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Chapter One

Saturday, June 8

Carrie was over last night, and we were making lemon bars for Mom to take to the Logicon company picnic. Nick wouldn't leave us alone. I finally chased him out of the room after he put his fingers into the bowl while I was still scraping it, but he came right back. I think Nick likes Carrie even though he's two years younger than she is. When we were playing Trivial Pursuit, he kept hanging over her shoulder and brushing her hand with his. Then, when the lemon bars were cooling, he stole one out of the pan. Carrie grabbed his wrist and they ended up wrestling for it. Carrie thought it was funny. I was mad at them both because they got gunk all over the floor. I made Nick clean it up, but he did a lousy job. The, floor was sticky and Mom blamed me for it

I want to try to get out of the picnic this afternoon so I can go to the early movie with Peter after I practice.

Sunday, June 9

I drove the truck all the way down Coast Highway to Laguna Beach and back without making a single mistake! Daddy says he'll take me out on the freeway next tune. He says I'm a lot easier to teach than Sandy was. She had a hard time with the gears and stalled every time she had to shift. I didn't stall once and it was only my third time driving. I'm still a little scared when other cars pass me.

On the way back, we stopped at the bakery because Daddy wanted to get some coffee. He kept pushing his Danish at me, saying, "It's delicious. Take a bite." And I kept pushing it away, saying, "Daddy, you know I'm trying to lose weight.

I wish he wouldn't keep pushing food at me. He knows I'm trying not to eat somuch. But he won't take me seriously -- he just laughs and hugs me and says he doesn't think skinny women are attractive. Sandy says it's because he still sees me as his little princess, running to him in my pink tutu and ballet slippers. I wish he'd realize that I'm not a little girl anymore.

Tuesday, June 11

It's really bugging me. I can't remember the last time I had it. I know I had it that Saturday when Peter and I rode our bikes to Dana Point. I think it was March because the acacias were in bloom, but it might have been April. I don't know. Anyway, that was months ago. I must have had it after that!

I almost said something about it today at school. Carrie and I were in the bathroom at lunchtime and she needed a tampon. "I wish I'd get mine," I said.

"You still haven't gotten it?" she said.

"You know, I'm always skipping them," I said. Although I tried to shrug it off, my face was on fire. I'm just sick about it.

Nick just stuck his head in the door to see if I want to go running with him. I'll probably feel better if I do, but it has to be a short one because I have to practice for the orchestra concert on Saturday.

Tomorrow is the French final. I've been sitting on my bed with the book open since seven o'clock. But it's no good. I can't concentrate. I keep thinking, what if.... No. I can't be. Not from the first time.

I knew I shouldn't have gone over to Peter's that afternoon, but I wanted to be with him so bad, I couldn't stay away. It was like there was a magnet pulling me there.

We were lying on his bed listening to a new tape he got from Tom. At first we were just listening to the music, and then we were kind of making out, and things started to get heavy. It felt so good-we just kept going. We took off our shirts. I let him undo my bra. He was stroking my breasts and I was stroking his back. Then his hand moved down to my belly and he was easing down my pants, and then my underpants.

I could feel he was hard, and I was pulling at the buttons on his jeans, trying to undo them. I couldn't, so he undid them for me and slid them off. I know we shouldn't have, only it was too late to stop. I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted him inside me but it hurt, and when he pulled away, there was blood on my thighs. It freaked me out.

Peter kept saying he was sorry, but I was so scared. I gathered up my stuff and I got out of there as fast as I could.

I can't believe I was such a bitch to Peter. I wouldn't even talk to him for two weeks. I even glommed on to poor Mark so he would think I liked someone else. But he kept calling.

Finally I told him I didn't want to see him anymore. I loved him, but I just couldn't be with him. We were both crying, and he promised if I went back with him, we wouldn't do it again until I wanted to. He said he was miserable without me. He was saying, "I love you, I love you. You're beautiful," over and over. And we were both crying and we were kissing and everything was okay. How could I ever have thought I could stay away from him?

Dear God, I love him. Please don't let me be ... Not now, not when everything is so good. I'm so afraid. Please let me get my period.