The Black Notebook
Isabelle Snow
Copyright © 2017 by Isabelle Snow.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Alicia Y
Liezel Ann Gaspar
Aby G.
I would definitely recommend this to those who hate romance genre as this story is going to change that. It's wonderfully done and super hilarious. Not to mention all the sarcasms! The characters are captivating, they wont let you off from your reading – Lola Dave
I just can't explain what I experienced reading this book. It's just pure bliss. I just love Colin and Seven. Anyone can relate to Seven's crush on Colin. I totally related to Seven, because I go through what Seven went through everyday. I totally recommend this book to EVERYONE. I just LOVE the book. – Simran Ojha
Table Of Contents
Entry 1: The Secret Keeper
Entry 2: Colin Stillman
Entry 3: Plan A – Confrontation
Entry 4: Plan B - Ninja Style
Entry 5: Plan C – Ninja Style Part Two & Plan D – Threat
Entry 6: Plan E – Brute Force
Entry 7: Plan F – Text Attack
Entry 8: What If?
Entry 9: Plan G – Who Said Slaves Can’t Have Minions of Their Own?
Entry 10: Plan H – Reverse Psychology
Entry 11: Well, That Didn’t Go As Planned
Entry 12: Plan I – Retaliation
Entry 13: Plan J – Spontaneity
Entry 14: The Boyfriend
Entry 15: Truths and Realization
Entry 16: Plan K: Seduction
Entry 17: One Last Try
Entry 18: Fortunate Misfortunes
Entry 19: All Good Things Come To an End
Entry 20: The Black Notebook
Entry 21: Ignorance Is Bliss—Being Ignored Isn’t
Entry 22: Maybe It Isn’t Too Late
Entry 23: The Beginning
Entry 1: The Secret Keeper
Date: March 7, 2013
Keeping a secret can be very exciting. To be trusted to hold onto something so delicate, to know something no one else knows—things can become pretty interesting. But it can also feel utterly exhausting.
Unfortunately, I only realized that last bit in the spring of my junior year. I was sitting quietly in bio class, my tongue dry and a headache pounding inside my temple, when I started feeling the effects of it.
Usually, classes granted me a brief moment of freedom and relaxation where nobody would interrupt the teacher’s lecture and the only occasional disturbances were whispered words and paper conversations. I know that sounds weird and definitely not what a normal sixteen-year-old girl would think, but I had my reasons.
Somebody whispered my name and I turned my head microscopically to the side, indicating that I’d heard them. The person sitting behind me slipped their arm around my chair to shove a tiny carefully folded piece of paper into my hand.
My fingers automatically closed around it just as a soft sigh escaped my lips. Here we go again.
Part of me already knew what message the note would hold even before I cautiously spread the paper over my textbook, my eyes following the teacher’s movements. I looked down.
Seven, I’ve got something to tell you later after class! – M
I knew it.
This, sadly, was nothing out of the usual.
I had always wondered why it was that people trusted me so much with their secrets. Or perhaps it was just all one big coincidence that almost my entire batch—close to being the whole school, in fact—told me everything.
A lot of people would gladly swap places with me, to have the opportunity to know others’ deepest secrets. For some, it was simply because they wished to know someone more, to feel as if they were trustworthy, but those individuals were rare. More often than not, people just wanted to use those secrets to their own advantage.
Maybe that was the reason why they trusted me; I didn’t want to hurt anybody and genuinely liked helping other people.
But no matter how goody-two-shoes that sounds, I’m also human and have a lot of limits.
It had started out to be a little fun at first, pretending I was some Mother Goose, but as more secrets flowed into my life things began getting more complicated than I had bargained for. Even for me—and I wasn’t even part of the whole equation. I was only supposed to know the problem and find a solution.
Take Bianca, for example. Before I went to bio she had practically dragged me out of the busy hallway and into a quiet corner so we could talk privately. With a blush on her cheeks, she told me about her childhood friend, Brant.
You see, she has had this huge crush on him for almost her entire life. She was still unsure of his feelings for her, but there were times when he’d show some hint of affection that seemed to be for someone who was more than a friend. And just recently she’d realized that perhaps she was already in love with him.
Now, although it was less frequent for boys to approach me with their secrets, Brant was one of the few who did. And what did I find out?
Brant had liked Bianca for almost as long as she’d liked him. Great for them, right?
But now there was another girl, Minerva, who’d just transferred from another school because she used to be bullied there. She confessed that she liked Brant too. He helped her out with her studies and was just so sweet and kind to her that she couldn’t help falling for him.
This, Brant had told me, was because he was best friends with Minerva’s twin brother, Marvin. And then here was the tricky part: Bianca and Minerva were best friends too.
Cue: It’s A Small World (After All).
I glanced over at Bianca, who was seated a few rows away from me and was laughing at what Minerva had just whispered in her ear. They were probably oblivious to the fact that they liked the same guy.
Glad that they’re having the time of their lives, I thought bitterly.
I actually didn’t mind this, really. I loved giving advice and helping people, but there are times when nature should just take its course without any human intervention (that would be me).
But since the aforementioned human intervention was asked for, I had to give it.
So I told Brant, “You should go for it. I think she’ll have a positive response,” and to Minerva, “Well, I’m not so sure, honey. He might just be doing it because he’s friends with your brother. You can’t do anything if the guy likes somebody else. If it’s yours, it’s yours. If it’s not…it’s not, okay?” And just a little while ago, to Bianca, “Just keep the friendship up. You can hint your feelings to him here and there but don’t be the one to initiate. If he likes you, he’ll come around.”
I should get paid for this.
As the class went on around me, I glanced up at the clock on the wall and dreaded the moment the hands would move to end the class. I begged with all my willpower for it to last a little longer, but I was soon forced to come to terms with the fact that life was simply not fair.
In a matter of minutes, the teacher was already wrapping it up, announcing the homework, and waiting for the bell. I closed my eyes and groaned under my breath, getting ready for what was sure to come.
The bell sounded more like
a scream to me when it rang, a scream that said: “Get out of there now!”
And once we were allowed to, I did.
Sadly, there was a reason why I didn’t join the track and field or excel in any particular sports.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder and I jumped guiltily, a squeal involuntarily leaving my throat. I whirled around and faced a boy with short brown hair and a toothy grin. It was Marvin, Minerva’s twin brother. “Seven, where are you going?” he asked. “Didn’t you get my note?”
I swallowed, guilt burning a hole through my stomach. I theatrically gasped and slammed the heel of my hand against my forehead, saying, “Ah! Sorry, Marv! It completely slipped my mind because I was, uh, thinking about the test in my next class, which I’ve got to go to right now so…”
Marvin looked puzzled. “Um, Seven, we have the same class next period, which is English Lit, and there’s no test today.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face, my acting faltering for only a second. I quickly feigned laughter and wiped my brow with the back of my hand in relief. “Whew! That’s—that’s great news! That totally slipped my mind, too. The test I was, uh, thinking about must’ve been for another class. See? I’m getting really forgetful nowadays.” I shook my head at myself for good measure.
Marvin’s confusion and slight worry immediately eased away and disappeared. He beamed at me and said, “Good. Well, while we’re on the way to class, I do have something to tell you.”
It seemed I had not said this specific line enough in my lifetime because here I was again, saying for the umpteenth time, with that stupid smile plastered on my face, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, actually,” he said as we headed together to class. I knew most of the people in school, and as we walked down the hallway several of them greeted me and hinted that we needed to talk later for some reason. “So, you know my best bud, Brant, right? He’s told me that you’re a pretty good listener. And…I’m getting these vibes that he’s got the hots for my twin.”
I resisted the urge to open my mouth and immediately contradict that statement. I had to choose my words carefully. There was a big chance that if Marvin found out that Brant not only didn’t “have the hots” for his sister, but also didn’t tell him that he liked another girl, their friendship just might come crashing down.
Two relationships destroyed in the process of one happy love story.
And depending on the words that I’d offer to them as advice, I would be responsible for what would happen to these four individuals.
Sure, they wouldn’t blame me for it, but I’d feel so guilty that it would be as if they did. I would just have to hope that they wouldn’t take the opposite direction of where my advice was supposed to be leading them.
“You think so?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Marvin nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, he’s been helping her a lot with her studies even when she doesn’t get the answer after letting him explain it, like, ten times already.” He rolled his eyes and said, “But anyway, I think he and Minnie look good together. Wouldn’t that be awesome if my best friend became my brother-in-law?” He let out a whoop of laughter.
I grinned at him, agreeing. “That would certainly be great, Marv,” I said then painted a sober look on my face, “but I think you shouldn’t put words he didn’t say into his mouth.”
He considered it for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he thought, and then asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, he might like someone else,” I said with a light tone, keeping it as vague as possible.
He nodded slowly, as if reaching a point of understanding. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, he didn’t say anything to me about any girl he might like, so…” We reached the door of the classroom and he looked up at me with a smile. “Thanks, Seven,” he said. “I’ll ask Brant first then.”
“You do that,” I said. “And you’re welcome.”
His group of friends, one of them being Brant, called him over to the back row where they were all already seated. He greeted them cheerfully as I went to my own seat, which was beside the window with the perfect view of the sky and the newly trimmed grass of the field. I squinted at the sunlight. It was a beautiful morning.
Somebody took the seat beside me—a girl with short black hair and freckles dotting her cheeks. Her name was Amanda, and I only knew her because she’d come to me before for the same reason that Marvin came to me just a few minutes ago. “Hey, Seven,” she said, smiling at me with teeth caged behind braces.
“Hi,” I said, flashing a smile her way.
She turned around in her seat so she could face me and leaned forward. Her dark eyes darted to the sides to check for eavesdroppers before she whispered, “She’s at it again. Remember the last time she did it?”
I stared blankly at her for a moment. What was her secret again?
I searched quickly through the folder in my brain where I kept all the things they told me but—
ERROR: FILE COULD NOT BE FOUND.
This had been happening a lot lately.
A ton of them would come up to me, pulling me to the side and whispering, “He asked me out!” or “What you told me really worked!” or “Code 1654, Seven”—seriously, was I really supposed to know what that meant?
It had been subtler earlier when I was talking with Marvin, but whenever I was alone on the way to my next class, lining up for lunch in the cafeteria or even in the bathroom, people would approach me always—always—with something to say.
That’s probably why there are such things as secrets. Because they’re just better off untold and not hammering your brain every single second of the day. It was a wonder I could still remember most of them and yet couldn’t manage to memorize the terms for my history exam.
But right then my infernal memory block decided to grace me with its presence. I was stuck.
Normally, if I couldn’t remember a secret, I would just laugh and say, “That’s great!” or nod solemnly and add a vague comment depending on their facial expressions and the way they’d said it, whether it was something to be excited, worried or angry about, and then I’d swiftly slip out of what was going to be an awkward situation.
I obviously couldn’t do this right now.
I thought back to what she’d just said. She was either the one who came to me with a problem about her mother nagging at her for the smallest things and praising her siblings even when they’ve caused total destruction, or the other one who was best friends with the most popular girl at school and was convinced that her friend hated her and was plotting against her.
“Um,” I started. “I think you shouldn’t worry about it. She probably didn’t mean anything by it and did it not knowing it would hurt you.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped as she gaped incredulously at me. She looked like I’d just shot her mother in front of her eyes. “Seven,” she said, her anger boiling under the surface. “How can you say that my sister didn’t mean anything by it when she practically threw herself at my boyfriend and kissed him on the lips? And of course she knew it would hurt me—I was standing right in front of them!”
Oh, so Amanda was the one who had a love triangle with her sister! How could I forget that one?
“Uh, no, that’s not what I meant!” I told her quickly, waving my hands around as if I could somehow shoo away her anger at me for forgetting her dilemma. “What I was saying was that…maybe she didn’t mean to hurt you because…because…she’s so in love with your boyfriend that it blinded her from seeing that he’s already yours. Love is blind, right? I think it’s…it’s not only relating to the physical appearance of one person to another but also the consequences of their actions.”
Amanda paused, eyeing me warily, and then asked, “Really?”
“I’m not sure but it’s a possibility,” I said, shrugging. “You’re a reader like me, right, Amanda? So you’ve probably read romance novels with your very same situ
ation, but the difference is that your sister is the main character. Maybe—maybe—she thinks that she’s the exception, that perhaps in the end your boyfriend will suddenly realize that he loves her too. Just talk to her about it, make her understand your point while putting yourself in her shoes, too.”
Before Amanda could reply with anything to that, the teacher strode into the classroom and everybody settled into their seats. Amanda turned back to the front without saying a word to me. I could feel my sweat dripping as nervousness held me in its grasp.
I distracted myself by taking notes and glancing occasionally at the view outside the window. I could see another class jogging in the field, one of the students being a boy with red hair. He ran faster than the others, and as they asked him to wait up, his laughter boomed with freedom and joy.
I was watching him with a small smile on my lips when I felt something nudge my hand.
I looked down at my desk to find my second piece of passed note for the morning. I checked to see if the teacher was looking, and when I was sure he wasn’t, I unfolded the paper to see message within.
Sorry for exploding like that earlier. It’s just been really hard for me these days. Anyway, I think you might be right. I’ll talk to my sister tonight. Thanks, Seven – A
I turned to look at Amanda, who was already staring at me, waiting for my reaction. I smiled at her, reassuring her that it was alright, and nodded. Relieved, she grinned at me and returned to her own copied notes and idle doodles.
I closed my eyes and, with a sigh, rubbed my temples. This was going to be a long day.
***
Later, as I opened the door to my house and sauntered in, my phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans—again. This was for the eighth time all throughout the way home. Just as it was normal for people to practically lay their secrets at my feet, texting me their problems or calling me wasn’t out of the ordinary either. Most of the time I just chose to ignore it and make the excuse later that I didn’t notice it or didn’t get the message.
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