Leslie's Journal

Five

After school on Friday, I found out where his locker is. On the first floor in the south wing. Number 1124. Just my luck. It's miles away.

Spying on a guy's locker is tricky, because if he finds out, for sure he'll never want to see you again. But this morning I couldn't stop myself. All weekend I kept thinking that if I wasn't there first thing when Jason got to school, he'd meet some other girl and it'd be all over.

I tried to blend into the walls, walking really slowly up and down the corridor, pretending to read To kill a Mockingbird, and then stopping for some water at the drinking fountain. Was that dumb or what? I looked like a browner and I had to pee all morning.

To make matters worse, Jason didn't show up. He doesn't even seem to be in school today. Maybe he's had an accident. Maybe he's in the hospital. Maybe he's dying. Maybe he's switched schools. Or maybe I'm just being stupid. Which is probably more like it. I bet he's just skipping, which is what I'd be doing if I wasn't trying so hard to see him.

Jason, Jason, Jason. Love is a killer, especially if you can't talk to anyone about it. Like, if I tell Katie how I feel, she'll tell Ashley and Ashley'll tell the world. As for mom? Get real. When I'm suicidal she laughs it off as a "phase," and when I'm happy she gets suspicious.

I'm extra obsessed on account of I was looking forward to seeing Jason after my crummy weekend. It was Dad's turn to have me, only he was busy Saturday. Fine. He's always busy Saturday, working overtime, he says, since mom is out to nail him in the divorce. (Which she says is a dirty lie, but that's another story.)

To cut it short, Dad picks me up Sunday at about two o'clock and tells me today is going to be really special - he has a surprise for me at his apartment. As we drive out to Oakville, I'm thinking, "Great, he's finally fixed his VCR so we can watch movies instead of being stuck staring at each other over buckets of cold Chinese takeout."

Well, the VCR isn't the surprise. When he opens the door, I see a couple of empty packing boxes in the hallway, and there's this strange smell of air freshener. Then Dad calls out, "We're home," and all of a sudden SHE bounces in from the bedroom looking like a Colgate commercial.

Her name is Brenda. I know that without anyone saying, because Mom and Dad used to fight about her all the time before they split u. And now I get to see her, all cute and perky, this overgrown cheerleader out to make a good impression. "Hi," she says, and out comes her hand like she actually expects me to shake it.

"This is the surprise?" I glare at Dad.

Brenda ignores what I think is a pretty obvious signal. "You must be Leslie," she beams.

"And you must be the Bitch," I reply.

Brenda looks like someone just slapped her - if only! - and Dad's ears go red. As per usual, he knows he should say something but can't figure out what. All he can manage is a blustery, "Leslie..."

"No, Dave, it's all right." Brenda pats his arm. "I understand."

Dad settles down and tries his fatherly bit. "Leslie, Brenda's accepted my invitation to move in."

I look at the boxes. I sniff the air. "No kidding."

And now my Dad put his arm around her. My stomach's dissolving.

As for Brenda, she's from another planet. "I'd like to be your friend," she bubbles.

I want to explode, but I don't. Instead, I pin her with my eyes, smile and say in a sweet little voice: "Is that so? Well, if you'd like to be my friend, perhaps you could tell me why you broke up my family and ruined my life?"

"Leslie! You will apologize!" Dad shouts.

"Eat shit!"

Dad looks at Brenda like a deer caught in the headlights. "I'm sorry. I should have told her in the car." The car? He should have told me in the car? Is this my father?

"Take me home! Now!"

I look out the window the whole way back. I don't say a word. All those Saturdays he was so busy with "overtime." What a joke.

Dad stops outside my apartment building. As I open the car door, I hear him clear his throat. Here it comes.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Leslie."

"Is that a fact."

"You embarrassed me. And you embarrassed yourself."

"Whatever." I get out of the car and head up the walk.

"Come back here, young lady! I'm not finished!"

"Oh yes, you are," I think and keep going, running as fast as I can. I get to the elevator, shoot upstairs. No way he'll follow me. He doesn't have the guts.

"Back so early?" Mom asks. She tries to act casual, but I know she's happy. She's always happy when I come back early. It means I'm mad at Dad. Well, I'm mad at her too. I slam my door, hurl myself on the bed and sob.

There's a little knock. "Honey?"

"Go away."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"That crying doesn't sound like nothing."

"Just leave me alone."

Leave me alone. That's not asking too much, is it? But does she? No! She opens the door! She starts to come in!

"Honey-"

"I... SAID... TO... LEAVE... ME... ALONE!!!" And I throw my hairbrush at her. Why does she have to make everything so hard?

I hate this life.

And then I think of Jason. Beautiful, beautiful Jason with his deep blue eyes and curly brown hair. I picture us gunning down some deserted highway on his motorcycle, me holding on tight around his waist.

Who am I kidding? I'm in love with some guy who probably doesn't even remember I exist.