Can You Say Catastrophe Part 5

a"Charlie Brown.

Tuesday, May 21.

Depressed.

I'm depressed. I told Brynn my parents won't let me go to camp.

I thought it would make me feel better to tell her, but it made me feel worse. Brynn just kept saying how it's the most unbelievable thing she'd ever heard, and she'd kill her parents if they did something like that to her. She said she can't imagine what it will be like to be at camp with Billy and without me. That was not what I was hoping she'd say.

I can't even write. I'm too depressed.

Wednesday, May 22.

More depressed.

I'm even more depressed today than I was yesterday.

Billy and I finally talked today. That sounds like a good thing, but it wasn't. Billy talked to me because Brynn told him I told her that my parents won't let me go to camp. He said it was too bad, but I didn't know if he meant it's too bad for me that I don't get to go or that it's too bad for him because he wishes I were going. So I asked him, and that's when our talk turned into a fight. Our first big fight ever.

Billy didn't want to talk about campa"he wanted to talk about kissing. He asked me if I told Brynn he kissed me.

I didn't want to lie, and it seemed like he knew the answer anyway.

When I told him I had, he said all kinds of stuff about how he couldn't believe I would tell Brynn and that he thought I should know that he wouldn't want me to, and how he trusted me not to tell anyone, but that was a mistake.

I tried to apologize, but Billy didn't want to hear anything I had to say. And now we're not talking. Again.

I'm upset that Billy and I aren't talking, but I don't know why. Things are no different now than before we started talking today anyway.

Thursday, May 23.

Still depressed.

It's the next-to-last day of school. All we did in school was eat doughnuts and sign yearbooks. I should be happy, but I'm not.

Friday, May 24.

Last day of school.

Last bell just rang.

Last student to leave.

(i.e., me).

Question: What's worse than the school year?

Answer: Summer break.

But only if your name is April Sinclair and you have the summer ahead of you that I have. I've never been so unexcited about school ending in my entire life.

One more question: Where's the nearest supply closet? I'd like to hide in it until next fall.

Tuesday, June 11.

I think.

I'm not sure.

I don't know.

I don't care.

I haven't written anything for a long time, because I haven't had anything good to write about. I've been forced to spend large amounts of time with people (my sisters) I have absolutely no desire to spend time with.

I haven't seen Matt. For all I know he moved back to California.

Billy hasn't spoken to me since our fight, and I still don't know why. I don't know if it's because he's mad I told Brynn or confused about how he felt when he kissed me or upset he kissed me in the first place.

I completely don't get what's going on. All I know is that I miss talking to Billy, partly because I just miss Billy, but also because it means that the only other people I talk to who are anywhere near my age are May and June, who I don't like talking to, and Brynn, who only talks about a camp I'm not going to.

June l4, 9:45 P.M.

Staring at an empty duffle.

June 14 was supposed to be the day when I would pack my duffle bag, because tomorrow is June 15, the day I was supposed to leave for camp.

It's making me sick that I'm not going. My stomach is upset and my head aches and my feet hurt. I feel like I'm getting one of those diseases people get when their life is too sad for them to lead a healthy existence.

I hate my parents for making me stay home. I'm too young to be filled with this kind of hatred.

And I know that as depressed as I am now, it won't compare to how depressed I'll be tomorrow morning at 6:45 A.M. when my friends are on their way to Camp Silver Sh.o.r.es and I'm stuck at home.

I'm not a happy camper.

Sat.u.r.day, June 15, 7:30 A.M.

Went to the bus to say good-bye.

Back in bed.

Tears on my pillow.

I set my alarm for 6:30 so I could go to Faraway Middle School and say goodbye to my friends before they got on the bus. But I should have stayed in bed.

When Brynn saw me, she gave me a big hug and said she was going to miss me sooooo much and that camp wouldn't be nearly as much fun without me, but I don't think she meant it because she was hugging everybody and screaming about how much fun camp would be.

I saw Billy too. Since he's leaving for a while, I thought he might say something like, April, I'm sorry things got so messed up between us. I really like you and I'm glad I kissed you. Camp won't be the same without you, and don't worry, I'll write.

But he didn't say anything like that. He didn't say anything at all. Not even good-bye. It was really weird. When I told him, "Bye and have fun," he just looked at me like he was going to say something, but he didn't.

Then he and Brynn got on the bus with twenty-eight other screaming kids.

I watched as thirty screaming kids in Camp Silver Sh.o.r.es T-shirts drove off. But there should have been thirty-one kids on that bus.

Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other, "Does this taste funny to you?"

Sunday, June 16, 5:30 P.M.

Since I woke up this morning, I've watched seven episodes of Real Housewives of New Jersey and eaten an entire s...o...b..x of Life cereal. Why a s...o...b..x? Because all the cereal in our house ends up in s...o...b..xes under May's bed where she keeps it in case she gets hungry in the middle of the night.

While my friends are eating roasted marshmallows and singing songs around a fire, I'm stuck eating cereal out of a s...o...b..x and watching a bunch of ladies scream at each other on TV.

5:45 P.M.

Mom just came into my room to check on me. When she did, I made the saddest face I could possibly make. I thought there was a chance she would say something about how she's already starting to realize she and Dad made a big mistake. But all she said was that I shouldn't worry, that this summer will be good for me.

I fail to see how.

Monday, June 17, 6:50 A.M.

It's 6:50 in the morning and I'm listening to my dad yelling, "Paper, Gilligan. Paper!"

My dad been has been standing in our front yard in his robe and slippers yelling for Gilligan to get the newspaper for at least 20 minutes. He's determined to train Gilligan to fetch the paper. Gilligan seems determined not to learn. In the amount of time my dad has been yelling, he could have gotten the paper himself and read the thing front to back.

And Dad doesn't just yell like a normal person yelling to a dog. He yells in a wake-upthe-whole-neighborhood kind of way. It's completely embarra.s.sing.

It's also exhausting. I just walked outside and told Dad that as a result of being awakened so early, I will NOT be able to perform my job duties today, which he and Mom have defined as making lunch for my sisters and keeping them entertained this afternoon. Dad replied with some stupid comment about the early bird getting the worm.

I didn't see what the early bird had to do with any of this, but I asked Dad if while the early bird was out getting the worm, he could get the paper too.

I thought that was pretty funny. But Dad didn't see the humor. He said I should try to be more "respectful." I told Dad I should be at camp where my "lack of respect" wouldn't bother him.

Dad didn't think that was funny either.

Tuesday, June 18.

I have nothing to write about.

Here's what I will be doing today, which also happens to be what I did yesterday: making lunch for my sisters and keeping them entertained. In fact, I will be doing this every day this week, so if I write nothing else, it's because I already know I will have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT.

Thursday, June 20.