Things We Didn't Say_ A Novel - Kristina Riggle [67]
Big Mike looked not at all ashamed. He hopped down from the chair, my own chair I could see now, and tossed my diary carelessly down on my desk, making kissy noises. Kids started shoving Tyler toward me, and he was backpedaling with his feet. Big Mike grabbed me, and he smushed me into Tyler, shouting, “Does she have a real woman’s body? Does she?”
“Enough,” shouted Mrs. Thomas from the doorway, walking in as the bell rang. “Everyone to your seats.”
Her stern demeanor was for everyone at once. She always regarded her class as one organism, behaving or misbehaving as a unit. It never occurred to me to tell her what had happened.
I slunk into my chair and glanced at the lock before I buried my diary back in my binder. The flimsy thing had simply been busted open.
I later heard from Tina that she’d mentioned my diary to Jenny, something about how she heard I had a cool purple one and I’d brought it to show her, and Big Mike had overheard and run right to my desk.
For weeks afterward it was the cool thing to do, to grab Tyler and shove him at me. Once Nick Allen smashed me up against a locker, feeling my chest for a woman’s body, declaring it not there yet.
If Tyler happened to glance my way, he always looked like he might vomit and he’d scurry away as fast as possible. All things considered, I couldn’t blame him.
I threw away the purple diary in a Dumpster at the grocery store. I eventually bought a plain notebook and hid it between the mattress and box spring in my room, publicly declaring that diaries were lame anyway.
Because if I learned nothing else in seventh grade, I learned that one flimsy lock is hardly enough to protect your secrets.
Chapter 28
Angel
It’s kind of nice doing dishes with my mom. It’s so . . . normal.
When my phone bleeps in my pocket, I dry my hands and reach for it. I have to hold the phone out of my mom’s view because she’s stretching her neck to see.
It’s Scott. I’ve been trying to get his attention for weeks now.
Ru OK? Found him?
I hadn’t told him about Dylan, but word gets around. And he’s concerned! It’s sweet. I feel a little guilty being happy about his concern, considering the reason.
Yeah. He ran away, he’s fine.
Cool. Coming 2 the party?
I hadn’t even had a chance to ask my dad about Hannah’s party. It’s not the kind of thing he normally lets me go to. It’s not chaperoned, and there will be booze there. Not that I’d be up-front about that, but he’s not an idiot and he’d figure it out on his own. I pause, my thumbs over the buttons, not wanting to say “My dad won’t let me go” because that makes me sound like a baby.
Sure, I type in. I’ll figure out a way to make it work. Later.
The floor creaks behind me and it’s my mom, trying to peer over my shoulder. She rubs her hands together, like something really exciting is coming. “A boy, huh?”
I roll my eyes and walk past her, accidentally bumping her arm.
“Hey! You’re just going to shove me out of the way, now? Since I don’t live here, you think you can treat me like crap?”
I turn slowly on my heel, my heart starting to beat hard, like it always used to when she shouted.
Then she shakes her head a little. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, hon. I just love a budding romance. What’s his name?”
“Scott.”
“Ooh, how old is he?”
“He’s in my grade.”
“How do you know him?”
“I said, he’s in my grade.”
“Do you have classes with him?”
“Yeah, some.”
“Which ones?”
“Algebra Two and drama.”
“Is he cute?”
“Mom, please.”
“What? I just like knowing what’s going on with you. In case you haven’t noticed, we lost a kid recently because no one knew what was in his head.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, someone thought I was such a horrible mother, but then look what my stand-in does?”
I’m no big fan of Casey, but this is so not fair.
“This is no one’s fault but Dylan’s. He’s the one who ran away. Be mad at him if you’re going to be mad at somebody.”
My mom puts one hand on her hip, looking