Fairy Tale Gone Wrong by Sabrina Smith (open ebook txt) 📕

February 17, 2011
Dear Diary,
I saw him yesterday, at the study group. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be in Arizona. I guess I should have connected the dots…the way he kept asking if I would be at the study group…how he kept bugging me with that ever present “secret”. He said he’d tell me if I went. I automatically assumed he meant he’d message me on the forum, which is kind of dumb, come to think of it. He did say “if you go to the study group I’ll tell you the secret”. How dense could I be? I had a sneaking suspicion, but didn’t really think about it very much.
I wasn’t supposed to go to the study group. Dad didn’t have any work, and I was depending on him for a ride to Anchorage. When he did get a job, the night before, it was in Eagle River. A half hour away from where I needed to be. So, resigning myself to my fate, thinking how it wasn’t too bad that I couldn’t go because he wouldn’t be there, I went to sleep the night before, not knowing what the next day would bring.
I woke up late. Again. It was 8:06 a.m. when a voice pierced my already half-forgotten dream. “Juliet! You’re missing class!” I bolted upright, glance at the clock, then scrambled to grab the laptop, stumbling over myself in my haste to get it to my mom so she could enter the password. After logging in to the U.S. History classroom, I sat in my bed with the laptop where it belongs; on my lap. While Ben asked questions, my mind wandered. I wasn’t focused. I hadn’t read the readings, making the usually enjoyable class seem to drag on forever. They were talking about the Watergate. I was private messaging Cecilia while being very aware that he was late for class. 20 minutes before class ended he popped in, his name sending butterflies to flight inside my stomach. Not the most pleasant feeling in the world. The rest of class wasn’t very eventful. Get it? We were discussing the events during the 1960’s? Get it? Okay, lame joke…moving on.
After History, I logged into the Lit classroom. He was there, on time, like always. I was zoned out, waiting for class to start, checking the forums for new posts, when a mic turned on and someone started speaking. I recognized his voice immediately, as it always sends chills down my spine and makes my stomach flutter. “Hey, okay, whoever is going to the study group today, the radio espresso you are planning to go to doesn’t have internet right now. Just so you know.”
My first thought was that’s weird, how does he know? Well, Cee had the same thought. And how would you know that? Cee had typed into the chat box. Right before he said it, everything clicked into place in my mind, realization dawning, “Well, because I am right across the street.”
I immediately start typing a message into the chat box: *dances in circles* I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I was right, I was right! While he and Ben start in on a debate about Wi-Fi, Cee private messaged me.
Cee: When did he get home?
Me: Sometime last night
Suddenly I realized something. He was going to be at the study group. And I wasn’t. Crap. The rest of the class we talked about an essay we had read that Henry Adams wrote. Something about education and the world today. I think. I was very distracted. He kept getting on mic. Cee and I were private messaging, exchanging inside jokes. Or, one inside joke. I had written this poem the night before, and showed it to Cee:
Every time I see your face,
Every time I hear your voice,
I wanna hold you close,
Wanna take back my choice.
But I know I can’t,
Even if I wanted to,
I have to keep my word,
I have to follow through.
Why did I do that to you?
Why would I do it to me?
Why is God saying no?
Or am I not listening?
Wish I could be unconfused,
Wish I could know what to do,
I wish for many things,
But all I really want is you.
You.
All I really want is you.
So, every time he would get on mic, I would say something like No!! Don’t let him get on mic! Turn it off! To which Cee would predictably respond with *giggle snort* or *laughing head off* or just ;). After class ended, I went immediately to the forums, where I sent a message to Cee with the legend:
I am bored.
The UN is boring.
You guys are boring.
You left me.
To die.
Here in the valley.
Under a mountain of school work.
No, this is not a poem.
But it might turn into one.
Just be warned.
Awaiting her answer, I changed over the laundry, adding another basket to the two already bulging baskets sitting by the railing, waiting to be folded. Hurrying back to the computer, I find two messages from Cee. One where she was pleading for forgiveness saying how sorry she was that I couldn’t be there and then another informing me that he said hi. Of course, I respond immediately. Like a dog to his master’s call. (that was a little cynical, wasn’t it?) After chatting for a bit, I go to straighten my hair. The computer was in the bathroom with me, awaiting Cee’s next message, when my mom knocked on the door. Startled, I grabbed the computer and…well…I hid it. Yeah, yeah, I know, bad Juliet. But I did. Get over it. Okay, so she knocked on the door and said she needed to take a shower, because she was going into Anchorage to take my cousin’s senior pictures.
Cha-ching.
I instantly spread a plan in front of my mom. If I fold those three ginormous piles of clothes, put them away, and clean my laundry room, could I pretty please get a ride to the study group? Her answer? Yes. On one condition. I have to take my baby sister, Liberty (aged 9 months) with me to the study group. My response? I WILL DO IT!
And did I do it. I flew around the house, folding laundry at a mile a minute, washing Libby’s face, getting her dressed, placing folded laundry in their owner’s drawers, and changing, all in an hour. Am I amazing? Yes I am.
In the car on the way to the study group, my mom turns on Pandora on her iPhone, and asked how to spell “Colbie Caillat”. Me? I was super confused as to how she even knows about Colbie Caillat, let alone wants to listen to her. After seeing my mom search “Coby” instead of “Colbie” I took the phone away from her and typed in the name, made the station, and connected the cord. Yeah, I was a little impatient to be going. After all, Cee would be leaving the study group in an hour and a half. And she’s the one I wanted to see. Mostly. Oh shut up. I know, get over yourself Juliet. Whatever.
Anyway, we stopped and got Taco Bell, and then FINALLY headed to Anchorage. The drive there was…uneventful. We didn’t do much. Well, okay, there’s one thing that happened. The conversation is as follows:
Mom: So who’s at the study group?
Me: Cee’s there, Ben’s there, Avery is supposed to be there, and Wesley got back last night, so he’s there.
Mom: I don’t think you can go.
Me: WHY?
Mom: Because Wesley’s going.
Me: SO?
Mom: *cracks up laughing* I just love doing that!
Me: That’s not funny…
Yeah. The he I have been referring to? His name is Wesley. Anyway, my mom teases me a lot about him. Gets annoying. Really annoying.
So, we get to the radio espresso, and I go in to “see who’s there and ask when they are leaving”. My attempt to sneak up on them? Fail. Epic fail. Avery and Cee glanced at me before I could get half way to the table, and that triggered Ben and Wesley to…look at me. (Insert fluttery stomach here). So, after a hug from Cee and an assessment of who was there and when they were leaving, I ran outside to grab Liberty, the diaper bag, and my messenger bag from the car. When I walk back in, they had set up a chair for me to sit on. Now, for the part I have been leading up to.
The Study Group.
I arrived, and I sat down. And guess what happened?
NOTHING.
Silence.
Seriously guys? I have been anticipating this for the last three hours!
When we finally started talking, Wesley kept staring at me…it was awkward…I kept looking away, avoiding eye contact…you could feel the tension between us. Cee, and even Ben, told me later that they noticed.
Wesley got really tan down in Hawaii and Arizona. His skin was a kind of coppery color. Next to him sat Ben, pale as night. It was pretty funny, looking at the contrast. Ben’s tall, with short dirty blonde/brown hair, and pale skin. Then you have Wesley, with dark long (ish) hair, tan skin, and, well, short. Then on the other side of the table, you’ve got Avery and Cee. Avery looks kind of like me. Except, well…she’s tall. And gorgeous. And I’m short. And…not. So I guess the only similarity is that we both have brown hair, we’re skinny, and we are very hyper. Then you have Cee. She’s kind of got her own style going on. Beautiful ballerina. That’s all I have to say about her.
How did I get on this subject? Oh yeah. Wesley. Anyway, this day inspired these two poems:
It was awkward and strange,
Seeing you there,
It’s been awhile since we talked,
I tried not to stare.
I avoided eye contact,
And looking your way,
I hope I wasn’t rude,
I had nothing to say.
The silence was strained,
Tension in the air,
Wishing I hadn’t said no,
Wishing I didn’t have to care.
I hate emotions,
So stupid and thoughtless,
Why not get rid of them,
They do nothing for us.
They create drama,
And play with your mind,
Why don’t we dump them,
And leave them behind.
They can sit there alone,
In a depressing hole,
Bottled up and alone,
Deep within my soul.
People say it’s unhealthy,
Not good to do,
But I’ll do it anyway,
So I won’t feel pain seeing you.
Alas, it’s not possible,
It’s still awkward and strange,
Even if it's for the better,
My view point won't change...
Yeah. I’m head over heels in love with him. (Insert face palm here). And I have absolutely no idea what to do about it. You would think I would tell him, right? Of course, that’s the first thought anyone would have. But there’s a problem. Being 14 while he’s almost 16? It doesn’t work out too well. Especially after you pretty much rejected him. Like I did. When he told me he loved me. (Insert banging of head here) I feel so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So STUPID. I know, you think I’m overreacting right now. But you don’t know how stupid I have been.
Last night I found out that