by Jo Cassidy
Daddy concluded that with Mrs. Roberts being so nosy, she’d certainly notice that I stayed home all day by myself while he went to work. So he called the high school and arranged everything. Plus, Daddy hadn’t been able to teach me anymore. He’d never graduated high school.
I’d been terrified and exhilarated at the prospect of going to school. So far, all had gone well. But as Daddy had once said, good things always came to an end.
My day went smoothly until I arrived in fourth period. My teacher assigned a project, picking our groups for us. We had to arrange our desks so we were all next to each other.
Sydney grunted as her thin frame moved her desk toward our group. She wouldn’t let go of her cell phone to do it. I tried not to stare at the rips and holes in her jeans. Daddy would be furious if I ever allowed my pants to get that way. Her shirt also seemed a couple sizes too big and hung past her bottom. Half of her long brown hair was up in a sloppy bun. Maybe her family didn’t have a lot of money.
"Are you new here?" Sydney asked, flopping down in her seat. She'd barely taken her eyes off her phone to ask me. But she did pause long enough to take in my long sleeved buttoned-up shirt and braid. She held her phone up toward me, her eyes narrowed in concentration before she relaxed as her fingers flew across the phone. I tugged on the braid, wishing Daddy liked my hair a different way.
"No," I said quietly.
Julien snatched Sydney's phone from her hands and threw it in her backpack. "No cell phones in class." He smiled at me, and it reached all the way up to his deep, brown eyes. Julien was a talker. He laughed and smiled more than anyone I’d ever known. He had a lightning design shaved into the side of his black hair. Another thing Daddy would hate. "And Cora's not new. Pay attention, Syd."
I couldn't believe he knew my name, or that I even existed. Maybe I didn't do as well at staying invisible as I thought.
"Whatever." Sydney slumped in her chair and folded her skinny arms.
The last one in our group was Dalton. His green eyes flickered toward me before his gaze landed on his desk. He wasn't much of a talker, either. His shoulder length brown hair had a wave to it and almost never looked brushed. A lot of the times it would cover his eyes, but he never seemed to care about that.
Julien stretched out his long legs, kicking over my backpack in the process. "Sorry about that, Cora." He grabbed it and set it upright.
Bending down, I reached for my backpack but stiffened when I noticed my journal inside. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. Or that I'd forgotten I'd placed it in there. I'd have to put it away the second I got home. If anyone knew I had one, I could get in big trouble with Daddy.
I glanced at Julien, but his attention was back on the teacher. I stuffed my journal into the very bottom of my backpack and zipped it closed.
During lunch, I snuck into the back of the library and found a corner on the floor. I made sure I was alone before I got my journal and finished my entry from the night before. For the sketch, I drew Daddy standing in the doorway, his thunderous eyes staring at the empty bed where he’d hoped to find his little girl.
When I finished, I wrote down everything that had happened in fourth period. I’d never risked bringing my journal to school before, but I found it nice to write in it with everything fresh in my mind.
The sound of the bell startled me so bad that my blue gel pen made a long, squiggly line down the page. I shoved my journal into the bottom of my backpack and booked it out of there.
I didn't stop thinking about having my journal with me until I arrived in sixth period. French. I sat next to Jenna. She had large round brown eyes that were always full of excitement. She loved life. So, the opposite of me. If I had the chance to be someone different, I’d want to be like Jenna. She wore bright colors and bold styles that matched her personality. I stared down at my bland shirt and pants. I guess my clothes matched my personality as well.
She’d opted for a lighter look today, with lavender skinny jeans and tennis shoes, and a peasant top. All her eye makeup, multiple earrings, and necklace were light purple as well. She usually chose a color and ran with it.
Her hair was usually braided, but unlike my plain style, she always did creative styles like the waterfall, lace, and feathered braids all throughout her hair. Today she’d made bows with her hair, and it looked amazing.
"Hey," Jenna said as I sat down in my seat. "Do I have anything in my braces?" She spread her lips apart, showing me the wire on her teeth.
"Nope." I set my backpack on the floor next to me but kept my hand wrapped around the top strap so it wouldn't fall over again.
I loved that Jenna never looked at me like my clothes and hair were different. She accepted me for who I was and talked to me like she would anyone else.
She rubbed her top brace with her finger, her many lavender bracelets clinking together at the movement. "Good. Jess Freeman was staring at me last period, so I thought maybe something was in my braces." She ran her tongue across her teeth. "But I guess she was just being her usual weird self."
A guy walked down the aisle between me and Jenna to get to his seat. She watched his back the whole way. When he was in his seat, Jenna leaned over.
"What do you think?" she whispered. "He's like a seven in my book. He's cute and smart, but he's missing a little spark, you know?" Her wide eyes searched mine with so much hope.
I couldn't help but smile. I threw out a number. "Maybe a six." The only guy allowed in my life was Daddy, so I never paid close attention to the ones at school. Daddy told me guys would cause bad feelings to take over my body and the thought terrified me.
She twisted her lips to the side as she stared at the guy. "Maybe. I’ve heard other students say mean things about him, but he’s real sweet once you get to know him. He’s just quiet at first." She wiggled her eyebrows at me. "This is so going in the journal tonight."
Jenna kept a journal like I did. She wrote in it every night as well. But I had a feeling our entries were nowhere near being the same. While she wrote about cute boys and troubles with braces, I wrote about being locked away and acting perfect so Daddy wouldn't hurt me.
I'd never tell Jenna what was in mine. I had no idea how she'd react. Daddy always said no one would understand our relationship and they would try to tear us apart, which I didn't want. Nothing scared me more than being alone.
"Any plans this weekend?" she asked.
"Nothing exciting," I said. "Chores, homework, and spending time with the family." She must have thought I had the most boring life. My answer was pretty much the same every week.
"I'm going to the movies with a few of my friends. Heather’s parents have been fighting, and she desperately needs to get out of the house and have some fun." She twirled a gel pen on her desk. "Not sure what we're going to see yet." She turned to me. "Wanna come?"
Her eyes held an unwavering eagerness that pulled at my heart strings. It suddenly hit me why Daddy didn't want me to have friends. Friends talked and shared everything with each other. They hung out and did fun stuff. Daddy didn't want that for me. He always said that friends would end up breaking my heart, but family would be forever.
"I really wish I could."
She frowned. "Next time, Cora. I'm not taking a no then." Her frown evaporated, and she pointed at a guy two seats over. "What about him?"
Next time I'd have to come up with yet another excuse. Maybe I needed to be less friendly with Jenna. But her personality made it difficult to ignore or be rude to her. Plus, I really liked the idea of having her as an actual friend. Even though I’d seen girls fight with their friends at school, I didn’t think Jenna capable of treating me like that.
As soon as the bell rang to end class, I hurried out and rushed to the van so Jenna wouldn’t try to talk to me again. I couldn’t risk Daddy catching us chatting like we were friends.
After Daddy dropped me off at home, I waited patiently in my room until he locked the outside of my bedroom door. He always picked me up, took me
home, and then went out on another appointment.
With a sigh, I took in my overly pink room. Daddy had decorated it when I first came home. I was six at the time. Any time I asked if we could update the room, he would get that storm cloud look in his blue-gray eyes. So, for the past nine years, it remained the same. Down to the pink dollhouse in the corner and the pink fuzzy shade perched atop a dress-shaped lamp.
Staying close to the edge, I watched out the window, waiting for Daddy's blue van to leave the driveway. Once he was out of sight, I counted to thirty to make sure he wouldn't come back. Then I undid the top button of my shirt and flipped my braid to the back. I kept my sleeves down since I wasn’t as warm as usual.
"Why do you do that every day?" Noah asked. “Watch and wait?”
I turned my attention to him. He was on the bed in his usual spot, leaning against two pink pillows in the shape of flowers. He looked so comfortable and relaxed.
"Just making sure he's really gone." The tension fluttered away when I had peaceful time to myself. No peers, no Daddy. Just me, Noah, and our wild imaginations. Well, Noah didn't have much of an imagination. In fact, neither did I. But we were free to be ourselves.
Grabbing my backpack from the floor, I smiled at Noah and then set my bag on the bed. "What should we do today, Noah? After I finish my homework, of course."
I zipped open my backpack.
"A game of cards, perhaps?" he suggested. Cards were a huge hit at our house. They were fun, easy, and cheap. Playing with Noah gave me chances to win for once.
"We did that yesterday," I said, rifling through my backpack. I felt the bottom of my bag, but nothing was there. Confused, I dumped everything out onto my bed. I shuffled through the binders and textbooks, searching frantically.
Fear knocked into me so hard it almost sent me to the ground.
My journal was gone.
Chapter 3
Letting out a long breath, I slammed my dresser drawer closed, rattling the ballerina figurines on top. "Who would do this?"
Every inch of my room had been searched. The rational part of me knew that it had to have gone missing at school, but the irrational part hoped that maybe it had fallen out of my backpack when I came home.
"Oh, Pandora-Cora." Noah sighed. "Maybe you misplaced it."
I glared at him. "I've searched everywhere. It's gone." Panic bubbled up inside. Losing it meant exposing my secret. If anyone found out . . . I smashed the panic down, squishing out the fire before it started. It could destroy everything in a matter of seconds.
Glancing at my backpack on my bed, I noticed Husky judging me with his huge eyes. I scowled, warning him not to get involved in the conversation. Thankfully, Husky was the silent type. I couldn't handle them both grilling me at once.
"I told you to never bring your journal to school," Noah said in a sing-song voice.
"I know!" Closing my eyes, I took slow, deep breaths. I couldn't lose control. "It was an accident."
"An accident." Noah grunted. "That shouldn't be considered an accident. It's just a journal. Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life?"
Running my fingers over my braid, I tugged on it and focused on my breathing. The life Daddy had built for me was the only way I knew how to live.
"Maybe it's time you made a friend," he said, his tone saturated with sarcasm to the point it practically oozed from his cotton.
My gaze snapped to his blue sparkly eyes. "You know I can't have friends. They'll ask questions and want to come over." I glanced at my white dresser with pink flower knobs. Each drawer had been labeled with a drawing of what went inside – socks, shirts, pants, or pajamas. The underwear drawer had been left blank.
Someone being in my room would definitely reveal a flaw in me.
"Just a thought," he said, his tone telling me to not be so touchy. "Now, what are you going to do about your missing journal?"
I sat cross-legged on the bed and closed the canopy curtain, the swish a comforting sound. Warmth and security embraced me, and I hugged it close. I breathed in my room, letting the smell of old books, lilac, and paper calm my soul.
"For starters, I need to find out who took it. Then I can decide what to do from there." Since I’d had it during lunch, it had to have been lost between fifth period and the end of the day. It all depended on who knew I had a journal. One that was worth taking.
"Maybe it just fell out. Is your name in it? No one will know it was yours."
“I wrote my name in the front and back.” My name shouldn’t have been in the journals. But if I had to remain under Daddy’s care until my last breath, I wanted someone out there to know my story. Know that I had once existed.
"Let’s just hope they see your name, turn it in, and don’t read it."
Taking him into my arms, I held on tight. I pushed my face into the back of his head, and then pulled back when I got a good whiff of sweat. It was thanks to me. My sleep was rarely peaceful, and I woke up most mornings covered in sweat. “Smells like you need another bath.”
“Yay!” His tone was beyond sarcastic. “Another dousing of air freshener. What will it be this time? Rain? Lilacs? Oh, is there a rustic smell we could try? Wood or something?”
I ruffled the fur on his head and then hugged him.
“Let’s say someone finds the journal,” I said, getting the conversation back on track. “They could turn it in to the front office. Someone in administration could read it. Or they could call the house to let me know they found it. Daddy would know about it then. There’s no positive outcome here. I need to be prepared for the worst.”
I'd never been so careless and reckless in my life.
"Can you ease up on the strangle hold?" Noah rasped. "I can barely breathe."
I loosened my grip around him, rolling my eyes in the process.
The door swung open. "What are you doing, angel?"
Daddy stood in the doorway, his arms folded and his back perfectly straight. He held his chin up in a way that let him command the room like he always did. It made him appear larger than he really was. It also took away the attention from his dirty coveralls.
I’d been so lost in thought, I hadn't heard him unlock the latch on my door. I held Noah in front of my chest with one hand and used the other to quickly fasten the top button of my shirt. I flicked my braid back up front. I’d never been so happy about leaving my sleeves down.
"You're home early," I said in the sweetest voice I could muster.
Noah grunted. "Oh, goody."
I placed my hand over his mouth, though it wouldn't stop his thoughts. But maybe it would warn him to stop talking so he wouldn't distract me.
Daddy opened the canopy, the swish slashing through my comfort. "My last appointment cancelled. I thought we could go out to dinner tonight."
My eyes widened, and I tried to hold back the smile that wanted to explode across my face. We rarely went out to dinner. We rarely went anywhere. "Can we go to the pizza place downtown?" I’d heard students raving about it at school.
A dark mist clouded Daddy's eyes. "Cora, is that the appropriate response to my invitation?"
The thought of my journal being stolen, our secret being revealed, had left me unfocused. I quickly stood and hugged him, letting Noah fall to the floor. Noah grunted when he landed on the carpet. If Daddy hadn't been in the room, I would have apologized.
Daddy's scent attacked me. Sweat and grease once again, but not as bad as the day before.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I got overly excited. If you think going out would be a good idea, then I would love to accompany you wherever you'd like to go."
He ran his hand down my braid. "That's my good girl." He kissed the top of my head, lingering a second longer than usual. "Pizza does sound good, though."
A smile spread across my face. "Thanks, Daddy!"
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Anything to see that beautiful smile of yours. Be in the entryway in twenty minutes. Make sure you use the bathroom before w
e go." He held up a finger. "And bring a light jacket with you. There's a small chill in the air."
My long sleeve shirt should have been enough, but I would never argue that with him. I waited for Daddy to disappear down the hall. Picking up Noah from the floor, I gave him a quick peck on his trunk and set him back on the bed. "We'll continue this conversation later."
"Looking forward to it," Noah said. "Just don't keep me up all night. I hate pillow talk."
Daddy drove away from our house and toward downtown.
I loved to stare out the window and watch the homes pass by, pretending like I knew who lived inside. In my head, they were all happy and perfect families with two parents, a couple kids, a dog, cat, and maybe even a hamster.
It was a nice suburban area, with all the brick homes blending well together. I wished I could’ve gone on walks after school while Daddy was at work so I could smell the crabapple trees and geraniums planted in people’s yards. Daddy left our yard as clean and plain as possible. Would he ever let me plant flowers outside? What would the dirt feel like in my hands?
"How was your day?" Daddy asked. He'd turned off the radio so we could have ‘Cora time’ as he called it. The questions rarely changed.
"It was great,” I said, moving my attention to him. If Daddy found out about my lost journal, or that I even had a journal, I'd be in timeout for weeks. Maybe months. I couldn't afford to miss that much school. Plus, it was cold in the basement.
We turned onto the main road leading toward the shopping areas. The lanes expanded and Daddy stayed in the right lane and drove slowly, both hands gripped tightly around the wheel. He always said the world would still be there when we arrived, so there was no need to rush.
"How are your classes going?"
"Good. I really like my teachers." My answers rarely changed, either.