Entry 2: Colin Stillman

Date: March 8, 2013

Colin Stillman stood out among the boys of his year. It wasn’t like he was the most popular guy in school. It was just that while other boys would be lounging around, their arms around their girls, wearing their cool jackets, you could usually spot him running up and down the halls, getting chased by a friend or two for pulling a prank.

He was a senior, a year older than me, but sometimes he seemed less mature. That didn’t turn me off though. If possible, it made me even more interested in him.

He was tall, around six-foot, but not so tall that when I passed him in the halls I needed to tilt my head that far back to glance up at him. He had red hair, which was one of the many reasons why his presence inside a room practically demanded attention. He had these beautiful emerald green eyes, an arrow-straight nose, heavy eyebrows and fair, smooth skin.

He was undeniably attractive; the kind of attractive that would make a girl give him a second, more appreciative glance. Several had already confessed their feelings to him, seeing how friendly and kind he was to people, but they tended to forget that he was the boy notorious for never taking anything seriously.

Needless to say, there had been many broken hearts.

I stood in front of my locker for a long time, hugging my books with one arm and holding onto the door with my other hand, even though I already had everything I came for. I was watching Colin from a distance, as I always did, as he wrapped an arm around his friend and laughed. He said a joke I couldn’t hear and they all joined him in laughter.

I’d had a crush on Colin Stillman for as long as I could remember, and right then, my whole body longed to walk across the hall and shamelessly hop in with the joke and laugh along, just so I could stand beside him for the third time in my whole life.

The first time was my first day of high school and I’d been waiting in the office for my schedule. He came confidently strolling in with that bedazzling smile that swept me off my feet the moment I saw it. He stood beside me, not even sparing me a glance, and asked the woman by the counter something that I couldn’t understand because I was too busy staring at him in awe.

It was a good thing I hadn’t drooled right there and then.

The second time was in the cafeteria, when we were lining up for our lunches and his elbow accidently hit me on the shoulder (he was gesturing wildly and it hurt a lot). He turned to me and apologized with a dorky and absolutely adorable peace sign. I murmured a small “It’s okay,” and then he looked away, back to his own world.

I know it sounds pathetic, especially since I was the one who told those who came to me with love problems to take courage by either telling somebody they loved them or to watch them with somebody else. I was also the one who told them to just casually say hi and make conversation when the opportunity presented itself, and the one who told them that if the person they liked didn’t seem to show any hint of reciprocated feelings whatsoever to suck it up and move on.

But the cold harsh truth was that I was as good as giving advice as I was bad at following it.

“Hey, Seven,” a girl named Faye said to me as she opened her own locker, which was beside mine.

I quickly snapped out of my reverie and said, “Hi.”

“What were you staring at? You look like a zombie who just saw some brains,” she said and chuckled at her own joke.

I laughed softly and shook my head. “It’s nothing. I’m a bit tired”—which wasn’t a lie—“and I was just thinking about…stuff.”

Thankfully, Faye didn’t pry. “Okay then.” I glanced at her face briefly and noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

Furtively, I pulled the black notebook out of my bag and searched for Faye’s secret. It had turned out to be really useful. Whenever somebody with another secret would come to me, I could easily just write it down and not worry about forgetting it later.

After finally finding what I was looking for, I slipped it back in and asked, “By the way, how’s your brother?”

Faye had told me just a week ago that her brother had impregnated someone after a one-night stand he’d completely forgotten about. When the girl came to him and their parents found out, they went ballistic. Faye came from a very rich family that owned several well-known businesses. I occasionally saw her in the newspapers and once on TV with her family, and if the secret about her brother were ever leaked, their family would be ruined.

I felt honored, of course, that Faye had trusted me with this secret and hadn’t told any of her friends yet. She and I used to go to the same middle school, so I supposed she was closer to me than any other person in school I knew.

Faye smiled but I could see that it was strained. “He’s fine, although still coping with what happened. Our parents are…well, you know how they are.”

Lowering my voice, I asked, “What about the girl?”

She gave me a look that said she was thankful. “Well, her parents don’t know a thing yet since there’s no…evidence.” Her hand casually went over her stomach and I nodded to show that I understood. “We’re still trying to figure out what to do. My brother doesn’t want to have anything to do with her but my dad says that he has to take care of…you know.”

She probably meant the baby. “No offense,” I said, “but he should own up to his mistakes.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured me, “I say the same thing. It’s his fault for always sleeping around.” Her eyes flashed briefly with anger and then she shook her head, sighing. “I’m sorry, Seven. I shouldn’t burden you with this secret but…I don’t know who else to turn to.”

“It’s alright,” I said, smiling kindly at her. I gave her a one-armed hug, which she immediately responded to, her arms tightening around me. “You and your family will get through this.” I let her go but not before one more comforting squeeze.

She detached herself from me and nodded, with barely detectable tears in her eyes. “Thank you so much,” she whispered to me before she closed her locker and walked away.

I closed my own locker and was going to head to my next class when I heard familiar laughter behind me. I collided against something and then I was down on the ground before I could understand what was happening. My books spilled out of my arms and my hand and elbow slammed into the polished floor, taking the damage that my face should’ve gotten.

I heard several gasps around and I was thankful for my long black hair, which was acting as a protective veil over my flushed face.

Bumping into someone and tripping? That was so elementary school. How embarrassing.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry!” an also familiar voice said, triggering an alarm in my brain. A hand shot out and grabbed my elbow, pulling me. When I got to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair and looked up to meet the very same emerald eyes I’d been daydreaming about just minutes ago.

For the first time since I’d ever seen him, Colin Stillman looked worried, all laughter drained from his face. “Are you okay?”

I nodded mutely as he helped me up, his touch burning my skin in a good way—if there was a good way to be burnt.

Beside him, a guy scowled at him and said, “That’s what you get for stealing people’s stuff. Now give me my bag back!”

Instantly the naughty grin he was known for was back on Colin’s face. He took hold of both of my shoulders and jumped behind me. I let out a frightened yelp just as his friend reached out to snatch his bag but Colin steered me so that I was shielding him.

“Don’t rain on my parade, my friend,” he said slyly, his breath tickling the back of my neck. “You’ll have to catch me—if you can, that is.” And with a laugh, he let go of me and took off.

I spun around to look at him and found him glancing over his shoulder at me as he ran. He grinned and waved at me. “Thanks for being my shield, girlie!”

“Come back here, Stillman!” his friend shouted, and although he obviously was tired of the chase, he was grinning too.

This, I realized, was the powerful effect of Colin Stillman. No wonder people crowded around him like he was a star that had fallen out of the sky. His very presence and easy friendliness, with just a dash of mischief, was like a lighthouse that led many ships ashore.

I’d always thought a person with many friends doesn’t have any at all, but I wondered if that was the case for Colin. He was always running, always having fun—so much of it that I couldn’t imagine a single problem weighing him down. I knew that wasn’t true because nobody was perfect, despite how some people seem to be pretty close to it, but I just wondered.

“Seven, are you alright?” somebody asked. When I turned to look at them, I realized that it was Brant. He must’ve been standing there all this time.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding at him reassuringly. “I’m fine.”

“Here, let me help you,” he said, ever the gentleman, and bent down to pick up my books, which were scattered in the hallway.

“You don’t have to,” I said and helped him pick them up. Once I’d gotten them all back in my arms I smiled and thanked him.

Brant shrugged. “I kind of owe you for taking the time to talk with me about…you know.”

I shook my head and assured him, “It’s no big deal. I’m just glad to help.”

“Yeah, well, your help paid off,” he said, grinning happily.

My eyes went wide as I asked, “You finally asked her out? What did she say?” although I already knew what Bianca would say, of course.

“At first she said that I didn’t really need to ask her out since we always go out to eat and hang out, but then I told her that I meant it differently than I did before,” he said, and for a moment, he seemed to be glowing. “She was ecstatic.”

“Aw, that’s great for you guys!” I said sincerely. “So, where are you taking her?”

As Brant and I talked on the way to class I wondered when the time would come when I would be asked out by a guy.

It wasn’t as if I was hideous or anything. I had long black hair, dark eyes, average height with just the right amount of curves, but a girl could start to doubt herself when she’s a year away from the end of her high school days and there still weren’t any boys who looked at her as more than a friend.

It was such a sad thought that I chose to ignore it, mostly because I didn’t want to show any hints to Brant or anybody else around me that I was practically eating myself from the inside already, or that what I really, really wanted was for the guy who just bumped me earlier to say something to me, other than an apology.

But I knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

If only I knew how wrong I was.

***

“This is only between the two of us, okay?”      

“Sure,” I said with a reassuring smile, just as the bell rang and everybody else in the room quickly dashed into their seats. Our next subject was history and the teacher, Mrs. Keys, was known to be stricter than the disciplinarian. A single accidental noise made while she was teaching would be more than enough for her to ask you to stand in front of the class for the whole period.

“It will be our secret,” I told the girl sitting beside me, Veronica, and she immediately released a sigh of relief.

“Thanks a lot, Seven,” she whispered as she turned to the front. I did the same, and in that exact moment, Mrs. Keys walked into the room, chin held high and heels clicking on the floor. Silence fell upon the students in the room like a warm blanket as she quietly placed her things on the desk.

Her eyes scanned the room suspiciously behind rectangular spectacles before she said, “We’ll be having a little seatwork today before the lesson. I’ll write the questions on the board. Answer them in a notebook or a piece of paper, whichever you prefer. I don’t think I need to tell you to keep your mouths shut while you do it.”

With that, she turned away from us and started scratching words on the board with squeaky chalk. Besides that, the only other sound was the shuffle of papers and bags. As I took out a notebook, I patted around the front pocket for the black notebook. I needed to write down Veronica’s secret before I forgot it later on.

My hand dug in deeper but there was nothing. Dread filled me all the way to my toes and fingertips, quickening my heartbeat. The pocket was empty.

The black notebook was…gone.

Resisting the urge to utter a curse, I glanced up at the teacher to check that she wasn’t looking before I grabbed my entire bag and searched everywhere—the other front pockets, inside the bag, and a secret pocket at the back but it was nowhere to be found.

I was full on panicking. My mind went back to places I’d been, things I’d touched, and people I’d talked to. Where did I lose it? When did I lose it? I was pretty sure it wasn’t at home; I used it earlier this morning. If that was so, then that meant—

“Ms. Warrilow, is there a problem?” Mrs. Keys asked, pausing in her writing and narrowing her eyes.

Seats creaked as everybody else in the room quietly turned to look at me. I raised my eyes to her and swallowed. I wanted to ask her if I could go to the bathroom, just so I could look for the black notebook, but I didn’t know if she even allowed that, as ridiculous as that sounds.

Instead, I cleared my throat and shook my head, saying, “No, ma’am.”

She stared at me coolly for a while before resuming her writing. I carefully placed my bag on the floor before dragging a hand down my face and silently cursing myself.

I thought back to all of the secrets that I’d written in that black notebook, some ridiculous and nowhere near serious, while others could ruin relationships and people’s lives in the process. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I had to find that black notebook, even if it was the death of me.

People had trusted me with their secrets and I’d lost them—literally.

Waiting for class to end was torture. After the seatwork, a lecture quickly followed and I couldn’t help but keep cracking my knuckles nervously or wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. I kept turning back and looking at the clock, hoping that the hand had moved some more, but only a minute had passed every time I looked.

I had a feeling I was close to insanity, especially with the dizzying effects of thoughts like: I hope nobody found it yet. Who am I kidding? This is high school. People steal each other’s homework every morning and we call it normal. What if somebody did find it? What if they’re reading it while I’m losing my mind right now? What if it was one of the people who came to me for advice? What would they think of me? What if it someone who wanted to mean another person harm? They could read the person’s secret and plot an evil master plan right now. Why isn’t the bell ringing already?

Even Veronica was giving me odd looks.

At last, for what felt like an eternity, the bell came exactly on time and I immediately rushed out of my seat and was first out of the door.

Thinking quickly, I retraced my steps earlier this morning. First, I came to school and was met by a boy named Gordon, who talked to me about his friend who seemed to be taking a video game too seriously. Whenever he won, his friend would swear and curse a lot and then wouldn’t talk to him for a few days.

I ran out of the building and to the front gates of the school. From there, I went on a frantic search in the grass where I’d walked about this morning. Everything was clear.

I couldn’t remember what I’d told Gordon, but I remembered walking with him to my locker to get my things.

I headed back inside the building and toward my locker. I nearly ripped the door open and ransacked the books inside but still the black notebook was nowhere to be seen.

After my locker, I’d gone to my first class, but I couldn’t go there now. So instead I went for the girls’ bathrooms. I’d only been on the first floor for today so I checked all four of them and ran my eyes over the counter, the sinks, under the sinks, inside the stalls, behind the toilets and the trashcans, but it wasn’t there.

I even asked the janitor, “Have seen a black notebook? It’s small—about this size. Have you?”

The woman looked surprised and perhaps a little frightened at how urgent my tone was. I didn’t even want to begin to think about what I looked like right then. My hair was probably a rat’s nest and my forehead was likely glistening with sweat.

She shook her head and said, “Sorry, no.”

I stomped out of the girls’ bathroom, and as I passed people rushing to their next class, I asked again, “Excuse me, have you seen a black notebook?”

But sadly, none of them had.

I continued searching frantically around the school, hoping I’d just missed the black notebook somehow and it was actually right under my nose, but it was nowhere in sight.

I tried to ignore the fact that the second bell had already rung, meaning that, if I didn’t get my butt on the seat in my next class in two minutes, I was going to be late. The hallway was eerily quiet. Everyone else was already in class. I pulled at my hair in frustration. This was hopeless.

I turned, planning on rechecking the places I’d gone to, and bumped straight into a brick wall. I stumbled back and felt two hands rest on my shoulders, steadying me. I looked up and I must’ve been dreaming, because, for the second time that day, Colin Stillman was standing in front of me, his face just inches from mine.

“It seems we’re always bumping into each other, huh?” he said, smirking. “So, you’re Seven, right? Some of my friends know you.”

Okay, so it wasn’t a dream. And he knew my name!

“Um, yeah…” I murmured lamely, a blush tainting my cheeks from how intently he was looking at me. I couldn’t believe it! I was usually so fluent, so easy with words whenever I was giving advice, but right then, just when I had the chance to talk with the one boy whom I wanted to notice me, I was tongue-tied.

Speaking of advice, I suddenly remembered the very reason I was out in the halls and not in my geometry class. I took a deep breath, summoning up the little courage I had, and asked, “Have—have you seen a black notebook anywhere in school?”

Colin raised his eyebrows and echoed, “A black notebook?”

“Yeah, it’s about this small,” I said, trying to show him the size with my hands. “I don’t know where I’ve lost it and it’s really important to me.”

“Hmm…” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his green eyes lingering on me. Was it just me or did I see a twinkle of mischief in those eyes?

With a barely-there smile, he slipped his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and brought out the exact black Moleskine notebook I had been looking for. “You mean this?”

“Yes,” I breathed out in relief as I grinned up at him. He gave me a Cheshire cat smile. “Thank you. I—”

As I went to take it, he suddenly pulled back, keeping it just out of my reach.

“Now,” he said slowly, “what makes you think I’m going to give it back just like that?”

I blinked at Colin in surprise. “Because…because it’s mine,” I said, too confused to find a better reason.

He chuckled and looked at the black notebook in his hand. “I suppose,” he said and then glanced at me from the corner of his eye, “but that would be boring.” He leaned closer, close enough that I could feel his warmth radiating off him. He met my eyes and, if only the situation were different, it would’ve been romantic. “Pry it out of my cold dead fingers.”

My eyes widened in utter shock. He suddenly laughed and said, “I’m just kidding. That was too serious.”

My lips twitched into a hesitant smile and I reached for the notebook again but Colin stepped away just in time and laughed—the same laugh that I had thought was so full of freedom and joy, that an hour ago I couldn’t have imagined being irritated about.

“Fooled ya!” he laughed and started jogging backwards while waving the black notebook in the air. “Take it from me—if you can, that is!”

I gaped at him. He was so—he was so childish! All this time that I’d been admiring him from a distance; I thought he was simply fun to be with and always just kidding around, but this was an entirely new level.

I was so wrong about him. It was as if I’d been sleepwalking all this time and now I was finally fully awake. He wasn’t the boy that I’d dreamed about whisking me off my feet and running into the sunset with.

This was Colin Stillman—and he was a jerk.

Just as he disappeared around a corner, my hands curled into furious, trembling fists. A sudden rage that I didn’t know I could hold filled me up. He had no idea who he was dealing with.

So he wanted to play this game? I thought to myself. Fine, I’ll play with him—but I’m sure not planning on losing.

Colin Stillman, you’re going down.