My tears washed all my mascara off my face. I lay in my bed, staring at the lavender diary next to the lamp. I did not see Brad for the rest of the day. He had skipped study hall and the rest of the remaining periods.
I had this terrible pain tightening my chest and it was not going away soon. I wished above all else that I was closer to Brad. I wanted to call him. I had to find out where he was-- what that skinny b did to him-- or with him! I could not eat nor sleep.
I detested the fact that today was Friday and I would wait until Monday to see my stolen Prince! I was distraught... Why didn't I notice that girl before? Her name was Vanessa Randall. She kept a low profile that even I did not detect until today.
It was pouring outside. I always loved rainy days. Rain meant bed and bed meant happiness--- but not today. I was in my bed but I was far from being happy. I turned off the lights. Seeing Brad’s face on my wall was unacceptably agonizing.
Did that b know about me? She probably did. Although I was careful when I was stalking Brad, she probably was aware of me. When Brad was talking to her in class, he annoyingly acted as if he had known her before… More disturbing questions popped up in my head. What if they knew each other? Where did they go together--- Brad went with Vanessa----? I gasped! What if? Anything could happen--- if they knew each other--- and Vanessa’s obsession!!
It was at that time that I realized what kind of situation I was in. I rolled off the bed, lay on the cold floor, and cried even more. I slowly crawled to the drawer next to my bed. I turned on the lamp and grabbed the diary. I never had a chance to really read it. I brought it home because I didn’t have time to put back in Vanessa’s locker. Since I failed to pay attention to the time and second period was over, students started to creep their way to the hallway. I had to put back the books quickly. I completely forgot about the diary that was still in my possession. Before I was aware of it, it was too late.
After listening to Brad’s mysterious conversation followed by his absence with Vanessa, I was more afraid of the diary. I wanted to find out what was in it, but could my heart take it all in? I could barely stand my superstitions and uncertain conclusions.
I slowly opened the diary. The first page gave a brief summary:
“Vanessa Randall & Brad Kinns- Kindergartens- to FOREVER!!-Current year: Tenth Grades! This is one year after Brad moved to Phoenix High and I followed him there.”
My heart throbbed real fast. So, they knew each other from before, as I suspected. I flipped, carefully this time, through the pages. It was more of a collage and schedule of Brad’s everyday life. I had to admit, she beat at the obsession game. It scared me that she knew Brad longer than I did. I would kill to see little Brad in Kindergarten but she did. She definitely knew him in ways that I would never would! This idea drove me insane. I had to find a way to beat Vanessa. Brad was mine! He belonged to me.
I sobbed. Then I came to a conclusion. A light bulb illuminated my brain darkened by pain. I had an advantage over that Vanessa. She took notes of Brad’s schedule while I memorized everything in my head. She needed a little book to tell her Brad’s every move. She had been doing this for a very long time; she probably relied on the book so much that she neglected to memorize everything. By stealing her diary, I might confuse her vague memory and completely wipe out all retention of Brad’s schedule—just like students are brainwashed after the teacher announced a surprise pop quiz to test their knowledge.
Thanks to the diary info, I was reminded of Brad’s soccer game on Saturday morning. I would not have to wait until Monday to see him. I was not interested in soccer. To be honest, I was clueless of what was going on, on the field. I often neglected stalking Brad during his games because I didn’t know how to secretly cheer for him. But I was motivated to go tomorrow--- not privately stalking but I planned on sitting with the public. I went to bed shivering at this idea.
The next day I woke early. I wore a tight see-through-knitted shirt with black bra, a black mini skirt, combat boots and long socks. I put on my shiny black heart necklace and tied my hair into a loose but high ponytail. Before I stopped downstairs, I grabbed my little brother’s, Ralph, baseball bat from his room.
“Hey,” He yelled at me. “What are you doing?” He ran behind me in his clean white uniform.
“What do you want?” I asked. I usually ignored him. His presence in his room did not matter to me. I would do whatever I want anyway.
“This is mine and I need it. I have practice today. Give it back!”
“Find yourself another one. I took it first.” I continued all the way to Aunt Betty’s large kitchen.
“That’s not fair!” My thirteen year old brother shouted.
“What’s not fair?” My mom asked smiling. She was still in her PJs at eight in the morning.
“Mag stole my baseball bat!”
“Why did you take your brother’s stuff?” My mom asked me.
I rolled my eyes and sat at the table.
“Feed mom. I need something to make strong.”
“Why? Are you going out?”
“Apparently,” My brother whispered.
“Wearing that? No, Mag you are not going out like this.” My mom said serving omelets for breakfast.
“Fine,” I said.
I ran upstairs after eating, took a small sweater, put it on, and ran back downstairs.
“A sweater?” Ralph wowed. “It’s eighty degrees outside.”
“Your bra is still showing.” My mom said.
I buttoned only the second button.
“And where are you going, young lady?”
“To a soccer game at school, mom” I said annoyed.
“I didn’t know you were into soccer. Is there a boy involved?”
“Of course it has to be a boy, Lin. Why do you think your Goth daughter would wake up so early in the morning to go to a soccer game at her school?” Aunt Betty showed up in her PJs too and kissed me. “Good morning pumpkin.”
I backed off, grossed out. I hated when she did that.
“Am I the only one who find it weird that Mag is going to a soccer game with MY BASEBALL BAT?” My brother pointed out.
It was now or never to sneak out before I was drown with questions. But I stopped. It was the first time I was about to see—at least let Brad see me on a non-school day. It was almost like a date!” I turned and stared at mom and Aunt Betty. I hated asking them for advice. I turned toward the door again, and back again. The words were there but I was lacking of courage to pronounce them.
“Do you need something sweetie?” My mom inquired.
“How do I look?” I said with a forced smile.
“You look fantastic!” She said with a wink.
I could hear my mom and my aunt giggling behind me but I was too happy to care. I was feeling confident… But as soon as the sad memory from last night hit my heart again once I reached outside, my expression became dark. My chest hurt even worse than before, as I walked toward the school with my baseball bat over my neck….