Disclaimer : Not mine
Dear Diary,
I haven't written in you for a year, barely touched you for the same. I thought I'd grown out of such things, I thought now that I had Manny I wouldn't need you anymore (you know who Manny is, don't you? It seems like forever since I've known her and it can't even be a year that we have been real friends).
I'm writing to you now as a last resort, cuz I can't even talk to Manny about this, because, well, you'll see. I don't know what I even want to say.
I think too much, I guess that's is what this is all about. I can't concentrate on anything anymore. I daydream, I suppose, you could call it, but I think so much that I forget even tiny little things that are really too obvious to think about. Like… in math, the other day, I was sort of thinking about how creepy Michael who sits in front of me is, and how I don't know what Manny sees in Spinner, and then I just kind of drifted into this idea that sort of went like, "There's always Manny" and then "Hello, Manny is a girl."
I don't think that makes sense. It didn't in my head either.
The thing is, that's not where it ends, either. Last week we went to Emma's party… yeah, that Emma, the one I've always hated. I don't know why I went. Well, yes, actually, I do, it's because Manny begged me to go. And I ended up sneaking away from the others and sitting in the garden, I guess I just don't like parties. Anyone would think I was still a kid, too young for drinking and stuff, but I don't know, sometimes I just feel like it's the other way around, that I'm miles older than any of them and I just get so tired of everything. So I just ended up sitting there thinking about every single thing in the world, but I couldn't really concentrate on anything and then I was thinking how weird it is about what I thought about Manny the other day, and I don't know, I guess I'd had too much to drink or something because then I just kept thinking… about girls. Like, not really. Only because I told myself not to and because I'd had a bit to drink. I can't tell you what I ended thinking, because I don't know because I was trying so hard to stop it.
This makes no sense. I don't know why I'm saying this really. I feel uncomfortable writing this. But if I don't say it to you, who else can I say it to? It's running circles in my head and it needs to get out somewhere.
So… so then Emma came and found me and said I was ruining her party by 'sulking' outside. I wish I was brave enough to talk back to her, she really bugs me sometimes with the way she talks to people. I mean, she could've asked if I was okay. I felt bad when I went in though cuz Manny had had loads to drink by the looks of it, she was giggling all over the place. And then somebody (one of those girls that all look the same, I can't be expected to remember all of their names) suggested we play Truth or Dare. They picked on Manny first and didn't give her a chance to say truth or dare, they just picked dare cuz they knew she was drunk enough to do it. Emma said, "I dare you to kiss one of us," all of a sudden. I really hate her, it's like she can read my mind and know the worst thing to say. Manny giggled even more and I don't really know what I was thinking then, the part of me that just likes to rebel against everything I feel was fighting to be heard and I sort of looked at her and she suddenly lurched at me…
I don't know… it all happened to quickly. I don't know if it counts as snogging cuz I didn't really do anything back. She was all sticky and she tasted of vodka and she was still giggling… but it wasn't really any different from kissing boys, you know? I suppose it wouldn't be, really, I don't know what I expected it to be like. I never really thought about it, I suppose. I just thought it would be different, somehow. So that was it.
My dad came to pick us up about half an hour later and when we were in the car, Manny started sobbing for no reason. She wouldn't look at me though, just kept crying all over my shoulder. I was worried my dad would be cross with us, and go and talk to Manny's dad or something but he said I clearly hadn't had much to drink and he wasn't going to interfere about Manny or anything, but that I should look after her next time. I don't think there will be a next time; I don't think I want to go to a party ever again. She got out the car without looking at me too, and ran in.
That was Saturday. And now it's Monday night. Emma told everyone at school, of course. Manny laughed it off, told everyone it was Emma's little game. She's even said to me, "the things Emma comes up with", but she said it really quickly and then changed the subject.
She's right to forget about it. It was a stupid thing that happened because she was drunk and because Emma's a bitch and because I confuse myself too easily. It isn't worth talking about, we should just pretend it never happened.
But I can't stop thinking about it. I even dreamed about it last night. And we've got mocks all this week and Manny has to sit in front of me and so I just end up staring at her and I'm sure she can tell, and Emma sits to my left and she stares at me with this smirk on her face like she knows exactly how much this is bothering me.
If Manny were a boy, I'd doodle her name on my exercise books and keep my hand over them so she wouldn't see, but hope she would really. And Emma would say, "are you two getting together, or not?" and JT or somebody would go and tell Manny that I'd like to go on a date with her, and then maybe Manny would pass me a note in math covered in little hearts. If Manny were a boy, I'd say I was in love.
But Manny is a girl. And so I'll ignore myself, I'll write everything in here till I run out of things to say and then I'll burn it and I'll keep talking to Manny about hair clips and shoes and cute boys in the year above and eventually it'll all go away. It's just a phase. I've read about it in teen magazines. You have them for a little while when you're fourteen/fifteen and then they go away. It means you've got millions of hormones going crazy. It means you're normal (even if it doesn't feel like it).
Goodnight, diary, I don't know if I'll write again. I should, but I don't like what I have to say.
Liberty
