“Okay!” Jill called. “’Bye!”
“’Bye, honey.”
A moment later I heard the front door close. Then I heard a car start and pull out of the driveway.
I was about to say something to Jill, to try and make up with her, when Sunny said, looking thoroughly sneaky, “Well, now’s our chance.”
“To do what?” I asked.
“To go to the other party. The real party,” she couldn’t help adding. When no one said anything she went on, “We could walk over there. We couldn’t have from our neighborhood. But here at Jill’s house we’re halfway there.”
“It’s still a really long walk,” said Maggie. She looked excited, though.
“But we can do it. Easy,” Sunny hurried on.
“Well … I guess we could.” Guess who said that. Me. I was surprised to hear those words come from my mouth.
But not as surprised as Jill was. “Dawn!” she said with a gasp.
I barely heard her. I looked at Maggie and Sunny. “Should we?”
“Of course!” exclaimed Sunny.
“Wait a sec,” said Maggie. “Just let me think. Okay. The party begins at ten. And Jill’s mom will be back at midnight. We can get to the party in half an hour.” She checked her watch. “And it’s only nine now. We could stay at the party for an hour and easily be back before Mrs. Henderson gets back.”
“Cool,” said Sunny.
“Great,” I said.
“No way,” said Jill.
We all looked at her. “But Jill,” said Maggie.
“No way,” Jill said again. “What if we get caught? What if the Bergens call to check on us and no one answers the phone?”
“Are the Bergens your baby-sitters?” asked Sunny.
“No!” cried Jill.
“Well, we want to go to the party,” said Maggie.
Jill crossed her arms. “Okay. If you guys want to go, then go.”
“Okay, we will,” I said.
And we did.
Monday 10/6
Well, it is now 5:30 Monday morning. I got about four hours of sleep last night. I tried to sleep. I just couldn’t. I lay in bed and my thoughts whirled around. I actually tried counting sheep. When I reached 5,000 I gave up. What a stupid idea.
My alarm clock was set for 6:30, but I already turned it off. At about 5:20 my eyes flew open. I knew they wouldn’t close again. Not without help. Glue or something. So finally I turned on my light.
We didn’t leave Jill’s house that very second. First Sunny and Maggie and I all had to go to the bathroom and then we had to get a few things together. Plus, I tried to be nice to Jill.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I said to her. “It’ll be fun. An adventure. You like adventures. Please?”
Jill relaxed a little. She smiled at me. But she shook her head. “No. I can’t go. Maybe I do like adventures. But not this kind.”
“Okay.”
“Do you promise you guys will be back before midnight?”
“Promise,” I said.
“Cross your heart?”
I crossed my heart.
When Maggie and Sunny and I left awhile later, we were each carrying a purse, and our purses were fatter than usual. Two of us were carrying flashlights in case we had to walk down any road that didn’t have streetlights. And Maggie’s sandals were in her purse. She wanted to wear them at the party but said they’d give her blisters if she hiked around in them.
The walk to the party seemed to take forever, and some of the streets were pretty dark. We got out our flashlights four times. Sunny was the only one of us who knew where she was going, and I was glad she did.
“How do you know your way around out here?” Maggie asked her.
“From taking bike rides with my parents. Before, you know, before Mom got sick.”
“Oh,” said Maggie and I.
“Let me see the invitation again,” Sunny said then. Maggie pulled hers out of her purse and handed it to Sunny. “Thanks. Okay. We should be almost there. It should be down that road.”
We were in an area on the outskirts of Palo City that I’d never been in before. The houses were huge, but their yards were huger. There were only a few houses on each road—and a lot of woods between them.
“What time is it?” I asked.
Maggie looked at her watch. “Twenty after ten.”
“Perfect,” said Sunny.
Suddenly I could hear voices. “Listen,” I hissed.
We listened.
“Party time!” cried Sunny.
Sunny had found the house, all right. It was dark (and locked, as I found out later), but the yard was lit with lanterns and strings of lights. Two spotlights lit the pool area.
“Whose house is this?” I whispered. Mostly to stall for time. I was beginning to feel nervous.
Sunny shrugged. “Who knows? That’s part of the secret, I guess. Come on.”
The yard was filling with kids. Only a few were in the pool because it was chilly. Plus, the invitation hadn’t said to bring a bathing suit. I noticed that the kids who were in the pool were swimming with their clothes on. Well, okay, to be more accurate, they weren’t swimming. They were making out on floats.
“Do you guys see anyone you recognize?” whispered Maggie.
“Actually, I do,” I replied. “Quite a few.”
“Quite a few older kids too,” added Sunny.
The eighth-graders were easy to tell apart from the upperclassmen. They were the ones who looked totally uncomfortable as they sipped from plastic cups or tried to light cigarettes.
“What do you suppose they’re drinking?” I asked. On a table near the pool was a huge bowl filled with some kind of pale liquid. It seemed to be the only thing to drink. I didn’t see any food at all.
“I don’t know, but I plan to find out,” replied Sunny. She started to march across the lawn toward the pool.
“Wait!” I cried.
“What?” said Sunny. “Why?”
“Just … wait. I mean, don’t leave us yet. Let’s stick together for a few minutes. I want to, you know, check things out.”
“And don’t we have to tell someone we’re here?” asked Maggie. “Who’s giving the party? Shouldn’t we find them and say thanks for inviting us? We should at least introduce ourselves.”
“I don’t know.” Sunny looked doubtful. “I don’t think this is that kind of party. That sounds like a cocktail party for old people. This one is more cool.”
“Well, just stay with us for a few minutes,” I begged Sunny. “Okay? Then you can go.”
“Okay,” agreed Sunny.
We stationed ourselves near a lounge chair not far from the pool and took a good look around. Music was playing loudly—but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Someone must have set up speakers or boom boxes somewhere. Kids were clustered throughout the yard. One strange thing: I had sort of thought that the purpose of the party was for the upperclassmen to get to know us eighth-graders, at least us select few eighth-graders. But I didn’t see much mingling going on. I saw lots of little groups of older kids, and lots of little groups of eighth-graders, but hardly any mixed groups.
And now, as the sun rises slowly in the east, I hear Carol’s clock radio going off, so I’ll have to stop here for awhile. It’s time to get ready for school.
School. Dum-de-dum-dum.
Thank goodness I’ll have my journal to turn to today.
Monday 10/6, in study hall
Maggie and Sunny and I were standing at the party in a tight knot just trying to get the feel of things. I noticed that the groups of older kids were a little more animated than us eighth-graders. They were laughing and talking loudly. One guy kept throwing kids in the pool. And they were all drinking whatever was in that bowl on the table. A lot of them were smoking, too. They seemed to have an endless supply of cigarettes. The cigarettes kept appearing out of people’s sleeves, pockets, shirtcuffs, and purses.
“Okay,” said Sunn
y after a few minutes of watching things. “Now I’m going to go. I want to talk to people.”
“We’re people,” I said, but Sunny didn’t hear me.
“I’m coming with you,” Maggie said.
“So am I.” I could feel those butterflies in my stomach.
Sunny made a beeline for the table with the punch. Maggie and I were at her heels. Sunny had just reached for a cup when a very cute guy (I think he’s a junior) stuck a pack of cigarettes under her nose. It was all fixed so that two cigarettes were sticking out, one a little further than the other. Very cool. Sunny was supposed to take the one that was sticking out the furthest. I have seen this in movies many times.
But this was not a movie, so things didn’t go quite as planned. Sunny wanted to be cool. And she reached for the cigarette—but with just the slightest hesitation.
“Is something wrong?” asked the guy.
Sunny turned on an absolutely charming smile. But I knew she didn’t want the cigarette. I also knew why.
“Oh,” I said to the guy. “She doesn’t smoke. Her mother’s dying of lung cancer. Thanks anyway.”
“Whatever,” the guy said, and left.
I watched Sunny. I have never seen so many emotions on a person’s face at once. She was aghast at my rudeness. And she was in shock. Neither one of us has ever actually said that her mother is dying. But I could also see that she was trying not to laugh.
So was Maggie. “I can’t believe you just said that!” she exclaimed.
“Me nei—” I started to say. But at that moment two girls walked over to us, each carrying several cups of punch. They handed one to me, one to Maggie, one to Sunny.
“Here you go. Try this,” one said. Then they walked away.
I looked down at the cup in my hand. I sniffed at it. I could smell something vaguely fruity. Also something strong.
“Well, down the hatch!” said Sunny. And she chugged her entire cup, her head tossed back.
Maggie took a sip of hers. “Interesting,” she said slowly.
I took a sip of mine. I spit it out. “Oh, ew! That is disgusting! Sunny, how did you drink yours? It tastes like strawberries and insect repellent.” I wouldn’t have been surprised if my throat had caught on fire. How had Sunny drunk hers?
In all honesty, Sunny’s eyes looked sort of watery. But that was it. Her head wasn’t spinning around or anything. In fact, in a vaguely hoarse voice she said, “I think I’ll go get a little more. See you guys. Ciao.”
That was the last I saw of Sunny for quite awhile.
I looked at Maggie. “What do you think this stuff is?” I asked her.
Maggie considered. “Strawberry wine?” she suggested.
I shrugged.
Maggie set her cup down. I set mine down too. It was a good thing we’d eaten at Jill’s house.
“Blech,” I said. We left the mostly full cups and wandered away from the pool. Suddenly Maggie gripped my arm. “Hey! Is that Justin Randall?” she whispered loudly.
I peered at the guy she was pointing to. “I don’t think so,” I said.
“Oh.” Maggie sounded disappointed.
We stood around then for awhile. A long while. Until …
“Dawn? Maggie?” I heard someone say. It wasn’t Sunny. I turned around. Standing behind us was an eighth-grade girl I sort of recognized. The new girl. The one who might be named Amelia. Or Amalia.
“Hi,” I said. “Um …”
“It’s Amalia?” she said. “Amalia Vargas? I’m in your study hall?”
“Oh, sure,” I replied. “Hi. I’m … well, I guess you know us.”
“Kind of.” Amalia looked as nervous as I felt. “So you got one of the invitations too.” She looked around at the party. “This is kind of weird, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Did you come by yourself?”
“Yeah. I was supposed to meet—”
Amalia stopped talking. She was stopped by someone who grabbed her arm and then burst out laughing. Very, very loudly.
“What—” Amalia started to say.
“Sunny!” I cried.
“Oh, Dawn. How nice to see you!” Sunny exclaimed. She wobbled slightly. “Isn’t this fun?”
Oh, man, I thought. “Sunny—”
“Well, I need another little drink,” said Sunny.
“No, you don’t,” said Maggie.
Sunny looked directly into Maggie’s eyes. In a slow, careful voice she said, “Yes, I do. You see, I am very, very firsty. Thirsty.”
Sunny turned and walked away, listing to the right.
I looked at Maggie and Amalia. Suddenly Amalia grinned. “She’s sloshed!” she cried. “I’m sorry, but it’s a little funny.”
Maggie was smiling too. “She’s not sloshed, she’s shloshed.”
“She’sh slossed,” said Amalia.
“Shlossed,” I said.
“See? We can talk like that without drinks,” said Amalia.
I decided I liked Amalia.
Maggie and Amalia and I hung out for half an hour or so, goofing on people, gossiping, turning down drinks and cigarettes.
Finally, just when I realized we better pay attention to the time, I heard a pathetic voice say, “Dawn? It’sh me, Shunshine. Do you know where the barfroom lives? I mean, where the bathroom is? I need it des—disp—badly.”
“Sunny! How much have you had to drink?” I demanded.
“Oh, a fair amount. That nishe boy keepsh refilling the bowl. But you know what? I feel a little, oh …”
That was when I noticed the awful shade of green Sunny’s face had become. Green and pale at the same time.
“Oh! Ew! You’re not going to barf, are you?” shrieked Amalia.
She shrieked it loudly enough so that a bunch of older girls all turned around and looked at us. With horror, I realized they were Mandy Richards and her friends.
“Barf fest!” called Mandy gleefully. “We got one!” I realized that Mandy had been hoping us eighth-graders would drink enough to get sick.
I don’t think Sunny heard her. “Dawn, there ishn’t mush time. Where ish the bathroom? Thish ish ekshtremely improtent.”
“I—the house looks locked, Sunny.”
“Oh … oh, no.” Sunny put her hand to her mouth.
Amalia stepped back.
“Get her to those bushes!” cried Maggie.
I yanked Sunny over to some bushes at the side of the house. Just in time. Sunny let loose, spewing all over the bushes and her shoes. I patted her back. After a minute or two, I peered out from the bushes.
Mandy and her friends were standing nearby, smiling. Honestly, Mandy looked sort of evil. Amalia and Maggie hung back, humiliated.
“It must be her first time,” I heard Mandy say. “Which figures. She’s here with Puppy Pal.” This was followed by laughter.
I ducked back behind the bushes. “Sunny?” I said softly.
After a pause, she replied, “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“No! I just barfed all over everything. I have never barfed so much in my entire life … Wait … I’m not done yet.”
After some more choking and puking, Sunny said weakly, “Okay.” She stepped out of the bushes on wobbly legs, like a colt trying to stand for the first time. “Oh, my God,” she said.
“What?” I replied.
“Everything is all foozy and wuzzy. I mean, fuzzy and woozy. Spinning around.”
The party was beginning to seem like a very bad idea to me. I looked at my watch. We would have to leave soon. I could not believe that we still had to walk all the way back to Jill’s. And with Sunny as sick as she was, it was going to take longer than it had taken to walk to the party. Which was longer than we had figured in the first place.
One big bad idea.
How was I to know it would get worse?
Monday afternoon 10/6
Well, school is over. I made it. I survived. Somehow. But the trouble isn’t over. We’re going to have an assembly tomorrow, which is
bad enough. Worse, though, just like I thought, Ms. Krueger wants to see Sunny and Ducky and me in her office before the assembly. Now that’s where trouble could lie.
But back to Saturday night, so I can explain who Ducky and Ms. Krueger are, and catch up to today.
Sunny lay down on the front stoop of the house. She said she couldn’t even think about walking back to Jill’s until she had recovered. I tried to get her to at least sit in a lawn chair, but she said that was too much effort. She was like a limp noodle, and she needed to lie down.
While Maggie and I waited for Sunny, we edged away from Mandy and her friends. Amalia stuck with us.
“Does the music seem louder to you guys?” Amalia asked. She had to shout to be heard.
“Yes!” I screeched back. “Definitely!”
The volume had been cranked up to an eardrum-shattering level. The bass was so loud that the earth seemed to be pulsing beneath my feet. More kids had arrived at the party. They brought beer. The louder the music got, the louder the kids got. And the air around us was a haze of smoke. It stung my throat and eyes.
“Hey! Hey, there’s Justin Randall!” Maggie suddenly shrieked. “This time I really do see him!”
“Someone else sees him too,” I remarked. “Mandy. Look.”
Not far from us, Mandy eyed Justin, turned, whispered something to one of her friends, then gazed at Justin again.
It was at this moment, this precise moment (I’ll never forget it), that I heard the cry of, “Everybody in the pool!”
That was it. It was like unexpected lightning on a summer night. The sky is clear, no storm clouds, then, without warning, lightning flashes—and hits a tree.
Same thing at the party. Everyone was just standing around, then someone yelled, “Everybody in the pool!” and in the very next second grabbed a nearby girl and threw her in the pool. Then he reached for another person and another.
The first girl came up sputtering. “Hey! My watch!” she yelled.
No one paid attention to her.
The boy who had thrown her in the pool was still grabbing other kids and flinging them in the pool. They didn’t look any more pleased about it than the girl had.
Diary One: Dawn, Sunny, Maggie, Amalia, and Ducky Page 5