Entry 2: Little Pink Book
Why am I such an idiot?
What kind of a moron takes their most confidential items out in public? Me apparently. After falling into one of my usual lovesick dazes from taking a piece of my beloved's hair, I felt I had everything I needed to make that diary complete. Well, almost everything. There was still the matter of signing my name. Yep, you heard me. My insecure self just had to be sure to take credit for the last thing I would EVER want the world to lay eyes on.
H is for the head I'd like to punt. E is for every time I see the little runt. L is longing for our first kiss. G is for how good that longing is. A is for Arnold.
After I so boldly finished setting myself up for one of the most humiliating moments of my life, I began to make my way off the bus. Of course, someone just HAD to get in my way…
"One side moron!"
Rather than taking a moment to make sure my most prized possession had made it into my bag safely, I continued to daydream about my fantasies with my beloved one day becoming a reality…
Anxious to smell the lock of my beloved's hair yet again, I sat on my porch to reach for my book. I searched desperately through my things, unable to find it until an awful memory came back to me.
Having realized I dropped the book on top of my beloved's stack of personal belongings, I raced for his house, only to find he and tall hairboy had already buried their faces into my written work!
"Why? Why did I sign my name? I was too bold! Those poems weren't meant to be read until I'm dead and buried! And worms have consumed my flesh! Arnold must NEVER see that last page!"
Nothing was going to stop me from saving whatever shred of dignity remained inside of me! I climbed his fire escape in the hopes of seeing what those two geeks may have in store for my precious book they just couldn't seem to keep their grubby paws off of.
Having climbed to the top of the roof, I feel through the ceiling to realize I was in my beloved's room for the first time ever! Remote controlled lights, jazz music, and a pillow that withheld the sweet scent of his hair. One day I will find out what shampoo he uses!
It was then I caught sight of the book on his bookshelf on the other side of the room. Of course, what should happen the moment I went for it?
"I don't know Arnold. Abner's a lousy detective."
There I sat in football head's closet, with no choice but to spend hours watching him and tall hairboy assume doing a bunch of lame lab experiments would actually give them the answer to who the book belonged to? Pttss...what a couple of dweebs!
The only test they did worth trying out was comparing handwriting from the yearbook signatures. Of course, they didn't feel the need to waste their time comparing my name to it. Arnold wouldn't dream of me having feelings for him anymore than I would expect him to believe it. I guess I had nothing to worry about.
Did their failure of test after test send them the message they should do something else?! Pttss...of course not.
"Let's go down to Slausens and get an ice cream cone."
"Yeah I could go for some ice cream...but then again."
"Ahh come on."
"Look we're both tired. I'm just going to go right to bed."
So, did I get the book back and return home in my comfortable bed? What do YOU think einstein? Having spent all night in Arnold's closet, lucky he didn't look in it the next morning, I followed him to school the next day to find him ONCE AGAIN reading the book for everyone!
Page by page the laughter grew from those pathetic excuses for friends of ours. Enough was enough! Being anonymously mocked and ridiculed was unbearable enough. As I listened to him read through my name on the final page, my nerves took over me. I tore out the page to make spit wad with which I made a perfect shoot at football head!
"Ow! What was that for?"
"For spitball of the day, football head!"
While my book remains in his hands, my secret is now safe. Plus, I got to keep the lock of his hair I cut off. Oohhh ~
