Dear Diary [ON HOLD]

4

September, Tuesday 21

Dear diary,

Did you know riley means 'a luxurious or carefree existence'? At least that's what I found in the dictionary. Well, right now I don't exactly feel like I have any luxury right now. I really wanted to see Howie at school today, but Mom made me stay home from school and look after Kenny. Imagine! Just what I need, to be a hand servant for my little brother. I don't know what Mom was thinking when she made him stay home from school. He's left handed, he can write perfectly fine! Typical of Mom, really.

Kenny stayed in bed all day and whined and whined and whined. Eventually, I left him on his own and ambled downstairs to watch some TV. Kenny yelled from upstairs that he wanted to watch some TV too, so I had to haul the portable TV into his room. He insisted that I stay with him and watch Blue Peter with him till I got bored. I told him that I was going downstairs to make a sandwich.

I hadn't even been gone five minutes when Kenny called that he wanted a sandwich too, peanut butter and banana, no crusts. I spent ages cutting slices of bread into triangle shapes, just as he wanted, then took it up upstairs. But ole Kenny decided he wanted a chocolate milkshake to go with it too, so I had to got downstairs again to get him a glass. He spilled half of the milkshake all over his clothes and got all sticky, but he wouldn't let me change him. He watched TV for ages while I sat and dozed off in a chair. I guess I must have fallen asleep cos the next thing I knew, Kenny was shaking me awake and saying he had to pee. I had to help him out of bed and take him to the bathroom (he isn't even potty trained yet!!!) downstairs. Then I took him back to his room and collapsed on a seat.

Howie didn't come over, but he did call. He asked whether I'd come over to his house, so I told him I'd be there. I waited until Roxanne was home from cheer leading practice and literally begged her look after Kenny. She said yes after I'd promised to fork over my allowance for a week. There's this new Asian pear shampoo she's been mooning over, but she hasn't got the money for it. That's Roxanne for you. Apparently, drugstore-purchased shampoo is too infra dig for my fabulous sister - only the most expensive salon shampoo will do!

So I snuck out to Howie's house for a while, hours before Mom or Dad was home. When I rang the doorbell at his house, Howie's mom answered. She's a therapist. She let me in with this huge grin on her face, like she knew something I didn't. "Hey, Mrs. Barnes," I said. "Can I see Howie?"

"Of course you can, sweetie," She trilled. "Go on up, he's waiting for you."

I run up the stairs. Howie's door was wide open, so I let myself in. He was sitting on his bed with his earphones plugged in, his eyes shut. I took off my sneaker and tossed it right at his head. He caught it without opening his eyes, then tossed it over his shoulder. "Don't throw stuff at my head," He murmured. I dropped onto his bed and copied him, sitting cross legged. "Whatcha doing?" I asked.

"I'm meditating. It relieves stress."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you know about stress? You don't have teenage siblings."

"Yeah, I'm starting to go down on my knees and thank the heavens for that. Teenagers are mean. Roxanne told everyone that my hair looks like a a mop top and my clothes are too 'tacky'. I could have died."

I laughed. "Stop laughing," Howie mumbled. "You said I looked sexy."

I was laughing so hard I couldn't even speak. Howie got miffed. He wrestled me down and pinned my shoulders back on his bed. "Stop laughing at me, Riley. It's not even funny."

"I was teasing you, Howie, I can't believe you didn't figure that out," I giggled. "Come on, don't go all huffy on me."

His eyebrows furrowed. I reached up to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face and he went pink. There was a loud knock on the door then. We sprang away from each other just as the door opened. Howie's mom poked her head in the doorway. "Dinner's almost ready," She announced. "Do you want to stay for dinner, Riley?"

"Yes, please."

"Excellent. Now you two go wash up."

She turned to leave, then paused and patted the door. "Let's leave this open, alright?"

Howie blushed again. When we got downstairs for dinner, about three tons of food was spread on the table: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans and fried peppers. Then for dessert: apple pie and chocolate pudding with whipped cream. Back at home, I knew the rest of the family would be having boring spaghetti bolognese and boring pecan pie for desert.

Howie and I helped ourselves, but all his Mom had was a weeny little helping of mashed potatoes and an extremely thin slice of pie. Apparently, she was on a strict diet and didn't want to ruin her figure, but she already looked pretty good to me. My mom has a great figure too, but she's not bothered about keeping fit and stuff like that. Come to think of it, she's the exact polar opposite of Howie's mom.

After dinner, Howie said he'd walk me home. "Thanks for the dinner, Mrs Barnes," I said. She suddenly dimpled up, winking conspiratorially at Howie like they had this big secret going. His face turned red. "That's all right, Riley," She said. "Maybe we can do dinner with your family some time?"

"Yeah. Maybe," I shrugged.

The walk back home was pretty quiet. My hand kept bumping into his as we walked, coincidentally. Or so I thought. A minute later, he took my hand and gave it a little squeeze. I've got to admit, it felt kinda nice, holding his hand. It felt a bit clammy (his hand) though, so I could tell he was nervous. It was so weird. I mean, we're best friends, we've held hands thousands of times. But it felt different, somehow. Does that even make sense?

Well, I'll worry about that later. I've been putting off my maths homework for hours now and I've gotta go.