I blinked, confused. What did he mean? I looked down at his hands. They looked clean enough.
Behind him, the door to the boys’ bathroom swung open and a guy squeezed out, shaking his wet hands to dry them off. My eyes went wide. Colin was in the boys’ bathroom for a considerably long time. He probably went to—
I released his hands quickly as if they’d burnt me and held out my own in disgust. Before I could say anything else, Colin burst out laughing. He bent over, clutching his stomach, and said in between barks of laughter, “You—I can’t believe you actually bought that! Oh, man! Of course I washed my hands!”
I blushed from embarrassment at how easily I’d been fooled and blushed even more each time his laugh became louder. “Shut up. It’s not funny!” I said weakly.
Colin’s laughter died down to a few chuckles and he wiped his eye with a finger. “You just don’t find it funny,” he said matter-of-factly with a smirk, “because you’re the butt of the joke.”
A scowl I didn’t know I could muster started to appear on my face as I glared at Colin. “Just give it back already!” I said, fisting my hands at my sides. “Or—or else—”
“Or else what?” he asked, crossing his arms. From the look in his eyes, you could tell that he knew I had nothing to bait him. I hated it. “What can you do, Seven?”
Nothing, I thought, but immediately pushed it away. Gritting my teeth, I murmured, “You just wait and see, Colin.” And then I turned on my heel and walked away.
“Okay, I’ll wait,” he called after me, “but I don’t think I’ll be seeing anything.”
Jerk, I thought as I sat in English Lit, fuming as I prepared how to launch the other plans I had in mind. I may have failed that day, but that was why there was a tomorrow. And I wasn’t going to stop trying until I had the black notebook safely in my hands.
Entry 4: Plan B - Ninja Style
Date: March 12, 2013
“Your mother tells me that you’ve been very busy lately,” my dad said the next morning over breakfast. It was one of those rare mornings when he didn’t have to rush to the office and I could still catch up with him to chat.
My mom, as always, had prepared a delicious meal for our breakfast that morning: waffles and scrambled eggs with bacon strips at the side. I scarfed the eggs and drowned my waffles in syrup, leaving the bacon strips for the last. I looked up at my dad after shoving a spoonful of egg in my mouth.
My dad was also dark haired like my mom and me, but his was a shade closer to brown. He had hazel eyes; when I was younger and he’d let me sit on his lap, I loved staring into them and looking out for the green and gold flecks. When I was a little older, my mom told me that when they were still dating she loved doing the same thing.
“They’re just so fascinating,” she’d said dreamily while I rolled my eyes and simply smiled.
Now I asked, “What do you mean?”
My dad sliced his waffle with a silver knife. The sun coming through the open windows made the steel glint and I blinked as he said, “Well, she said that when you came home last Friday, you trudged up to your room and only left it for meals. I mean, that isn’t exactly unusual since you’re always reading, but yesterday she said that she found you asleep on your desk. What were you doing?”
I swallowed down the food in my mouth before saying, “It’s nothing, Dad.” I smiled up at him, trying to reassure him that, no, I wasn’t planning the possible destruction of another human being by the name of Colin Stillman because he had something that was very important to me.
He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word I said. Despite being the parent who was rarely at home, my dad still knew me so well. “You’ll talk to us if there’s a problem, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course,” I said, nodding, and then quickly looked down at my plate, pretending that I was engaged in slicing my own waffle, “You don’t need to worry, Dad.”
“Alright,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “I won’t then.” He reached for his napkin and wiped his mouth with it. He pushed his chair out and took his plate, bringing it to the sink along with the still steaming pan and other used plates. He placed a gentle hand on the small of Mom’s back and kissed her. “I’ll go now, honey. Goodbye.”
“Bye. Take care,” she said, smiling at him.
As my dad slipped on his coat, he walked back to me and kissed the crown of my head. “See you later, kiddo.”
“Bye, Dad,” I said, biting the first of my bacon strips. I watched him grab his briefcase and step out of the front door, his right hand raised in a wave. After a while, I heard the engine of a car start and then wheels were crunching gravel. The sounds grew soft until there was no more.
“You should get going too, Seven,” my mom said as she came back to the dining table with her second mug of coffee. She stirred the contents with a spoon as I quickly shoved the rest of the bacon strips into my mouth and licked my lips
“Okay,” I mumbled with a full mouth before gulping down my juice. I slipped my backpack on and kissed her on the cheek. “Bye, Mom,” I said.
“Bye, baby,” she replied, taking a sip from her coffee. I made my way out of the house and into the cold outside. I shakily pulled my sweater sleeves over my hands as I walked around the little crack in the cement in front of our house. School was usually just a five to ten minute walk and I didn’t want to use my money taking the bus, unless absolutely necessary.
Our house was situated in a tiny neighborhood where all the houses looked the same and you could only tell the difference by the number on the brass plate adhered on the identical mailboxes outside the white picket fence. We were number 8 out of the ten houses and just thirty or so paces away, in house number 3, was my uncle from my dad’s side and his big family of five children; three boys: Nate, Nick and Neil; and two girls: April and May.
They were the closest relatives I had since my dad’s other brother had no children and was an archaeologist in Africa and my mom’s older sister had died at a young age because of cancer. Since I was an only child, I considered my cousins like my own siblings.
As I passed by their house, I could hear roaring laughter, screams of names I knew, and the sounds of running feet. My relatives were boisterous and sometimes their neighbor, Mr. Swan, would complain about it, but they were always an admittedly great company to be with. You could never be with them and not laugh.
I hurried past until I was out of the neighborhood and turning around the corner. After three more blocks, I was already at the front gates of my school. People were already there, talking while scattered on the grass under the shade of a tree or on the front steps of the main building.
I walked down the strip of road that led to the entrance, alone, and looked around. Several people waved and greeted me a good morning, others came over to whisper another secret that I most probably wouldn’t remember afterward.
Just as a boy named Jeremy left my side after telling me about something he’d overheard at a party, I turned and immediately spotted Colin. It was as if my eyes were already used to looking for him in a crowded room from glancing secretly in the halls and classrooms.
He was, as per usual, surrounded by tons of people. He was telling a story to them animatedly, his hands waving around in exaggerated gestures. As they laughed at something he said, he looked up and his eyes met mine.
I kept my face expressionless and perfectly relaxed as he smiled at me. He raised his hands, as if welcoming me, and mouthed, Come and get me.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t even glare—I simply maintained the same aloof look before swiftly looking away as I entered the double doors of the school. Leave him to guess what I was up to.
I went over to my locker and took the books I needed before quickly heading to my first class. I wasn’t going to follow him around that morning like some lost puppy.
My schedule for that day allowed me to see him three times; we had calculus
for two periods straight and AP Psychology in the afternoon.
This time, I was going to be patient. As the classes I had without him began, I paid attention to the teacher, took notes, answered questions, and listened to secrets, trying to show to the world that I was calm, cool, collected. When our first calculus class came around, I was ready.
I walked in to the room and surprisingly Colin was sitting on his seat, alone.
When I came in, he looked up and flashed me a smile. “I can’t say I’m not surprised that you didn’t attack me first thing this morning,” he said, craning his neck at me as I continued walking and took my seat behind him. He twisted around in his seat and propped his chin on his hand. “So what are you planning today, Seven?”
“What makes you think I have any plans?” I asked, smiling innocently.
“Clever,” he commented and then said, “but you’re still not going to get the black notebook back.”
“Don’t be so sure, Colin,” I said, bringing out a novel I was in the middle of reading and opening it. He watched me with confused and curious eyes before chuckling and turning away, facing back to the front.
Almost immediately my eyes looked up at the back of his head, making sure he wouldn’t be able to see any movements I made.
I glanced down at his backpack, which he’d mistakenly and fortunately hung on his chair at an angle that was perfectly within my reach.
Mr. White soon entered the room with an announcement of an exercise and made us bring out a piece of paper and answer the set of problems he’d prepared.
I was thankful for the fact that I liked math and had studied last night for what I hadn’t been listening to yesterday because, in a matter of twenty-four minutes, I was done with all the problems. Everyone else was hunched over their papers, scratching their heads in frustration and occasionally looking for some inspiration from their neighbors’ answers.
Colin was nervously tapping his pen against his desk. It seemed he had no idea what to do with the numbers and symbols staring back at him either.
I looked up at Mr. White to see him reading a newspaper, his eyes occasionally darting around to check for any cheaters. When he looked back down, I quickly reached for Colin’s backpack, my fingers seizing the zipper and carefully pulling it open.
Suddenly Colin leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat. I retracted my hand immediately, just as the creaking of Colin’s chair alerted Mr. White to look up. I bowed my head, pretending to be busy in solving math problems, and after a few seconds glanced back up again. Mr. White had returned to his newspaper.
The bag was left hanging open and I slowly slipped my hand inside, fumbling around the objects I was touching. I felt something hard, which I presumed was a book or notebook, but it was too big to be the one I was looking for. I moved my hand to the right and grazed something slippery, like plastic. It was probably a snack.
Where was it? I wondered irritably, my eyes watching out for both Colin’s and Mr. White’s movements. I reached down deeper, the bag swallowing my arm almost up to the elbow, and felt something rough, like cloth, with several other things in it—a pencil case?
Besides his phone, keys, and a few empty wrappers, I didn’t find anything else. Could it be that he didn’t have the black notebook in his bag?
I swept a glance over his clothes, a white V-neck and dark blue sweatshirt under a black jacket matched with dark jeans. I like what he’s wearing, I thought dreamily, just before I spotted the top of a black notebook peeking out of his jacket pocket.
I pulled my chair closer to my desk, trying to do it as quietly as I could. Mr. White was still reading his article. I leaned over my desk. Mr. White chuckled over a funny picture.
I extended my arm—my fingers were just inches away—when Colin suddenly turned around.
I immediately dropped back to my seat, unable to control its screeching against the floor. Mr. White’s head snapped up at me just as I bit my pen and furrowed my eyebrows, looking frustrated at my paper that was already full of answers.
His eyes lingered on me as Colin grabbed his bag and retrieved a protractor, stuffing the black notebook inside in the process. That would’ve been fine with me, if he hadn’t hung the bag on the seat in front of him. Mr. White looked back down at his newspaper and flipped a page.
I mentally groaned. The next hour of calculus was pretty much useless by then. I would have to wait until psychology.
***
By that afternoon, I was disappointed to admit that I’d failed in stealing back my black notebook.
The bell rang, ending psychology and my chances of getting it back. I watched with longing as Colin swung his backpack over his shoulder and got up from his seat.
His friend was saying excitedly, “Come on, man! I heard that coach is going to let us play basketball today. If we get to the gym a little earlier, we can change and shoot some hoops before the others arrive.”
“I’m so going to wipe your butt across the gym floor for all the girls to see,” Colin said arrogantly, wagging his eyebrows.
“No way!” his friend replied, indignant. “Race you there?” And then, like little boys, they took off running.
So Colin’s next class was P.E. Surely, if they were going to play a game they’d leave their bags in the locker rooms, along with their clothes. My next class was bio, and since I knew we weren’t going to have any tests or new lessons, just further reviewing for those who were still unprepared for the test that upcoming Friday, I decided on resuming plan B, but with different tactics.
I got up from my seat and was met at the door by a girl named Amy. “Hi, Seven,” she said to me and I smiled at her. “Hello.”
“Okay, I know this may be a little weird for you since we’re not that close—it is for me—but I’ve heard many people say that you’re a great confidant,” she said in one breath and I liked that she was frank with me, instead of pretending to be best of friends like other people did.
“Oh, no, it’s alright,” I said, beaming at her. “So what’s up?”
“Well, the thing is…my friends think that I don’t like anybody,” she blurted, avoiding my eyes and fiddling with her fingernail.
“But you do,” I stated for her and she nodded shyly. She looked wary of telling me anything. “If you don’t want to tell me who it is either it’s okay,” I said quickly.
Amy smiled sheepishly and tucked her hair behind her ear. “To tell you the truth,” she said in a low voice as we walked down the hall, “I think I can trust you more than I can trust my friends. They’re always joking around about who they like and although I know that they’re just joking around, it still could cause a fuss, which I don’t want.”
“I see your point,” I said, nodding in understanding. “And I’m glad to hear that you trust me.”
She grinned and then said, “Okay, so we have geometry together, right? I’m seated diagonally from you, I think.”
“Right,” I said, picturing my usual view from my seat in the classroom. Amy was seated a row before mine to my left.
“Well…can you remember the guy who’s seated beside me, on my right side?”
I thought back to the seating plan and the face of a boy named Timothy appeared in my head. “Oh, you mean Timothy?” I whispered, bending down a little since she was shorter.
“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. I could see the faint blush across her cheeks just at the mention of him. Man, this girl was in love. But I definitely didn’t expect it to be Timothy. He was an alright kind of guy, tall and slender, in the student council, but not much of a looker. I supposed the feelings had developed over time.
“Have you talked to him?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’ve chatted a few times in class and greeted each other in the halls or the cafeteria,” she said, reminiscing the moments she’d treasured in her heart, “but nothing deeply personal or anything like that. I’m thinking of asking for his number some time.�
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I thought over what advice I could offer to her and chose to say, “Well, I haven’t heard anything about him besides what most people know, but I suggest that you keep it subtle. I mean, you never know what he’d think if you ask for his number all of a sudden.”
“But I don’t think he’ll be asking for my number any time soon,” she said, the disappointment in her voice showing.
“Okay,” I said slowly, “if that’s your point, then at least find an opportunity where you happen to talk about cell phones or text messages, or where you have to ask for it. Make it seem like you’re doing it because you’re friends, and not because you want to get to know him that way.”
“Alright,” she said, thinking it over, “I’ll see what I can do. Thanks, Seven.” She grinned at me. “I don’t think I need to tell you to keep it a secret, right?”
“My lips are sealed,” I said, winking at her. We separated, heading to our respective classes. Once I was in bio I saw the teacher already seated inside, talking to someone in the front row. I walked over to my seat and casually looked out the window. The field was empty, but Colin’s class was probably in the gymnasium.
I squinted at the gym’s entrance, which seemed tiny from the distance, and I could make out people entering. I would have to wait until everyone was done changing and the locker rooms were empty.
Bio started in a few minutes and, as the teacher repeatedly explained a term that the others couldn’t understand, I wrapped my arms around my stomach, beginning my acting. I scrunched up my face, trying to show to the people around me that I was in pain. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I glanced outside and saw that nobody was walking into the gymnasium anymore.
I tentatively and shakily raised a hand. The teacher looked over at me and asked, “Yes, Seven? Do you have a question?”
I stood up from my seat and walked over to her. I asked quietly, “Can I go to the nurse’s office, Miss? My stomach doesn’t feel so good.”
“Oh, sure, Seven,” she immediately said, her hands gently touching my shoulders. She gestured the door to me and I headed out of it, hunching over just a little bit more. When the door had closed behind me, and I was all alone in the hallway, I ran.
The Black Notebook Page 5