AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I almost choke again because Dane’s standing right there in all his glory, yet Patty can’t see because he’s her brother. Instead, I just blush again and splash some water at my friend.
“It’s nothing,” I say before doggy-paddling towards the deep end. “Bet you can’t catch me!”
We both giggle as we try to get to the other side of the pool as soon as possible, but I’m grateful for the distraction because if Patty knew what I was thinking about her brother, she might never speak to me again.
5
Zoe
Fortunately, nothing crazy happened at the Restons’ party. Now, I’m back home, exhausted, sun-struck, and still kind of amped up. I didn’t even talk to Dane, and yet my body feels like a live wire because he was there.
Now though, I can relax. I am sitting on the backyard patio with my parents. Three lounge chairs with large cushy bottoms encircle a small table, and the table has an electric fire pit built in the center. Tonight, the flames sway steadily above the surface, their reflections dancing in the stone bed that holds them.
There are still a few random bursts of fireworks, but otherwise, the world seems to be utterly at peace. Besides the crackling of the fire, it’s primarily the singing of the crickets that fills the air tonight.
We break the silence with our stories from today. Mine are of the Restons’ party and theirs of my Uncle Jimmy’s gathering. It seems we have all had eventful days.
“And then, your dad walked by and pushed your Uncle Jimmy right in the pool! Oh, what a kick it was to see my big brother like that! His arms were flailing above his head, a preposterous expression on his face. And then splash!” June bends over, laughing as she relives this moment.
“Hey, he had it coming,” my dad defends himself. “He plopped that piece of cake right into my face! I got frosting in my beard.”
I laugh at their stories. My family members are all silly children at heart and our parties are always a great time. I’m a little bummed I missed this one, but it was worth it to go to the Restons’ pool party instead. Not only did I get to see Dane, but I had a really good time too.
“I’m glad we had a great time at our respective parties, but I’m glad we got to spend time together too,” I say to my parents while getting up from my lounge chair. “But now, I’m exhausted. I’m going to head to bed. Good night, everyone.”
“Okay sweetie, I’m glad you had fun today,” says my dad, sipping from his glass of homemade sweet tea.
“Goodnight Zoe!” my mom says as I make my way to the back door. “Sleep tight, honey. Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”
I wave at them over my shoulder and then plod up the stairs like a tired elephant. I’m exhausted, but I’m also impatient to write about seeing Dane today. We didn’t really talk at the party, but I do want to record my thoughts and think back to the heated stare he gave me when I took off my cover-up. That wasn’t my imagination, right?
Oh, tonight’s journal is going to be so good. Maybe I’ll even do some more sketches of him. That was really fun last time.
I head into my room with Cocoa by my side and shut the door behind me. I change into a big t-shirt and pajama shorts and get to setting the mood. Chill music, check. Lights dimmed, check. Candles burning, check.
Then, I open my bedside drawer to get my diary. No check.
What? Where is it? I’m momentarily shocked when it isn’t there, but I remember that the last time I wrote in it was when my mom barged in asking about baking cookies. In a panic, I shoved it in the bag under my bed.
Clambering out of bed, I peer beneath the mattress. No bag. Strange. Oh wait. I took that bag to the party today with a spare change of clothes. I forgot the journal was even there, and just stuffed all my clothes, my sunblock, my hat and towel on top of it. No biggie. I spy the bag sitting on my desk chair and plop back onto my mattress. I begin digging through my belongings in search of my diary.
But where is it? Dozens of items fly out, including an old chapstick, a bottle of water, and a bunch of crumpled clothes. With horror, I paw again inside the bag, frantically looking for my diary.
Oh my god. Why isn’t it in my bag? I am one hundred percent sure that this is the bag I put it in!
Desperately, I dump the bag over on the floor to be certain I’m not just missing my journal somehow. But nope, among all the scrambled contents, it’s not there.
