hadn’t had the time to think of anything else besides the notebook for
the past month.
Ever since I entered high school, I always looked forward to proms. Each year I’d hoped
Colin would notice me and miraculously ask me to go with him, but I always ended up sitting
at the sidelines with a guy friend who didn’t have anyone else better to go with, watching
Colin on the dance floor with some gorgeous girl in a beautiful gown.
I wasn’t expecting anything all that different this year.
At least you got to dance with him at that concert, I told myself reassuringly.
“I’m thinking of an ocean blue color,” Nicole, one of Amy’s closest friends, said, eyes
glued to the ceiling as she pictured her dream dress. I didn’t hang out with her that often, but
she too shared some dirty little secrets with me. “Not just one solid color, but different shades
of blue all together.”
“That would go well with those silver heels you just bought!” Amy exclaimed, excitement
clear in her voice.
“You’re right,” Nicole said, nodding in satisfaction. “Perfect! Now all I need is a date to
prom.”
“I know,” Amy agreed, pouting. “Prom is still a month away, but most of the girls I know
have already been asked!”
Nicole turned to her with a knowing smile. “Do you have any guys you’d want asking you
in mind?”
Amy hesitated, cutting a quick glance to my direction. She shrugged. “No one in
particular,” she said, but I knew she wanted Tim to ask her. I decided to help her a little.
“You can just go with a friend, you know,” I said. “Why not just go with that boy you sit
beside in Geom? His name’s Timothy, right?”
“Oh, right, Tim,” she said, trying not to blush. “I almost forgot about him.”
Nicole laughed, tossing her blonde hair back. “Good luck with that,” she said. “It seems
like he’s not interested in asking anyone to prom.”
 “Really?” Amy asked, shocked. Her eyes fell to the floor. “W-Well, I have plenty other
guy friends so…” She did her best to act nonchalant, but I could see chips in that armor she
was wearing—the corner of her lips turning down in a frown, the nervous cracking of her
knuckles.
“What about you, Seven?” Nicole asked, grinning. “Are you going with Colin Stillman?”
I blinked rapidly at her, my heart thundering in panic. “W-What? Why would I go with
Colin?”
“Oh, come on,” she said teasingly. “It’s so obvious you guys are together.”
Uh-oh. “We’re not exactly…together…” I had no idea what Colin and I were. I always
thought we were sort of friends now, but friends definitely do not kiss each other. I was just
groping for a rational answer in my mind when I looked up and—speak of the devil—spotted
a familiar redhead some distance away.
Colin was surrounded by his friends, as per usual, but, the moment he caught me looking
his way, he smiled.
Hi, he mouthed at me, waving. I shyly waved back.
Even from afar, I could see his friends snickering, nudging him at the side with their
elbows and pushing him around. He turned back and gestured for them to shut up, but it was
clear he was laughing. I couldn’t help laughing as well.
When Colin and his group had moved on, Nicole turned to me with a smug look. “That
was so adorable. It’s impossible you guys don’t have a thing for each other,” she said matter-
of-factly. “You cannot convince me otherwise now.”
“Whatever you say, Nicole,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.
“Okay, this is me,” Amy said, extracting herself from us and heading towards the history
classroom.
“See you later!” Nicole called after her as she and I went over to English Lit. The bell rang
just as we entered the room.

***

The next four hours were uneventful. I spent most of my time doodling at the corners of my
notebook, writing lyrics of love songs, and wondering if Colin would ask me to prom. So
when I left in the middle of bio, my last class for the day, to have a quick stop at the
bathroom, I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen.
I sidestepped to let two girls exit the bathroom before ducking inside. I started towards one
of the cubicles, thinking distractedly about the day I disguised myself under a black sweatshirt
and embarrassed myself in front of the whole student body with a plate of spaghetti. It felt
like it had happened years ago.
I pushed the door open and then I heard a sob.
I halted, mid-stride, and retraced my steps to peer at the other doors. Only one other
cubicle was occupied. I edged toward it carefully, making sure I didn’t make any sudden
noises.
I pressed my ear to the door and listened. The girl inside blew her nose and muttered,
“Why…?”
Although her voice was slightly altered by her clogged nose and hoarse throat, it sounded
extremely familiar.
“Amy?” I tested out the name. The girl immediately stopped sniffling. “Who’s there?” she
croaked.
 “Amy, it’s Seven,” I said, knocking on her door. “Open up.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Amy,” I said. “Come on.”
“I said leave me alone,” she said stubbornly.
“Amy, I’m not leaving until you open this door and tell me what’s wrong.”
She didn’t respond right after that. She left me in silence for a few minutes and then let out
a small cry before I heard the lock click in place. The door swung outward and I tentatively
stepped inside.
Amy sat on the closed lid of the toilet, crumpled tissues piled up on her lap. Her nose was
bright red and so were her eyes. Tears ran freely down her face, ruining her mascara.
“Oh, Amy,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of her so that I was at her eye level.
“What happened?”
She wept, scrubbing her cheeks with the tissue. “Tim…he…” she started to say, and then
broke into a sob.
“Shh,” I said, patting her knee. “It’s okay. It’s okay. What about Tim?”
“He…he found out,” she blurted, two big teardrops falling out from under her long lashes.
I furrowed my eyebrows at her. “He found out about what?”
“He knows, Seven,” she said exasperatedly, pulling out another tissue from her purse. “He
knows I like him…and…and…”
“And? And then what?” I insisted.
“And he…he outright told me he doesn’t like me back,” she cried, clutching the tissue so
tightly her knuckles were turning chalk-white. “I tried to…act cool about it but…” She
gasped, taking quick, short breaths.
I reached over and rubbed her back, trying to soothe away the tension there. I watched as
another tear fell. “Now…now he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. He wouldn’t even look
at me,” she said, covering her face with both hands. “Why?” she asked, almost yelling, “I
tried to hide it from him…I made sure nobody s-suspected anything…”
“Amy,” I said, trying and failing to mitigate the pain. “Maybe…maybe he’s just really
sharp in sensing these kinds of things…or maybe his friends noticed something even you
didn’t notice.”
But she wasn’t listening. She rambled on, “My friends don’t even know…I didn’t tell
anyone else…”
“Amy,” I said sternly. “Amy, look at me.” I grabbed her by the shoulders and made her lift
her eyes to me. “You’re going to get through this, okay?”
“But—”
“Listen,” I said, cutting her off. “This—Tim—is just temporary. You’re a junior. You’ve
got one more year of high school to go and then there’s college too. You’ll meet plenty of
other boys, you’ll experience more heartbreak, more chances at love, and then you’ll look
back at this day and laugh it off with your future, mega-hot boyfriend.”
She couldn’t seem to stop crying, but at least I’d made her smile, which was a good thing.
Amy hiccupped, her shoulders rising abruptly. “Y-You seem to know a lot about it.”
I laughed a bitter laugh and shook my head. “I guess you could say…I’m going through
something similar right now. And I’m just saying the things I wish someone else would say to
me.”
She sniffed, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “But doesn’t…doesn’t knowing
all of this help? Why do you need someone else to tell you what you already know?”
 I opened my mouth to answer and then quickly closed it. After a while, I finally said,
“Sometimes your heart just can’t easily accept what your mind can. You know something’s
wrong and yet your heart still dares to beg otherwise.”
Like even when I already know it’s hopeless for Colin and me, I still dare to hope, I
thought sadly.
Amy shuffled her feet awkwardly, not knowing what to say. She wiped her nose one more
time and threw the tissue into the trashcan.
“Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat, “we need to get back to class.” I got up to my feet,
dusting off some dirt on my knees, but Amy remained seated. She bowed her head. “My class
is with Tim…I-I don’t want to face him…”
“You can’t always run away like this,” I said. “You’ll have to face it sooner or later. Better
now than never.”
“Hey, that rhymes,” she said weakly, chuckling. I laughed, trying to make light of the
situation, but then her smile faded away and she swallowed, biting her lip. We were soon
plunged into awkwardness.
At last, she said, “You’re right,” with a sigh. “I’m sorry…I’ll…I’ll catch up. I just need to
freshen up.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. I turned on my heel and was about to leave, but I looked back at
her over my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, Amy. Everything will be alright.”
She nodded and hastily dabbed her eyes with another tissue. Her eyes were starting to look
swollen.
I left her sitting there, gathering herself, and went back to bio. As I slid back in my seat
though, one thing still bothered me: how did Timothy find out?
Amy said she did her best to cover her feelings up, and I believed her. I saw how she
reacted, how she controlled herself a while ago with Nicole. She may have had a couple of
slips here and there, but Nicole didn’t seem to notice a thing. None of her friends did.
My friends don’t even know…she’d said. I didn’t tell anyone else…
I didn’t tell anyone else…
My eyes widened in realization. Amy didn’t tell anyone else but me about her infatuation
with Timothy because she couldn’t even trust her friends. And I probably wrote her secret in
the notebook, which was with…
“Colin,” I whispered, feeling my stomach drop to the floor.
Of course! It must’ve been him. No doubt he knew all the secrets contained within by now.
It had been with him for too long already.
I tightened my hands into fists. This was my fault too. I’d allowed this to happen, I’d
allowed his charms to distract me from getting it back. If I had resisted, if I had convinced
myself harder that Colin wasn’t as good as I thought he was, if only I’d realized sooner that
he couldn’t be trusted with anything, then maybe Amy wouldn’t be sitting in a cubicle in the
girls’ bathroom, crying her eyes out in misery.
Maybe her friendship with Timothy could’ve lasted longer and she could actually have had
a chance with him. She could have had her happy ending.
I’d become complacent and now look at what had happened. Who knew what other secrets
Colin had spilled?
I closed my eyes briefly and let out a deep but shaky breath. I trusted him. I loved him,
foolishly thinking that he wouldn’t do anything with the secrets inside because he was a good
guy.
I obviously didn’t know him well enough.
 ***

When bio finally ended, Colin was standing by his locker, alone.
I didn’t think twice. I marched up towards him, my blood boiling just at the thought of
what he’d done, and demanded, “Give me back the notebook, Colin.”
“Nice to see you too,” he said, laughing. He slammed his locker shut and turned to me,
grinning, but when he got a good look at my pissed-off expression, his smile dissipated.
“Seven? Hey, what’s—” Colin reached out to cup my cheek but I swatted his gentle hand
away.
His green eyes widened in shock. I thought I saw something in them seem to break, but I
refused to believe his heart was breaking just because of that. “Did I do something wrong?”
“How dare you even ask,” I said, seething. “How dare you pretend like nothing’s wrong
when you’re ruining someone else’s life as we speak!”
“Whoa, hey,” he said, raising his hands as if to touch me again, but I flinched away,
watching him like he was a rabid animal on the loose. He noticed my look and dropped his
hands. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“How about this: Amy and Timothy?” I asked, scowling. “Ring any bells?”
Colin stared at me blankly. “Am I supposed to know them? I mean, I know Timothy—he’s
in the student council—but I don’t know who Amy is.”
“You may not know her personally, but I know you’ve read her name in my notebook,” I
said, pointing accusingly at him. “And I know you spread her secret!”
“What?” he asked incredulously. “What on earth are you talking about?”
I groaned angrily, stomping my foot in frustration. “Stop lying already!” I said. “You know
Amy likes Timothy and you know she’s been trying to keep it a secret. I wrote it in that stupid
black notebook you stole and now Timothy’s found out about it and he rejected her. He won’t
even look at her, and it’s all because you just wanted to have some fun—”
“Alright, first of all,” Colin said, raising his voice over mine, “whether or not her secret
came out, Timothy would’ve rejected her anyway. The Amy you’re talking about should be
glad she found out about it before she started to hope for anything else. Secondly, I’m not—”
He was about to say more, but I didn’t let him finish.
I slapped him across the face.
He stumbled back and touched his cheek where a red imprint of my hand was blooming.
Part of me expected him to react, to ask why I did it, but shock paralyzed him. In fact, he
looked more shocked—and hurt—with the fact that I’d slapped him, rather than the actual
physical pain.
“That wasn’t your call to make!” I screamed at him, my vision swimming with tears. “You
should’ve left them alone! They are not toys you can just play with like that!”
Now everyone was watching us. All noise and chatter died down and they turned their
heads to see what was going on.
“This is too much,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t want to cry in front of
Colin and I definitely didn’t want everyone else to see me breaking down, but I couldn’t help
it. I was so, so tired of this. “I endured it when you kept spinning me in circles and making
fun of me. I endured it and accepted it…but now you’ve involved someone else in your little
game. How can you be like this? I know—I know you’re carefree and you don’t take anything
seriously, but you have got to know when to stop.”
 “Seven…” he began to say, but I shook my head at him and turned away. I didn’t want to
hear any more petty excuses. I walked away, parting the crowd that had engulfed us, and left
Colin, the school, and everything else behind.

***

I pushed the door to The Book Station open with a sigh and welcomed the familiar smell of
books, the warmth of the lamp hanging right above the door and the peaceful sound of pages
slowly being turned.
Most of the walk back home from school was a blur. My feet had taken me through streets
and across roads by muscle memory, while my thoughts and heart roared with anger,
frustration, and hurt at Colin.
The image of him standing before me with confused eyes and his pink lips in a frown, his
hand pressed to his cheek, was still quite fresh in my mind, and now that I’d had some time to
think, my stand against him was starting to crumble.
He deserved it, I told myself, hoping I could somehow convince that small shard of regret
embedded in me to disappear. He deserved it. Don’t fall for his tricks again. Don’t fall for
him.
As I shrugged off my jacket, I felt my phone vibrate long enough for me to know it was an
incoming call. I pulled it out of my pocket, but didn’t look at the screen. I already knew who
was calling. He’d been calling since I left school.
I held my phone in my hand, waiting, until it just stopped buzzing. I sighed and slipped it
back in my pocket before heading over to the counter, where Francesca was standing.
“Hi there, Seven,” she said, sending a smile my way. Her wavy brown hair was tied up
today in a bun, a few strands hanging elegantly by the side of her face. “Here to borrow
another book?”
“No,” I croaked, my voice sounding raspy. I cleared my throat. “Just going to hang out for
a while…” I trailed off, looking around the place. There were fewer customers today. I found
Danny messing around with Alfred by the stairs. “Where’s Patrick?” I asked.
Francesca’s smile faltered and she hesitated, glancing towards the shelves. “He’s…not
really doing well.”
“Why?” I asked, alarmed. “Is he okay?”
She pursed her lips, unsure of what to say. “I think,” she said, “it’ll be better if you ask him
yourself.” She gestured towards a section of The Book Station that held the religion books.
Rarely anyone went there.
I nodded my thanks and went over to those particular shelves, craning my neck to peek
through the small spaces between books.
Patrick was sitting on the cold floor, his glasses in one hand while the other covered almost
half of his face. He must’ve heard my boots clicking against the floorboards, but he didn’t
show it.
“Patrick?” I slowly drew closer towards him, reluctant to make any sudden movements.
He jumped a little in surprise. “Seven,” he said, removing his hand from his face. He didn’t
look at me, but a lamp behind me made his glassy eyes shine. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He didn’t sound okay at all. “It’s just…they didn’t come.”
“Who?” I asked, crouching down in front of him.
 “My parents,” he said, his eyes averted. “Remember I told you and your mother that they
wanted to meet up with me? I even invited them to see this place that I’ve built.” He raised his
hand to indicate The Book Station, only to drop back down to his lap, limp. “Well, they
cancelled.”
I thought back to three days ago when he’d told us about it. He’d been so excited. Now he
looked like those broken, useless things we hide in boxes at the back of our closets, just
waiting for dust to pile up.
I felt my heart breaking for the second time that day from seeing Patrick like that. He was
always so optimistic, so cheerful; he was my inspiration. But now he was brought down so
low that I didn’t know what to do to pull him back up on his feet.
“Maybe they’re just busy,” I reasoned half-heartedly.
He snorted, shaking his head. “That’s exactly what they said. They also said maybe they
could come next time, but I know there won’t be a next time.” He sighed, shifting
uncomfortably in his place. “Now that I think about it, I don’t understand why I even
bothered in the first place,” he said quietly. “It would take a miracle for them to want to see
me again.”
I wanted to tell him not to think that way, to think positively, but I couldn’t, because then I
would be lying to myself. Even I couldn’t come up with a single silver lining for my own
disappointments, much less his.
“What did I expect?” I heard him whisper to himself, forgetting for a moment that I was
there.
You expected them to come through, I thought to myself, just like I expected Colin to
come through and be any different than he was before. But your parents didn’t and he didn’t,
and now we’re both drowning in regret and heartache.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Seven,” Patrick said, and I looked back up at him.
He was covering his face again. “Just go home.”
I should’ve argued to stay, to comfort him while he was going through a tough time. A
good friend would’ve done that. The Seven Warrilow who kept everyone’s secrets safe
would’ve done that.
But this Seven Warrilow had had enough.
So I ended up saying, “Okay,” and made a hasty exit out of the building.

***

Date: April 12, 2013

At the age of five or six, I dreamed of becoming an actress. I spent most of my hours running
a marathon of movies on the TV, admiring how the actresses could shift from one emotion to
another like they were merely shuffling a deck of cards.
Although, as the years passed, I gave up on that dream. One of the reasons was that it
wasn’t as easy as it had seemed. You have to memorize tons of lines, you have to go to
interviews and say words you don’t really mean, and sometimes, when your contract forces
you to, you have do things you aren’t comfortable with.
The other was the paparazzi—the endless stalking, questions, cameras flashing at every
move—there wasn’t any privacy for your personal life. Everybody knew everything about
you. I just couldn’t take that.
 So take that fun little fact you now know about me and imagine what I felt the next
morning when almost everyone I knew confronted me with a sympathizing look and a
question: “Hey, what happened between you and Colin Stillman yesterday?”
Suffocating.
That much attention was a foreign object—overwhelming—to me, but I survived half a
day of it. I managed to dodge them in the halls with a shake of my head or simply pretending
I couldn’t hear them. During classes, I would turn a blind eye to their paper conversations,
and if I had to, I fed them false assurances like, “It was nothing”.
Lunch was an entirely different subject, however.
“It obviously wasn’t ‘nothing’, Seven!” Nicole attempted to whisper, but emotion filled
her voice to the point of bursting and I could tell that the other table could hear us very
clearly. “You freaking slapped the guy. And for you that’s huge.”
I was tempted to say she didn’t know me well enough—none of them did—to say that with
such confidence, but I bit back the insult.
I was hanging out with her and Amy again, mostly out of guilt for unintentionally
contributing to her heartbreak. She’d stopped crying already, like I’d asked her to promise,
but there was still some noticeable redness around her eyes, as if it had been rubbed roughly
several times.
She remained quiet, absently poking her food as Nicole went on, “He must’ve done
something horrible…” She tapped her chin with a finger, thinking, and then her eyes widened.
“Oh my gosh, did he cheat on you?”
“He didn’t cheat on me,” I said calmly, slowly, “because we’re not together, like I’ve told
you a million times already. He doesn’t like me that way.”
“Puh-lease,” she scoffed, “of course he does. Trust me, I know it when a guy’s into a girl.”
I looked up at her, feeling my anger sputter and sizzle like acid, ready to burn anyone who
dared come close. Unfortunately, Nicole was the closest one I could find. “Yeah, you seem to
know a lot about those kinds of things, don’t you?”
Nicole flushed, immediately shutting up.
I suppose using her secret against her was a move way below the belt. Nicole used to sleep
around with a lot of guys—and I mean, a lot—but when she met this one guy who seemed so
perfect, he was probably “the one”, and they got together, Mr. Perfect found out she wasn’t a
virgin. And he wasn’t happy with it.
Later on, she’d told me she wanted to change, to stop herself before things got even more
out of hand. She was trying—I’d seen it so many times in the way she kept conversation with
some attractive boys short, making sure she didn’t let a flirty comeback slip.
It was blatantly a touchy topic for her, and now that I’d dropped the bomb, she went back
to her food, shoving some salad into her mouth. I turned away, ashamed for reacting like that,
but I’d had it.
I was determined to focus on my food for the rest of lunch period, but something else
attracted my attention.
Colin was standing up from his table, carrying his tray towards the trash bin. I’d been
ignoring him the entire morning, refusing to even acknowledge his presence, but right then
my eyes followed after him as he dumped his leftover food and placed the tray on the dirty
pile. He spun around, about to walk back to his friends, glancing briefly towards me.
I tore my gaze away, but it was too late; he caught me looking. Without needing to lift my
head, I could sense him giving me a second glance, one that was much longer this time. I
wished and wished and wished he would just walk away, leave me to my misery, but he just
had to make everything worse.
 I raised my head to see if he was gone, but Colin was right there, taking long strides
towards me.
My arm jerked, the instinct of fight or flight taking over my body, and some of the carrots
on my fork flew across the table. The other parts of me remained completely petrified.
Amy finally broke free from her daze, noticing Colin, and looked over at me with alarmed
eyes. She knew I didn’t want to see him.
Nicole noticed him too. She opened her mouth to tell me the obvious, but Colin beat her to
it.
“Seven,” he said, standing merely two feet away from me. My fingers itched to reach over
and shorten that distance. I closed them in a fist. “I need to talk to you.” He paused. “Alone.”
I didn’t look at him, hoping he’d just disappear if I pretend he wasn’t there, but he said,
“Please.”
Some of the people in the cafeteria glanced over at our table, gesturing not so subtly at
Colin and me. From the corner of my eye, I could feel Amy’s stare, heavy with meaning and
unspoken words. She was watching me very closely, I knew, and I thought about all the
questions I’d have to answer later if I just kept avoiding Colin like this.
Then again, I’d still have a lot of questions to answer if I did go with him.
I sighed and finally looked up at Colin. Despite what he had done, his eyes still looked like
home to me. “Alright,” I said.
His face lit up at my response and he nodded at me, starting to back away towards the
doors of the cafeteria.
We walked side by side, and it would’ve almost been like how it was before, except for the
fact that I’d kept an arm’s distance away from him. I could feel this distance between us like
an ache.
Colin led us outside the cafeteria, taking a route near a bathroom where a couple of girls
were hanging out taking selfies. Maria was one of them.
She gave Colin a warm, bright smile and a wave, but when her eyes shifted to me, all I saw
in them was wariness and more than a little bit of dislike.
Colin had turned around a corner and walked a bit farther, ripping Maria from my sight,
until we were only surrounded by lockers and empty classrooms.
“Okay, you have me alone,” I said, a little too coldly, “now what do you want to talk
about?”
Colin turned around to face me, his hands in his pockets. “Before I say anything else,” he
started slowly, “thanks for agreeing to talk with me. You pretty much diminished my
presence into non-existence, so I didn’t think you’d even look my way again.” A tiny smirk
couldn’t help making an appearance, but I stayed stoic, leaning back against a locker with my
arms crossed, waiting for him to continue.
Soon that smirk was wiped off as easily as a smudge of dirt. He cleared his throat.
“Anyway, the reason why I wanted to talk to you,” he said, sighing and reaching back to his
back pocket, “is because I’m returning this.” He retrieved a small notebook, its cover made of
black leather and its pages slightly bulky form all the writing in it. The black notebook.
He stared at it for a moment before handing it to me. I accepted it with a small tremble to
my hands, my eyes wide with surprise. I couldn’t believe it. I’d actually got it back.
It’s too late now, a bitter part of me thought, he knows all the secrets in there and he can
spread more of them if he wants to.
“I can never say sorry enough,” he said, shaking his head, “I should’ve given it back to you
that day but I…” He trailed away, bowing his head as he did.
 “Colin…” I said, looking up at him. “Colin, I—”
“No, Seven,” he said, interrupting my sentence with a raised hand, “it’s okay.” He smiled
sadly and it split my heart into two. “I just hope you can somehow forgive me.”
Without waiting for me to reply, Colin turned on his heel and walked back the way we
came, leaving me standing there, the black notebook clutched tightly within the cage of my
fingers.
This was supposed to be my victory, right? I spent weeks plotting and giving all my efforts
to get the it back; I should have been rejoicing or at least felt relieved.
So why did I feel like something was terribly, terribly wrong?
 Entry 20: The Black Notebook

Date: April 12, 2013

I didn’t catch another glimpse of Colin for the rest of the day. Part of the reason was because I
didn’t have any classes with him, but it was mostly because I’d dedicated myself to spending
less time out in the halls in between classes. Once the bell rang for the end of another school
day, I said goodbye to the last group of friends I was with, looked away when I thought I saw
a tuft of red hair, and went straight home.
“Wow, Seven, you’re back early,” my mom said when I’d closed the front door to our
house behind me. She was sitting on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table, a book in
hand and a small timer set before her. She was probably waiting for something to bake in the
oven.
I glanced at the clock in our living room and raised an eyebrow at her. “But I always come
home at this time.”
“Well, you were out with Colin a little later than usual yesterday, so I assumed it would be
the same today,” she said, not knowing the impact of his name on me.
It was a good thing her eyes were trained on the book she was reading, and not on me,
because I had no idea what I looked like as I thought back to Colin and the sad smile he gave
me. I certainly didn’t feel good about it, so I figured I probably wouldn’t look good, either.
“I’ll be in my room,” I announced curtly and went ahead upstairs.
“Seven,” my mom’s voice suddenly pulled me back. I stopped, my hand practically
engraving itself on the railing by how hard I was gripping it. I asked, “Yeah?”
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked. I couldn’t see her face, but her worried tone told me all
I needed to know.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I just have tons of homework to do.”
She didn’t reply to that, and I took it as permission to leave. I hurried up to my room,
slamming the door shut with my leg. I dropped down to the chair in front of my desk, carried
my backpack to my lap, and pawed inside for my textbooks. I hesitated when I saw the black
notebook, just waiting for me to take it and write, but I ignored it and pulled my bio book out.
After going through weeks without the black notebook, I had a lot of new secrets I needed
to keep and input. That, however, didn’t mean I was all that eager to reminisce on the things
that had happened prior to its recent return, which I would surely do if I looked at it long
enough.
So I did what I would’ve done before all of this had happened: I tuned out the whole world
and studied. I concentrated on the formulas I knew would come up in the test this coming
Monday, and once I was certain I wouldn’t easily forget them throughout the weekend, I went
ahead and finished a project that was due next week.
By the time I was done, the sun was starting to sink in the sky. I wanted to waste more
time, but I knew I couldn’t escape it forever. Eventually, I grabbed my phone and scrolled
down my inbox, purposely skipping over Colin’s name.
 After answering the new messages I’d just received, I dragged a hand over my face and
sighed, bending over to pick up my backpack again. I shoved my textbooks back inside and
found the black notebook at the very bottom.
I checked my phone again. The first secret was another problem between friends. One of
them felt like the other didn’t trust him enough and admitted that there was a bit of hatred on
his part of the friendship.
It made me think about how fragile relationships were. Dishonesty and the reluctance to
share their true feelings could easily break one into pieces. You wouldn’t even know
something’s wrong until it’s already dying.
I chose a pen from my collection and shifted in my seat, preparing myself for the task I
was about to do.
When I flipped the black notebook open, I was surprised to see something else written
inside.
Knitting my eyebrows in confusion, I blinked at the words, unsure if I was hallucinating. I
rubbed my eyes and stared at it again.
It was all in my handwriting, so it couldn’t have been Colin or anyone else who wrote it,
but instead of seeing a list of secrets like I was expecting to, I saw a diary entry.
November 8, 2012
Dear Diary,
So. Hi. This is my first time to keep a diary, but I think it’s going to help me out a lot. I
have a lot of thoughts and it’s pretty hard to share them with the people around me, especially
because I know how they really are. It’s no offense to them, but I’d like to protect my secrets
and myself. I don’t want to start this like some whiny teenager, so I’ll pretend I’m like one of
my favorite authors. Here goes:
When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t expecting anything big. I didn’t expect any
fireworks to suddenly explode outside my window, or for Colin Stillman, this guy I’ve been
crushing on for the past two years, to knock on my door and profess his love for me. But I
also didn’t expect anything bad to happen, either. I mean, come on, it’s my birthday. Can’t the
universe just give me a break for once?
But no, of course not, it just had to let me catch Colin (the aforementioned guy I like) and
his girlfriend kissing in an empty classroom that I happened to stumble upon because I left
my book in there. Talk about awkward. So, what do you think I did? Of course, I did the most
rational thing I could think of: run away.
I don’t want to get into the gory details of the scene, but when I came in, they broke apart,
hair messed up, and I just sprinted to the opposite direction like my life depended on it.
Awesome, right?
I seriously need to move on from this guy. I don’t understand, it’s not like I know him or
anything. He doesn’t even know I exist, and for some reason, I can’t move on. People have
had it worse than me and it’s not like we ever talked or had any “special moments” and he has
a girlfriend, for goodness’ sake!
I should just go to sleep…
My mind flew back to the time I bought my collection of black notebooks, considering
writing a diary because I just couldn’t keep all of these thoughts bottled up inside. I
remembered thinking these thoughts and writing these words. I could even feel the same
emotions rushing through me like the wind, a breeze that was just barely there.
However, I also remembered taking this exact same notebook in front of me from Colin
and stuffing it into my bag, not feeling up to looking inside just yet. I remembered bringing it
out just a few moments ago and opening it, ready to encode new secrets.
 But this definitely wasn’t the black notebook I’d written everyone’s secrets in.
That could only mean that it was actually my diary that was with Colin this entire time. If
that was the case, then where was the black notebook, the one with all the secrets I’d been
trying desperately to protect?
I fell off my chair and to the ground, barely feeling the sharp pain in my knees as I turned
my backpack upside-down, practically throwing every book out and searching in between the
pages, even if it obviously wasn’t going to be there. A few minutes later, my backpack was
completely empty and still, the black notebook was nowhere to be seen.
I groaned angrily in frustration and patted blindly inside the bag, quadruple-checking its
inner pockets. It was only when my fingers accidentally slipped inside a rip in the bag that I
realized the extent of my fatuity.
The rip was slim, but it was definitely big enough to fit the black notebook. My hand dove
anxiously into the rip and, just as I thought, the black notebook was there, resting snugly
inside.
How could I have been so stupid?
All this time I’d been foolishly thinking that everyone else’s secrets were on the line, but
in truth, it was mine. It was my diary with my secrets and…
“And Colin had it,” I finished, feeling the blood drain from my face as the entirety of the
situation dawned upon me. Heat rushed up my neck, and I could imagine a horrible blush
setting my face aflame. I could also imagine the laugh Colin must’ve had when he’d read my
diary.
He probably read it all. Colin had read all of my inner thoughts, my deepest desires. He
saw a side of me that no one else had ever seen before. I wanted to melt down to the ground
and never resurface again, but I forced myself to get up from the floor and sit back down on
my chair.
Shakily, I picked up the black notebook and opened it to a random page, wanting to know
what the things Colin had read.
November 30, 2012
Dear Diary,
I want to start with something really cool for this entry, but I just want to come out and say
it: Colin and his girlfriend broke up last night. I heard it from a friend of his friend. He said
Colin hadn’t taken it seriously anyway, but I still feel kind of bad for him. They’ve been
together for two months, I think. There must’ve been some development of feelings
somewhere there, right?
But I can’t deny it: I’m happy, like, really happy I can’t even dgfadscbbdka
Ahem, sorry. This is so stupid, it’s not like he’s going to suddenly want to date me, of all
people. But at least I won’t have to be jealous all the time because he’s making out with some
beautiful girl I can never aim to be.
Oh! I saw a picture of him with the track and field team today, and he looked so hot! And
the fact that he’s so nice to people and is fun to be with just adds more to it! How can
someone so perfect like him exist?
And in Calculus, he got a really good score in the test. I’m so proud of him! :)
I gritted my teeth. There was more to the entry—plenty of it—but I quickly switched to
another one and another one, and with each one, I felt like crawling to the corner of my room
and crying in shame.
January 3, 2013
Dear Diary,
 I wonder if anyone can really hear my voice. I wonder if anyone really cares. Does anyone
even think about how their actions and words affect other people? Spreading a secret may
seem fun at the time, but there’s a reason it’s a secret in the first place. Maybe a kiss or a
touch seemed harmless to them, but it could mean the whole world to the other party. A
statement told jokingly may appear insignificant, but it can be as serious as a person hanging
on a rope by his neck.
January 10, 2013
Dear Diary,
Today someone confessed to me something about Colin. They were saying how ridiculous
he could be, that he’s lenient and ignorant of other people’s feelings. “He just goes around,
cracking jokes, even about the really important things that can hurt,” the person had said. I
immediately came to Colin’s defense, of course. I’m not being biased or anything; I can
understand that some have a limit to how much they can take of happy-go-lucky people and
their way of life, but Colin’s just being himself.
I don’t want to mention names, but I basically told the person to be more patient, to be
more understanding, and to be the better person. I hope they follow my advice. Part of me
was tempted to say that at least they knew Colin and they could interact with him and have
the chance to get to know him, but of course I didn’t. No one can ever know that.
January 15, 2013
Dear Diary,
I saw him running in the rain after school today. I hope he doesn’t get sick :( Now I regret
not offering my umbrella to him. We could’ve shared it. That would’ve been really nice.
I ran my hands through my hair, tempted to pull them out of their roots. My eyes could
barely register the dates through the tears. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be
happening.
He reminds me of the sun, so bright and warm, shining light into other people’s lives.
I hate my thighs. I wish I could be a little thinner like that cheerleader who keeps talking to
Colin. They seem really close. Maybe he likes her.
I wish I had someone to talk to.
I’m not his Valentine this year, either. Duh. What was I thinking?
Sometimes I wonder what he is like when no one is watching. Is he just as what everyone
else says he is—the uncontrollable and untamable class clown? Is he how I always dreamed
of him to be—the prince charming pulled out of a fairytale—or is he something else entirely?
I cried out, tossing my diary across the room. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes,
as if I could shut out the truth; pretend that my secrets were still safe, that Colin was someone
I could only admire from afar.
But Colin knew. He knew everything. He knew I’d been pining after him for four years,
and he was probably disgusted by me. He probably thought I was a creep.
The black notebook hit the wall just above my bed, stayed there for half a second and then
fell safely on the cushions, bouncing a little and opening to a certain page.
I peeked at it from between my fingers. My vision was blurry and my mind disoriented,
but I didn’t miss it: there was a long, long entry written in red ink.
I always wrote in black.
Slowly and tentatively, I removed my hands from my tear-streaked face and inched
towards my bed. The closer I got, the faster my heart raced.
I snatched the notebook from the bed. This entry was written a page after my last one and I
brought my eyes to the first line: Well, this is interesting.
 I immediately knew who it was. Colin.
I was tempted to stop right there and then and just dump the notebook in gasoline and burn
it, but he’d written more in the next few pages. My knees gave up on me and I plopped down
on the bed, mouth gaping at Colin’s messy handwriting.
He’d crossed out an entire paragraph and I squinted to try and make out the words.
Okay, Seven, first of all, you’re not my type. I usually like blondes or brunettes, not black-
haired beauties. I mean, you’re attractive and you’re probably going to find some really sweet
guy who would appreciate all this stuff you’ve written in this notebook but I’m not that guy.
Sorry.
Below all that mess, he wrote:
Seven, I’m so sorry. I should’ve given you this notebook back right after discovering that
it was your diary, but I was having so much fun reading your feelings and teasing you the
next day that I kept delaying it…until I realized something really important. I realized that
this beautiful, beautiful girl who wrote all of this amazing stuff about me really cares about
me. I noticed you kept repeating your insecurities that I would never look your way. Well,
guess what? I’m in love with you.
My hand found its way to my mouth, clamping it shut to stifle my gasp. I read that last line
again: I’m in love with you.
I couldn’t believe it. The tears were inevitably coming again, dripping down the slope of
my cheek. This must be a prank, another trap I was just going to fall into—I was sure of it—
but still, my heart soared at his words. Colin Stillman is in love with me—with me. I hurried
to read more.
I heard you at the park yesterday, you know, when you told Lassie that you were in love
with me. Actually, right now, I’m not all that sure if your feelings are still the same since
you’re pretty pissed that I still haven’t given back the black notebook, but I’m hoping I’m
wrong and you still have those feelings for me.
I do. Oh, Colin, of course I do.
Seven, you have to understand that I didn’t give it back because I was scared, okay? I was
scared that, if I gave this notebook back, you would hate me to the point that your feelings
would vanish. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted this little moment I have with you to last
a little longer, but I guess time caught up with me. But, Seven, I remember what you said that
day. You said I should learn to stop playing around and start taking things seriously. The truth
is, I’ve been taking a lot of things more seriously now. I even forgave my father. Did you
know that? I did it because of your persuasion, and now I think I’m starting to really forgive
him in my heart. Thank you for that.
This whole time, I wasn’t kidding around. I wasn’t pretending to be your boyfriend and
kissing you for fun. I want to be your boyfriend and to kiss you. I’ve been dying to kiss you
since your cousins kidnapped me. If I am so bold to say, you’re the only thing I’ve been
serious about for a long time.
I honestly don’t know who Amy is. I never read her secret or anyone else’s secrets because
I never got that other notebook you thought I had.
“No wonder…” I whispered to myself, finally finding the missing pieces I needed to form
the puzzle and see the big picture.
The clues had all been there, but I’d assumed and convinced myself that everything I knew
was correct, effectively blinding me from the truth. Until now.
That day when I’d been Colin’s slave and we’d hidden behind a shelf of tissue papers and
cans of paint in the janitor’s closet, he had no idea about Jake and Tiffany. He didn’t even
know they were together.
 Wait, what? I’d asked. You didn’t know about this?
He’d merely shrugged and said, Should I?
I should’ve used my common sense to understand that Colin should know about it, if he
really had the black notebook, because I wrote it—I knew I wrote it—in the very first page. It
was impossible for him to miss it.
And then that night when I’d first broken into Colin’s room in search of the black
notebook, he’d taunted me, saying, All of your secrets are mine!
I should’ve known that he literally meant my secrets. I went back to reading, hungry for his
next words.
But you know what? I’m actually glad I didn’t…because now I know you way better than
anyone else. Each day I spent with you, kidding around you, laughing with you and watching
your expressions change with so many emotions and all so fascinating, I slowly learned new
things about you. But without this black notebook, I couldn’t have gotten any deeper than
what anyone else knows about you, if they only looked harder.
Don’t blame yourself, okay? I deserved that slap. It sort of woke me up, I guess, which is
why I’m writing this message and giving you the notebook back. Seven, you were afraid of
sharing your secrets because you saw how easily people could betray each other. You were
afraid of looking me in the eye or talking to me before because you thought you weren’t good
enough for me or, if I found out about your feelings, I’d act weirdly around you.
But, Seven, I know all of your secrets now, your insecurities, your fears and, most of all,
your feelings, and I still love you. I love you for who you are, Seven Warrilow.
I tried to wipe my tears as fast as I could, but some of them fell on the page, smudging his
words. They may have ruined the ink, but they could never ruin the message it contained.
I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me again or even see me. I’m sorry I’m
violating your diary by writing all this crap, but I’m a coward and I don’t know how else to
tell you all of this in one go. I hope you can forgive me.
Colin
I was openly crying now, my body trembling with sobs. My hands lost their grip on the
notebook and it dropped to the bed again. I wrapped my arms around myself, curling up and
wishing I could make myself smaller.
Colin thought I hated him. I thought I did too, but not now, especially not after I’d
discovered his true feelings.
I flashed back to all those times when he’d treated me so sweetly, held me so tenderly, and
I asked myself, Why didn’t he just tell me? I would’ve understood. I would’ve.
In that moment, I knew I needed to do something about this.
I hopped off my bed and sped towards my desk, taking my phone and punching in his
number before I could stop myself. He didn’t answer my call instantly, but I waited patiently.
When his phone rang for the fourth time and he still didn’t pick up, I chewed nervously on
my nails, wondering if it was too late.
And then, I heard the click. “Hello?” a voice said, but it wasn’t Colin’s. It was a girl’s.
My blood ran cold. “Who is this?” I asked, barely breathing.
“Seven? It’s Maria,” she said. “Why are you calling Colin?”
My will was crumbling bit by bit, but I held on. “Can you give him the phone? I need to
talk to him.”
“Look, Seven, you’re a nice girl,” she said in a placating tone, just like the one I used
whenever I was telling someone the bad news—the awful, awful truth. “But I think you
should give up.”
 “What?” I’d never heard my voice sound so small and shrill.
“Colin doesn’t like you, okay? Whatever moment you had with him is over,” she said.
“We’re together now.”
Her words hit me hard like a train, crushing my heart and my spirits. The earth could’ve
opened up below me right then and there and I wouldn’t have noticed.
I couldn’t find anything to answer, but I didn’t need to. Maria continued, “I know it’s hard
to take in, but you’ll get over him, Seven. Every other girl who ever got her heart broken by
him did. You can, too.” I knew she must’ve been smiling as she said, “Well, I have to go.
Colin’s calling me. Bye then!”
She hung up, and I was left there, feeling empty and dead. I didn’t even feel my feet
moving, taking me to the bed. I was numb and detached from this world. I collapsed down on
the bed at an awkward angle, but I didn’t care. I pulled my pillow over my head, and it
muffled my screams and swallowed up my tears, but it couldn’t take away the hurt.
From somewhere distant, I could hear my mom calling me for dinner, but I ignored her.
Colin had already moved on. He’d moved on to another girl. I was too late.
That tiny sliver of chance I had moments ago was gone, and it was all my fault. It was all
my fault.

***

Right about that same moment, Colin was having a beer.

It wasn’t his rule to finish an entire bottle before a party ended, but this time was different.
The party he was currently in was smaller than the ones he usually attended. It was more of
a get-together, a celebration by friends for the success of Freddie, who was the host, but it
definitely wasn’t because he won a gold medal or something.
While everyone else had passed their SATs, Freddie failed miserably. His parents got
really mad at him, probably because his older brothers were all geniuses and aced their tests,
so he was forced to take them again.
And this time, he got in—by one point.
Colin pulled on a smile, pretending he was actually listening to what any of his friends
were saying.
Everywhere he looked, there was merriment and laughter, but for some reason, he
felt…alone. He felt detached from everything and everyone. He tried to focus on the present,
but his thoughts kept going back to her—to Seven.
Seven.
With her name came a pang in his chest. He lifted his beer to his lips, but stopped just in
time, remembering that he’d already drained more than half of it. He placed it on the kitchen
counter, pushing it away from him.
Whenever Colin thought back to that afternoon, after he’d given back the black notebook,
he felt queasy. His mind constantly wandered back to that message he wrote in her diary,
trying to guess if she’d read it already or not. It wasn’t every day that he poured out his
deepest feelings to a girl who probably hated his guts. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t calling
him.
Calm down, he told himself, she’ll call you if she wants to. If she doesn’t, it’s fine. It’s
cool. It doesn’t matter.
It did.
 He laughed at the joke Roman just said and fumbled inside his jean pocket for his phone.
Once he realized it wasn’t there, he twisted around to look at his back pockets, but it wasn’t
there either.
Colin craned his neck towards the couch in the living room, where he’d been sitting a
couple of minutes ago. He could see Maria, still sitting cross-legged by the spot he was in
earlier, sliding her fingers across the screen of his phone.
It wasn’t strange that he’d let Maria play with his phone. She often took it in her bony
fingers, taking pictures of herself, sometimes both of them, but he always just deleted them
afterwards.
But for some reason, this time, Colin felt annoyed.
He left his group without saying anything and strode towards Maria, clenching his jaw.
Just thinking of the possibility that Seven had already called and he wasn’t able to answer her
because Maria wanted to take more pictures of herself made him feel like punching
something.
She looked up at him and smiled as he got closer. He ignored her and snatched his phone
from her hands without a second thought. “What are you doing with my phone?” he
demanded, a little too harshly.
Maria was shocked at his angry expression, but she expertly covered it with a grin. “What?
I was just playing a game, okay? Sheesh.”
Colin stared at her, suspicious, and then asked, “Did anyone call me? Or, I don’t know,
texted?”
She cocked her head to the side, her hair falling off her bare shoulder. “Nope,” she said,
shaking her head, and then she gasped, an idea forming in her head. “Hey! Colin, we should
take a picture together!”
He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Why should we?”
“Well, high school’s almost ending,” she reasoned, leaning towards him, “and we should,
you know, make more memories together.” She extended her arm, aiming to take his hand,
but he quickly backed away, scowling.
“I don’t care,” he growled. Maria recoiled, her smile falling apart. She definitely wasn’t
expecting that. And why would she? Colin never got mad at anyone. He was always smiling,
always having fun. He was the boy that no problem could ever touch.
The only person who really knew the truth was Seven.
He didn’t bother waiting for Maria to respond and simply walked away, heading back to
his friends. When he was far away from her, at last, Colin checked his recent call history,
hoping against hope, but all it told him was that Seven never called.
And he believed it.
It seemed, in his sadness, he forgot how easily information could be altered.
 Entry 21: Ignorance Is Bliss—Being Ignored Isn’t

Date: April 15, 2013

I spent the rest of my weekend moping around in my room, going on attempts to call Colin.
The most I managed to do though was collapse on the bed and toss the phone away.
What made things worse was that Colin hadn’t even called or texted me back since last
Friday. After crying my heart out, I’d soon realized that Maria could’ve easily lied about her
and Colin being together.
At this, I tied my hopes to a big helium balloon and got ready to set it free—it didn’t take
long however, for it to pop and sink back down to the earth.
Colin should’ve seen my call by now. He would’ve known that it wasn’t a missed call
because Maria had answered it, and if he really did feel the things he wrote in my diary, he
would’ve given me a call to at least clarify things.
Of course, there were plenty of reasons why he didn’t call—don’t think I didn’t try to give
him all the excuses in the world. He could’ve gotten sick. He was at a party and didn’t notice
it. He was graduating soon after all; what else to expect from a boy celebrating the end of his
high school days? He could’ve done something impulsive and was grounded from every
means of contact with the outside world despite his improving relationship with his father. He
could’ve seen the call, shocked to see that it had been answered, but was too uncertain to talk
to me about it.
If what he wrote to me was true, he was the one in fear of our terribly imbalanced
relationship completely tipping over because of the secret he had kept so long.
All the plausible scenarios that I had run over in my head at least eighty times, but how
could I know which one was on point? What was a girl in love to do? Naturally, she had to
smother her feelings some more and wait for the boy to make the move. Because that was the
way of things.
But the boy didn’t make the move, and so the girl was left with no other choice: she had to
leave her room sooner or later. She walked down to the kitchen and took the whole bucket of
pistachio ice cream back up to her room. She put on some romance movies on her laptop and
fed her eyes and ears and heart with empty promises of a destined someone she was to meet
someday.
They should’ve put another warning after the one for piracy: “This is fiction, folks. Don’t
compare this love story to your nonexistent one.” That would’ve been so helpful.
Eventually, I managed to convince myself that going to school wasn’t a waste of my time,
that it would actually get my mind off red-haired, green-eyed and extremely attractive things.
However, with school came the inevitability of people and noise and more secrets that I
didn’t want to think about, much less keep in the black notebook that had gotten me into this
mess in the first place.
“Hey, Seven!” I turned around to see a boy named Kevin jogging towards me, an excited
smile stamped on his face. “I’ve got something to tell you!”
 “Sorry, Kev,” I said, placing my hand between us so he wouldn’t run straight into me. “I
don’t feel well today. Let’s just talk next time, okay?”
“Oh. Yeah sure, just get well soon, Seven.” Kevin gave me a smile that was meant to
apologize to and reassure me at the same time. When he walked away from me, though, his
shoulders were slumped in disappointment.
Kevin wasn’t the first person I’d turned down that day and he surely wasn’t going to be the
last.
I felt bad for the people who came to me, knowing that they could depend on me based on
past experience, only to find me incapable and unwilling to help them. Then again, I’d think
about how unfair it was that they had someone to guide them, to hold them up when they
couldn’t even do it themselves, while I had no one.
My thoughts kept me rooted to my place, occupying the center of my attention. Kevin was
long gone, but I was still staring blankly at the spot where he’d stood—until a certain name
pierced through all the other sounds in the hall and drifted to my ear, like a dandelion that had
been tossed away by the strong breeze.
“…oh, Colin, you’re hilarious!”
I snapped out of it, the spell that kept me in place broken merely by that name. I spun
around, trying to find the owner of that name, the reason for all the sleepless nights and
heartaches.
He was closer than I’d anticipated, slouched against a locker with a couple of girls
enveloping him. It was a wonder he could still breathe from how near they were to him.
Roman, who was standing beside him, was the only male to be seen in sight.
Colin laughed at one of the girls’ comments and threw a joke their way. The girls lunged at
it, a bunch of hyenas with a piece of deliciously raw meat.
Basing it on my call history with Colin from the weekend—or lack thereof—no one would
be assuming that Colin would trap me against my locker, demanding that I be his. Well, one
wouldn’t imagine it if one weren’t me.
But I didn’t think he’d be back to his normal self this quickly. I didn’t think he’d be
laughing and kidding around while I was walking around with only a small, miserable piece
of myself left.
I guess it just goes to show how far apart our worlds really were—so far apart that while
one was on the verge of self-destruction, the other went on turning.
Above us, the school bell wailed, alarming us to the start of our next classes. Mine was just
down the hall and I could reach it in no time. Sadly, I was given no other choice but to pass
by Colin’s posse.
I sucked in a deep breath, preparing myself. Just keep walking, I told myself, don’t look at
him and he won’t look at you. Keep your face straight. You don’t care about him. You don’t
care about him. I smoothed down my shirt with one hand and adjusted my books with the
other before stepping forward.
I actually thought it was going pretty well; I was walking with a bounce to my step, chin
up with confidence, and basically, I didn’t look as weak as I really felt inside.
It started going unsuccessfully when the girls had dispersed with fluttering hands and flirty
smiles, and Roman patted his best friend on the shoulder and left for his class. Colin raised his
hand half-heartedly in a wave at them and whirled around—toward my direction.
In that same instant, I made the mistake of looking up, and our eyes met.
Faster than a fire sparking from the strike of a match, I was stuck. I was captured,
mesmerized, and compelled to keep looking, but I knew I had to tear my eyes away before
those green, green eyes of his could swallow me up. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop staring at
him. And apparently, he wasn’t planning on breaking our eye contact any time soon, either.
And then, I just couldn’t take it. Colin had read all of my secrets, my feelings for him, and
he could confirm any of my assumptions—he could be mad, he could be disgusted or he
could possibly, possibly be feeling the same way too—but that last one was just a foggy
speculation I couldn’t depend on. What was I supposed to think? What was anybody supposed
to think if they were in my situation?
So I was the first to look away.
If he really does like me, he’ll say hi, I thought, my limbs as stiff as a pair of new jeans that
you weren’t comfortable with yet. Colin was well within my line of vision, but I fixated on
something—anything else. If he really does care about me like he said he did, he’ll call my
attention and talk to me about the black notebook. He’ll—
I felt Colin’s arm brush against mine as he walked past—and then he was gone.
I lurched to a stop, shocked. Colin had never ignored me like that. Not since he stole the
black notebook.
While everybody else scurried to their classes, I slowly pivoted in my place to look back at
Colin, but he was already getting farther and farther away—until he disappeared from my
sight entirely. I could almost hear my heart breaking again.

***

Date: April 22, 2013

For the past week Colin and I had settled into a sort of routine. In the halls, we’d somehow
find each other, glance briefly for a millisecond, and then look the other way, as if we didn’t
see anything.
There were times when I wanted to break the routine and just come up at him, spill my
heart out for him to take and stomp on if he felt like it, but I always ended up turning my
head, my eyes gravitating away from him as if pulled on by some mystical force.
If that was hard, sitting behind him in Calculus for an entire period was harder. Especially
since Colin loved to talk and joke around with his friends so he’d be squirming in his seat,
unable to sit still, and my eyes would incontrovertibly flicker toward him.
And every single time, I had to close my eyes for a few seconds, reminding myself that
whatever relationship Colin and I were able to build, it was already burned down to ashes.

***

Date: May 3, 2013

The lunch line was a little long but I was in no hurry to eat. I didn’t have the appetite for that
many things nowadays. I usually occupied myself with a book, which was exactly what I took
out of my bag then and opened.
The noise of the cafeteria minimized to a dull buzzing in the background as I poured
myself into the book, letting the words swallow up my consciousness and take me to another
dimension where I didn’t have to think about anything or feel anything besides what the
character was thinking or feeling.
“…you naughty, naughty boy,” a voice said, penetrating through the cloud of indifference
I’d surrounded myself with, and I could picture a certain familiar grin. I would’ve recognized
him anywhere—Colin. “I heard you left two dozen roses inside Rica’s locker. No wonder the
girl didn’t turn you down.”
“Hey, watch it, bucko,” another voice said. “She would’ve said yes to me anyway—
flowers or no.”
“Right.” Colin snickered.
“Oh, shut up, Col,” I heard the other person say. “At least I already asked. Just three weeks
and it’s already prom—aren’t you going to take anyone?”
I was barely focusing on my book now, my hands trembling slightly. He must’ve been at
least a person away from me in the line, maybe two, and I strained my ears to hear his reply,
but there was only silence—silence that seemed louder to me than any of the hubbub inside
the cafeteria.
It was only when I took a step forward in the line did Colin answer with a laugh. “No rush,
my friend. I’m still thinking about it.”
I didn’t know if I should’ve been relieved or disappointed.

***

His friend Jason was waiting for a reply. Colin was entirely aware of Seven standing just a
few feet away from him in the line, bent over another book. He wondered if she could hear
him from where she was, if she missed him like he missed her. He wondered if someone had
already asked her to prom.
He laughed. He was getting pretty good at balancing it out, making sure it didn’t sound
forced, and it implied that he was actually enjoying his time and that he was happy. “No rush,
my friend. I’m still thinking about it,” he said, his answer safe.
Jason accepted his response with a nod and then went on to talk about some online game
he’d recently discovered. Colin kept up the conversation with the right amount of smiles and
questions and going “Woah”, but all he wanted to do was to go up to Seven and ask her how
her day was going.

***

Date: May 5, 2013

“Mom, can I not go to school today?” I asked when my mom came to wake me up fifteen
minutes after my alarm clock failed to do so.
My mom retraced her steps and looked at me, a wrinkle in between her eyebrows. “Why?”
she asked, walking back inside my room to put a hand to my forehead. “Are you sick?”
Does heartsick count? I shrugged. “I don’t feel up to it.”
She stared at me for a long time, scrutinizing my sleepy face. Without a doubt, she could
see the dark circles under my eyes, which were puffy from all the tears I’d shed when the
night was quiet and I was alone with my masochistic speculations.
I glanced briefly down at her stomach and noticed the tiny bump under her shirt. It was
already two months since I first met Candice, and, coincidentally, she’d turned out to be
Colin’s older sister.
“Seven,” she said softly, moving to sit down beside me on the bed, “if there’s something
wrong, you know you can tell me.”
I pulled myself in, hugging my blanket around my shoulders. “I know,” I said quietly.
Mom waited for me to continue, her hand on my back, comforting.
 I’d wanted to tell somebody about what I was going through for months already, to vomit
out all the negative and positive feelings that were mixing together inside me when they
weren’t supposed to be mixed at all.
And here was my mother, offering to help carry the burden on my shoulder.
The problem with our society today is communication. Most teenagers never really realize
how easy it actually is to just tell their parents everything, and likewise parents never really
realize that teenagers want not just to be heard, but also to be listened to and understood.
That doesn’t exclude the friends or siblings that have always been there for you, those who
are willing to be the wooden beams to your collapsing roof. Of course, you can try to forget
about the fact that you’re torn apart with all the fun and laughter you want, but in the end, it’s
only when you’ve confronted your broken parts that you can gradually piece them back
together.
And at that point, I was quite ready to get some parts reassembled. I just didn’t know
where to begin to tell my mom. So I simply said, “Colin and I broke up.” It was the truth and
it was a start.
“Oh, baby, that’s terrible,” she said, genuinely flabbergasted. “Are you okay? I mean, of
course you’re not okay, but you know—are you?”
“I’m holding up.” Barely.
My mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders and brought me towards her in an
embrace. “Who ended it?” she asked.
Just thinking back to that moment, that mistake I could never take back, made me want to
weep—again. “I did,” I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut before the tears could pour out in
one big flood.
“Why?” she asked, aghast. “The two of you were doing so well and I could see he really
cared for you. Don’t you care for him too?”
“I do. I do care for him—gosh, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him, Mom,” I said
exasperatedly, waving my hands around in wild gestures. “It’s just…it’s a long story.”
A smile yanked at the edge of her mouth. “Summarize it for me.”
I sighed, shaking my head. “I…let’s just say that…Colin and I knew the mess we were in,
and yet we delved even deeper into it. There were always opportunities to back out or choose
another direction, but we were both—or I—was too scared to let go because I thought
something so fantastical wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen twice to someone like me.” I covered
my face with both hands. “But now…now the rug’s been pulled out from me and it’s too
late…it’s all over.”
My sentence fell over a cliff and into silence, but before I could lose myself to my
thoughts, I heard my mom say, “Seven.”
The firmness in her voice made me look at her and I saw that she was staring at me, her
gaze unwavering, and she spoke her next words with utmost confidence: “Don’t ever refer to
yourself like that. As if you don’t deserve something good and wonderful to happen to you.
You are beautiful and smart and—”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my mom,” I reasoned.
“No, I’m not,” she countered calmly. “I mean them. There will be more fantastical things
coming in your life and even more after that. They’re just right up ahead, around that small
corner that seems impossible to reach until you’re actually there, until you’ve finally made
that turn and you’ll see. Okay? So don’t beat yourself up before you even got to that corner.
It’s not over yet.”
My lip quivered when I said, “Thanks, Mom,” and buried my head in the crook of her
neck.
 Her words were wonderful and reassuring, and they didn’t have any trouble finding my
heart and the soft spot in it that required mending. They couldn’t wipe the entire slate clean or
magically fix everything, but for now, it was enough.

***

Date: May 13, 2013

I curled up under my blanket, digging my face into the pillow. It was already almost
midnight, but I couldn’t sleep. I’d been tossing and turning since ten o’clock, my mind
wandering to Colin again and—again—what he could be doing, what he was thinking, and if
he’d asked anyone to prom yet.
In the end, I couldn’t take it anymore; I reached over and plucked my phone off the side
table. I scrolled through my contacts and found his name. The call button was just there—
green and glowing and so, so tempting. My thumb hovered over it, shaking as I hesitated.
I let out a breath that was as shaky as my hand. He could still be awake right now. He
could be…
But instead of plunging my finger down on the screen, I closed it and placed my phone
back on the side table, practically shoving it away from me. I threw my blanket over my head
and squeezed my eyes shut. I pushed myself to go to sleep, but I couldn’t deny the fact that
part of me was still waiting, as my breathing slowed and my fingers loosened their grip, for
my phone to ring and for a certain person’s voice to be on the other line.
The night was deafening with its silence.

***

Date: May 28, 2013

“Seven, isn’t your prom tonight?” my mom asked as she busied herself in the kitchen.
“It’s probably starting already.” I was relaxing on the couch, absently swiping across the
screen of my phone, with an episode of Suits playing on the TV.
“What?” Hurried footsteps echoed in the kitchen and all the way to the living room until
my mom finally appeared into view. “Why aren’t you dressed up then?”
“I’m not going,” I stated simply, shaking my head without looking up.
“But, Seven, it’s prom!” she exclaimed, frantically waving around a washcloth. “It’ll be
the night you’ll always remember!”
“Technically, the prom I’ll always remember is going to occur next year—the last year of
my high school life—so it doesn’t really matter if I don’t go now—”
“Seven, you might be prom queen,” she reasoned weakly.
I laughed—more like cackled—and said, “Um, yeah, there’s no way that’s ever going to
happen.” I glided my thumb up the screen of my phone, photos streaming up the site, and
tapped twice when I spotted a nice shot. Most of them were hastily uploaded selfies taken at
prom. I could see girls I knew wearing the beautiful dresses they’d described to me and
couples I’d helped get together dancing.
One picture was of Bianca and Brant, Bianca’s head on Brant’s chest as they swayed to
what I assumed was a slow love song. Despite the envious twist in my gut, I tapped it twice
and a white heart flashed in the middle of the photo.
 My mom sighed, probably realizing how hopeless her case was, and turned away, back to
the kitchen. “Did anyone ask you to prom? Maybe they’re waiting for you right now,” she
said as she went.
Even though she knew Colin and I were over, I could taste the hint of hope in her
statement that Colin would be waiting for me. I was already over with that phase.
The homepage scrolled down and I saw that Kiera had uploaded a picture of Colin. He
looked gorgeous in a tuxedo, and his hair was gelled up in a way that it resembled a wild, red
flame. He was standing with his arms crossed, back straight, a rose in between his teeth, and
my heart clenched at the implication of the picture—that Kiera was Colin’s date. It wasn’t
completely unexpected I guess; they did share a kiss once in a game.
When I glanced down at the caption, though, I was glad to be proven otherwise. Kiera had
written: “I can’t believe this hottie doesn’t have a date tonight!”
Relieved, I sighed, and finally answered my mom’s question, “Trust me, Mom. No one’s
waiting for me right now.”

***

Date: May 31, 2013

Chaos filled the school hallways that day.

Students were running past, jumping and pumping their fists into the air while papers flew
out of their notebooks and littered the floor. Teachers were exiting the classrooms, shaking
their heads and giving us disgusted looks, but nobody cared.
After all, it was already the last day of school.
I stood by my locker, clutching my bag to my chest and laughing as I eased myself out of
the way of the people rushing by. Amy and Nicole flanked either of my sides, identical silly
grins on our faces. Finally, junior year was over.
“See you, ladies,” Nicole cooed, wiggling her fingers at us. “I have to go home and pack.
We’re going to the beach tomorrow!” She made a satisfied sound deep in her throat and
smiled like she’d eaten something sweet. “I can’t wait!”
“Bye, Nicole,” Amy and I chorused, watching our friend maneuver her way out of danger
in the busier-than-usual hall.
“I’ve got nothing this summer,” Amy pouted when Nicole was gone from sight. She’d
been doing better over the past month, ignoring Timothy in class and centering all her energy
on schoolwork. She actually managed to get into the top five in our class. She looked over at
me. “What about you, Seven?”
“I’m going to visit my grandma for a week or so,” I said. “Her place is near Venice
Beach.”
“Oh, I used to go there all the time!” Amy said. “There was one time my cousin and I—”
Whatever story she was about to unfold was promptly folded back because her phone
suddenly rang. Or maybe vibrated. I couldn’t really tell and I didn’t know how she could with
all the noise around us.
“Hello?” she said to the caller. “Yeah. Oh, you’re here? Okay. Okay, I’ll be there in five.”
She hung up and told me, “Sorry, Seven, I have to get going too.”
“It’s okay,” I said dismissively, waving at her apology. “I have nowhere to go right now.
Might as well head to the bookstore early.”
Amy laughed and pulled me in for a hug. “Oh, Seven,” she said. “Don’t be a stranger this
summer, okay? I’ll see you in September.”
 “See you,” I said as she gave me one last smile and turned away. I was about to head out
too, but I was forced to back a step when one of the boys running around hurtled themselves
in my path.
My back collided with someone else’s and I whirled around, my tongue already forming
an apology before I even gave it a second thought. “Oh, sorry, I—”
I must’ve dreamt the entire thing—the end of school days, the topsy-turvy appearance of
the hallways—because after a month, two weeks and five days of not being within a five-foot
radius of Colin Stillman, it was just too good to be true to simply bump into him like this, like
this was some terribly clichéd chick flick.
But there I was and there he was.
I looked up at Colin, my confidence shrinking and my knees melting to jelly, and quickly
shut my mouth. His widened eyes went back to their normal size and to my surprise, he
smiled. At me. Gosh, how long had it been since he’d smiled at me like that?
What else could I do? I smiled back. “H-Hey,” I practically had to cough out.
“Hi there,” he said casually, as if the last time we were this close to each other I hadn’t
slapped him and basically told him I hated him. His voice was soft, his words for me and me
alone.
Awkward silence soon infiltrated our conversation and I fought the habit of darting my
eyes away from his. I just couldn’t take his stare. In those beautiful green eyes, I could see the
black notebook and all those heart-warming words he’d written and most likely didn’t mean.
Colin cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “So,” he said, “school’s
finally over.”
“Oh. Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Time flies so fast. I can’t believe I’m going to be a senior in
a few months.”
He laughed, and it was music to my ears. “I can’t believe I’m going to graduate from high
school in a few days.”
“Right,” I said, shaking my head at myself and grinning apologetically. “Congratulations,
by the way. Are you ready for college?” It was weird talking, so civil and nonchalant, like we
were just classmates making conversation. I was more used to our playful banter and endless
chases up and down that very hall.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, shrugging. “It’s pretty scary, once you’re already on the
spot.”
I gave him a smile I hoped could say everything I couldn’t—that I loved him, that I missed
him, and that I wished our circumstances were just a little different. “I’m sure you’ll do
great,” was all I could say.
“Thanks.” Colin looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. Were
his cheeks turning pink or was I imagining things? I didn’t get to know the answer to that,
though, because someone behind him called, “Col! Come on, man!”
Colin looked back over his shoulder and said, “Yeah, in a second!” He turned to me.
“Well, um…I need to go. Some friends are having a pre-graduation party or something like
that.”
“Oh, sure,” I said, gesturing to his friend, who was still waiting for Colin to stop talking to
me, “Go enjoy your time with your friends. It might be a while before you’ll see them again.
I…I have to go too, anyway.”
“Oh, okay.” He stared at me, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I didn’t know if it was with
concern, confusion or something else.
 “Bye then,” I mumbled weakly before wheeling around and walking away. I‘d only made
at most five paces when Colin shouted after me, “Seven!”
I stopped and spun in my place, my hands closed in a fist to hide my quivering fingers.
“Yeah?” I asked quietly.
Please say you miss me, I desperately wanted to say, Please say that everything’s just a
misunderstanding and you want everything behind us because that’s what I want. I want you
back.
Colin’s mouth twitched into a grin. “I hope you have a great summer.”
My heart fluttered weakly with disappointment, but I still replied with a smile, “Thanks.
You too.”
He waved goodbye, and at that point, I didn’t think I was capable of doing anything else
but turning away. I’m such an idiot, I thought, raising a hand and dragging it down my face as
I marched toward a corner that would take me to the school exit. An idiot who will never learn
her lesson. It would take a miracle for Colin to give me another chance.
 Entry 22: Maybe It Isn’t Too Late

Date: June 4, 2013

Grandma Betty lived in a beautiful two-story house that stood merely a few miles away from
the shoreline of Venice Beach. It was painted pastel blue trimmed with white and had a lovely
porch complete with a swinging bench.
My mom told me that it used to be some ordinary old bench—until she and Patrick, eleven
and spontaneous, needed some extra wood for the bird house they were making and decided
that the four short legs of the bench were exactly the right size.
Grandma had been furious but Grandpa just laughed it off.
“What are you laughing about? It’s completely useless now!” Grandma Betty had claimed.
“Don’t speak too soon, dear,” Grandpa had fired back at her as he winked at his daughter
and her best friend. “Nothing is ever completely useless.”
With the right equipment bought and some help from the very kids responsible for the
bench’s destruction, it was transformed into the swing where my mom had cried on the first
time she had her heart broken by a boy. The second time was by a man’s death—grandpa’s
death.
And for the past summer vacations, that swing had been my spot. I would read, leaning
back on the pillows I’d taken from the living room, and sink into story after story after story
rather than go out to the beach and swim like the other girls.
It had been two days since we arrived and I was once again sitting on my “throne”, as my
dad liked to call it. I had a book with me—two, actually—but there was something different
about it this time.
I was certain it wasn’t the people. Whatever noise they could make, they wouldn’t be able
to pull me out of a book. They never did and I was pretty sure they never would. It wasn’t the
weather. It was sunny with a slight wind picking up, brushing past the chimes Grandma had
hung just above the front steps, but that had never bothered me before.
For some reason, I just couldn’t read. My mind was too busy drifting back to L.A., back to
a particular hallway in my high school where I’d last spoken to the boy I love.
Colin…
I let out an angry groan and shook my head, trying to focus on the words on the page.
This summer was supposed to be the perfect opportunity to get over him, seeing as he
would be too busy with college. I looked up the university in Chicago that Colin wanted to go
to online and found out that there was going to be an early summer program for incoming
freshmen on June six. A little scrolling down Facebook allowed me to learn that Colin was
interested in this particular program.
I knew that it was just a summer program and Colin could always come back and hang out
with his friends and family here, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t come back at
all. He had relatives there that he could stay with. He could spend the rest of the summer
getting used to his surroundings, making friends before school even started and whatnot. That
meant I didn’t have to see him around L.A. anymore.
However, if I kept letting my heart wander back to him like this, there was no way I could
possibly move on from him.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen someone this determined to read,” a voice said, and I
craned my neck to find Patrick resting all his weight against the doorframe.
Seeing as Patrick and my mom grew up together, it was only logical that he knew
Grandma Betty and that she loved him fiercely like a son she never had. Naturally, he was
always invited to summer visits like this one.
“And to think I own a bookstore—I mean, I’ve seen my fair share of weird but this is
definitely different,” he went on, smirking at me as he sauntered over. Despite his present
teasing demeanor, it was impossible for me not to flash back to The Book Station, just a
month ago. I could see it all before me, clear as day: Patrick sitting hunched, lifeless, on the
floor, tears swelling but never falling.
I blinked and this time, I saw Patrick in a thin button-down and black Bermuda shorts,
relaxing against the other side of the bench. He used his leg—the one that wasn’t crossed—to
rock the swing back and forth.
His smile had softened just a notch. “What’s up, Seven?”
“Nothing’s up,” I said, swerving my gaze the other way. I absently flipped through the
book in my hands. “Why?”
Patrick shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Just want to know what’s on
your mind. Everyone else is filled with the summer vibe except you.”
“And you?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. I was certain he could hear me; he was just
pretending he couldn’t. “Did you try contacting your parents again?” I immediately regretted
my words when I noticed his eye twitch in irritation.
His reply was quick and sharp as a sudden sword swipe: “Why should I?” He cleared his
throat and tried to cover up the emotion in his voice. “I’ve been making the effort this whole
time. It’s their turn now.”
I pursed my lips, and my thoughts, as they never failed to do, circled back to Colin.
“But…maybe they don’t know it’s their turn.”
That made Patrick pause. He was already quiet, actually, but I sensed the stop in his train
of thoughts, hesitating before it would turn to its next direction. In the end, the train just went
ahead on its original track.
“That’s their problem now,” he said, almost like he was trying to convince himself.
I wanted to say more, but Patrick didn’t give me a chance. He hopped off to his feet and
ducked back inside the house without even a word of finality. His exit itself implied that this
conversation should be put to bed, and never woken up again.
I sighed, feeling guilty for ruining Patrick’s considerably better mood, compared to the
previous weeks. There was no way I was going to be able to get back to my book at all now.
I stood up, shaking the swing violently from my sudden movement, and went inside to get
my purse. Counting to make sure I had enough money, I called out to my parents that I was
going out to the boardwalk and started heading down the road to where the people, the music
and the colors were more vibrant.
I wish I could say that I easily got a seat at a quiet café, but to be honest, wrestling my way
through the crowd of tourists loitering by the souvenir shops and waiting for a couple to finish
up their drinks and leave so I could take their table wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.
 Nonetheless, I got my seat. I was drinking an iced mocha latte and I was satisfied with
watching the busy street and the foaming waves in the distance.
It was a little after lunch when I’d journeyed outside my house, so naturally the café was
full, but after an hour of playing with my phone and watching some hilarious videos online,
the number of customers began decreasing, and I found myself in the company of the boy
behind the counter and two girls facing their laptops in the far corner.
Most would’ve found this scenario boring, but I actually enjoyed the time to just relax and
space out, my problems momentarily shoved to the farthest alcoves of my brain.
I was still wedged between the fat arms of the couch I’d been sitting on for almost one and
a half hours already, running my eyes over the pastries they had, when the door opened with a
jingle.
And then: “Oh my gosh, Seven! What a coincidence!”
Unaccustomed to the sound of my name in a place where I didn’t know anyone, I jerked
my head toward the door and felt my eyes grew to the size of saucers.
Kiera stood before me in a pink and very exposing one-piece swimsuit. The cleavage cut
reached all the way down to her navel and there were slashes at the sides, showing just how
narrow her waist was. She’d overlaid it with a loose shirt, but it barely served its purpose. For
one, it only reached half of her stomach, and it was almost completely sheer. If her enticing
swimsuit wasn’t attracting enough attention, then my name being yelled certainly did the job.
“Um, hi, Kiera,” I murmured weakly, “Nice to see you too.”
I had no idea what to do. Kiera and I never really had any interaction at school, besides
talking about the latest psychology assignment or borrowing a pencil. I didn’t have any of her
secrets written in the black notebook, and every time she happened to pop in my thoughts,
unbidden, all I could think about was Colin and her making out inside a closet.
Kiera ran over to my place in the café and sat herself down on the couch across mine. “I
didn’t know you came to this beach,” she said. “I notice some juniors every once in a while
but never you.”
“I come here almost every summer, but I just don’t venture out to this part of the beach.”
“No wonder you always look so pale at the beginning of school!” she laughed. I had no
choice but to smile awkwardly at her comment.
For conversation’s sake, I asked, “So, do you always come to Venice beach?” but she
dismissed my question and went on to ask her own: “So, how are you and Colin doing?”
The grip I had on my latte tightened, causing the ice inside to noisily bump into each other.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know you guys got into some love quarrel and stuff,” she said, twirling a strand
of her brown hair with a manicured finger, “but everyone in a relationship goes through that.
You two are okay now, right?”
I almost forgot that nobody knew that Colin and I weren’t actually ever together. “Uh,
we’re…we broke up,” I said.
Kiera’s hand stilled and she stared at me, long and hard, as if I’d grown another head. She
then fixed her gaze on the table between us for a minute or so, and I could practically hear the
wheels in her head turning. “Colin wasn’t the one who ended things,” she concluded, almost
accusingly, “was it?”
Confusion was clear in the way I brought my eyebrows together. “How did you know
that?’ I asked slowly, drawing out each word.
 Kiera couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. She fiddled with her fingers, tapping them to the
beat of the song playing softly in the café. The only answer I got from her was a pair of
pursed lips.
“Kiera?” I asked reluctantly. “How do you know?”
She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. “I just—I don’t feel like it’s my place to tell but,”
she said quickly, “maybe…maybe you need to know.”
I hated being stuck in suspension like this. “What is it?”I asked impatiently.
“Okay,” she said, spreading out her hands before her as if she were smoothing out a piece
of paper, “so you remember Alana’s party? We played Seven Minutes of Heaven and I ended
up with Colin?”
Oh, yes. Quite vividly. “Yeah?”
“Well,” she said tentatively, testing the ground before taking a step forward, “we didn’t
actually kiss.”
At first I wasn’t sure if I’d heard right. “Wait, what?”
“Colin and I never made out like you all thought we did,” she repeated. “And you know
why?”
“No,” I said softly, my mind rushing back to my disappointment at that time, the pain I’d
felt because I thought Colin had actually enjoyed that kiss with Kiera. I gently dug through
my heart, unearthing those feelings I’d buried deep inside. “Why?”
Kiera smiled knowingly at me. “Because Colin didn’t want to kiss me,” she said. “It was a
good thing I didn’t immediately throw myself at him or that would’ve been embarrassing. I
was alright with it, my ego kind of bruised, but I was fine. I had to know why, though. And
you know what he said?”
I shook my head no.
“He said, ‘I’m saving these lips for someone special’,” she quoted Colin’s exact words
from that night. “Now, how often do you hear a guy—and not just any guy, but a guy like
Colin Stillman, who obviously is not a virgin—say that?”
“He’s not a virgin?” I asked.
“Oh my goodness, you were his girlfriend, how could you have not—” her words fell off
their course, sending her to silence. And then she goggled at me; realization had finally
struck. “You guys never did it—”
“Of course we didn’t!” I exclaimed, feeling my cheeks burn.
Kiera raised a hand to her forehead, like she was suddenly coming down with a fever.
“Wow, this is—wow. He’s more serious about you than I thought…but you guys did make
out, right?”
“We…” I shook my head. “Can we get back to the point?”
“Oh. Right. Back to what I was saying,” she said, “what he said left me really curious. And
then it was your turn to have a try at the make out closet with Ray, and Colin casually
interrupts, as if he was just doing you a favor, but I knew. I know. That special someone he
was talking about—it was you.”
“H-How can you be so sure?” I stuttered, still unready to accept whatever hopeful
contemplations the world had to give me. My heart had been broken too many times to truly
believe in anything just yet. “Maybe he’s just some flirt who wants to kiss as many girls he
wants or—or maybe that special someone he was talking about was Maria. I mean, he did
give her a ride home that night.”
Kiera scrunched up her nose. “Maria? That girl just doesn’t know what the meaning of
self-control is. I know I’m not one to talk, but at least I know when a guy isn’t interested in
me and I accept it. She can’t,” she stated. “And besides, I know for sure because I know what
Colin did for you.”
“What Colin…what did he do?” I asked. The rest of my latte was left forgotten on the
table.
“I overheard him a couple times, nonchalantly telling the friends he knew were confessing
their secrets to you to give you a break,” she informed me, “He told them you must be tired,
carrying the burden by yourself and that you shouldn’t be pushed to your limit.”
“He…he did that?” my voice was barely above a whisper. “For me?” I looked down at my
drink, watching it sweat, a tiny drop sliding down the length of the cup, and wondered how it
was possible that I could know so much about other people but I didn’t know enough about
the things that concerned myself.
I remembered noticing that the phone calls and messages I used to receive had gradually
died down. There were barely any new secrets to bother about while I hunted after the black
notebook. I never gave it that much of a thought. I’d always put it to luck.
But as it turns out, someone was working behind the scenes for my benefit.
“Yeah,” Kiera sighed dreamily, “it’s so sweet.”
“It is,” I said, feeling numb. If only I’d seen all of these clues before, if only I hadn’t
freaked out and severed our ties, burned our bridge, maybe things would be different now.
Too late, I kept thinking. Too late.
“That’s how I know he didn’t break up with you,” Kiera said with absolute certainty,
“because he’s in love with you.”
I pressed my face into the palm of my hands. The back of my eyes stung with new tears,
but thankfully, they remained right where they were. “Why are you only telling me this now?”
Through the slits between my fingers, I could see Kiera bowing her head. “I don’t
know…” she started, playing with the frayed hem of her shirt. “I guess I didn’t want to get
involved in anyone’s love story at first. I thought you’d eventually work things out, but
knowing now that you guys broke up, I thought maybe…maybe you didn’t know the whole
story.”
I sat up straight, removing my hands from my face. “You’re right,” I said quietly. “I didn’t
know the whole story.”
Kiera sputtered with guilt. “Seven, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted her, “you didn’t really know what was going on; you were just a
witness.” I pushed myself off the couch and fixed my shirt. “I, um, I’ll go ahead. It was nice
talking to you.”
Kiera could only nod, her mouth slightly agape, as I guided my feet to the door. Once I
was there, though, I looked back. “Thank you for telling me this now, Kiera,” I said. “I
needed the truth.”
She tried for a smile and replied, “Anytime.” We exchanged a wave of goodbye before I
finally left the café.
On the way back, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Kiera just told me. After first
discovering Colin’s message in my diary, I’d been hopeful and I’d gotten this elated feeling
that maybe this was it. This was my happy ending. Now I wasn’t so sure.
I’d been so clueless this whole time. I felt so foolish—acting impulsively when I hadn’t
even seen the entire picture yet. I didn’t know about my diary being in Colin’s possession for
the past months I’d been looking for the black notebook, I didn’t know that Colin actually
harbored the same feelings I had for him, and I didn’t know that he’d done all those things for
me.
 What else did I not know about?
I distanced myself from a couple passing by, the boy carrying the girl on his back while
she pointed to the places she wanted to go. I watched them with hungry eyes and craned my
neck to watch them even when they were getting farther away.
After a while, I shook my head, realizing that I’d been standing there just staring out for
who knew how long.
When I finally reached my grandmother’s house, I was surprised to find the front door ajar
and cheerful voices overlapped each other inside. I warily slipped inside and was even more
surprised to see two visitors in the living room.
They looked to be around Grandma Betty’s age, but you could obviously tell they were
still working their backs off. One of them, the man, was wearing a neat blue button-down, and
from how his silver watch gleamed in the light, I could tell it didn’t come cheap. He had very
few grays in his hair, almost like an indication that he wasn’t willing to give his life up just
yet.
The woman sitting beside him wore a casual yet still elegant dress with a large beach hat
on her lap. Unlike the man, her head was a crown of silver, cut into a complimenting pixie
style.
There wasn’t anything unusual with the scene; Grandma Betty almost always had guests—
friends, distant relatives, or just friendly neighbors coming to say hi—but there was
something different about these two.
One of the reasons could be because Patrick was hugging them like crazy, with a grin so
gigantic it seemed to fill the entire room. Another was that when Patrick thought nobody
noticed, he would take off his glasses and surreptitiously wipe his eyes.
They must’ve sensed my lingering shadow by the doorway because one by one they turned
to me—my dad, my mom, Patrick, Grandma Betty, and then the two strangers. I shifted
awkwardly from one foot to another, returning their stares.
“And who’s this?” the woman asked curiously. She smiled welcomingly at me.
“This is my granddaughter,” Grandma said and then beckoned at me. “Come over here,
Seven. Let me introduce you to two of my oldest friends.”
As I walked closer toward the little circle they’d created in the living room, the man
chuckled and said, “I’m assuming you don’t mean our age when you say oldest.” The elder
folks shared a small laugh.
The woman’s eyes lit up. “So this is your daughter, Julie?” she asked, turning to my mom,
who nodded with a proud smile. “My, she looks just like you when you were her age.”
“Seven,” Grandma said, once I was standing beside her rocking chair, and took my hand.
“This is Sophia and Philip—Patrick’s parents.”
Patrick’s…parents? I directed a questioning look at Patrick, but his face wasn’t turned to
me. He was too busy beaming at his parents, looking much like an excited boy who’d just got
the expensive bike he’d always been waiting for.
Everyone else was expecting a response from me, so I had to turn back to Patrick’s parents
and say, “Nice to meet you both,” with a polite smile.
“So,” my grandmother said, clapping her bony hands together, “why don’t we have some
snacks? I’ve got some refreshing drinks ready as well.”
“Let’s have them,” Philip said, pushing himself off the couch. “I’ll help you prepare.”
As Grandma Betty and Philip headed to the small kitchen at the back of the house, Sophie
called my mom’s attention. “So, I heard from Betty that your husband’s a successful
lawyer…” From there, they began to talk about all of sorts of things—where my mom had
gone to college, had she and Patrick been keeping contact all this time, and if Patrick already
had a special someone in mind.
While they immersed themselves in their conversation, I carefully made my way to
Patrick, who was simply watching his mother with a wistful look. I had never seen him look
so…at peace.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t contact them anymore?” I whispered to him when I was
close enough.
“I didn’t,” Patrick replied, still smiling. “They came on their own accord.”
“Really?” I was genuinely surprised. I figured, after I’d blurted the topic of his parents to
him a while ago, he’d suddenly been overcome with the desire to forgive his parents and talk
to them again.
“Really,” he confirmed. “Apparently, they’ve been calling my apartment but no one was
answering, and then Francesca told them that I was on leave. So they called Betty, she told
them I was here, and they came as soon as they could.”
“Oh,” I said, hesitating with my next words. “But…are you even ready to forgive them
yet?”
Patrick took a moment to collect his thoughts. “At first I wasn’t,” he admitted, “but Betty
explained that they did try to get out of their hectic schedule. Of course, they wouldn’t risk
important meetings that would benefit the future of their company, but then they changed
their mind.”
“Why?” I asked. “What did they do?”
“They let go of the company,” he said simply. “They already had enough money, they had
a house, so they just entered a small business with an old friend to sustain themselves from
now on and that’s why they weren’t able to get in touch. They’d been so busy making time
for me—for me, Seven.” He spoke as if it was a miracle.
A miracle, I thought, distractedly reflecting on the time I’d convinced myself that only a
miracle could possibly give me a second chance with Colin.
“It’s…not that hard to believe, when you think about it,” I said, completely contradictory
to my initial thoughts about Patrick’s parents. “You just needed to let it go, and have a little
faith that things would get better.”
Sometimes when you’ve been pushed too far by life, it gets harder and harder to believe
that anything good will happen to you. You think that it’s foolish to hope and you’re stuck in
suspension, stranded between the lines of waiting for things to get worse and desperately
wishing that your circumstances were different. But in actuality, it’s not at all foolish to hope;
it’s just ridiculous to expect.
Grandma Betty and Philip came back with the refreshments and everyone else settled
down on the couch. My mom waved at Patrick and me to join them and I smiled, feeling a
surge of optimism and energy run through me.
Maybe…maybe it isn’t too late for Colin and me, either, I thought to myself.
 Entry 23: The Beginning

Date: June 5, 2013

Colin was starting to get tired of parties.

They’d just had a pre-graduation party the other day and now they were having another
one. It was always the same thing—bodies dancing in a wild, noisy beat, drinks passed on
from one hand to another, and laughter ringing in the air. The only difference now was that it
wasn’t even sunset yet and most of them were starting to show the effects of drunkenness.
He had to admit it all felt fun and it got you into the kind of high that could get you out of
this world without the help of a drug. Colin used to seek this kind of high—a fleeting bliss, a
temporary sanctuary where he could catch a glimpse of what everyone thought was being
free.
Now, he would have wanted nothing more than to be firmly rooted to the ground.
“Hey, man,” Roman said, appearing out of nowhere and landing a hand on Colin’s
shoulder, “I don’t mean to barge into your moment, but your gloomy face is cramping my
style.”
“Then don’t look at me.”
“That’s quite easy for me, but I can’t say the same for the rest of the people who are
always looking at you,” his best friend said, shaking his head with a smile.
Colin was taken aback. “The rest of the people?”
Roman gestured toward the crowd gathered in the living room. “One, in particular, can’t
seem to get enough of your pretty little face.”
Colin’s heart sped up, wondering if Seven had sneaked into the party to see him. It
wouldn’t be the first time she’d done something daring and spontaneous and just plain clever.
But alas, it wasn’t her. It was Maria. She was standing half-hidden by someone in the
crowd, almost like on purpose so no one could notice her glancing occasionally at Colin while
she swayed to the song. Roman, however, had the eyes of a hawk.
Colin quickly looked away with a frown when his eyes met Maria’s. He obviously
couldn’t hide his disappointment and he didn’t plan to. “So?”
Roman shot him a look. “Dude, seriously. Is this about Seven again? Come on, it’s not as
if this is your first time to break up with a girlfriend.”
That’s because Seven’s not just some girlfriend to me, he thought, and chose not to share
this with his friend.
When he still hadn’t broken the silence, Roman did the honors by sighing. “We’re
supposed to be celebrating, Col,” he said. “We just graduated!”
Just a few hours ago, they’d walked up a stage, taken an appropriate number of pictures
with their diplomas, robes, and caps, and officially graduated from high school. Colin opened
his mouth, planning to reply with some bitter answer, but thought better of it. “I know,” he
said quietly, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, Ro. It’s just…not my week.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Roman laughed, eyes rolling and a taste of sarcasm on his tongue.
 The party went on, and for the first time in a long while, Colin didn’t touch a single beer
bottle. He used to drink just for the heck of it, and, admittedly, because everyone else was
doing it, but now he didn’t feel like having that buzz in his mouth.
He didn’t think it was because of his mood. He was in a pretty good mood, actually,
compared to the past months. This was mostly because Seven had finally talked to him again.
It wasn’t much—just a casual conversation in the hall on the last day of school—and yet it
felt like they were finally able to have some kind of closure. And as long as Colin was sure
she wasn’t mad at him anymore, he was happy.
Well, as happy as he could be.
Colin drifted from room to room, trying to get himself involved in the activities there.
When he reached a room with a group of people playing Seven Minutes of Heaven, he was
overcome by nostalgia and this deep numbness inside him, like there was an empty hole right
in the middle of his chest.
They invited him to join the game, but he refused and settled with simply watching.
“Hey,” a soft voice said, and he turned, expecting a certain raven-haired girl, but when he
blinked it was just Maria approaching him carefully.
Colin didn’t want to have to talk, but he remained where he was. “Hi,” he replied curtly.
“How are you, Colin?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“I’m fine.”
His end of the conversation hung awkwardly in the air, Maria waiting for him to pass the
ball back into her court, but he wasn’t doing anything. Finally, after a few seconds, Maria
sighed, shaking her head. Colin thought she was going to leave him alone, but in the end, she
choked out, “Colin, I’m sorry.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Uh, sorry for what?”
Maria pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowing. This obviously wasn’t just her usual flirty
banter.
“Maria,” he said, trying to get a good look of her face, “what is it?”
She looked up, and Colin was shocked to find tears in her eyes. She looked in pain as she
spoke: “I know that what’s going on between you and Seven isn’t any of my business, but
you have to understand that I was just…I thought it was nothing to you, okay?”
Colin’s eyes grew large with realization, but he still wasn’t ready to believe his
assumptions so easily. “What…did you do exactly?”
Maria hung her head, ashamed to meet his eyes. “I…I lied,” she said. “Seven did call that
night of the party, when Freddie passed his SATs. She was looking for you, and I told her that
she should stay away from you and…I deleted her call. I’m sorry, Colin. I’m so, so sorry—”
Maria continued to shower him with apologies, but by then all he could think was, Seven
called me. She’d looked for me. She must’ve already read what I wrote in the black notebook
by then, and she still wanted to talk to me.
Colin snapped out of his reverie and looked down at Maria, who was now covering her
face with her hands. “I’m sorry, Colin,” she said again. “We just graduated. I might not be
able to see everyone ever again and I don’t want this to be the last memory we have together.
I don’t want what I’ve done eating at my conscience for the rest of my life…”
“But…why, Maria?” he asked. “Why would you do that?”
Her hands muffled her voice, but he heard her loud and clear: “Because I’m in love with
you, Colin. But no matter what I do, no matter how many hours or days or years I’ve spent
with you, being near you and trying to get even closer, I can never reach all the way in here.”
She removed her hands to tap his chest, right over his heart. “Because it’s always been with
her.”
Colin could only stare at her in astonishment. What was he supposed to say? He had no
clue how to comfort her.
Maria was still crying. He reached out tentatively with his hand and touched her shoulder.
She jumped like a frightened kitten afraid of its punishment. She couldn’t even look him in
the eye.
“Maria,” he said, “I can’t say that what you did…is okay. It definitely isn’t. But I
understand why you’d do it.”
Maria’s shoulders stopped shaking and she looked up at him, eyes filled with surprise and
hope. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, smiling gently at her. “Love…sometimes, it isn’t as nice as it
sounds. It can push you to do the worst kind of things to people, even the ones you care about.
It frightens you to the point where all you think you can do to defend yourself is to hurt
others.” He glanced down at the floor, biting his lip. “But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
Maria only continued to stare at him, a fresh batch of tears shining in her eyes.
Colin couldn’t help it; he laughed, shaking his head to himself. “Wow, I can’t believe I just
said that.”
Her mouth, set in a straight line, broke into a small smile.
Someone let out an exasperated sigh, and Colin looked up to see that it was Roman,
standing by the doorway with a bemused look on his face. “There you are,” he said to his best
friend. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He left his spot to move closer to Colin, but
he stopped in his tracks when he saw Maria.
“What happened to you?” he asked her, a little rudely.
Maria opened her mouth to answer him, probably with a sarcastic remark, but Colin beat
her to it.
“Roman, perfect timing,” he said, clamping a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder. He turned
to look at Maria. “Watch over her and make sure she doesn’t get too much to drink. I have to
go somewhere.”
“Wait, what?’ Roman asked, but Colin was already striding toward the door. “Where are
you going?”
Colin paused, one foot out of the door, and looked back at his friends. “To do something I
should’ve done a long time ago,” he said, confidence radiating from his smile, and then
disappeared from their sight.
Roman stared, mouth agape at the place where his friend had been, and then faced Maria.
“Do you have any idea what on earth he’s talking about?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Maria said softly, sighing.
Roman snorted. “Good thing, too. It looks like a pain.”
“It really is. But later on, when you look back at it,” she said, “it’s actually kind of worth
it.”
While Roman gave her an odd look, Colin was rushing down the stairs, two steps at a time.
He swam through the crowd in the living room and managed to get out through the door in
the kitchen. He hopped inside his car and drove, going to the one place he wanted to be. The
darkening sky watched him as he went.

***
When I woke up from my nap, the car was already turning the corner into our neighborhood.
After we’d spent the afternoon talking and getting to know Patrick’s parents, Patrick left
with them, all tanned and full of smiles, to go to some old vacation place they used to go to as
a family. We stayed one more night at Grandma Betty’s house, ate breakfast with her at an
excellent waffle house where she told us stories about her younger years with Grandpa and
Mom’s eyes had watered a bit, and then we went on our own trip back home.
The space in the backseat beside me was empty, and now that Patrick was gone and we
were all tired, conversation was kept to a minimum. That made the entire trip quiet and
boring. And then my phone just had to conveniently drain its battery the moment we didn’t
have any source of electricity.
I had nothing else to do but look out the window and occasionally sing softly along with
the song playing on the radio.
At the start, it was tolerable, but after a while, being idle only made me run possibilities in
my head, and torture myself with the thought that maybe, while my phone was off, Colin
could’ve called or texted.
I tired myself out from thinking and drifted off to sleep.
Eventually, Dad pulled the car into our driveway and got out to take our bags from the
trunk. Mom wobbled out of the passenger seat, her hand resting on her slightly swollen
tummy. I stepped out of the car and moved quickly to help my dad with the bags. I brought
the bags inside and dropped them by the living room. Wasting no time, I jogged up the stairs
and to my room.
My hands frantically searched for a charger and attached it to my phone. I waited for the
screen to come to my life, my foot doing a little tap dance as the seconds dragged on. When it
did, I hurried to check my inbox for anything new, but there was nothing. To say I was
disappointed would have been the understatement of the year.
I slumped down on my bed with a sigh, holding my phone in one hand. But even sitting
down, I couldn’t seem to stop my leg from bouncing up and down. If this restlessness was
because of the sudden disruption from my nap or because I’d been sitting idly in a car for
quite a while, doing nothing, I didn’t know. I just felt like I’d wasted enough time and I had to
do something—although I had no idea what.
I was just about to get up and leave my room when my dad passed by and peeked inside.
“Hey, kiddo, I need your help with something.”
“What is it?”
“Okay,” he said as he strode into my room and sat beside me on the bed, “so Nate’s
birthday is coming up soon.”
“Oh right,” I said dully. “I forgot to get a gift for the twerp.”
“He’s four years older than you,” my dad stated helpfully. “I don’t think it’s right for you
to call him a twerp, even if he is one sometimes.” That let a humorless chuckle out of me.
“Anyway, your Uncle Douglas told me that he’d be coming home next week to celebrate.
We’re thinking of doing something for your cousin, especially since he’s going to be finding
a job in a few months. We were thinking of bringing him to see a football game, but Douglas
tells me that that’s what they’ve been doing for the past birthday celebrations they’ve had—”
“Dad?”
My dad snapped his head at me in surprise. “Yes, Seven?”
I didn’t speak immediately. I ran my hands through my hair, rubbing circles on my
temples. Briefly, I glanced at my phone and felt a tiny twist of pain in my heart when I saw
that it still wasn’t lighting up with a new notification.
 “Dad, if you thought you were betrayed by someone and now all is done and the bridge is
burned, and then here comes the truth, conveniently flying in to show you that that burned
bridge shouldn’t have been burned after all,” I said, “what would you do?”
In response, my dad raised his eyebrows. He stared at me like that for a minute and then
turned away to ponder over what I’d just said. He scratched his stubble, which I didn’t notice
had already grown within the afternoon.
“Let me guess,” he finally said, “this is about Colin.”
I kept my silence close to me, wrapping it around me like a blanket.
When I still didn’t say anything, he went on to say, “Well, I don’t think the bridge’s totally
burned.”
“Please, Dad,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t get my hopes up too high.”
“Hey, I’m not,” he said. “It’s just…if what I know about that boy is true, then the bridge is
still there, just very vulnerable and in need of a renovation.”
I considered the thought for a moment and leaned over to hug my old man. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime, kiddo,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “Read a book or something,” he
suggested. “I heard Mom’s making some really good chicken soup tonight. I don’t think
you’d want to miss it.” He threw a grin at me before leaving the premises. I heard the fall of
his footsteps on the stairs as he climbed down.
I decided to give it a shot and obey my father’s words, and picked up a book I’d read a
month ago. I skimmed through the story again and was already halfway through, barely even
processing the words or the story and just going through the old quotes and scenes I liked.
After a good, solid twenty minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore. I bounced up to my feet and
paced the room. I’d almost burned a path through my floorboards by the time I decided I was
just wasting my energy and time.
I just couldn’t get what my dad said out of my head. I understood what he meant by “just
very vulnerable and in need of a renovation”, but what couldn’t stop bugging me was the
question of when? When was this renovation going to start? As far as I knew, there hadn’t
been any fixing going on either side of the bridge for the past month.
And nothing was going to change unless somebody started doing something.
Fully convinced I knew what I was doing, I rushed to find my sneakers. I hurried to tie the
laces, glancing at the window to see that the sky had already bruised to a light purple. A few
wisps of orange sunlight struggled at the horizon.
I heard the sound of a car going into park outside as I grabbed my phone, but I ignored it,
focusing on my steps as I jogged down the stairs. “I’m going out!” I shouted to my parents,
who were standing in the kitchen, and immediately went for the front door.
When I opened it though, I screamed in surprise.
Colin Stillman was standing right outside my door, wearing dark jeans and a black graphic
shirt. His hair had grown a little longer since he’d last been at my house and he looked like
he’d lost some weight, but he was still as handsome as ever. The scene would’ve almost
seemed normal—a friend visiting a friend—and then I saw the bouquet of tulips he was
holding in his arms.
Colin winced, releasing one of his hands from the bouquet to reach up his ear. “Ow!
Seven, what on earth was that for—”
“Shouldn’t that be my question?” I exclaimed, putting a hand on my chest where I could
feel my heart hammering like crazy. “Don’t just—you’ve got to give me a warning or
something!”
 “Well, you didn’t need to scream,” he groaned, shaking his head and checking to see if his
hearing hadn’t been permanently damaged.
“Try being suddenly inches away from somebody’s face after opening the door in a hurry,”
I said, exasperated, “let’s see if you don’t let out a girly yelp yourself.”
“Oh, Seven…” Colin’s face broke out into a smile and he laughed. “So where were you in
such a hurry to go to?”
I flushed. “I…was just looking for some fresh air.” Idiot! I thought to myself. This isn’t the
time to pretend to be cool! He’s here! Tell him how you feel!
His smile widened to a grin and he cocked his head to the side. “I think the air would feel
fresher if you step out,” he said.
Despite the rate that my heart was beating at, I managed to answer him, “Don’t you think
that was exactly what I was trying to do in the first place?” and walked out of the door with as
much grace and confidence as I could muster.
“So,” I said quietly, turning to him.
“So,” he said back, wagging his eyebrows at me. He looked confident, just as he always
had been, but I couldn’t ignore the way the bouquet’s plastic wrapper was crinkling from his
ever-fidgeting fingers.
We stared at each other for a while and there was this little conversation in our eyes that
went: Do you want to say something? Because I want to say something. But, of course, you
should go first. I insist. Come on, hurry up.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I cleared my throat. “So…what are you doing here,
Colin?”
He waved a finger in the air between us and said, “I was just getting to that.” He looked
down at the tulips in his arms, took a deep breath, and handed them to me. “These…these are
for you.”
I received them with a tiny and yet uncontrollable smile. “Thank you, Colin, they’re so
beautiful. I…don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I just…I need to say
something.”
I nodded, cueing him to continue. He did, saying, “I came to clear up some confusion
‘cause it looks like keeping secrets and hiding behind facades isn’t working out for me that
much.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, trying to desperately calm the butterflies in my tummy.
“First of all,” he said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve done this from the very beginning, when I
knew about your feelings and I was sure about mine. I was an idiot, taking my time, but now
I’m not going to waste another second. Seven, I love you.”
I took a sharp intake of breath. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised anymore; he’d already
mentioned these things in the black notebook. But it was one thing to see it in ink, it was
another to play it all in my head, and an entirely different thing to hear it said to me in person.
“I bet you already read that in your diary, but I’ll say it again so that you won’t over think
it—”
“I won’t over think it.” I could barely breathe. I could barely hear the nearby traffic or
notice that the neighbors’ lights had already been switched on. Everything was summed up in
a rhythmic buh-dump buh-dump buh-dump.
“Please. I’ve read your thoughts, literally. I know you will.” I knew he was kidding by his
smile but I whacked him on the arm all the same as he tried his best to protect himself using
his hands.
 “You know, if it weren’t for these flowers, I would’ve sent you away,” I said matter-of-
factly, momentarily halting my attack. Of course I didn’t mean a single word of it. And he
knew it.
He laughed—this boyish laugh that was like music to my ears. Gosh, I’d missed him.
“But, Colin,” I said, “I do want to know…”
“Anything,” he immediately said. “What do you want to know?”
I hesitated for a moment. “When you gave back the black notebook,” I began, “why didn’t
you say anything? Why didn’t you even try to confirm things with me when you saw me in
person? You could’ve asked me—I would’ve understood.”
“I know you would have…” he murmured. “At least, I know now.” He sighed. “Seven, I
saw you in the hallway after I gave you back the black notebook. I thought you didn’t call but
that turned out to be Maria’s doing. I didn’t know that yet, though, so when I saw you that
morning, I wanted to see how you’d react. I had my doubts, but when you avoided looking
me in the eye, I…”
“You thought I rejected you?” I asked, surprised how things had been working out on his
side.
Colin nodded. “But I still should’ve done something,” he said, voice full of rue. “Maybe
it’s a bit too late, but I’m standing my ground, and I’m not planning on leaving you any time
soon.”
His words touched me but I had to ask, “But aren’t you leaving for Chicago?”
He shook his head with a smile. “No. I decided to stay right here in Los Angeles. I sent an
application to the University of California and just got my acceptance letter yesterday. It’d be
at most a half an hour drive from you.”
“Are you serious?” I asked incredulously. “Colin, didn’t you want to go to Chicago?
There’s even a summer program!”
At first, Colin burrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and then his features relaxed into a
smile. “How did you know there was a summer program?” he asked, although he looked like
he knew the answer to that already.
My face heated up in embarrassment. “I…may have looked it up.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“But that’s beside the point,” I said. “You shouldn’t have given up your dream.”
“I didn’t give up my dream, Seven,” he said. “I realized…I didn’t need to go to Chicago to
be an architect. Chicago was just an excuse for me to escape my father and all the pent-up
anger I had for him. But now that I’m starting to forgive him, I don’t see the point of leaving
home just yet.” He grinned. “Especially because you’re here.”
I stared at him in astonishment. “I can’t believe this is actually happening… You’re really
staying…”
“Oh,” he said, as if he’d just remembered something, “and another confusion I need to
clear up: I’m not in a relationship with anyone because I’m saving myself for this really
special girl.”
I didn’t know what else to do but laugh in delight. “Got it. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” he said, green eyes twinkling. “Do you want to go out with me? And this time,
I’m not asking you to pretend to be my girlfriend in front of everyone or anything stupid like
that. I want to be the only one to kiss you. I want to be able to shout to the whole world that
you are mine and I am yours. I want to shoot down those insecurities I read in your diary and
have the chance to remind you each and every day that you are loved, that I love you.”
 By then tears had formed in my eyes and were ready and just waiting to fall. I stepped
closer to Colin and we were almost chest-to-chest. He sucked in his breath as he watched me.
I stood on my tiptoes and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. We’d had so many
other kisses—delicate ones on the cheek, kisses that were rushed and full of emotion, kisses
that lingered even after we’d gone and went our own ways, but this felt new. This was like the
beginning of something wonderful, and hopefully, something that would last.
He kissed me back, and I felt his hand reach up to brush my hair, but I didn’t let it go any
further because I still had to say my answer. I pulled back and whispered, “Yes. Yes, Colin, I
would love that. I love you.”
His smile was as bright as the sun.