The Dirt Diary (12 page)

When Evan rings the doorbell, I nearly have a heart attack. I’ve never had a guy over to my house, not even to work on a school project or anything. In fact, I have no idea how my mom would feel about me having a boy over. But I decide not to worry about that right now.

“Hi,” I say after I open the door. My cheeks hurt from the crazy grin on my face. Calm down, I tell myself. You don’t want to scare him off.

“Hey,” says Evan. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Oh.” I realize I’m just standing in the doorway, staring at him. I let him inside and lead him into the kitchen. I must have been channeling my mom because I’ve spent the past half hour furiously cleaning the house in preparation for Evan’s visit, even though it was already pretty spotless.

“Those cream puffs look amazing,” Evan says. He turns back to me, and that’s when he must notice the misery I’m trying to hide. “Are you okay?”

I mean to lie and tell him that I’m fine, but I find myself saying, “My dad met another woman. He’s not coming back.”

“Wow, I’m really sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

I’m surprised to discover that I don’t, not at all. I said all I had to say to my dad. “Actually, I kind of just want to watch TV and get my mind off things.”

“Fair enough,” says Evan.

But as we start to watch the show, I have a hard time keeping my mind on the elaborate pastries. All I can think about is what Dad said about leaving when I was a kid. That’s why Mom tried so hard to move on, because she’d been through it before, and this time she knew he’d left for good.

“Rachel, are you okay?” Evan asks.

I snap back to reality and realize the credits of
Pastry
Wars
are rolling and that I missed pretty much the whole show.

“No. I mean yeah. I guess I’m just distracted.” And then I find myself telling him all about the phone conversation I had with my dad. “Sorry,” I say when I’m done. “I shouldn’t have invited you over when I’m such a mess.”

Evan looks at me. “I don’t think you’re a mess. In fact, I think you’re pretty awesome.”

My face goes boiling hot, but for once it isn’t from being mortified. I can’t stop grinning as we go back to watching TV. As angry as I am about everything that my dad has put my family through, I’m glad that at least something good has come of it all.

But as much as I want to enjoy hanging out with Evan, I keep thinking about the plane ticket and the money and everything else that’s happened in the past few weeks.

I get to my feet. “Hold on, I have to go take care of something. I’ll be back in a minute.” I have to cancel that plane ticket now, before I’m tempted to change my mind.

But just as I sit down at my computer, I hear Mom come through the front door.

“Ray-chul, where are you?” she calls in a voice that tells me I’m in huge trouble. Uh-oh. Poor unsuspecting Evan is in the living room all by himself.

I rush out to rescue him, even though I’m dreading whatever it is Mom’s going to yell at me about. When I get there, I see she’s holding a piece of paper with a bank logo on it. Oh no. She knows. She knows everything.

I can practically hear a buzzer go off in my head. Time’s up. Game over.

“Rachel,” Mom says, her voice a scary kind of calm. “Can you ask your guest to leave, please?”

Evan shoots to his feet, looking ready to run.

“Thanks for coming over,” I tell him, hoping the “I am so incredibly sorry” is implied.

He gives me a weak smile and darts for the door. Then I’m left all alone with Mom. I expect her to start yelling, but instead she goes over to the couch and sinks into it with a heavy sigh.

“Come sit down,” she orders.

I obey, trying not to get too close in case she starts shooting fireballs out of her eyes.

“Do you know what the first thing I did was after you were born?” she says. “I went to the bank and opened a savings account in your name. I’d spent years working one terrible job after another, each boss more clueless than the next, and I never wanted you to have to do that.” She looks over at me, her eyes hard. “But the thing about that money, Rachel, is that even though it’s for your college education, it isn’t your money. It’s
my
money. And I decide how it’s spent, do you understand?”

I nod, knowing it’s pointless to argue.

“But you didn’t understand that a few weeks ago, because if you had, you wouldn’t have withdrawn three hundred dollars! Am I right?”

I realize she wants an actual answer. “You’re right,” I whisper.

“So what did you do with that money, Rachel? What did you need it for?”

I don’t want to admit how stupid I was in thinking I could get Dad to come back to us, but I have to tell her something. Mom is too mad to just let it go without an explanation.

“Was it for a dress?” she says. “Is that what was so important that you couldn’t ask me first?”

I gawk at her. “A dress? Do you really think I’d take money out for something like that?”

“Well, you seemed excited to be going to the Spring Dance. And since you don’t talk to me about anything, that’s all I had to go on.”

“This is exactly why I don’t talk to you about stuff!” I say. “Because you take what I say and totally twist it around.”

“Stop trying to change the subject. If the money wasn’t for a dress, then what did you need it for?”

I look away.

“Rachel, tell me this second!” she demands.

“Fine.” I hug a throw pillow to my chest like it’s armor. Time to come clean. “It was for a plane ticket.”

Mom’s eyes practically fall out of her head. “A plane ticket?”

“I know it was stupid, okay? But I thought that if I could just go down to Florida and see Dad, he might remember how much he missed us, and then he’d change his mind and come home. I was going to pay back the money as soon as I could. I didn’t want to use it at all, but I didn’t have any choice.”

“So you were just going to fly down to Florida without telling me?”

“No, I was going to wait until I had the money and then I was going to tell you. I wasn’t planning to run away or anything. I just knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand how you could do something like this behind my back. If you really wanted to go down to visit your father, we could have talked about it.”

“We did talk about it, remember? And you said no. You said I needed to learn to live without Dad. You’d already given up on him, on getting our family back together. But I couldn’t sit by and do nothing!”

Mom closes her eyes for a second. “I hadn’t given up, Rachel. I just knew there was nothing left to fight for. And I didn’t want you to go to Florida and come home heartbroken.”

I think of the way Dad accused me of being immature when I got upset about his new girlfriend. I guess Mom’s right. If I’d gone down to Florida, things wouldn’t have gotten better. Maybe I would have been even more crushed than I am now.

“So,” Mom says, turning to me. “You’re going to return that ticket and put back that money. If you can save up for the trip on your own, then we’ll talk about it. But you’re not going to jeopardize your future to go traipsing down to Florida to try to talk sense into your father.”

“I’m not going, okay? You were right. It was stupid of me to think it could work. Besides, Dad is the last person I want to see right now. I’m going to return the ticket today.”

“Good,” says Mom. Then she frowns. “What do you mean, your father is the last person you want to see?”

“Nothing.”

“What happened? Tell me.”

Even though Dad told me not to tell Mom, I don’t have a choice. Because she deserves to know the truth, and I can’t hold the secret in for a minute longer. “He met someone else! He’s never coming back to us now.”

Mom sits back, looking like she’s just been slapped across the face. “He met someone else,” she repeats.

“He doesn’t care that we miss him,” I say. “All he cares about is himself. You were right. He didn’t want us there with him. And he told me about last time, about how he left when I was a kid.”

Mom nods slowly, like I just answered a silent question in her head. She looks over at me and seems surprised to find that I’m crying. “Come here,” she says, patting the spot beside her.

I slide toward her, expecting her to yell at me some more, to rub it in my face that she was right about my dad. But instead, she reaches out and wraps her arms around me. “Your father loves you, Rachel. And I do too. You never have to doubt that, okay?”

“Okay,” I say. And even though hearing that doesn’t make everything right again, having my mom just be my mom, instead of Ms. Fix-It, makes me feel a little better. “Why didn’t you tell me that he’d left before?”

Mom sighs. “I thought about telling you, but the truth is, I didn’t want to remember. It was such a hard time for us. Your father ran off to Texas to work on a cattle ranch, and I thought he’d lost his mind. After a few weeks, he came back and promised he’d never do anything like that again. And for a while, things were really good. I convinced myself that his running away hadn’t meant anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it when he left this time? Then maybe I wouldn’t have kept hoping he’d come back.”

My mom looks at me with tears in her eyes. “You’re right. I should have. I thought I was protecting you, but I guess I only made things worse for you.” She starts crying so hard that it makes her entire body shake.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, putting my arms around her shoulders. “It’s not your fault.” And I realize as I say it that it’s true. Mom’s always tried to fix everything, but there’s no way she could have fixed Dad leaving. She wasn’t able to do it then, and she can’t do it now. Neither one of us can.

I expect Mom to sentence me to a year’s worth of embarrassing labor, but I guess she feels bad for me since she only grounds me for the rest of the school year. Unfortunately, that includes the Spring Dance. I feel like a jerk having to tell Andrew that I can’t go with him, but I decide to put it off for now. Maybe I can find a way to get out of my grounding and go to the dance after all.

When I see Caitlin in homeroom on Monday, she looks a little less miserable than she has the past few weeks. As Briana babbles on about softball, Caitlin glances over at me, and I dare to give her a tiny smile. She looks right through me before turning back to give Briana her full attention.

My stomach dips. Of course Caitlin won’t acknowledge me in school, especially not in front of Briana. She probably only spilled her guts to me on Saturday because she was too upset to care who she was talking to. It was stupid to think Caitlin Schubert and I had anything in common.

I spend the rest of the morning in total gloom. When I go to the Home Ec room during lunch, I just sit there with the apron on my lap. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like baking anything. I still have no idea what I’m going to make for the bake sale next Monday, and I’m starting to wonder if there’s any point in competing. Let Angela Bareli cheat her way to winning again. It isn’t going to bring my family back together or make Marisol forgive me.

Ms. Kennedy doesn’t ask what’s wrong, but she hands me a chocolate chip cookie and says, “You know I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I say. But the problem is, I don’t even know what I need. There isn’t any way to make my life go back to normal, not after everything that’s happened. And even Ms. Kennedy’s sympathetic smile isn’t comforting. In fact, it actually makes me feel worse.

I put aside the untouched cookie and rush out of the room. Even though I’ve never skipped class in my life, part of me wants to run out of the school and just keep going. Maybe then my heart will stop aching.

As I swing around the corner, I catch sight of someone at my locker. As I get closer, I realize the person is Briana, and she has something in her hands.

Oh, holy baked haddock. It’s the Dirt Diary. She has the diary, and she’s reading it.

“What are you doing?” I say.

She looks up, not even surprised, and smiles. “Rachel Lee,” she says. “You sure write some interesting things.”

“Give it back.” My mind is swirling. Did I write anything about my deal with Steve in the diary? No. At least that secret is safe.

“Sure.” She snaps the notebook shut and slips it back into my locker. “I read it all the way through already. Wait until I tell everyone what you’ve been saying about them.” She laughs. “I bet Steve will love to hear how you’ve been drooling over him. And Evan too.”

I feel my cheeks ignite. “You had no right to read that. It’s mine.”

She shrugs. “It’s not my fault your locker was just standing open when I walked by.”

Of course, it
is
her fault. If she hadn’t glued it shut, the janitor wouldn’t have had to pry it open, and then my locker would actually lock like it’s supposed to.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I say. “Why do you have to keep doing this stuff to me?”

She shrugs. “Because it’s too much fun.”

I stare at her, totally helpless. She’ll tell everyone about the things in my notebook, and everyone will hate me more than they already do. And, worst of all, Evan will think I’m some kind of stalker. I want to scream at her or shake her until her earrings fall out, but none of it will do any good. My pathetic excuse for a life is over.

Suddenly, another voice echoes down the hall: “Hey, Briana.”

I turn to find Caitlin standing behind me. There’s a spark in her eyes for the first time in weeks.

Briana lets out an impatient sigh. “There you are. I thought you’d ditched me.”

“I wish I had,” says Caitlin. “Years ago. Then I wouldn’t have to stand by and watch you pull off all your stupid pranks.”

Briana rolls her eyes. “You didn’t seem to care when I glued Rachel’s locker shut.”

“I figured one time couldn’t hurt,” says Caitlin. “But it’s getting old.”

“What happened to you?” Briana says. “You used to be fun. Now you’re like this moody lump all the time. I know there was all that stuff with your father, but you have to get over it sometime, don’t you?”

Caitlin shrugs. “I guess I finally figured out who my friends are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you going to be friends with freaks like Rachel Lee from now on?”

Caitlin folds her arms in front of her chest. She looks almost like her old self again. “It means that you either stop messing with people or I tell everyone about your bras.”

Briana gasps, her eyes widening. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes, I would,” says Caitlin. “If you breathe a word of what’s in Rachel’s notebook, I’ll make sure your secret gets all around school.”

The two of them stare each other down for a long moment, like some silent battle of wills. Then Caitlin gives me a little smile, whirls around, and stomps down the hall.

Instantly, Briana rushes past me. “Caitlin, wait!” she calls. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then both their footsteps fade away.

I stand there with my jaw practically on the floor. I can’t believe Caitlin Schubert actually stood up for me. I don’t know what she meant about Briana’s bras, but that doesn’t matter. All I care about is that Caitlin has a piece of dirt on Briana that’s so bad, I won’t have to worry about her torturing me again. Maybe Caitlin Schubert and I will never be friend material, but right now she feels like my best friend in the whole world.