“Dear Journal: It’s been one month since you-know-what happened. I don't want to think about it so I won't even though I've been told that I'm supposed to think about it. What I really don't want to do is talk about it. Oh, I got my hair cut. And highlighted.”
Tiffany Olson frowned at the entry in the journal she was
being forced to keep for her English class. This was stupid, having to write
stuff down. Like anyone but Mrs. O’Hara was ever going to read it and the only
way that Tiffany knew Mrs. O’Hara was reading it was because she’d write
pathetic comments like, “Wow! That must have sucked!” and put little smiley faces in the margins if she liked what Tiffany wrote. It was just dumb. No one wrote in journals anymore but Mrs. O'Hara insisted and then she complained about how lousy everyone's handwriting was. There was no pleasing that woman. Most of the time Tiffany just made stuff up to put in her journal but that was getting old. So she decided to try for the truth. Hey, it was
an avenue most people in her family never traveled down. Why not be a pioneer?“I’m living with my aunt and uncle now. I hate them. I hate my cousins too. Tyler is okay but he’s very limited when it comes to brain cells. Brad is a jerk and I wish he’d die too.”
Tears sprang into Tiffany’s eyes and she instantly scratched the words out with her aquamarine pen. She didn’t mean that. She
didn’t want anyone else in her family to die, not even her creepy aunt and uncle. Hadn’t she wished her mother was
dead the very morning that she’d run into her? For all she knew she had powers
like Carrie and if she wanted someone to drop dead, they would. It was scary
having that kind of potential power. Nervously, Tiffany plucked another glazed
donut out of the bag on her lap and devoured it. The counselor she was seeing
said that Tiffany was stuffing her feelings down her mouth and that once she
faced them, she wouldn’t be so hungry all of the time. Tiffany disagreed. Even
before she’d broadsided her mom she’d been hungry all the time.
“Hey, Tif. Rosanne said it’s almost time for dinner.”
Tyler came into the den and flopped down on the sectional
across from her. Immediately Tiffany
shoved her journal into her backpack. She hadn’t written anything about Tyler—yet—but
it was the principle of the thing. A person needed some privacy but privacy was
hard to come by in the Schuyler house. “What are we having?” she asked.
“Spaghetti with garlic bread. Rosanne said it would be ready
in fifteen minutes.”
Tiffany’s stomach growled in spite of the half dozen donuts
she’d already downed. “I love spaghetti.” Especially the way Rosanne made it.
Her garlic bread was awesome too. Rosanne did something to it so it was infused
with butter and the garlic tasted sweet. She hoped her aunt and uncle wouldn’t
make an appearance at dinner. There was something about seeing Uncle Ron and
Aunt Mavis that almost took her appetite away. “Ummm, are your parents going to
be eating with us tonight?”
Tyler shook his blond head. “Dad is eating at the club and Mom
has to go to a meeting so it's just the three of us. That reminds me, Tiffany…do you know anything about
that police officer who’s been hanging around the house?”
“You mean Officer Van Husen?”
“Yeah. Just who is he?”
Tiffany shrugged. “I don’t know. Someone your mom’s working
with.” Tiffany liked Officer Van Husen in spite of the fact that he was the one
who had hooked her up with that grief counselor. Tiffany still didn’t think she
needed counseling. She knew it had been a major bummer to run into her mom's car but
did they need to keep talking about
it? “Why?”
Now Tyler shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems like he’s here a
lot.”
“So? You don’t think your mom is having a
thing with him, do you?” Now that would be gross. Aunt Mavis and that police
officer? In the first place, Aunt Mavis was too old for sex and in the second place,
she’d never fool around with anyone who wore a uniform for a living. Tiffany’s
mom had been a major league snob but Aunt Mavis was world class.
“No, of course not,” Tyler said so quickly that Tiffany knew
that was exactly what he was thinking. “It’s just that he’s here all the time.”
Tiffany scratched her chin where the sugar glaze from the donut had made it sticky. Frankly, she didn’t care if her
aunt and the cop were fooling around but she did think Officer Van Husen would
have better taste than Aunt Mavis. He seemed nice and Aunt Mavis was so...snarly. “Want me to do some investigating?”
“No! Don’t do that, Tiffany. I know you have a lot on your mind with…you know.”
Like everyone else, Tyler expected Tiffany to be flipping
out over what she’d done. Couldn't they see that she was flipping out in her own way and that the best thing for her to do was to stay busy? “I don’t mind,” Tiffany assured him.
“I’ll just do a little subtle spying.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tyler said.
“But you did and now you’ve got me curious. I’ll
start investigating right away. You can call me Nancy Drew if you want to.”
“Forget it, Tiffany. I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure nothing
is going on.” Tyler looked miserable.
For a moment, Tiffany’s heart went out to her dorky cousin.
Really, Tyler was the nicest of all the Schuylers but unfortunately for him
that wasn’t saying much. “All right, it’s forgotten,” she said.
“Good. Now let’s go eat.”
Tiffany followed Tyler out of the den, her mind spinning
with ways she could spy on Aunt Mavis. It wasn’t like she was going to do
anything with the information she discovered but it never hurt to have a little
ammunition on one’s side.
At least, that’s what her mom always said.
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