Lexi was actually grateful for the honesty of the question. “I’ve asked myself that a million times. Zach was hammered, and Mia wasn’t much better. Neither one of them could stand up, really. They didn’t want to call you. It was so late, and they were so drunk.” She paused. “I didn’t want to call you. I wanted you to love me so much … and then Zach got behind the wheel. I couldn’t let him drive.”
“Why did I let you go that night? I knew there would be drinking. And I gave him the keys.”
Lexi moved toward the bed, feeling like a ninety-year-old woman with rickety joints and watery eyes and sat down beside Jude. “It’s my fault, Jude. All mine.”
Jude shook her head slowly. “I wanted to believe that, didn’t I?”
“It’s the truth.”
“I’m trying to be a little more honest these days. I know you love Grace. Do you still love Zach?”
“I’ve tried to stop. I’ll keep trying.”
“You should talk to him.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“He’ll be back soon,” Jude said quietly. “Talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”
Lexi almost broke at that small kindness. It reminded her of all the conversations she’d had with Jude over the years, all the moments when they’d been like mother and daughter. It was because of Jude that Zach had taken Lexi to the dance, where everything between them had really begun. “They were so lucky to have you, Jude. And they knew it. Mia loved you so much.”
“I miss her voice.”
Lexi slipped off the bed and crawled under it, feeling beneath the slats until she found what she was looking for. Holding it, she crawled back out and sat back on her heels, offering Jude the small pink journal with an orange lily painted on the front.
“Oh my God,” Jude breathed, reaching out. “Her journal.”
Lexi placed it in Jude’s hands and then got to her feet. “I’ll go now. Tell … Zach that I’m going to call Grace once a week and I’ll write even more often.”
Jude stared down at the journal, running her palm over it as if it were a piece of expensive silk. “What? Why?”
“I have something important to do before I leave.” Lexi wasn’t even sure if Jude was listening. “A good-bye I should have said a long time ago. But Jude … love Grace better, okay? She needs you.”
Twenty-seven
Mia’s diary.
It had been here all this time, waiting. Jude ran her fingertips over the mottled brass lock, and then, slowly, she opened the book.
Property of Mia Farraday. Private. Keep out. And yes that means you, Zach Attack.
Dear Diary,
I’m scared. Is it okay to write that down? I know how lame it makes me look. But you won’t care, right, Diary?
No one at high school is gonna talk to me. Mom says h.s. will be better than middle school, but she always says stuff like that. How would she know what it’s like to be me? She was a cheerleader and probably Homecoming Queen. What would she have done if Maribeth Astor called her pizza face?
I wish I hadn’t cried. That just made everything worse.
And now I’ll probably have to sit by MB in class.
Crap.
It used to be easy for me. So, like, what happened? In grade school I had lots of friends. Well, so, okay, maybe they were Zach’s friends, but we all played together and I didn’t know there was something wrong with me. Now I know. Boy do I know.
Madre is calling us for breakfast. The most important meal of the day. Yeah, right.
Loser out.
Dear Diary,
You won’t BELIEVE what happened today. Ok I’m gonna write it all down so I don’t forget anything.
First of all, Mom was wrong about h.s. At least at first. I walked into school with Zach, and even though he was holding my hand, it was like I was invisible. Okay maybe I shouldn’t have worn the pink tutu and high tops, but I’m not like those other girls. They know and I know it. The clothes help keep them away. And so what if they laugh?
Lunch was a horrorfest. I walked into the lunch room and almost puked. No one made eye contact with me. Zach was sitting with all his Barbie and Ken friends and he waved me over. No way I was gonna go there, so I took my book and went outside.
That’s when it happened Diary!
I was sitting on the grass by this scrawny tree, chewing and reading （Wuthering Heights） when this girl just walked up and said can I sit with you.
I told her it was social suicide and she smiled. Smiled. Then she sat down and we started talking and Diary, we have like EVERYTHING in common.