Stevie looked over at her friends. Nate begged her with his eyes to stop.
Stevie was not going to stop.
She turned her focus on one person in the room—someone she needed to maintain eye contact with.
“This person was right to worry about Sabrina,” Stevie continued. “And Allison. And me. They tried to shut us all up. But it didn’t work.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Stevie saw Nate sag. Janelle kept looking at Stevie, her eyes worried but curious. David, agent of chaos that he was, looked ready to ride with whatever lie was about to come out of Stevie’s mouth.
It was now or never.
Stevie slid her uninjured hand into her cast sling and withdrew the diary.
“Who wants to hear what Sabrina Abbott has to say?” she asked.
28
OVER THE COURSE OF THE AFTERNOON, STEVIE HAD GOTTEN VERY familiar with the contents of this little book. She had marked pages with sticky notes—dozens of them. Now it was time to read:
JANUARY 3, 1978
Welcome, 1978. Nice to meet you. Time to crack open this fresh new diary I got for Christmas. I like that this one has a plain red cover this time. I liked the Snoopy one from last year because I will always love Snoopy and nothing can stop that, but this one is more of what I’ve got in mind for the future.
We went back to school today after the holiday break. There was talk about delaying the opening because of Michael Penhale, but apparently it was too complicated so we went back at the normal time. I can’t believe it’s been two weeks now since Michael died. In school today it was all anyone was talking about. Even if you couldn’t hear people talking, it was everywhere. You knew if people were keeping their voices down, that was why. I saw Todd Cooper about twenty times. He was walking around like nothing was wrong, like half the town doesn’t think he killed Michael.
My parents said the police checked into it and found he was at home when Michael died. They think someone from out of town who didn’t know the road did it. Dana probably did see a brown Jeep, but there are loads of brown Jeeps.
And I guess I think that too?
Piano: 45 minutes
History: 35 minutes
German: 20 minutes
Admission essays: 3 hours
JANUARY 7, 1978
Maybe I’m strange, but I was really happy when school opened back up. The holidays are nice, and I usually love them, but Shawn was around all the time. I used to like that, but it’s starting to wear on me. I guess it’s because I have to get my college applications out this week and I’m not done with all my essays. I’ve written them out in my notebook and I’m almost done with the edits. Then I have to type all four of them up, which will take a full night. (I really need to learn how to type. I can play piano, why can’t I type? Goal for 1978: learn to type.) Anyway, even if he comes over to work, I can feel his presence in the room. I want to be on my own to finish this up.
Maybe part of it is that he asks me a lot of questions about whether I really want to apply to Columbia, is that really my top choice. Don’t I want to apply to Cornell instead? Or SUNY? He doesn’t understand that what I want is something entirely different, entirely new. I want to live where there is culture, and art, and life. All kinds of life.
Piano: 25 minutes
Calc: 45 minutes
German: 35 minutes
Physics: 30 minutes
History: 25 minutes
Admission essays: 2 hours 15 minutes
JANUARY 9, 1978
I stayed at school late today to use the typing lab to type up my applications. I thought that would give me some privacy and let me finish. Shawn found me. I didn’t even tell him I was staying. Doesn’t he do anything else except float around the halls like a ghost looking for me?
He said he wanted to drive me home, which is something I guess. Maybe my parents sent him over so I wouldn’t take my bike. After what happened with Michael, everyone is a little freaked out by the thought of riding a bike after dark.
But still, someone could ask me.
Calc: 20 minutes
German: 50 minutes
Admission essays and application forms: 3 hours
APRIL 5, 1978
It’s three in the morning. I can’t do this anymore. Have to go to sleep.
I managed to get home from school by four, so I thought I could get done early. I practiced piano for an hour, and then Shawn came over. My parents told him to stay for dinner, even though I didn’t really want that. I have things to do. He hung out to “study” with me in the rec room, even though he didn’t want to study and I actually did. I sat on the beanbag and he was sulking on the sofa, pretending to read The Catcher in the Rye. I finally told him to go around eight, because I could feel him looking at me and I couldn’t concentrate. He complained. My mom brought down some Pepsi, so he dragged that out. It took him an hour to drink it, like it was a magical bottomless glass. Finally, he left just after nine, and I got down to my physics project.
When I was done, I put my headphones on and listened to Fleetwood Mac in the dark, sitting on the floor. This album, Rumours, is supposed to be about how everyone in the band was breaking up with each other even as they had to work together. Stevie and Lindsey are clearly fighting. You can hear it. It started to rain while I was sitting there, and Stevie was singing “When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know.” And in that moment, I did know.
I don’t want to go out with Shawn anymore. I want to break up. Yes. Even as I write this, I realize it’s true. The rain is washing me clean, and I do know.
Oh my god, I’m going to break up with him.
I feel good. Like, good in a way that I haven’t felt in a while.
Now they’re singing “You can go your own way.” Are they singing to me?
Thank you, Lindsey. Thank you, Stevie.
This is the last time I count the hours I spent on subjects, because after this, my hours will be mine:
Piano: 1 hour
Calc: 25 minutes
German: 45 minutes
English: 45 minutes (reading)
History: 1 hour (reading)
Physics: 3 hours
Shawn: done.
APRIL 6, 1978
I’ve decided to do it this weekend. Somewhere neutral. Somewhere I can get out of. I’m thinking the Dairy Duchess.
APRIL 8, 1978
What a goddamned nightmare.
APRIL 9, 1978
I couldn’t write about it yesterday. It was too much.
I met him at Dairy Duchess. I thought it would take me forever to get to it, so I jumped ahead. I said, “I think we should break up.”
He stared at me. It was obvious he had no idea this was about to happen. I think maybe he thought I was kidding at first? I started to say it again. He said, “No.” Not mean. Not angry. Just confused? I started to panic, because he looked so baffled and sad.
I don’t want to go into detail about what happened for the next hour. There was a lot of crying. From him. I just sat there. He was begging me. In public.
I left him there and biked home.
Then I had to tell my family what I’d done. They freaked out in a way I did not expect. My parents didn’t exactly yell at me, but they definitely gave me the third degree about it, like was I sure? Was I acting in haste? I swear to god they asked me more about this than where I was applying to college. I mentioned this, very calmly, and my mom said, “You can go to college anywhere, but you only marry one person.”