Entry 19: All Good Things Come To an End

Date: April 11, 2013

The next day at school almost everyone was talking about the upcoming prom. Even as early as now, guys were already asking for dates and girls were getting ready with their best prom dress designs. Posters were being put up on the walls, displaying pictures of prom queen and king candidates.

“Do you already have a dress in mind?” Amy asked me as we walked down the hallway and to our next class. We passed by a group of girls taping a couple more posters on some lockers. One of them handed us fliers with a picture of a cheerleader winking and giving a thumbs-up. Below, in bold pink letters, it said, “Vote for Jenny!”

“Not really,” I answered honestly, once we’d left those girls behind us. “I’d always pictured that perfect dress, but I’d never get the right one…”

The truth was, I just hadn’t had the time to think of anything else besides the black notebook for the past month.

Ever since I entered high school, I always looked forward to proms. Each year I’d hoped Colin would notice me and miraculously ask me to go with him, but I always ended up sitting at the sidelines with a guy friend who didn’t have anyone else better to go with, watching Colin on the dance floor with some gorgeous girl in a beautiful gown.

I wasn’t expecting anything all that different this year.

At least you got to dance with him at that concert, I told myself reassuringly.

“I’m thinking of an ocean blue color,” Nicole, one of Amy’s closest friends, said, eyes glued to the ceiling as she pictured her dream dress. I didn’t hang out with her that often, but she too shared some dirty little secrets with me. “Not just one solid color, but different shades of blue all together.”

“That would go well with those silver heels you just bought!” Amy exclaimed, excitement clear in her voice.

“You’re right,” Nicole said, nodding in satisfaction. “Perfect! Now all I need is a date to prom.”

“I know,” Amy agreed, pouting. “Prom is still a month away, but most of the girls I know have already been asked!”

Nicole turned to her with a knowing smile. “Do you have any guys you’d want asking you in mind?”

Amy hesitated, cutting a quick glance to my direction. She shrugged. “No one in particular,” she said, but I knew she wanted Tim to ask her. I decided to help her a little.

“You can just go with a friend, you know,” I said. “Why not just go with that boy you sit beside in Geom? His name’s Timothy, right?”

“Oh, right, Tim,” she said, trying not to blush. “I almost forgot about him.”

Nicole laughed, tossing her blonde hair back. “Good luck with that,” she said. “It seems like he’s not interested in asking anyone to prom.”

“Really?” Amy asked, shocked. Her eyes fell to the floor. “W-Well, I have plenty other guy friends so…” She did her best to act nonchalant, but I could see chips in that armor she was wearing—the corner of her lips turning down in a frown, the nervous cracking of her knuckles.

“What about you, Seven?” Nicole asked, grinning. “Are you going with Colin Stillman?”

I blinked rapidly at her, my heart thundering in panic. “W-What? Why would I go with Colin?”

“Oh, come on,” she said teasingly. “It’s so obvious you guys are together.”

Uh-oh. “We’re not exactly…together…” I had no idea what Colin and I were. I always thought we were sort of friends now, but friends definitely do not kiss each other. I was just groping for a rational answer in my mind when I looked up and—speak of the devil—spotted a familiar redhead some distance away.

Colin was surrounded by his friends, as per usual, but, the moment he caught me looking his way, he smiled.

Hi, he mouthed at me, waving. I shyly waved back.

Even from afar, I could see his friends snickering, nudging him at the side with their elbows and pushing him around. He turned back and gestured for them to shut up, but it was clear he was laughing. I couldn’t help laughing as well.

When Colin and his group had moved on, Nicole turned to me with a smug look. “That was so adorable. It’s impossible you guys don’t have a thing for each other,” she said matter-of-factly. “You cannot convince me otherwise now.”

“Whatever you say, Nicole,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.

“Okay, this is me,” Amy said, extracting herself from us and heading towards the history classroom.

“See you later!” Nicole called after her as she and I went over to English Lit. The bell rang just as we entered the room.

***

The next four hours were uneventful. I spent most of my time doodling at the corners of my notebook, writing lyrics of love songs, and wondering if Colin would ask me to prom. So when I left in the middle of bio, my last class for the day, to have a quick stop at the bathroom, I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen.

I sidestepped to let two girls exit the bathroom before ducking inside. I started towards one of the cubicles, thinking distractedly about the day I disguised myself under a black sweatshirt and embarrassed myself in front of the whole student body with a plate of spaghetti. It felt like it had happened years ago.

I pushed the door open and then I heard a sob.

I halted, mid-stride, and retraced my steps to peer at the other doors. Only one other cubicle was occupied. I edged toward it carefully, making sure I didn’t make any sudden noises.

I pressed my ear to the door and listened. The girl inside blew her nose and muttered, “Why…?”

Although her voice was slightly altered by her clogged nose and hoarse throat, it sounded extremely familiar.

“Amy?” I tested out the name. The girl immediately stopped sniffling. “Who’s there?” she croaked.

“Amy, it’s Seven,” I said, knocking on her door. “Open up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Amy,” I said. “Come on.”

“I said leave me alone,” she said stubbornly.

“Amy, I’m not leaving until you open this door and tell me what’s wrong.”

She didn’t respond right after that. She left me in silence for a few minutes and then let out a small cry before I heard the lock click in place. The door swung outward and I tentatively stepped inside.

Amy sat on the closed lid of the toilet, crumpled tissues piled up on her lap. Her nose was bright red and so were her eyes. Tears ran freely down her face, ruining her mascara.

“Oh, Amy,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of her so that I was at her eye level. “What happened?”

She wept, scrubbing her cheeks with the tissue. “Tim…he…” she started to say, and then broke into a sob.

“Shh,” I said, patting her knee. “It’s okay. It’s okay. What about Tim?”

“He…he found out,” she blurted, two big teardrops falling out from under her long lashes.

I furrowed my eyebrows at her. “He found out about what?”

“He knows, Seven,” she said exasperatedly, pulling out another tissue from her purse. “He knows I like him…and…and…”

“And? And then what?” I insisted.

“And he…he outright told me he doesn’t like me back,” she cried, clutching the tissue so tightly her knuckles were turning chalk-white. “I tried to…act cool about it but…” She gasped, taking quick, short breaths.

I reached over and rubbed her back, trying to soothe away the tension there. I watched as another tear fell. “Now…now he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. He wouldn’t even look at me,” she said, covering her face with both hands. “Why?” she asked, almost yelling, “I tried to hide it from him…I made sure nobody s-suspected anything…”

“Amy,” I said, trying and failing to mitigate the pain. “Maybe…maybe he’s just really sharp in sensing these kinds of things…or maybe his friends noticed something even you didn’t notice.”

But she wasn’t listening. She rambled on, “My friends don’t even know…I didn’t tell anyone else…”

“Amy,” I said sternly. “Amy, look at me.” I grabbed her by the shoulders and made her lift her eyes to me. “You’re going to get through this, okay?”

“But—”

“Listen,” I said, cutting her off. “This—Tim—is just temporary. You’re a junior. You’ve got one more year of high school to go and then there’s college too. You’ll meet plenty of other boys, you’ll experience more heartbreak, more chances at love, and then you’ll look back at this day and laugh it off with your future, mega-hot boyfriend.”

She couldn’t seem to stop crying, but at least I’d made her smile, which was a good thing. Amy hiccupped, her shoulders rising abruptly. “Y-You seem to know a lot about it.”

I laughed a bitter laugh and shook my head. “I guess you could say…I’m going through something similar right now. And I’m just saying the things I wish someone else would say to me.”

She sniffed, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “But doesn’t…doesn’t knowing all of this help? Why do you need someone else to tell you what you already know?”

I opened my mouth to answer and then quickly closed it. After a while, I finally said, “Sometimes your heart just can’t easily accept what your mind can. You know something’s wrong and yet your heart still dares to beg otherwise.”

Like even when I already know it’s hopeless for Colin and me, I still dare to hope, I thought sadly.

Amy shuffled her feet awkwardly, not knowing what to say. She wiped her nose one more time and threw the tissue into the trashcan.

“Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat, “we need to get back to class.” I got up to my feet, dusting off some dirt on my knees, but Amy remained seated. She bowed her head. “My class is with Tim…I-I don’t want to face him…”

“You can’t always run away like this,” I said. “You’ll have to face it sooner or later. Better now than never.”

“Hey, that rhymes,” she said weakly, chuckling. I laughed, trying to make light of the situation, but then her smile faded away and she swallowed, biting her lip. We were soon plunged into awkwardness.

At last, she said, “You’re right,” with a sigh. “I’m sorry…I’ll…I’ll catch up. I just need to freshen up.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding. I turned on my heel and was about to leave, but I looked back at her over my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, Amy. Everything will be alright.”

She nodded and hastily dabbed her eyes with another tissue. Her eyes were starting to look swollen.

I left her sitting there, gathering herself, and went back to bio. As I slid back in my seat though, one thing still bothered me: how did Timothy find out?

Amy said she did her best to cover her feelings up, and I believed her. I saw how she reacted, how she controlled herself a while ago with Nicole. She may have had a couple of slips here and there, but Nicole didn’t seem to notice a thing. None of her friends did.

My friends don’t even know…she’d said. I didn’t tell anyone else…

I didn’t tell anyone else…

My eyes widened in realization. Amy didn’t tell anyone else but me about her infatuation with Timothy because she couldn’t even trust her friends. And I probably wrote her secret in the black notebook, which was with…

“Colin,” I whispered, feeling my stomach drop to the floor.

Of course! It must’ve been him. No doubt he knew all the secrets contained within by now. It had been with him for too long already.

I tightened my hands into fists. This was my fault too. I’d allowed this to happen, I’d allowed his charms to distract me from getting it back. If I had resisted, if I had convinced myself harder that Colin wasn’t as good as I thought he was, if only I’d realized sooner that he couldn’t be trusted with anything, then maybe Amy wouldn’t be sitting in a cubicle in the girls’ bathroom, crying her eyes out in misery.

Maybe her friendship with Timothy could’ve lasted longer and she could actually have had a chance with him. She could have had her happy ending.

I’d become complacent and now look at what had happened. Who knew what other secrets Colin had spilled?

I closed my eyes briefly and let out a deep but shaky breath. I trusted him. I loved him, foolishly thinking that he wouldn’t do anything with the secrets inside because he was a good guy.

I obviously didn’t know him well enough.

***

When bio finally ended, Colin was standing by his locker, alone.

I didn’t think twice. I marched up towards him, my blood boiling just at the thought of what he’d done, and demanded, “Give me back the notebook, Colin.”

“Nice to see you too,” he said, laughing. He slammed his locker shut and turned to me, grinning, but when he got a good look at my pissed-off expression, his smile dissipated. “Seven? Hey, what’s—” Colin reached out to cup my cheek but I swatted his gentle hand away.

His green eyes widened in shock. I thought I saw something in them seem to break, but I refused to believe his heart was breaking just because of that. “Did I do something wrong?”

“How dare you even ask,” I said, seething. “How dare you pretend like nothing’s wrong when you’re ruining someone else’s life as we speak!”

“Whoa, hey,” he said, raising his hands as if to touch me again, but I flinched away, watching him like he was a rabid animal on the loose. He noticed my look and dropped his hands. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How about this: Amy and Timothy?” I asked, scowling. “Ring any bells?”

Colin stared at me blankly. “Am I supposed to know them? I mean, I know Timothy—he’s in the student council—but I don’t know who Amy is.”

“You may not know her personally, but I know you’ve read her name in my notebook,” I said, pointing accusingly at him. “And I know you spread her secret!”

“What?” he asked incredulously. “What on earth are you talking about?”

I groaned angrily, stomping my foot in frustration. “Stop lying already!” I said. “You know Amy likes Timothy and you know she’s been trying to keep it a secret. I wrote it in that stupid black notebook you stole and now Timothy’s found out about it and he rejected her. He won’t even look at her, and it’s all because you just wanted to have some fun—”

“Alright, first of all,” Colin said, raising his voice over mine, “whether or not her secret came out, Timothy would’ve rejected her anyway. This Amy you’re talking about should be glad she found out about it before she started to hope for anything else. Secondly, I’m not—” He was about to say more, but I didn’t let him finish.

I slapped him across the face.

He stumbled back and touched his cheek where a red imprint of my hand was blooming. Part of me expected him to react, to ask why I did it, but shock paralyzed him. In fact, he looked more shocked—and hurt—with the fact that I’d slapped him, rather than the actual physical pain.

“That wasn’t your call to make!” I screamed at him, my vision swimming with tears. “You should’ve left them alone! They are not toys you can just play with like that!”

Now everyone was watching us. All noise and chatter died down and they turned their heads to see what was going on.

“This is too much,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t want to cry in front of Colin and I definitely didn’t want everyone else to see me breaking down, but I couldn’t help it. I was so, so tired of this. “I endured it when you kept spinning me in circles and making fun of me. I endured it and accepted it…but now you’ve involved someone else in your little game. How can you be like this? I know—I know you’re carefree and you don’t take anything seriously, but you have got to know when to stop.”

“Seven…” he began to say, but I shook my head at him and turned away. I didn’t want to hear any more petty excuses. I walked away, parting the crowd that had engulfed us, and left Colin, the school, and everything else behind.

I didn’t look back.

***

I pushed the door to The Book Station open with a sigh and welcomed the familiar smell of books, the warmth of the lamp hanging right above the door and the peaceful sound of pages slowly being turned.

Most of the walk back home from school was a blur. My feet had taken me through streets and across roads by muscle memory, while my thoughts and heart roared with anger, frustration, and hurt at Colin.

The image of him standing before me with confused eyes and his pink lips in a frown, his hand pressed to his cheek, was still quite fresh in my mind, and now that I’d had some time to think, my stand against him was starting to crumble.

He deserved it, I told myself, hoping I could somehow convince that small shard of regret embedded in me to disappear. He deserved it. Don’t fall for his tricks again. Don’t fall for him.

As I shrugged off my jacket, I felt my phone vibrate long enough for me to know it was an incoming call. I pulled it out of my pocket, but didn’t look at the screen. I already knew who was calling. He’d been calling since I left school.

I held my phone in my hand, waiting, until it just stopped buzzing. I sighed and slipped it back in my pocket before heading over to the counter, where Francesca was standing.

“Hi there, Seven,” she said, sending a smile my way. Her wavy brown hair was tied up today in a bun, a few strands hanging elegantly by the side of her face. “Here to borrow another book?”

“No,” I croaked, my voice sounding raspy. I cleared my throat. “Just going to hang out for a while…” I trailed off, looking around the place. There were fewer customers today. I found Danny messing around with Alfred by the stairs. “Where’s Patrick?” I asked.

Francesca’s smile faltered and she hesitated, glancing towards the shelves. “He’s…not really doing well.”

“Why?” I asked, alarmed. “Is he okay?”

She pursed her lips, unsure of what to say. “I think,” she said, “it’ll be better if you ask him yourself.” She gestured towards a section of The Book Station that held the religion books. Rarely anyone went there.

I nodded my thanks and went over to those particular shelves, craning my neck to peek through the small spaces between books.

Patrick was sitting on the cold floor, his glasses in one hand while the other covered almost half of his face. He must’ve heard my boots clicking against the floorboards, but he didn’t show it.

“Patrick?” I slowly drew closer towards him, reluctant to make any sudden movements.

He jumped a little in surprise. “Seven,” he said, removing his hand from his face. He didn’t look at me, but a lamp behind me made his glassy eyes shine. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He didn’t sound okay at all. “It’s just…they didn’t come.”

“Who?” I asked, crouching down in front of him.

“My parents,” he said, his eyes averted. “Remember I told you and your mother that they wanted to meet up with me? I even invited them to see this place that I’ve built.” He raised his hand to indicate The Book Station, only to drop back down to his lap, limp. “Well, they cancelled.”

I thought back to three days ago when he’d told us about it. He’d been so excited. Now he looked like those broken, useless things we hide in boxes at the back of our closets, just waiting for dust to pile up.

I felt my heart breaking for the second time that day from seeing Patrick like that. He was always so optimistic, so cheerful; he was my inspiration. But now he was brought down so low that I didn’t know what to do to pull him back up on his feet.

“Maybe they’re just busy,” I reasoned half-heartedly.

He snorted, shaking his head. “That’s exactly what they said. They also said maybe they could come next time, but I know there won’t be a next time.” He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his place. “Now that I think about it, I don’t understand why I even bothered in the first place,” he said quietly. “It would take a miracle for them to want to see me again.”

I wanted to tell him not to think that way, to think positively, but I couldn’t, because then I would be lying to myself. Even I couldn’t come up with a single silver lining for my own disappointments, much less his.

“What did I expect?” I heard him whisper to himself, forgetting for a moment that I was there.

You expected them to come through, I thought to myself, just like I expected Colin to come through and be any different than he was before. But your parents didn’t and he didn’t, and now we’re both drowning in regret and heartache.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Seven,” Patrick said, and I looked back up at him. He was covering his face again. “Just go home.”

I should’ve argued to stay, to comfort him while he was going through a tough time. A good friend would’ve done that. The Seven Warrilow who kept everyone’s secrets safe would’ve done that.

But this Seven Warrilow had had enough.

So I ended up saying, “Okay,” and made a hasty exit out of the building.

***

Date: April 12, 2013

At the age of five or six, I dreamed of becoming an actress. I spent most of my hours running a marathon of movies on the TV, admiring how the actresses could shift from one emotion to another like they were merely shuffling a deck of cards.

Although, as the years passed, I gave up on that dream. One of the reasons was that it wasn’t as easy as it had seemed. You have to memorize tons of lines, you have to go to interviews and say words you don’t really mean, and sometimes, when your contract forces you to, you have do things you aren’t comfortable with.

The other was the paparazzi—the endless stalking, questions, cameras flashing at every move—there wasn’t any privacy for your personal life. Everybody knew everything about you. I just couldn’t take that.

So take that fun little fact you now know about me and imagine what I felt the next morning when almost everyone I knew confronted me with a sympathizing look and a question: “Hey, what happened between you and Colin Stillman yesterday?”

Suffocating.

That much attention was a foreign object—overwhelming—to me, but I survived half a day of it. I managed to dodge them in the halls with a shake of my head or simply pretending I couldn’t hear them. During classes, I would turn a blind eye to their paper conversations, and if I had to, I fed them false assurances like, “It was nothing”.

Lunch was an entirely different subject, however.

“It obviously wasn’t ‘nothing’, Seven!” Nicole attempted to whisper, but emotion filled her voice to the point of bursting and I could tell that the other table could hear us very clearly. “You freaking slapped the guy. And for you that’s huge.”

I was tempted to say she didn’t know me well enough—none of them did—to say that with such confidence, but I bit back the insult.

I was hanging out with her and Amy again, mostly out of guilt for unintentionally contributing to her heartbreak. She’d stopped crying already, like I’d asked her to promise, but there was still some noticeable redness around her eyes, as if it had been rubbed roughly several times.

She remained quiet, absently poking her food as Nicole went on, “He must’ve done something horrible…” She tapped her chin with a finger, thinking, and then her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, did he cheat on you?”

“He didn’t cheat on me,” I said calmly, slowly, “because we’re not together, like I’ve told you a million times already. He doesn’t like me that way.”

“Puh-lease,” she scoffed, “of course he does. Trust me, I know it when a guy’s into a girl.”

I looked up at her, feeling my anger sputter and sizzle like acid, ready to burn anyone who dared come close. Unfortunately, Nicole was the closest one I could find. “Yeah, you seem to know a lot about those kinds of things, don’t you?”

Nicole flushed, immediately shutting up.

I suppose using her secret against her was a move way below the belt. Nicole used to sleep around with a lot of guys—and I mean, a lot—but when she met this one guy who seemed so perfect, he was probably “the one”, and they got together, Mr. Perfect found out she wasn’t a virgin. And he wasn’t happy with it.

Later on, she’d told me she wanted to change, to stop herself before things got even more out of hand. She was trying—I’d seen it so many times in the way she kept conversation with some attractive boys short, making sure she didn’t let a flirty comeback slip.

It was blatantly a touchy topic for her, and now that I’d dropped the bomb, she went back to her food, shoving some salad into her mouth. I turned away, ashamed for reacting like that, but I’d had it.

I was determined to focus on my food for the rest of lunch period, but something else attracted my attention.

Colin was standing up from his table, carrying his tray towards the trash bin. I’d been ignoring him the entire morning, refusing to even acknowledge his presence, but right then my eyes followed after him as he dumped his leftover food and placed the tray on the dirty pile. He spun around, about to walk back to his friends, glancing briefly towards me.

I tore my gaze away, but it was too late; he caught me looking. Without needing to lift my head, I could sense him giving me a second glance, one that was much longer this time. I wished and wished and wished he would just walk away, leave me to my misery, but he just had to make everything worse.

I raised my head to see if he was gone, but Colin was right there, taking long strides towards me.

My arm jerked, the instinct of fight or flight taking over my body, and some of the carrots on my fork flew across the table. The other parts of me remained completely petrified.

Amy finally broke free from her daze, noticing Colin, and looked over at me with alarmed eyes. She knew I didn’t want to see him.

Nicole noticed him too. She opened her mouth to tell me the obvious, but Colin beat her to it.

“Seven,” he said, standing merely two feet away from me. My fingers itched to reach over and shorten that distance. I closed them in a fist. “I need to talk to you.” He paused. “Alone.”

I didn’t look at him, hoping he’d just disappear if I pretend he wasn’t there, but he said, “Please.”

Some of the people in the cafeteria glanced over at our table, gesturing not so subtly at Colin and me. From the corner of my eye, I could feel Amy’s stare, heavy with meaning and unspoken words. She was watching me very closely, I knew, and I thought about all the questions I’d have to answer later if I just kept avoiding Colin like this.

Then again, I’d still have a lot of questions to answer if I did go with him.

I sighed and finally looked up at Colin. Despite what he had done, his eyes still looked like home to me. “Alright,” I said.

His face lit up at my response and he nodded at me, starting to back away towards the doors of the cafeteria.

We walked side by side, and it would’ve almost been like how it was before, except for the fact that I’d kept an arm’s distance away from him. I could feel this distance between us like an ache.

Colin led us outside the cafeteria, taking a route near a bathroom where a couple of girls were hanging out taking selfies. Maria was one of them.

She gave Colin a warm, bright smile and a wave, but when her eyes shifted to me, all I saw in them was wariness and more than a little bit of dislike.

Colin had turned around a corner and walked a bit farther, ripping Maria from my sight, until we were only surrounded by lockers and empty classrooms.

“Okay, you have me alone,” I said, a little too coldly, “now what do you want to talk about?”

Colin turned around to face me, his hands in his pockets. “Before I say anything else,” he started slowly, “thanks for agreeing to talk with me. You pretty much diminished my presence into non-existence, so I didn’t think you’d even look my way again.” A tiny smirk couldn’t help making an appearance, but I stayed stoic, leaning back against a locker with my arms crossed, waiting for him to continue.

Soon that smirk was wiped off as easily as a smudge of dirt. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, the reason why I wanted to talk to you,” he said, sighing and reaching back to his back pocket, “is because I’m returning this.” He retrieved a small notebook, its cover made of black leather and its pages slightly bulky form all the writing in it. The black notebook.

He stared at it for a moment before handing it to me. I accepted it with a small tremble to my hands, my eyes wide with surprise. I couldn’t believe it. I’d actually got it back.

It’s too late now, a bitter part of me thought, he knows all the secrets in there and he can spread more of them if he wants to.

“I can never say sorry enough,” he said, shaking his head, “I should’ve given it back to you that day but I…” He trailed away, bowing his head as he did.

“Colin…” I said, looking up at him. “Colin, I—”

“No, Seven,” he said, interrupting my sentence with a raised hand, “it’s okay.” He smiled sadly and it split my heart into two. “I just hope you can somehow forgive me.”

Without waiting for me to reply, Colin turned on his heel and walked back the way we came, leaving me standing there, the black notebook clutched tightly within the cage of my fingers.

This was supposed to be my victory, right? I spent weeks plotting and giving all my efforts to get the black notebook back; I should have been rejoicing or at least felt relieved.

So why did I feel like something was terribly, terribly wrong?