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But a promise is a promise. I stayed put.

I cornered Bo later. Just before we left.

I’m meeting him Friday. After his shift.

Monday 3/30

homeroom

Why homeroom?

It’s useless and stupid. Especially when you have an ugly, boring teacher like Mr. Leavitt. They should abolish it and let 1st-period teachers take attendance, so we can all get fifteen more minutes’ beauty sleep.

I’m in a fighting mood today.

Brock was waiting for me at my locker this morning. He said he heard Pete talking about me.

About our date. He called Pete a liar, and they almost got into a fight.

All over itty-bitty me.

Puh-leeze.

I mean, talk about yesterday’s news.

I should have told him to take a hike. But I didn’t have the heart.

So I just said I wasn’t seeing Pete anymore and if he knew what was god for him he wouldn’t bug me about who I decided to go out with. And I marched off to homeroom.

Nobody pushes me around.

lunch

I should have cut school today.

I do not need this grief.

WHAT AM I, PROPERTY?

I do not belong to anyone.

Now Pete’s all upset. Brock told him that I said we weren’t going steady anymore.

Who ever said we were going steady in the first place? Because of one date?

These are high school guys. They’re not supposed to act like babies.

They go out with lots of girls. But when the situation is reversed, they freak out.

Get a life!

I am fed up.

I am giving up boys.

After Friday.

I’ll give Bo a chance.

7:37 P.M.

I did not go straight home after school today. I hung around with Ducky, driving around, listening to him stress about his first day of work tomorrow, calming him down.

He dropped me off at home. As I was snacking and looking at the mail, the phone rang.

It was Dawn. Calling me from the hospital.

From Mom’s room.

She was hoping to reach Dad. Because Mom wanted to talk to him.

I asked what she was doing there.

“Just visiting,” she replied.

Okay. Cool.

There is nothing wrong with that.

Nothing wrong with Dawn visiting Mom.

Even though she could have called me. She could have called and asked if I wanted to go with her. I am the daughter. Not her.

But, hey, I can visit anytime I want. Besides, Dawn’s not required to tell me everything she does.

It’s a free country.

I shouldn’t blame Dawn for the bad mood I’m in right now.

I shouldn’t be angry.

I. Am. Not. Angry.

Tuesday 3/31

study hall

I stayed at the Schafers’ last night. This morning I got up early and served Carol breakfast.

She smiled weakly and said she wasn’t hungry.

I did not like the way she looked. Kind of dazed and weak.

I told that to Dawn. She was in the kitchen when I returned with the tray.

“That’s because you brought her what you like, not what she likes,” Dawn said. “Carol hates scrambled eggs. Maybe if you tried a cheese omelette …”

Okay. So I dumped the eggs and made an omelette. I grated the cheese by hand, threw in a few spices. It took forever. By the time I was down, Dawn had left. Jeff, Mr. Schafer, and Mrs.

Bruen were all puttering around. They appreciated the work I was doing.

I went back to Carol’s room with my gorgeous omelette.

Guess what?

Dawn was wrong.

Carol refused the omelette.

She doesn’t just hate scrambled eggs. She hates all eggs.

math

How could Dawn not know that about Carol?

Of course she knew it.

She lied to me.

She hates me.

Why?

What is wrong with this picture?

Dawn is my best friend, but she never talks to me. And when she does, she lies.

She lets me sleep over in her room, but she acts like she can’t wait to get rid of me.

I help around the house. I help take care of her stepmom. But she sneaks off to visit Mom without asking me to come along.

It doesn’t make sense. What have I done to her?

This is so unfair.

She’s the one with the functional family. She’s the one with the good grades. She’s the one who believes in peace on earth [sic] and kindness to all living things.

She has everything. She’s everybody’s friend.

Since when have I dropped off her radar?

Since when have I become poison?

I have been so patient. But I am tired of making excuses for her. I’m tired of saying it’s only a phase, she’s tense about the baby, etc.

She doesn’t want to talk to me? Fine.

Two can play that game.

6:11 P.M.

I took a long walk. I had to clear my head.

So I went to Dad’s store, to visit Ducky on his first day on the job.

He looked great. Cool haircut. New clothes. A small, conservative earring.

But after seeing him here, I have decided that Ducky’s in the wrong business.

He should be in child care.

He didn’t notice me at first. He was sitting on a bench in the kids’ section, bouncing a couple of toddlers on his knees. They had board books in their mouths. So did Ducky.

It was so cute.

When Dad showed up, he was not amused. i [sic] could tell by the murderous glare in his eye.

I tried to signal Ducky. He thought I was waving, so he waved both toddlers’ hands back at me.

Then he saw Dad and his face paled.

Up he stood. Down went the toddlers.

“May I see you in the stockroom?” Dad asked him.

That was when I left.

I hate bloodshed.

Ducky survived.

More than that. He was ecstatic.

Dad hadn’t fired him. Just given him the I’m-paying-you-to-work-not-play lecture. Very politely. (Sure. He just saves his nasty side for me.)

Anyway, Ducky loves the job. He thanked me a million times. He can’t wait for his next shift, which is Thursday, after school. And he’s seriously considering the bookselling industry for a future career.

I nearly fell off my chair trying not to laugh.

I give him, oh, a week before he changes his mind.

But he had to cut the conversation short. He was beeped by Alex on Call-Waiting [sic].

Ducky apologized like crazy but insisted he had to talk to him.

“Oh, so Alex rates over me?” I asked.

I was joking. But Ducky took me seriously. “ Come on, Sunny,” he said. “Alex never calls me.

This must be something important.”

I told him of course I didn’t mind.

Which was true.

I can’t get mad at Ducky.

At least he’s honest with me. At least he doesn’t sneak behind my back.

Like some friends.

Which brings me to my current problem: What do I do now? Where do I go?

Where is my home base?

Everything is so different now. I mean, ever since that terrible day at Venice Beach, Dawn’s family has been my family. They’ve been the only reason I’ve stayed in Palo City.

But I don’t feel welcome there anymore. I know Dawn doesn’t want me around.

Do I stay here in this empty, dirty house with dishes in the sink and laundry all over the place?

With cartons of old books on the living room sofa that Dad has promised to take away for weeks, but which I know I can’t remind him about because he’ll blow up at me?

I hate it here.

But I hate it there.

Well, except for Carol.

She treats me like a human being. She values me.

I guess I should go see how she’s doing.

Oh, great. Dad drove up.

More later.

He must have had a good day at work. Or something.

He walked in the door and for the first time in recent memory noticed that his daughter is a human. “Why the long face, Sunshine?” he asked.

I was so shocked, I actually confided in him.

I said that Dawn’s been acting weird and I didn’t think she wanted to be my friend.

His reaction? “Well, maybe it’s time you stopped treating her bedroom like your private hotel suite.”

So sensitive.

That’s what I get for opening up to him. I should have known better.

What’s worse, he started chewing my ear off about Christopher — as in, Christopher reads the books that he’s supposed to shelve … Christopher talks too much to customers … Christopher needs to learn the work ethic … but he’s a “nice boy” and he knows a lot about kids’ books, so the parents love him.

It took me a minute to realize he was talking about Ducky.

So now Dad wants me to “talk to him.” I’m supposed to give him “work tips” and coach him on how to “use his time efficiently.”

What’s more, Dad’s thinking of hiring another high school kid, and he wants to me find one.

What do I look like, an employment agency?

So I’m at Dawn’s again.

The lesser of two evil houses, I guess.

Carol’s fine. She has a copy of the L.A. Times best-seller list on her nightstand and is working her way through it, book by book.

I guess I’ll have to be going to the library for her.

If I can figure out where it is.

Carol, as usual, asked me all about my day. I did not tell her my feelings about Dawn, even though I was dying to. But I did mention my conversation with Dad.

She smiled. “If he needs another employee, get one of your many boyfriends a job.”

Brilliant.

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I wonder if Bo wants a job.

No.

NO!

I have a much better idea.

I know just who to ask.

11:10 P.M.

Sunny, you are a genius.

Ducky thinks it’s a great idea. He thinks hit is just the thing that Alex needs to pull up his self-esteem.

So Ducky’s going to talk to him tomorrow.

And I have done my good deed for the day.

Wednesday 4/1

homeroom

April Fools’ Day.

I woke up at the regular time. Dawn was fast asleep. I tiptoed to her desk and adjusted the clock to 9:07. Then I snuck back into bed, let out a loud gasp, and said, “Oh, no! We’re late!”

Dawn’s eyes popped open. She jumped out of bed.

I was about to yell “April Fool!” But Dawn started screaming at me — I’m lazy, I never pay attention to the time, I can never be trusted. …

This is what I get for trying to cheer up the morning?

I was so disgusted, I didn’t bother to tell her the truth.

Dawn didn’t find out the real time until she went into the kitchen.

When she did, she started freaking out again.

Some people just can’t take a joke.

English

I feel MUCH better now.

Rescued by the sweetest guy in the whole school.

!! BO BO BO BO BO !!

How can Ducky call him a Cro Mag?

He is so wrong.

Bo found me in the hallway between first and second periods. He gave me one of those little canisters of “mixed nuts” that’s really a jack-in-the-box.

How corny can you get?

Well, I pretended to be surprised when the spring popped out at me.

But I wasn’t expecting this note, which was attached to it:

Okay, not the best speller, but who cares?

lunch

I am sitting alone.

Because my hateful ex-best friend took the only empty seat at the table where Maggie and Amalia were sitting.

She saw me heading for that seat.

I know she did.

I want to kill her.

We talked.

Bo and me.

I heard his voice behind me as I left school.

The sound caressed my ear. Like the touch of a butterfly’s wing.

I have never heard “Yo” sound so sexy.

I turned. He was heading toward the parking lot with some friends, so I walked beside him.

He introduced me to his pals.

Then he asked if Sunny was my real name.

I asked him if Bo was his.

His friends all laughed.

Then they continued toward the lot. Bo waved to me. He looked a little embarrassed. He mouthed the word “Later.”

Hmmmm.

Is it possible he has a name more ridiculous than Sunshine Daydream Winslow?

To be continued.

11:11 P.M.

Went to see Mom tonight.

Got in just before the end of visiting hours.

I tried to buy her flowers, but the store was closing and there weren’t many left, only some really expensive bouquets. I thought about getting a potted plant, but that seemed too dorky.

So I took her a Life magazine instead.

And I put it on her night table. Right next to an identical copy. And a potted plant.

“Isn’t it nice?” Mom asked. “Dawn brought it. I love begonias.”

Real nice.

Dawn shows up with Mom’s favorite plant, and I bring a magazine she already has.

I. Felt. Like. Such. An. Idiot.

Thursday 4/2

5:01 P.M.

She’s evil.

Hateful.

Conniving.

At this minute, while I am in her kitchen, making stew for her stepmother and looking after her house all by myself, where is she?