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loser.
    Whether or not Derek
    ever spoke to me again,
    I had fit in with the in crowd, if only for a while.
    Not only that, but one of the in crowd had put his arm around me.
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    Maybe almost kissed me.
    And I would have let him.
    So what did that make me?
    106
    When I Got Home
    None of that mattered.
    Reality
    rushed in around me.
    Crushed
    me, like the watery
    weight of the deepest sea.
    Jackie ran out to warn
    me Dad had already
    drowned
    himself in Johnnie WB,
    Mom had asked where to find me, and the kids were yelling for me. I went inside, all remnants of the newfound me
    smothered.
    107
    Later On
    I lay listening to the music of sleep. Inhale. Exhale.
    A symphony of breathing, hearty, steady, frail.
    I shimmied out of bed, tiptoed to the bathroom.
    Listening for movement,
    I sat a moment in the gloom.
    Then I turned on the light above the narrow mirror, needing to analyze the face that appeared.
    Funny, but I rarely
    studied my reflection, rarely allovved myself
    such tedious inspection.
    But someone--a boy--
    had liked my face and I liked that he liked it.
    Flad I tumbled from grace?
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    What had he seen that
    I'd always missed before?
    Plain amber eyes. Straight auburn hair.
    Was there something more?
    Something indefinable, that somehow made me pretty, like how brilliant neon lights
    cheer the dirty streets of a city?
    All I saw in the mirror's depths was a spatter of freckles, sharp angles, too much flesh here, not enough
    there, imperfect teeth, dry skin, and tangles.
    So what had he seen in me?
    109
    I Pondered That
    All the next day--through breakfast and the pre-services scramble; through three hours of Mutual and droning testimony.
    My thoughts were far from pure.
    Through apres-services chatter, squashing into the car for the short ride home.
    I couldn't turn off my brain.
    What did yesterday mean?
    Anything?
    Or was it all just another dream, one I'd dreamed while awake?
    Three days ago, the only boy on my mind was Justin.
    He was a dream too. A safe dream.
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    Safe, because he was unattainable, something to adore from afar.
    Like a snow-drenched mountain or an evening star.
    But what about Derek?
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    J ournal Entry, March 26
    Derek Colthorpe
    told me
    I'm pretty.
    At least
    1 think
    that's ivhat he told
    me.
    Pretty?
    Me?
    And he told me
    he'd see
    me on
    Monday.
    Do
    I
    dare
    believe
    him?
    In
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    I Didn't Dare
    Hurt seemed too likely, so on Monday I didn't
    go looking for him.
    I was a campus loner, anyway, Walking solo between classrooms, eating lunch with my sister.
    Imagine my surprise
    when he found me at the noon break.
    He smiled at Jackie.
    Hi. Then he turned to me.
    Can I talk to you for a minute?
    You should have seen
    Jackie's face as the two of us started away.
    Derek steered me toward a quiet spot. Pattyn,
    I know I'm not exactly
    Your type ...
    He wasn't my type?
    Where could this
    be going but bad?
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    What I mean is, I'm
    not a Mormon.
    ' Maybe we're nothing
    alike at all. . .
    Understatement!
    He was Chateaubriand.
    I was hamburger.
    He reached out and touched my cheek.
    But I'd really like to see you again.
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    N ot Sure
    Whether it was his words or his touch, but my face scorched.
    So of course I came up with a really
    great line. "Why?"
    Derek's smile narrowed.
    Does that mean no?
    I shook my head. "No.
    I just need to know why."
    7 don't know . . . because you're
    smart andfunny and . . .
    Funny as in witty?
    Or as in entertaining?
    . . . and you're not trying to impress anyone.
    Mostly because I didn't
    know I could impress anyone.
    I happen to like you, Pattyn
    Isn't that a good enough reason?
    It was the perfect reason.
    "I like you, too, Derek."
    Okay, then. Friday night?
    Brent's having a party.
    A party? How could I
    possibly swing that?
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    Derek misunderstood my dazed look.
    Second thoughts already?
    "No, it's not that. .
    not that at all. . . ."
    You sure? 'Cause maybe this
    will change your mind. . . .
    116
    He Kissed Me
    Not an over-the-top,