The Lilac Diaries | ONC 2022

Chapter 2

Ireland

. . .

Panic started to sweep through my body as I took out the remaining notebooks and pencils from my backpack. 

But still, my diary was nowhere to be seen. 

I had dug through my entire backpack, looking in every nook and cranny I could think of that it would be. I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. It'll be ok, I'll just retrace my steps tomorrow and find it. 

I sighed, sitting on the navy blue beanie couch in my room, and looked up at the fan spin round and round. 

When I was 10 years old, my dad had started giving me diaries for my birthday with just enough room to write in for the whole year. I truthfully hated them at first because I had thought it was stupid, but now I had become obsessed with them. It was a way to look back and remember everything that happened. I would be able to have all of my memories locked away for me to look back on whenever I wanted. And instead of trying to find an exciting memory to tell my kids, I could just hand them one of my journals, and they would be able to experience everything I had experienced in the exact same way. They were perfect.

I instantly became bored after I was sitting there for a few more minutes, and was itching to write how my day had gone. I couldn't believe I forgot my diary at school. I had never been that careless before, and I had written in it everyday since the beginning of the year. I guess I'll just have to write twice the amount I usually do to make up for not writing in it today.

Ugh, this was so annoying. I hated when my schedules were messed up. Especially when it was my fault they were ruined.

I let out a deep groan as I grabbed my phone off my night stand, and sat back down in my beanie chair. I scrolled through the people who snapped me last; none of them people who I wanted to strike up a conversation with, and decided that I didn't feel like answering any of them. 

"Derek, what are we eating tonight?" I called out to my brother, pulling up Instagram to hopefully cure my boredom instead.

As I continued to scroll through my phone, there was no response and the house remained silent. 

I quickly got up and walked into my older brother's room, quickly realizing that he wasn't there. Neither one of my parents were home either, and I rolled my eyes. 

What a surprise. 

Instead of being a normal teenager and marveling over the fact that I was home alone, I screamed out in frustration and called up my extremely clingy and annoying 'friend', Claudia. 

"Hey Claudia." I greeted, noting that I had dropped as low as to call one of my backup friends.

"Omg, hey Ireland!" She squealed, making me roll my eyes, "It's actually such a coincidence that you called. I was about to bring some banana bread over because I made way too much."

I tried not to hide my annoyance that she forgot I hated banana bread, "No, it's fine. I was actually just wondering if you knew of any parties that were happening? My parents aren't home so I could literally go anywhere."

Claudia was honestly only my friend because she had so many connections. I don't know how she did it, but she somehow has landed into everyone's good graces and is constantly in on the inner circle of social gatherings. 

"You know that it's a school night, right? The only parties that would be happening are college ones." I could hear her munching on something that I presumed was banana bread.

"Are you sure?" I desperately needed a way to aid the loneliness that was starting to creep up, and being around people was the only way to fix it. 

"Yep. Pretty sure. Unless you wanted to throw a party, there's literally nothing going on today, aside from study groups." Claudia responded as I wrinkled my nose at the word 'study' and quickly tried to think of what to do.

I sighed, "Ok, thanks anyways. See you tomorrow."

After we hung up an idea sparked up in my mind that made me giddy with excitement. 

I was going to ride my bike. 

Yes, that might seem like nothing and an utterly boring activity for some people, but for me riding bikes made me feel like I was the main character. I could pretend that I was in any coming of age movie just by sitting on an old piece of metal with a pretty paint job. 

I snatched a random book out of my bookcase and threw it into my tiny light purple backpack as I ran down the stairs to grab any other essentials that I needed to ride my bike to the park in my neighborhood. When I saw my old lilac colored bike hidden in the back of the garage, I started to realize that I might have a tiny obsession with the color purple. 

Oh well.

I laughed as I sat on it remembering all the times my brother and I went on long bike rides during the summer with music blasting from his small speaker he kept in his pocket. I would have to convince him to ride with me again sometime, if he wasn't too busy. 

. . .

By the time I got to the park, there was hardly anyone there, probably on their way back home for dinner. 

I pulled up next to a bench and plopped down pulling out the random book I was determined to read. Thankfully the sun wasn't setting yet, so I still had sunlight to read the words on the pages.

It was slightly windy, and I welcomed the breeze as it blew my hair around, making me smile. I never understood people who wanted to hole up and stay in their house all day when you could be outside enjoying the sun instead. 

Eventually I got bored of reading the book that I realized was about pre-parental tips, (my mom must have stuck a bunch of her old books in my bookcase) and decided that I would take a walk around the park before I biked back to my house to endure more pain and suffering from loneliness.

The sun was finally starting to set, and I spotted a figure that was sitting at one of the picnic tables under the small pavilion near the bathrooms. 

I gulped, gaining the courage to walk past whoever it was in order to make it back to my bike that I placed a few inches away. 

As I walked past the pavilion, I locked eyes with the guy that was sitting there and my jaw almost dropped out of shock. 

Innocently sitting there was none other than Lazlo Millgrove, the poor boy I couldn't help but tease relentlessly. I was about to quickly turn and walk away to pretend that I didn't recognize him when I realized what he was hunching over. 

I slowed to a halt, wondering if my eyes were deceiving me or not. It had to be a mistake. My eyes had to be playing tricks on me. But they weren't. 

Lazlo Millgrove had my diary, with the one secret that was supposed to never get out.