I can feel her closing up. She's been acting weird lately. So shut up inside of herself. There are so many subject that are now touchy to her. If I say one thing wrong, she hides away in her shell again. I am afraid that I am losing of my best friends and I am so helpless to stop it. I'm just trying to help her. And now, she isn't even letting me do that.
I put my pencil down and stare at the words I had just written. Even though the page was full, the writing looked so blank. And it might have well been. My friend, Nicole, had been closing herself off lately and I was getting worried. She refused to listen when I tried to bring it to her attention, but now, my attempts are getting more desperate. She needs to hear what I have to say, even if she doesn't want to.
The next day on the bus:
I take my normal seat next to sho in the front of the bus, across from Nicole and Marche. Leon and Covey sit in the seat behind us.
I silently listen to the conversations my friend are having around me. It just seems so pointless to add myself into one. But sho continues to prattle on uselessly into my ears, not seeming to care if I am actually listening. I am a little bit, but I have other things on my mind.
I strain my ears lightly to hear what Marche is saying to Nicole. She, like me, remains silent, nodding every now and then or giving an affirmative grunt. This is so unlike her. I'm always telling her to calm down, but right now I want nothing more than to tell her to be hyper.
Marche must have come to the same conclusion, because the next thing he says is, "Nicole are you listening? This is really important! What's with you today?"
She blushes and smiles apologetically, "Sorry, must have zoned out, there."
This isn't unusual. Nicole is always zoning out. But the excuse struck me as weird. She's been using a lot lately. More than usual.
No. Nicole is hiding something, but I just need to know what.
The bus stops, cutting the engine. This interrupts my train of thoughts about Nicole's ailment. But I am left with one question: what's bothering her?
Kids file into a neat line, going down to the front of the bus. Sho and Marche are in front of me and Leon and Covey are in front of them. I am all the way at the back of the line. Everyone get off, and I am left alone with Nicole. Nicole is still gathering her stuff inside of the seat.
"Go on," I say, when she's ready. She smiles and gets off the bus.
I take a look at her seat and notice that she forgot something.
Her diary.