Entry 20: The Black Notebook

Date: April 12, 2013

I didn’t catch another glimpse of Colin for the rest of the day. Part of the reason was because I didn’t have any classes with him, but it was mostly because I’d dedicated myself to spending less time out in the halls in between classes. Once the bell rang for the end of another school day, I said goodbye to the last group of friends I was with, looked away when I thought I saw a tuft of red hair, and went straight home.

“Wow, Seven, you’re back early,” my mom said when I’d closed the front door to our house behind me. She was sitting on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table, a book in hand and a small timer set before her. She was probably waiting for something to bake in the oven.

I glanced at the clock in our living room and raised an eyebrow at her. “But I always come home at this time.”

“Well, you were out with Colin a little later than usual yesterday, so I assumed it would be the same today,” she said, not knowing the impact of his name on me.

It was a good thing her eyes were trained on the book she was reading, and not on me, because I had no idea what I looked like as I thought back to Colin and the sad smile he gave me. I certainly didn’t feel good about it, so I figured I probably wouldn’t look good, either.

“I’ll be in my room,” I announced curtly and went ahead upstairs.

“Seven,” my mom’s voice suddenly pulled me back. I stopped, my hand practically engraving itself on the railing by how hard I was gripping it. I asked, “Yeah?”

“Honey, are you okay?” she asked. I couldn’t see her face, but her worried tone told me all I needed to know.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I just have tons of homework to do.”

She didn’t reply to that, and I took it as permission to leave. I hurried up to my room, slamming the door shut with my leg. I dropped down to the chair in front of my desk, carried my backpack to my lap, and pawed inside for my textbooks. I hesitated when I saw the black notebook, just waiting for me to take it and write, but I ignored it and pulled my bio book out.

After going through weeks without the black notebook, I had a lot of new secrets I needed to keep and input. That, however, didn’t mean I was all that eager to reminisce on the things that had happened prior to its recent return, which I would surely do if I looked at it long enough.

So I did what I would’ve done before all of this had happened: I tuned out the whole world and studied. I concentrated on the formulas I knew would come up in the test this coming Monday, and once I was certain I wouldn’t easily forget them throughout the weekend, I went ahead and finished a project that was due next week.

By the time I was done, the sun was starting to sink in the sky. I wanted to waste more time, but I knew I couldn’t escape it forever. Eventually, I grabbed my phone and scrolled down my inbox, purposely skipping over Colin’s name.

After answering the new messages I’d just received, I dragged a hand over my face and sighed, bending over to pick up my backpack again. I shoved my textbooks back inside and found the black notebook at the very bottom.

I checked my phone again. The first secret was another problem between friends. One of them felt like the other didn’t trust him enough and admitted that there was a bit of hatred on his part of the friendship.

It made me think about how fragile relationships were. Dishonesty and the reluctance to share their true feelings could easily break one into pieces. You wouldn’t even know something’s wrong until it’s already dying.

I chose a pen from my collection and shifted in my seat, preparing myself for the task I was about to do.

When I flipped the black notebook open, I was surprised to see something else written inside.

Knitting my eyebrows in confusion, I blinked at the words, unsure if I was hallucinating. I rubbed my eyes and stared at it again.

It was all in my handwriting, so it couldn’t have been Colin or anyone else who wrote it, but instead of seeing a list of secrets like I was expecting to, I saw a diary entry.

November 8, 2012

Dear Diary,

So. Hi. This is my first time to keep a diary, but I think it’s going to help me out a lot. I have a lot of thoughts and it’s pretty hard to share them with the people around me, especially because I know how they really are. It’s no offense to them, but I’d like to protect my secrets and myself. I don’t want to start this like some whiny teenager, so I’ll pretend I’m like one of my favorite authors. Here goes:

When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t expecting anything big. I didn’t expect any fireworks to suddenly explode outside my window, or for Colin Stillman, this guy I’ve been crushing on for the past two years, to knock on my door and profess his love for me. But I also didn’t expect anything bad to happen, either. I mean, come on, it’s my birthday. Can’t the universe just give me a break for once?

But no, of course not, it just had to let me catch Colin (the aforementioned guy I like) and his girlfriend kissing in an empty classroom that I happened to stumble upon because I left my book in there. Talk about awkward. So, what do you think I did? Of course, I did the most rational thing I could think of: run away.

I don’t want to get into the gory details of the scene, but when I came in, they broke apart, hair messed up, and I just sprinted to the opposite direction like my life depended on it. Awesome, right?

I seriously need to move on from this guy. I don’t understand, it’s not like I know him or anything. He doesn’t even know I exist, and for some reason, I can’t move on. People have had it worse than me and it’s not like we ever talked or had any “special moments” and he has a girlfriend, for goodness’ sake!

I should just go to sleep…

My mind flew back to the time I bought my collection of black notebooks, considering writing a diary because I just couldn’t keep all of these thoughts bottled up inside. I remembered thinking these thoughts and writing these words. I could even feel the same emotions rushing through me like the wind, a breeze that was just barely there.

However, I also remembered taking this exact same notebook in front of me from Colin and stuffing it into my bag, not feeling up to looking inside just yet. I remembered bringing it out just a few moments ago and opening it, ready to encode new secrets.

But this definitely wasn’t the black notebook I’d written everyone’s secrets in.

That could only mean that it was actually my diary that was with Colin this entire time. If that was the case, then where was the black notebook, the one with all the secrets I’d been trying desperately to protect?

I fell off my chair and to the ground, barely feeling the sharp pain in my knees as I turned my backpack upside-down, practically throwing every book out and searching in between the pages, even if it obviously wasn’t going to be there. A few minutes later, my backpack was completely empty and still, the black notebook was nowhere to be seen.

I groaned angrily in frustration and patted blindly inside the bag, quadruple-checking its inner pockets. It was only when my fingers accidentally slipped inside a rip in the bag that I realized the extent of my fatuity.

The rip was slim, but it was definitely big enough to fit the black notebook. My hand dove anxiously into the rip and, just as I thought, the black notebook was there, resting snugly inside.

How could I have been so stupid?

All this time I’d been foolishly thinking that everyone else’s secrets were on the line, but in truth, it was mine. It was my diary with my secrets and…

“And Colin had it,” I finished, feeling the blood drain from my face as the entirety of the situation dawned upon me. Heat rushed up my neck, and I could imagine a horrible blush setting my face aflame. I could also imagine the laugh Colin must’ve had when he’d read my diary.

He probably read it all. Colin had read all of my inner thoughts, my deepest desires. He saw a side of me that no one else had ever seen before. I wanted to melt down to the ground and never resurface again, but I forced myself to get up from the floor and sit back down on my chair.

Shakily, I picked up the black notebook and opened it to a random page, wanting to know what the things Colin had read.

November 30, 2012

Dear Diary,

I want to start with something really cool for this entry, but I just want to come out and say it: Colin and his girlfriend broke up last night. I heard it from a friend of his friend. He said Colin hadn’t taken it seriously anyway, but I still feel kind of bad for him. They’ve been together for two months, I think. There must’ve been some development of feelings somewhere there, right?

But I can’t deny it: I’m happy, like, really happy I can’t even dgfadscbbdka

Ahem, sorry. This is so stupid, it’s not like he’s going to suddenly want to date me, of all people. But at least I won’t have to be jealous all the time because he’s making out with some beautiful girl I can never aim to be.

Oh! I saw a picture of him with the track and field team today, and he looked so hot! And the fact that he’s so nice to people and is fun to be with just adds more to it! How can someone so perfect like him exist?

And in Calculus, he got a really good score in the test. I’m so proud of him! :)

I gritted my teeth. There was more to the entry—plenty of it—but I quickly switched to another one and another one, and with each one, I felt like crawling to the corner of my room and crying in shame.

January 3, 2013

Dear Diary,

I wonder if anyone can really hear my voice. I wonder if anyone really cares. Does anyone even think about how their actions and words affect other people? Spreading a secret may seem fun at the time, but there’s a reason it’s a secret in the first place. Maybe a kiss or a touch seemed harmless to them, but it could mean the whole world to the other party. A statement told jokingly may appear insignificant, but it can be as serious as a person hanging on a rope by his neck.

January 10, 2013

Dear Diary,

Today someone confessed to me something about Colin. They were saying how ridiculous he could be, that he’s lenient and ignorant of other people’s feelings. “He just goes around, cracking jokes, even about the really important things that can hurt,” the person had said. I immediately came to Colin’s defense, of course. I’m not being biased or anything; I can understand that some have a limit to how much they can take of happy-go-lucky people and their way of life, but Colin’s just being himself.

I don’t want to mention names, but I basically told the person to be more patient, to be more understanding, and to be the better person. I hope they follow my advice. Part of me was tempted to say that at least they knew Colin and they could interact with him and have the chance to get to know him, but of course I didn’t. No one can ever know that.

January 15, 2013

Dear Diary,

I saw him running in the rain after school today. I hope he doesn’t get sick :( Now I regret not offering my umbrella to him. We could’ve shared it. That would’ve been really nice.

I ran my hands through my hair, tempted to pull them out of their roots. My eyes could barely register the dates through the tears. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening.

He reminds me of the sun, so bright and warm, shining light into other people’s lives.

I hate my thighs. I wish I could be a little thinner like that cheerleader who keeps talking to Colin. They seem really close. Maybe he likes her.

I wish I had someone to talk to.

I’m not his Valentine this year, either. Duh. What was I thinking?

Sometimes I wonder what he is like when no one is watching. Is he just as what everyone else says he is—the uncontrollable and untamable class clown? Is he how I always dreamed of him to be—the prince charming pulled out of a fairytale—or is he something else entirely?

I cried out, tossing my diary across the room. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, as if I could shut out the truth; pretend that my secrets were still safe, that Colin was someone I could only admire from afar.

But Colin knew. He knew everything. He knew I’d been pining after him for four years, and he was probably disgusted by me. He probably thought I was a creep.

The black notebook hit the wall just above my bed, stayed there for half a second and then fell safely on the cushions, bouncing a little and opening to a certain page.

I peeked at it from between my fingers. My vision was blurry and my mind disoriented, but I didn’t miss it: there was a long, long entry written in red ink.

I always wrote in black.

Slowly and tentatively, I removed my hands from my tear-streaked face and inched towards my bed. The closer I got, the faster my heart raced.

I snatched the notebook from the bed. This entry was written a page after my last one and I brought my eyes to the first line: Well, this is interesting.

I immediately knew who it was. Colin.

I was tempted to stop right there and then and just dump the notebook in gasoline and burn it, but he’d written more in the next few pages. My knees gave up on me and I plopped down on the bed, mouth gaping at Colin’s messy handwriting.

He’d crossed out an entire paragraph and I squinted to try and make out the words.

Okay, Seven, first of all, you’re not my type. I usually like blondes or brunettes, not black-haired beauties. I mean, you’re attractive and you’re probably going to find some really sweet guy who would appreciate all this stuff you’ve written in this notebook but I’m not that guy. Sorry.

Below all that mess, he wrote:

Seven, I’m so sorry. I should’ve given you this notebook back right after discovering that it was your diary, but I was having so much fun reading your feelings and teasing you the next day that I kept delaying it…until I realized something really important. I realized that this beautiful, beautiful girl who wrote all of this amazing stuff about me really cares about me. I noticed you kept repeating your insecurities that I would never look your way. Well, guess what? I’m in love with you.

My hand found its way to my mouth, clamping it shut to stifle my gasp. I read that last line again: I’m in love with you.

I couldn’t believe it. The tears were inevitably coming again, dripping down the slope of my cheek. This must be a prank, another trap I was just going to fall into—I was sure of it—but still, my heart soared at his words. Colin Stillman is in love with me—with me. I hurried to read more.

I heard you at the park yesterday, you know, when you told Lassie that you were in love with me. Actually, right now, I’m not all that sure if your feelings are still the same since you’re pretty pissed that I still haven’t given back the black notebook, but I’m hoping I’m wrong and you still have those feelings for me.

I do. Oh, Colin, of course I do.

Seven, you have to understand that I didn’t give it back because I was scared, okay? I was scared that, if I gave this notebook back, you would hate me to the point that your feelings would vanish. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted this little moment I have with you to last a little longer, but I guess time caught up with me. But, Seven, I remember what you said that day. You said I should learn to stop playing around and start taking things seriously. The truth is, I’ve been taking a lot of things more seriously now. I even forgave my father. Did you know that? I did it because of your persuasion, and now I think I’m starting to really forgive him in my heart. Thank you for that.

This whole time, I wasn’t kidding around. I wasn’t pretending to be your boyfriend and kissing you for fun. I want to be your boyfriend and to kiss you. I’ve been dying to kiss you since your cousins kidnapped me. If I am so bold to say, you’re the only thing I’ve been serious about for a long time.

I honestly don’t know who Amy is. I never read her secret or anyone else’s secrets because I never got that other notebook you thought I had.

“No wonder…” I whispered to myself, finally finding the missing pieces I needed to form the puzzle and see the big picture.

The clues had all been there, but I’d assumed and convinced myself that everything I knew was correct, effectively blinding me from the truth. Until now.

That day when I’d been Colin’s slave and we’d hidden behind a shelf of tissue papers and cans of paint in the janitor’s closet, he had no idea about Jake and Tiffany. He didn’t even know they were together.

Wait, what? I’d asked. You didn’t know about this?

He’d merely shrugged and said, Should I?

I should’ve used my common sense to understand that Colin should know about it, if he really had the black notebook, because I wrote it—I knew I wrote it—in the very first page. It was impossible for him to miss it.

And then that night when I’d first broken into Colin’s room in search of the black notebook, he’d taunted me, saying, All of your secrets are mine!

I should’ve known that he literally meant my secrets. I went back to reading, hungry for his next words.

But you know what? I’m actually glad I didn’t…because now I know you way better than anyone else. Each day I spent with you, kidding around you, laughing with you and watching your expressions change with so many emotions and all so fascinating, I slowly learned new things about you. But without this black notebook, I couldn’t have gotten any deeper than what anyone else knows about you, if they only looked harder.

Don’t blame yourself, okay? I deserved that slap. It sort of woke me up, I guess, which is why I’m writing this message and giving you the notebook back. Seven, you were afraid of sharing your secrets because you saw how easily people could betray each other. You were afraid of looking me in the eye or talking to me before because you thought you weren’t good enough for me or, if I found out about your feelings, I’d act weirdly around you.

But, Seven, I know all of your secrets now, your insecurities, your fears and, most of all, your feelings, and I still love you. I love you for who you are, Seven Warrilow.

I tried to wipe my tears as fast as I could, but some of them fell on the page, smudging his words. They may have ruined the ink, but they could never ruin the message it contained.

I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me again or even see me. I’m sorry I’m violating your diary by writing all this crap, but I’m a coward and I don’t know how else to tell you all of this in one go. I hope you can forgive me.

Colin

I was openly crying now, my body trembling with sobs. My hands lost their grip on the notebook and it dropped to the bed again. I wrapped my arms around myself, curling up and wishing I could make myself smaller.

Colin thought I hated him. I thought I did too, but not now, especially not after I’d discovered his true feelings.

I flashed back to all those times when he’d treated me so sweetly, held me so tenderly, and I asked myself, Why didn’t he just tell me? I would’ve understood. I would’ve.

In that moment, I knew I needed to do something about this.

I hopped off my bed and sped towards my desk, taking my phone and punching in his number before I could stop myself. He didn’t answer my call instantly, but I waited patiently.

When his phone rang for the fourth time and he still didn’t pick up, I chewed nervously on my nails, wondering if it was too late.

And then, I heard the click. “Hello?” a voice said, but it wasn’t Colin’s. It was a girl’s.

My blood ran cold. “Who is this?” I asked, barely breathing.

“Seven? It’s Maria,” she said. “Why are you calling Colin?”

My will was crumbling bit by bit, but I held on. “Can you give him the phone? I need to talk to him.”

“Look, Seven, you’re a nice girl,” she said in a placating tone, just like the one I used whenever I was telling someone the bad news—the awful, awful truth. “But I think you should give up.”

“What?” I’d never heard my voice sound so small and shrill.

“Colin doesn’t like you, okay? Whatever ‘moment’ you had with him is over,” she said. “We’re together now.”

Her words hit me hard like a train, crushing my heart and my spirits. The earth could’ve opened up below me right then and there and I wouldn’t have noticed.

I couldn’t find anything to answer, but I didn’t need to. Maria continued, “I know it’s hard to take in, but you’ll get over him, Seven. Every other girl who ever got her heart broken by him did. You can, too.” I knew she must’ve been smiling as she said, “Well, I have to go. Colin’s calling me. Bye then!”

She hung up, and I was left there, feeling empty and dead. I didn’t even feel my feet moving, taking me to the bed. I was numb and detached from this world. I collapsed down on the bed at an awkward angle, but I didn’t care. I pulled my pillow over my head, and it muffled my screams and swallowed up my tears, but it couldn’t take away the hurt.

From somewhere distant, I could hear my mom calling me for dinner, but I ignored her.

Colin had already moved on. He’d moved on to another girl. I was too late.

That tiny sliver of chance I had moments ago was gone, and it was all my fault. It was all my fault.

***

Right about that same moment, Colin was having a beer.

It wasn’t his rule to finish an entire bottle before a party ended, but this time was different.

The party he was currently in was smaller than the ones he usually attended. It was more of a get-together, a celebration by friends for the success of Freddie, who was the host, but it definitely wasn’t because he won a gold medal or something.

While everyone else had passed their SATs, Freddie failed miserably. His parents got really mad at him, probably because his older brothers were all geniuses and aced their tests, so he was forced to take them again.

And this time, he got in—by one point.

Colin pulled on a smile, pretending he was actually listening to what any of his friends were saying.

Everywhere he looked, there was merriment and laughter, but for some reason, he felt…alone. He felt detached from everything and everyone. He tried to focus on the present, but his thoughts kept going back to her—to Seven.

Seven.

With her name came a pang in his chest. He lifted his beer to his lips, but stopped just in time, remembering that he’d already drained more than half of it. He placed it on the kitchen counter, pushing it away from him.

Whenever Colin thought back to that afternoon, after he’d given back the black notebook, he felt queasy. His mind constantly wandered back to that message he wrote in her diary, trying to guess if she’d read it already or not. It wasn’t every day that he poured out his deepest feelings to a girl who probably hated his guts. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t calling him.

Calm down, he told himself, she’ll call you if she wants to. If she doesn’t, it’s fine. It’s cool. It doesn’t matter.

It did.

He laughed at the joke Roman just said and fumbled inside his jean pocket for his phone. Once he realized it wasn’t there, he twisted around to look at his back pockets, but it wasn’t there either.

Colin craned his neck towards the couch in the living room, where he’d been sitting a couple of minutes ago. He could see Maria, still sitting cross-legged by the spot he was in earlier, sliding her fingers across the screen of his phone.

It wasn’t strange that he’d let Maria play with his phone. She often took it in her bony fingers, taking pictures of herself, sometimes both of them, but he always just deleted them afterwards.

But for some reason, this time, Colin felt annoyed.

He left his group without saying anything and strode towards Maria, clenching his jaw. Just thinking of the possibility that Seven had already called and he wasn’t able to answer her because Maria wanted to take more pictures of herself made him feel like punching something.

She looked up at him and smiled as he got closer. He ignored her and snatched his phone from her hands without a second thought. “What are you doing with my phone?” he demanded, a little too harshly.

Maria was shocked at his angry expression, but she expertly covered it with a grin. “What? I was just playing a game, okay? Sheesh.”

Colin stared at her, suspicious, and then asked, “Did anyone call me? Or, I don’t know, texted?”

She cocked her head to the side, her hair falling off her bare shoulder. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head, and then she gasped, an idea forming in her head. “Hey! Colin, we should take a picture together!”

He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Why should we?”

“Well, high school’s almost ending,” she reasoned, leaning towards him, “and we should, you know, make more memories together.” She extended her arm, aiming to take his hand, but he quickly backed away, scowling.

“I don’t care,” he growled. Maria recoiled, her smile falling apart. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. And why would she? Colin never got mad at anyone. He was always smiling, always having fun. He was the boy that no problem could ever touch.

The only person who really knew the truth was Seven.

He didn’t bother waiting for Maria to respond and simply walked away, heading back to his friends. When he was far away from her, at last, Colin checked his recent call history, hoping against hope, but all it told him was that Seven never called.

And he believed it.

It seemed, in his sadness, he forgot how easily information could be altered.