Between Friends by Debbie Macomber (6)

1965

Holy Name Academy
230 First Street
Pine Ridge, Washington 98005

Jillian’s Diary

January 23, 1965

This whole detention thing is juvenile, and all because I rolled my skirt up. First, I detest wearing a uniform. I told Mom how much I hated it but she didn’t care. She says that a lot. “I don’t care” and “We aren’t going to talk about it.” Sometimes I swear she treats me like I’m ten years old. The other day I wanted to stand on my chair at the fancy new dining-room table and scream to get her attention. How else can I get her to recognize that I’m seventeen years old?

The state of Washington trusts me enough to give me a license to drive a motorized vehicle. Dad even bought me a car to go back and forth to school. It seems that if the government thinks I’m mature enough to drive, I should be smart enough to figure out what to wear to school. Apparently they think that if I had a choice, I’d wear something obnoxious like jeans and a sweatshirt. The truth is, my choices have been completely taken away from me, since I’m forced into a ridiculous school uniform. My closet is full of dresses I never get a chance to wear. I have this fear that I’ll be wearing a blue skirt and red blazer my entire life!

I love my parents, especially my dad. Both Mom and Dad are swell, but at times they can be completely irrational. They’re no better than my teachers when it comes to this uniform thing. Girls attending school in Communist Russia wear uniforms. (I don’t know that for a fact because no one really knows what’s happening in Russia except spies.) We talk about the Berlin Wall and the struggle for freedom, but we’re not all that different right here in Pine Ridge.

When I insisted that wearing uniforms was a form of Communism because it enforced sameness and obliterated personal identity, Dad said he wasn’t going to argue with me. I told him he was a coward but in a joking way, since everyone knows my dad is probably one of the truest, kindest, fairest men in the entire courthouse. I could see that he was amused and I know why. By proving my point with such a smart argument, I’m showing my parents that I’d be a good attorney. Actually I like to argue. I enjoy flustering people and proving my point. It gives me a sense of satisfaction.

I flustered the kid at the gas station the other day, but I didn’t mean to. He was young, probably about thirteen. He wanted to wash my windshield, but couldn’t reach the middle of the glass so I got out of my car and did it for him. Then his big brother showed up and finished the job for us both. I don’t think any boy has ever affected me like this. His name was embroidered on his coveralls. Nick. He’s the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. One look told me he was a break-all-the-rules kind of guy. My heart was going crazy. I wasn’t about to let him know the effect he had on me, so I casually stepped aside and let him take over.

When he was finished, I paid him the $3.09 to fill up my tank. As soon as I pulled away, I looked in my rearview mirror and found Nick watching me. Then he grinned—and I nearly steered off the road. I felt that smile go right through me, the same way I do when the cat lies across my chest and purrs. I think I might be buying gas at the Texaco station a lot more often. Not soon, though. My driving privileges have been suspended for two weeks because of that demerit slip. I’m furious about it, but no amount of arguing would change my mother’s mind. As far as I’m concerned, Mom is the unreasonable one in our family.

P.S. I found out that Nick goes to Pine Ridge High and he’s a Junior (same as me).

Lesley’s Diary

February 5, 1965

Jillian had a detention because of her skirt length and had to stay after school to polish the gym floor this afternoon, so I walked home alone. Buck Knowles saw me and stopped to offer me a ride. Buck is twenty-one and works at the mill with Dad. Because I kinda know him, I thought it would be okay to accept. He didn’t remember that I was Mike’s daughter and then tried to pretend that he did. He said he’s noticed me before, looking all “virginal” (his word) in my Academy uniform. It sounded like he’s been interested in me for a long time. I’ve noticed him, too.

Last week Mom sent me down to the mill to collect Dad’s paycheck and I saw Buck. He looked at me and I looked at him. I had my school uniform on then, too. The way he stared made me feel older than sixteen. Mom didn’t see him drop me off at the house today and I didn’t mention that Buck had given me a ride. After I closed the car door, he leaned over and rolled down the side window and said he’d see me around. I know I’ll be looking for him.

Dance Card for

Jillian Lawton

Junior/Senior Prom

“Moulin Rouge”

May 15, 1965

1. Scott McDougal
2. Scott McDougal
3. Scott McDougal
4. Marvin Watterman
5. Scott McDougal
6. Scott McDougal
7. Scott McDougal
8. Scott McDougal
9. Buck Knowles
10. Scott McDougal

Lesley’s Diary

October 13, 1965

Buck phoned twice, but I had Susan tell him I wasn’t home. I don’t want to talk to him, not after what happened last week. When he picked me up for our date he’d been drinking, but I thought everything would be all right. It wasn’t, and Friday was the worst night of my life.

He said it was my fault, and that I can’t lead a man on and then turn him off. He was so rough and angry and it hurt so badly. Jillian and I used to discuss what it would be like the first time and this wasn’t anything beautiful or tender. Buck hurt me.

I know I should go to confession, but I don’t want to talk about this. Father Morris wouldn’t understand. He’s a man and he’d say I was as much to blame as Buck. It wasn’t my fault! I didn’t do anything to lead Buck into thinking that was what I wanted. We started kissing and when I saw he was getting really worked up I tried to stop, but that only made Buck want me more. Next thing I knew, his hands were on my breasts and then he pinned me down on his davenport and he’d shoved my panties down.

When Dad came home from work tonight, he wanted to know why I wasn’t talking to Buck. I told him we’d had a fight, which we did, and Dad got mad at me. My own father sided with Buck! I’ve decided to have nothing to do with Buck ever again. I don’t think I can forgive my father for thinking I was the one in the wrong. He doesn’t even know what happened. No one does. I can’t talk to Mom about this, or Susan. My sister has barely been kissed. As much as I’d like to tell Jillian, I can’t. I can’t even tell my best friend! My dress is ruined and even if it wasn’t, I’d never want to wear it again. I feel ugly and dirty and so ashamed.

Lesley’s Diary

October 26, 1965

Buck phoned and this time I was unlucky enough to answer. He begged me to see him. I said no, but he turned up at the house anyway and insisted on taking me to the Dairy Queen for a Dilly bar. I didn’t want to go, but my dad asked me if I considered myself too good for a man who worked at the mill. I told him not seeing Buck didn’t have anything to do with his job.

Buck and I sat and talked at the Dairy Queen and he apologized over and over. He promised me nothing like that will happen again. He seemed so sincere. Tears came to his eyes and I wanted to believe him. Then, when we got in his car, we started kissing. Before I realized what he was planning to do, he had his hand up my dress. I could see he was getting excited and I immediately put an end to our necking. Buck got mad and what he said made me feel kind of guilty. He kept saying how crazy he is about me and how much he needs me. We ended up doing it again. I could’ve stopped him, but I didn’t. At least it didn’t hurt this time. When we finished I started crying. Buck didn’t understand why. I’m not sure I do, either, but I couldn’t make myself stop. I told him it would be better if we didn’t see each other again and he said it’s because I think I’m too good for him, just the way Dad claimed. He dropped me off at the house and then took off with his tires squealing.

Jillian’s Diary

December 14, 1965

I stopped at the Texaco station with a fruitcake for Mr. Murphy. He seemed surprised that a customer would remember him at Christmas and gave me an entire set of matching juice glasses. Jimmy knew I’d been collecting them whenever I filled up my tank and must have told his father. I was disappointed Nick wasn’t there.

Last week I saw him riding his motorcycle in front of Holy Name Academy and wondered if he was looking for me. I hope he was. My heart beat so fast when I saw him. He pumps my gas almost every time I come to the station now. Sometimes we talk, but he’s usually too busy to say more than hello.

Lesley warned me that I’m flirting with danger. She says Nick is dangerous. I see it in his eyes and the way he looks at me, as though I’m the only girl he’s ever wanted. Whenever he focuses on me, I can actually feel it. The air between us gets hot and heavy like it does before a big storm. This shivery feeling goes all through me and doesn’t stop for a long time afterward.

I’d be a fool to break it off with Scott. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t want to hurt Scott’s feelings, but I’m drawn to Nick the way a moth is to a flame. Scott has been a good boyfriend and I’m the envy of every girl at school. I know if I broke up with him, he wouldn’t have any trouble getting a new girlfriend. That makes me wonder if I should stop seeing him.

Nick has never asked me out, never called me at home. For the longest time I didn’t even think he remembered my name. The most he’s done is fill up my car with gas and flirt a little. I can’t hurt Scott over that. Not when he’s been so sweet and considerate.

Speaking of breaking up, I wish Lesley would dump Buck Knowles. He treats her terribly. At first it was exciting that Buck wanted to date Lesley. He recently turned twenty-two and no one else in class is dating anyone that much older. The fact that he’s so attracted to her tells us all that we’re no longer girls; we’re women now. But I don’t care how much older and more sophisticated Buck is. He doesn’t treat Lesley the same way he did when they first started seeing each other.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her lately, but she hasn’t been herself. She tells me she’s going to break up with Buck and then she never does. When I ask her about it, she always has some excuse for why she can’t. It’s like she’s caught in a trap and doesn’t know how to break free.

The whole world seems to be in turmoil. The war in Vietnam is heating up and there was a huge protest rally in Oakland. When I asked my dad about it, he said it was vital that we wipe out Communism. He thinks it’s a good idea for the United States to be involved in the war. My father is the smartest man I know. If he believes in this war, then I’ll do whatever I can to support it.

I finally figured out what I’m getting Mom for Christmas—a book. I know that sounds boring, but she enjoys reading and The Shoes of the Fisherman by Morris West is one I know she’d enjoy. Dad subtly dropped that hint, and I was grateful.

Les and I should be able to spend time together over Christmas break, and maybe then she can tell me what’s wrong, because something definitely is. I’ve been her best friend since first grade. I know her as well as she does herself. Whatever it is has to do with Buck, I’m convinced of that.