Chapter 12: Roxie
Dear Diary,
I am officially convinced that the universe is playing some sick, twisted joke on me. That loser punk, Ricky Henderson, is systematically ruining my life. I only invited him to Fran’s party because Catherine kept going on and on about how I should "be the bigger person" and apologize for the whole toe incident. Then, when Fran mentioned her Halloween bash was coming up in two weeks, I had a momentary lapse in judgment. I thought, “Why not just invite the dork and get Catherine off my back?” At least then she’d stop lecturing me about how hard it is to be the new kid.
But honestly? It’s been two months! We were all the new kid at some point in our lives, and we didn't all walk around looking like we just escaped a gothic circus. He should have made at least one friend by now, but he hasn’t because he’s a total social disaster and everyone sees it. And then, after I actually tried to be nice, he had the audacity to basically insult me to my face. So, obviously, I uninvited him. I hope he enjoys spending Halloween in his creepy white van.
Who does he actually think he is, acting like some rockstar emo wannabe? Does he think he’s cool with that insane amount of eyeliner? Does he really think he’s all that and a bag of chips? Absolutely not!
...But okay, if I’m being brutally honest with these pages, he is kind of cute. He has that messy dark hair and those mysterious, dark brown eyes that are—unfortunately—exactly my type. Well, minus the ridiculous amount of eyeliner he slathers on to maintain his "rockstar image." If he just cleaned his face and stopped trying so hard, he might actually be tolerable.
Ugh! What am I even saying?! I’m sick of it all. I am beyond sick and tired of Ricky Henderson. I am going to make his life so miserable that he’ll wish he could move back to whatever loser town he crawled out of. I will crush his social standing if it’s the last thing I do. I will not let him get under my skin.
Now that I’ve vented about this emo dork, I guess I should focus on the other disasters in my life. My parents are still at it. The shouting is echoing through the vents again, and honestly? At this point, they should just get a divorce. I know I probably shouldn’t wish for that, but I do—every single day. Their fighting is suffocating. I can barely even hear my own thoughts as I write this!
Olivia would be absolutely devastated if they actually split, though. She is way too young to have to deal with all of this. I wish my parents would consider her for once instead of just screaming about who spent what or who said what. I heard a rumor that Ricky’s parents actually did get a divorce, and that’s the real reason he moved here. I hate to admit it—I really, truly do—but I secretly envy him in that department. At least his house might be quiet.
I’d better go check on Olivia and make sure she’s actually asleep. I doubt it, though. How can anyone sleep in this house when it feels like the walls are vibrating with all the shouting?