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None of that matters anymore because I’m going to have to move after this.
As soon as Dr. Hawthorne opens the diary to one of the many entries that feature him, I’ll need to crawl into a hole forever.
Tapping my forehead, I pace around my small living room.
I must have dropped my diary when the elevator lurched to a dead stop between the sixth and seventh floors. It’s the second time that’s happened while I’ve been in it. Both times, it went pitch dark for a few seconds before it started back up again.
I had my hands full of groceries, my backpack, and my phone. I’d tucked the diary under my arm after I added a new entry as I sat on a bench under a lamppost a block from here.
I stopped there to go to a fresh fruit market because they have the best blueberries in the city.
When I noticed the vendor was packing up for the day, I rushed over with my already bought grocery staples in hand, paid him, and shoved the plastic container of blueberries into one of the bags.
Then I walked home, got on the elevator, and held tightly to everything. Or I thought I did.
Once I got inside my apartment, I dumped everything on my kitchen table. I put the groceries away before jumping in the shower.
I had no idea my diary never made it out of the elevator with me.
Damn my earbuds all to hell because if I weren’t listening to an audiobook version of the newest release by my all-time favorite neuroscientist, I would have heard the sound of my diary hitting the floor when the elevator stopped abruptly.
It’s big enough to make a noticeable thud. I should know. I’ve dropped it more than once.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself with my hands pressed against the side of my head. “Fuck, Faith. Now what?”
I could go over and ask for it back. If I do that now, there’s a good chance that he won’t get far enough into it to reach the entries that involve him.
I’ve been writing in that diary since I was sixteen.
It contains five years of my secret truths and confessions.
But, Dr. Hawthorne would know that I was spying on him through the peephole in my door.
I rack my brain, trying to remember if I revealed my name in any part of the diary. I’ve always closed every entry with my initials.
This is the first time in my life that I’m grateful for the F.U. moniker because maybe, just maybe, he’ll assume it’s supposed to mean Fuck You, and he won’t tie it to me.
How could he?
He doesn’t even know my name.
I spin around when I hear the sound of a door slamming from the hallway.
Sprinting across the floor, I press an eye to the peephole just in time to see Roman on his way to the elevator with Dr. Hawthorne following him.
“Good luck with your patient,” Roman says over his shoulder. “I hope it’s not an all-nighter.”
“You and me both,” Dr. Hawthorne responds as they disappear from my view.
I sigh as my stomach twists into a nervous knot.
I was hit with a one-two knock out punch tonight.
Not only did my crush find my diary, but he did it on his way home from a date.
I heard his brother asking about it as I stared in horror at my diary clutched tightly in his hand.
I turn around and slide my back down my door until my ass hits the floor.
Since breaking into Dr. Hawthorne’s apartment to get my diary isn’t an option, my only hope is that he drops it off at the doorman’s desk tomorrow for the building’s lost and found box.
That’s the only way I’m going to get back my most treasured possession.
Chapter Eight
Faith
Just as I drop my toothbrush back into its holder, there’s a knock at my apartment door.
I glance to where I set my phone on the bathroom counter. Tapping a fingertip over the screen, I see the time.
It’s almost eight a.m., so I know it’s Gwynn.
She’s coming over so we can quiz each other before we head to Professor Stein’s class.
This last minute study session was my best friend’s idea. When she texted me late last night to suggest it, I was pacing the floor, trying to figure out a way to get my diary back.
I still only see one solution, and that’s to wait until Dr. Hawthorne gives it to one of the doormen.
I smooth my hands over the thighs of the faded jeans I’m wearing. It’s all about comfort for me when I have a full day of classes scheduled. That’s why I chose to wear the white sweatshirt Arya sent me. A huge pink heart is printed on the front of it.
In the package it arrived in was a note that made me cry.
