“Hey, punk,” she responded. “You owe me a perusing of your diary.”
“I don’t have a diary,” he said. “But I will write a page just so you feel vindicated.”
“What will it say?” she asked.
“It will say, I’m an emo with lots of emotions that can only be written on this super-secret page that nobody will ever find.”
She laughed. I rolled my eyes and took her off speaker. To Ezra I said, “You shouldn’t make fun of people trying to sort through emotions. Writing them down is a healthy way to deal. Maybe you should try it.”
“You’re right, maybe I should,” he said, obviously just trying to appease me.
Back on the phone I said, “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “It’s not like my notes say anything earth-shattering or secret for that matter.”
“True.” I tucked the note into my book under my pillow and left the RV to find a better place to chat. I ended up walking to a bench I saw in the distance, surrounded by tall pines.
“By the way,” she said. “I told everyone you were throwing a pool party at your house when you get home.”
“How nice of me.”
“Yes, everyone is pretty excited. Where are you, anyway? Have you made it to Seattle yet and seen the school that is going to take you away from me?”
“We’re in Spokane. Seattle is our next stop. I’ve been practicing like crazy.”
“You’ll do great. I wish we liked the same things so we could go to the same school.”
“You know there are plenty of medical programs in Seattle. We can rent an apartment in between our two schools and be roommates.”
“I know, I know, you’ve told me that before.”
“Just think about it,” I said.
“Your opinion has been noted and rejected,” she said.
“Rude.” Some sunlight filtering through the trees left a splotchy pattern on my foot and I moved it around, making the light dance. “Did you ever find out who that guy at the party was? The one you took a bad picture of?”
“I did, actually! He goes to North.” North was one of the other high schools in town.
“Nice. Are you going to call him?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“You should do more than think about it.”
“So should you.”
“Not even close to the same.”
“You’re right. You have a much deeper connection with the guy you should be doing more than thinking about.”
I groaned. “I can’t, Willow. You know how bad it hurt when he left last time? How much worse would it be if I actually fell for him?”
“Pretty sure you already did.”
“No, it would be so much worse if I knew what it felt like to kiss him and I didn’t get to for months at a time.”
“You could write about your angst in a journal. I hear it’s a healthy way to deal.”