Hello, I Dislike You Intensely. Have a Nice Day.

I've done myself in. I've really, really landed myself in shit now.

Oh, well.

The grounds of that private estate were like, vast. And so beautiful. Everything was so green, and the ground wasn't perfectly even, so there were all these little hills and dips and these darling stands of young trees that dotted the landscape, and God, it was like something straight out of a book.

At first, I really didn't think we'd stay there that long, just do a quick sneakaround and then go back, but we ended up staying nearly the entire school day. We started out creeping around and looking back over our shoulders every few seconds for the security guard with the tranq gun, but we slowly got less and less vigilant til we were walking around like we owned the place. It wasn't that I didn't want to go back so much as the more we talked, the more I found I wanted to tell him. And I was afraid that if I didn't tell those things to him right then, I'd never get another chance and he would never know them.

And maybe I'm crazy, but I feel like he felt the same way with me. We were talking over each other, louder and louder, til neither of us could understand what the other was saying. When one of us would call for order, it never lasted long, and one person would barely be finished with what they were saying when the other would butt in with a similar experience or an opposing view or something totally unrelated.

And I'm thinking, maybe I could be a little less uptight about the whole thing. I mean, it's not like I'm sleeping with three guys at once, which is more than I can say for a few people at school. Not to be a gossip, but it's pretty much common knowledge, unfortunately. Well, what I'm trying to say is, maybe, just maybe, me and him could have a little...thing for a few days. And then, when we run out of things to say, we can each go back to our own lives, him to forget all about me, and me to play those memories in my head over and over. (Sad, I know. What do you expect of me?)

I think it'll work.

--

(It is 3:15 AM as I write this.)

Okay, I think Avril Lavigne said it best: I'm so stupid, what the hell was I thinking? (Too bad she didn't literally say that.) But Alex = off-limits. The end. I mean, honestly, if this was the Victorian era, my parents probably would've disowned me and I'd be on the same societal caste as a prostitute by now. If they knew. Which they don't. No one does, and somehow that makes it worse.

Oh, shit, but what if - no, Alex wouldn't. There's no reason for anyone to know. Unless, unless he started getting a guilty conscience and spilled everything to Delia - but somehow he doesn't strike me as the type to do that.

I can't stand this. As scarily and hilariously impossible as it is, I'll have to pretend yesterday never happened. I'll have to not look or talk or think of him anymore, except to talk about geometry during partner work in Math - but then it'll be impossible! I'll say one word to him and something completely lame and weird will pop into my head and I'll feel like I have to say it or all my entrails will prolapse and of course I'll say it. And he'll look at me in that way he has of looking at me and say things that will only encourage me to say more such things, and we'll never get any math done, and then he'll probably invite me somewhere after school and I won't be able to say no. It's hopeless.

Should I run away and join the circus? But no, as much as I hate to say it, I can't run or hide from him either. I'll slip up sometime and that moment will be the exact one where he'll be right there to disarm me, with something stupid as, "Dani! Long time, no see!" and just like that I'll be back in that loathesome trap of his. Shit, shit, shit. No matter what I do, I'll be at his mercy.

Ugh. I'm going to bed.

--

So here I am, hiding out in the dark of my room, basking in the radiant glow of my cowardice. I told my mom I was sick this morning and she made me drink this weird herbal tea (most of which I gave to the plant), then left for work. So now I'm all by my lonesome, expecting every second to hear a rock at my window and open it to see Alex in my yard. Actually, I'm probably gonna start imagining I hear a rock at my window when there isn't one, and after that start hearing the voice of God speaking to me through the food processor. So you see, that boy is really rather unhealthy for me. I would kill him or something if he didn't, well...interest me so much. I mean, he's so frustrating to figure out, but I just feel like we're so alike. I can't explain it. I just feel it. Like a weird psychic lady.

Note to self: Stay away from the windows.

--

I just finished calling Maynard. Am slightly less neurotic now. The conversation went something like this:

Maynard: Hello? Dani?

Me: Yep.

Maynard: Oh, hey. Why aren't you at school today?

Me: Uhh...[Crap, what was the reason, again? Oh, right -] I'm kinda sick today.

Maynard: Oh, that sucks. I'm sorry.

Me: Except...not. You know what I'm saying?

Maynard: Oh, yeah. "Sick" with quotation marks. You are so bad, Dani.

Me: I know, huh! I'm a regular outlaw [in really lame cowboy voice].

Maynard: Well, the truth is, I'm "sick" with quotation marks today too.

Me: Oh, we are the baddest girls in town.

Maynard: More like in our World History table group.

Me: Yeah, yeah, same diff.

May: Actually, I'm at a funeral right now. I skipped school to go to it.

Me: Are you serious?

May: Yep. This lady that worked as a cashier at the supermarket, she was sick for a long time. She knew I stole candy from those bins and she never said anything. And she'd let me work the cash register sometimes. It was so nice of her. I would've told my parents about going to the funeral, but I don't think they would have understood.

Me: Oh, that's so sweet of you. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I called you in the middle of a funeral too. I didn't know.

May: Nah, it didn't start yet. No worries. So what are you doing skipping school?
May: Dani? You still there?

Me: Yeah...

And then I told her everything. I mean, everything. Beginning with leaving my journal entries in a bunch of trees, and ending with ditching school with Alex and how very insane he was making me.

May: Well, Dani, I'm going to make a really bad pun here and say I should call you Cleopatra.

Me: Huh?

May: Because you are queen of de-nial.

Me: What? How?

May: You forgot to groan. You must groan before we go further!

I groaned.

May: Ah, thank you. You were saying?

Me: How am I in denial?

May: I think you secretly love him and are hiding from him because the sight of him would make you tackle him to the ground and yell, "I love you, Alex! I love you like a geeky kid loves Dungeons and Dragons!"

Me: I doubt it.

May: Well, it's just what I think.

Me: And you have how much experience with these matters?

May: Okay, maybe not that much. But you asked for my opinion. You know what I think you should do? You like him, right?

Me: Yeah...I guess.

May: Well, he has a girlfriend. And if he bothered to skip a whole day of school to hang out with you, he must have feelings for you. You should confront him about it, say he can't have the both of you and he'll have to choose. Put the pressure on him instead.

Me: But that's the problem. He doesn't know. He's torn.

May: Well, this should give him a chance to man up and decide who he really feels for. He's a big boy, and pretty smart, from what you've said of him. He's capable.

Me: Okay. I guess that sounds good. What should I do, meanwhile? I feel pathetic hiding like this.

May: Go to school tomorrow and get him alone as soon as you can. Then tell him what I told you.

But I just don't know if I can say those words before something embarrassing and bizarre comes out of my mouth. I don't want to encourage him. God, I'm so nervous.

--

Okay, you will never believe who just e-mailed me.

Marina.

Seriously. I thought she'd died, or she'd been a figment of my imagination, or something. But maybe not. This is what she said:

Dani,
I hope you remember me. Marina Lova from freshman year? Well, you're probably really surprised to hear from me after I kind of just disappeared off the face of the earth. The fact is, we've been in the Witness Protection Program. Evidently, we witnessed a murder without ever even realizing it and all of a sudden, some guy with a badge is telling us to change our name to the Huxleys from Chicago and to move to Coeur D'Alene, Idaho. So we lived there for half a year or so, and then we get a report saying that the guy and all his accomplices have been nabbed in one easy place, and with a huge cache of weapons too, and we can go back to our normal lives. It was all just too surreal. I don't blame you if you don't believe it, because I still can't.

Anyway, I'm writing to say I'm back in town. Drop me a line or call or something so I know you still want to talk to me. The Witness Protection guys or someone held onto our house for us, so we're just getting settled back in and that stuff. Otherwise, life isn't that exciting. Oh, and you're still going to Charlotte Ansom High, right? Well, I won't be anymore. I thought about switching schools last year because CAHS focused on the wrong things - or at least the things I never really cared about, so yeah. I'm still hoping I'll see you around, though.
But I talk about myself way too much. How's your life been?

And before I had to chance to think about what I was doing, I told her everything I'd told Maynard and hit the send button.

--

On a hunch, I checked my e-mail again and found that Marina had already replied. I opened the e-mail.

Dani, that is crazy - well, crazy. God, Alex sounds frustrating, I probably would've strangled him now if I were in your position. Good thing I'm not, though - 'cause I think he's a catch and he really likes you. Too bad he has a girlfriend already. He's gonna have to choose between the two of you, and you should pose that to him because he obviously can't have you both (or well, I guess he could, it'd just be sort of weird.) I mean, that's what I think, anyway. I hope everything works out okay, you sounded pretty stressed-out in your e-mail.

Okay, now two of my friends have told me pretty much the exact same thing. I've got to do it now. I've got to show up at school tomorrow and say those words to him. Oh God, but I'm dreading this worse than I've dreaded anything I can remember. This is different from giving a speech in class or not knowing where my next seat at lunch is going to be. This is Alex. And that makes all the difference.