Back to School…

Aug 13, Thursday; 10:46 p.m.

Scary, scary thought. School starts tomorrow and I have spent the entire day accomplishing nothing but completely mundane tasks such as painting my nails and organizing my new binder (which wasn't hard considering it only contains notebook paper). Am feeling completely wasteful and useless, must not forget depressed about the inescapable fact that school starts up again tomorrow, which has already been said but must be repeated as if saying, "the world ends tomorrow."

It's weird to think that I'm becoming a junior this year and will officially be an upperclassman and get to drive myself (and my sister) to school. I think I've become too dependant on the fact that I now have independence. It's also a little weird that here they start school on a Friday. Just thought I'd throw that in as an afterthought.

Must go to sleep seeing as I have to wake-up at like 7:00 a.m. tomorrow. Am not going to get dressed up tomorrow as if I have something to prove. I shall wear sweatpants and my "devil-may-care" attitude. Am very excited about new nonchalant outlook on life.

Lalala life is great!

Total Letdown…

Friday, Aug 14; 7:16 a.m.

Whoever decided on compulsory education should be shot dead. I woke up at like 6:00 this morning and am dressed and showered with like 45 minutes left before I have to head off to school.

I forgot to dress gross though so now people might think I'm trying to impress them. I'm not though, I swear. I honestly don't care what they think. So maybe I care a little bit, I mean after all I'm only a 16 year old girl, to be totally nonchalant would make me inhuman. I just don't care what guys think.

I mean I don't need their approval to feel pretty.

I do however need a smoothie…

12:20 p.m.

It's worse than I ever expected. How I even made it to lunch is a modern marvel.

For first and second period I have French in which I'm stuck sitting next to the kid who has been picking his nose since second grade and the damn teacher gave a diagnostic test. How is it that I'm in French 3 and yet the only word I can say is, "bonjour?"

Third period was when the real torture began seeing as I somehow ended up shoved into an Interpretive Dance class. INTERPRETAVE DANCE! I can't even walk yet alone dance especially not this damn hippy-dippy crap dancing. I have nothing against hippies, in fact I agree with most liberal political policies, but who wants to spent 90 minutes quacking like a duck?

Not me.

For fourth and fifth period I have ethics which is our weird art school's version of English mixed with debate. We mostly just read poems and debate about global warming all year. I have a reputation for tearing apart my debate opponents. I must confess this class won't be that bad seeing as it's the only class I have with Erin, my best friend since like fourth grade, and I do love to read, just not poetry.

Have suddenly changed my mind about Ethics and decided I hate it. I do hate poetry, that's just one reason though. The other two are Eddie Cartail and Will Darcy. Eddie sucks because Erin's had a crush on him as long as I've known her but he is at Darcy's command 24/7 and never stopped to notice how awesome she is.

Will Darcy is probably the worst thing to walk the hallways here at Morris High. He's cute but he knows it and spends most of his time making sure others do too. He's rich and spoiled so has no boundaries of right and wrong. The worst part of it all is that guys envy him and girls worship him. Well at least most girls do. I most certainly am not one of those girls.

Luckily this class is split up by lunch, which is where I am now, so I get to spend lunch with Erin. Not so lucky is that Erin left to buy her lunch over half an hour ago and has yet to show back up. I have also just realized I spent most of my lunch sitting alone and writing in a diary. If I cared about my image this would be social suicide.

Luckily I don't.

During sixth period I have my over achieving AP Calculus class, which will drive me insane. I will however be the only junior in this class and meet lots of cute seniors. Am very excited about being a big dork. People never see the benefits of it.

For seventh period I'm an intern for my favorite person in the world, Mrs. Hertz (Hz like the unit) or Aunt Claire as I call her outside of the prison they call high school. She's my mom's sister and probably the only sane person in my entire family. She's my hero and pulled so many strings to get me as her intern. I am very excited about this. Very excited.

Ew I just put my hand in gum. Must get back to Humanities before the

bell rings.

Chao.

1:17 p.m.

Calc was a major overestimation. First day of class and I'm already in way over my head and totally bored with the people.

Stupid, naïve Lizzy thinking that having a class with "mature" seniors would be fun. Also turns out that the senior class's maturity level was a major overestimation.

Damn someone just pegged me in the head with a ball of paper must go commit murder as revenge. Do you think being provoked into murder is a viable defense? I think I could make a very convincing self-defense argument.

Beach Bum…

Saturday, August 15; 3:30(ish) p.m.

Am currently lying on a beach after being kicked out of my house by the crazy mother claiming that noon was much too late to still be in bed. I claim that it is not but it's a moot point seeing as now I'm just sleeping on a beach. This would be pretty sweet if she hadn't made me take Bridget, the horrid younger sister whom I swear is adopted.

Bridget looks nothing like me. I'm a blonde she's a brunette. I'm tall and "curvy" whereas she's built like a stick and looks perfect in a bikini. She's mundane and superficial, whereas I like to think that I look at people as more than a hot body. She's like mom, while I'm like dad.

It really isn't fair that she gets to be all cute and stuff and I'm stuck here as wobbily old Lizzy. Aren't 14 year olds supposed to be going through some sort of awkward stage? How come Bridget totally skipped over that and was always built like a model? I suppose I got all the family awkwardness and there was none left for stupid Bridge. I'd like to think the same applies for intelligence.

Whatever, I'm going swimming.

2 minutes later

The water is much too cold for Florida. I blame the rain.

I can't stand to look at Bridget anymore and am now going to take another nap. I really should start going to the gym more. I don't even remember the last time I ran more than three feet. I also must start bringing more curvaceous people with me to the beach…

The revelations of curtains…

Sunday, Aug. 16; 8:15 p.m.

So tired.

The family dictator (a.k.a. mom) dragged me about town to help her shop for the perfect curtains then decided I had no opinion whatsoever and spent the entire time ignoring my input. She assumes that since I don't have a boyfriend I wouldn't know the perfect drapes to impress one.

She honestly told the sales clerk at Sears that she wanted them to say, "Cute and homely, but a tiger in the bedroom." Not only is that disgusting but I think she's reading way too into that kind of thing. This brings me to a string of great questions: Do guys even notice the mundane things such as drapes? If I never notice them why would they? And finally, why the hell do I care if they notice them?

The age old questions; time may never tell.

After shopping with the socially demanding and having to say the sentence "I don't care what guys like, I don't like it!" all too often she dragged me out to play tennis.

"Lizzy nothing shapes your thighs better than a good game of tennis!" she would claim. "Don't you want to impress the boys on the beach?"

"No," I would protest then serve the ball down her throat. She's never been able to beat me at tennis due to the fact that she spends more time making sure her skirt flies up a bit when she serves rather than if the serve goes in.

Good grief. I swear she's from another planet. What 40 year old does that type of stuff, especially when in the presence of her daughter? She's the type that will keep her profile on until the day she dies.

Somewhere along the line she became dependant… on men.

Ew must go shower. Sweat from tennis does not sit well when you have sand in your bum.

The off-conscious…

Monday, August 17; Err… lunchtime. (Reminder: must buy watch!)

I am honestly worried about Erin. She definitely addled her brain at one point in her life. Maybe even multiple times.

In the first hour of humanities, before lunch, she turns to me, after scribbling continuously in her notebook since class started, and asks, "How do you spell 'off-conscious?'"

What does one do when ones friend starts talking gibberish?

"Off-conscious?" I asked with a genuinely freaked-out look on my face.

She just stared back at me with an innocent look and nods, still smiling I might add.

"Sweetheart," I reply with all the compassion I could muster, "I don't think that's a word."

"Yes it is. It means like asleep," she states her brow furrowed in either concentration or maybe frustration. "You know like the opposite of on-conscious!" She smiled like she'd just answered the million dollar question.

I shook my head, my mouth agape. "No dear. Unconscious means asleep, and being conscious is its opposite. I'm afraid there's no off-conscious."

She frowned. "But it makes so much sense my way. Like a light bulb, off and on."

I distinctly heard Eddy's muffled laughter in front of me and promptly kicked his chair, then looked over at Darcy silently challenging him to make fun of her too. He didn't, just looked back down at his desk.

"I know, it really does, but since when does life ever make sense?" I asked quite philosophically.

"Ooh that's a good one. Mind if I use it in my story?" she lit up and started scribbling again.

"What's your story about?" I was a bit shocked that Eddie asked her this before I could.

Erin shrugged and blushed. "Just a girl that's a bit lost."

"Aren't they all?" Eddie asked smiling. I couldn't tell if he was trying to be witty or offensive.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "You think that guys have a better grasp on the philosophies of life?"

Then Darcy stepped in. "I think that while women are worrying about the shade of their new highlights men are writing novels such as Of Mice and Men."

I turned to him my face rigid and trying as hard as I could not to mentally make the connection with what he said and yesterday's curtain ideology. "So you think that girls are only as good as their hair color or curtains?" I felt ashamed of my blonde hair that people had always told me was pretty. Had I been born to become one of those girls?

"Well I don't know about curtains…" he drifted off obviously realizing he'd started a fight he was going to loose.

"You know what I think about men?" I asked then answered my own question as Erin slammed her head on the desk in either exasperation or embarrassment, "I think that men flock to those superficial bimbos you speak of because that's the only way they feel important, because real women don't need people like you. So you can have your bimbos and think whatever you want of them but to claim that all women are like that is only feeding your insecurities!"

Darcy blushed. I love it when I get the answer right.

When the lunch bell rings he just sat there and watched me as I pack my things. I made it a point to smile as if he hadn't just upset me and not look over at him as if his opinion meant nothing in the world to me, because it doesn't.

The world on drugs…

Wednesday, August 19; 7:40 p.m.

Life is weird, and random. There is nothing in the universe that is a weirder combination of randomness. Some call it fate. I prefer "weird combination of randomness".

How is it that Erin can like a guy since fourth grade and after only four days of sitting beside him in the same class rumor has it he likes her?

I'm not jealous though.

Pfft like I'd be jealous of stupid Eddie. I could be partly upset by Erin getting what she's wanted for so long, and me not, but that's utterly ridiculous. Or I could be jealous that she might have a boyfriend whereas I will not, but that's even more insane.

Plus I don't even want a boyfriend.

And even if I did there's no one I like enough. I bet if I really wanted a boyfriend I could have one. I could have lots of guys. Heck even Darcy.

I mean that's a total hypothetical of course. A theory I have absolutely no plans of testing.

Darcy? Pfft he's ridiculous.

8:50 p.m.

I mean of course he's cute. He's always been cute. But he has an ego the size of Alaska, or maybe even all 50 states put together. Plus he's insufferable.

His family's beach place is near my Dad's house and I always see him there when I stay with my dad for the summer but he never says hello or anything. Not even a polite wave.

I bet he sits on the balcony of his gihugant (my word.) house and mocks my family and my Dad's tiny beach house.

Stupid freak.

I now hate him even more.

I hope he gets mono.

The snails are running…

Friday, August 21; 4:01… 4:02… 4:03…

You know how when there's something your absolutely dreading time goes faster?

Well it is most definitely true.

Stupid Brianna Smith invites me to her stupid party tomorrow night, and stupid me says I'll go. That's part of what I'm dreading. Whoever claims that too loud music, underage drinking, and cops makes for a good time is also very stupid.

Yet between bickering with Mrs. Hz about dropping interpretive dance, which she flat out refuses to let me do, and keeping stupid Erin from saying stupid things around Eddie and Darcy my week has been pretty crappy.

It gets worse though. Yesterday during humanities Eddie turns to Erin and casually asks for a pen. I knew he didn't really need a pen because I could see one sticking out of his chemistry folder.

Erin however didn't notice this and reaches across the aisle to hand him one of hers. (The pen was pink with little white hearts… that's so Erin.) His stupid hand lingers on her pen for ages as he grabs it from her. I bet his hand's sweaty too.

"Thanks," he mutters.

"No problem," she replies smiling and facing forward again, Eddie however is not.

"Um," he stammers with a little cough, "are you going to Brianna Smith's party on Saturday?"

Erin turns back to him and smiles. I have no clue why she smiled. I mean I wasn't smiling that's for sure. Even Darcy didn't smile. Come to think of it he actually looked quite perturbed.

"Yeah, are you?" That was even worse because she tried to hide her smile and ended up looking like a cracked-out whore.

Stupid Eddie just nods yes to her.

"Cool. I guess I'll see you there." Erin really can play it cool. She may not be able to spell nonchalant but she sure can act it.

Eddie then cleared his throat as if there was more he had to say and obviously there was because he started talking again. "Well me and Darce," he gestured to a bug-eyed Darcy, "were going to hang out Saturday so maybe you could come and just ride with us to the party?" Eddie actually looked all cute and nervous. Darcy however looked as if he might turn into the Hulk.

"That sounds awesome, but well…" she gave me an awkward look and I gave her a confused one, "I can't go without Lizzy."

I have no idea what possessed her to say that. She most definitely will be going without Lizzy!

Eddie nodded. "Definitely. Lizzy should come," I was about to jump to my feet and tell him that going with them was the last thing I wanted to do when Mrs. Warbucks comes over and chastised our section for being "overly noisy" and claimed to next person to talk would be sent to the dean.

My blood is still boiling I'm so angry. Not only am I being dragged to this stupid party but also along with the village idiots on their stupid date. Apparently I wasn't the only one who was angry about this because when the bell rang Darcy angrily snatched up his books and practically sprinted from the room totally ditching.

Moody isn't he?

9:62… err that's not right…

Erin is pretty freaking annoying. She's called me like three times to ask what I'm wearing and beg me to not ditch her tomorrow.

She knows me too well to know that I have no intention of going with her.

"Should I wear the pink sparkly shirt or the purple lace one?" she keeps asking.

I tell her the purple one because I've never seen the pink one and knowing her it's probably got feathers attached to it.

I'm just going to wear a couple of layered tanks and my flip flops. I like layers. They make me happy.

About last night…

Sunday, August 23; 1:06 a.m.

Two major emotions run through me after everything that happened tonight: relief because I really did have fun despite some people and am glad I don't have to worry about it anymore, and hatred the type that leaves you with an odd boiling anger that has the weirdest sensation of making you want to cry. But I won't because there is no way in hell I will ever cry over Darcy.

Erin shows up at my house Saturday morning at an ungodly hour and is practically going crazy because she tried something new with her hair and ended up with this horrible head consuming knot. It took me over an hour to get it out, using conditioner and scissors when she was preoccupied.

Then I spent half an hour convincing her she wasn't fat and that not eating breakfast would be worse than eating it. Eventually I got her to eat a piece of toast, without butter.

After that I spent another 45 minutes getting her hair "super-super straight". She wanted it so straight that I could see my reflection in it once I was done. Which is really crazy because she has naturally straight hair so I don't see what the fuss is about; I'm the one with the curls.

Darcy, the ass hole, showed up around noon with the sweetest car I've ever ridden in. Stupid spoiled brat whose daddy probably bought it for him the day he turned 16.

Jackilyn, Eddie twin sister and a total bitch, really wanted to sit up front with Darcy but somehow Eddie ended up shoving me into the front seat and Jackilyn spent the whole trip sulking from the back. I on the other hand was so naïve as to actually try to converse with stupid Darcy.

"Hi," I had said brightly. I was only trying to make the best of a bad situation.

"Hey," Darcy had replied and then just left it at that. I should have given up at that point but I was being stupid and just kept going.

"So… um what's up?"

"Er the roof I guess." I must admit I was a bit upset because that's what I sometimes say to people and because he sounded like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be.

This time I really was smart enough to leave it. Well actually it was left for me because Jackilyn started whining from the back seat about how she needed music so she wouldn't have to listen to Eddie "make an ass of himself". I kind of laughed at this, but I think Darcy's a robot because it was funny and yet he showed no emotion what so ever, just shoved his CD case onto my lap and said, "Pick something."

Little did I know that would be a hard task, because inside that overly packed CD case was every CD I'd ever loved in my entire life. It had every great song every great artist I could ever imagine, which leads me to the conclusion that he stole it, because no way a guy that has such bad taste in girls could have such great taste in music.

I pull out a Brittney Spears CD. "Is this your favorite?" I ask smiling that I'd found the one horrible CD in a sea of great ones, and the fact that he owns a Brittney Spears CD. "Should we listen to it first?"

He looked a bit horrified, and even flushed a little, then snatched it from my hands. "It's my little sister's," he replied blushing some more and rolling down the window. I'm still a bit shocked that robot-boy is capable of emotions such as embarrassment.

I poked him in the arm. "You shouldn't do that. Littering is bad."

He gave me a strange look. "Um okay," he said then handed the CD back to me where I put it back in its spot while he rolled the window back up. I popped in Jack Johnson instead and spent the entire car ride singing to myself because I knew the words, but mostly because it seemed to annoy Jackilyn when I did.

Erin had decided we should go see a movie, but not just any movie "Summer Romance". I spent the entire time the previews were showing trying to plot my escape into any other theatre than the one I was in and trying not to laugh at Jackilyn trying to make moves on Darcy. Doesn't she know he's a robot that not capable of erotic responses?

After about 20 minutes of the movie I'd had enough and just got up and left because Darcy was enticed in throwing stuff up into the air and trying to catch it in his mouth, while Jackilyn was enticed by him, and giggling kept coming from the seats that supposedly belonged to Erin and Eddie.

In the lobby I was just about to walk into the latest superhero flick when this guy that works there stops me. I wasn't worried because they never take ticket stubs and if he asked for it I'd say I was just confused about which theatre I was in, but all he asked was if I was in his French class. Upon further inspection of him I realized he was.

"Were you pissed about the conjugation test? I got like a 35," he had asked. I kind of giggled because I can't speak French and managed to get an 86.

"Now you think I'm stupid," he replied blushing a bit at my giggles.

"No I don't," I protested fairly weakly, "Miss. Hernandez is a horrible teacher. It's no wonder we're all failing."

"She used to be a music teacher you know," he replied as if it was some huge scandal.

"I find it all very reassuring that if at one point I find myself fired from being a Spanish music teacher I can still get a job teaching French to unsuspecting high school kids."

The guy laughed at my joke and I really couldn't help but notice that he was kind of cute. "My names Lizzy by the way."

He smiled at me and was on the verge of replying when his eyes popped. "I have to get back to work."

I stood there a bit confused when someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Um Lizzy. Erin wants you. The movie is over, you know."

It was Darcy. He didn't even wait for a reply, just turned and headed to the doors, no doubt expecting me to follow. Unfortunately I did, but only because I had to.

By the time we get to the party Jackilyn is ecstatic because she got to ride up front with her beloved Darcy without anyone noticing, and by anyone I mean Eddie because don't you know that me and Erin are nobodies?

The party was actually kind of fun. I vetoed the beer because it tastes nasty and I can have fun without it, but I danced a lot. I now understand why people get drunk at these things, it's because they're all such horrible dancers, myself included. I don't think anyone seemed to notice how bad I was because people just kept asking me to dance with them and I felt kind of like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.

Here's why Darcy is an unforgivable ass: I overhear him and Eddie mid conversation while I was getting a drink. Eddie asks Darcy why he won't dance with anyone. Darcy replies "There's no one here I want to dance with."

So Eddie says, "Look they don't have to be Aphrodite, it's just dancing. Why don't you dance with Jackie or Lizzy seems to be a pretty good dancer."

Darcy seemed to snap a little. "You honestly think I'd ever be caught dead dancing with Lizzy Morgan?"

This was rude and offensive and he didn't realize I was standing within ear shot, or at least he didn't until Damien, a nice guy in my Calc class that always throw paper balls at people, comes up and yells loud and drunkenly, "Lizzy! You have to dance with me now!" I pulled Damien into the mosh-pit-like dancing area before I could notice if Darcy had heard this, but it seems impossible that he didn't.

The ride home was awkward to say the least. I got stuck in the front again because I live farthest away and Jackilyn was too tired to argue. Once it was just the two of us in I spent the entire time wondering if I did jump out, how badly would I get hurt.

As we pull into my driveway Darcy decides he suddenly wants to start a conversation. "Look about what you heard-" he starts weakly but I cut him off by jumping from the car. It was stopped at this point though.

"Thanks for the ride," I chirp much too cheerily and falsely. Before he could say another word I was at the door and promptly hopped inside.

On the whole I had fun. Darcy may be an ass but at least I no longer have to worry about him. I can spend the rest of my life blatantly ignoring him. It can't be too difficult; I've spent much more time not talking to him than I ever did talking to him.

But to think I ever thought him cute…

A cool freshman…!

Tuesday, August 25; 9:17 p.m.

I honestly met a cool freshman today. Believe it or not I met her in interpretive dance which I'm giving a try due to Mrs. Hz threatening to tell my mother that I made up the guy I "went out with" during freshman year. (She just had so many expectations of her daughter for high school. Apparently that didn't mean getting straight A's and AP credits.)

Anyway she was my dance partner today and after class (which consisted of getting in touch with our inner squirrel. I'm not even kidding.) she comes up to me with my bag in hand. As she handed it to me she says, "Lizzy, right?"

"Err yes. How do you know my name?" I asked back.

She shrugged as we headed out of the class. "I've heard people talk I guess."

I involuntarily blanch, and she giggles a little bit. "Don't worry, not bad stuff. Just snatches of certain people's conversations."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Like who?" At the time I was confused about what freshmen would be talking about me.

"Well your sister Bridget for one. To be honest she never shuts up about the fact that she has an upperclassmen older sister."

"Oh right I forgot about her. Well that's definitely Bridget," I smiled because I knew she wasn't as ashamed of me as she always claims.

We walked on for a second. "So who else then?"

"Who else was talking about you?" she asked and I nodded. "I can't reveal that. It's classified information."

I frowned and before I could protest, or maybe even plead she started talking again. "Look I have to go. Freshmen must be herded back to the portables."

I smiled again. "Too true, now get girl before I'm forced to lasso you." She laughed at this but I don't know if it was what I said or my horrible mock southern accent.

"Name's Jo by the way," she replied as she headed off.

"Like Josephine?"

She laughs. "Not quite." This made it seem like she had some big secret I knew nothing about. "I'll see you in dance tomorrow."

"Ok. Bye," and she disappeared as I rushed to my next class.

Let the feud begin…

Wednesday, August 26; 6:47 p.m.

I am in love with movie theatre guy, whose name turns out to be Jack.

In French he plopped down next to me and asked about my movie.

"I don't really know I was contemplating poking my eyeballs out the entire time," I replied.

"Ooh that bad," he says wincing. "Let me guess 'Summer Romance'?"

I laughed. "You're good. Have you seen it?"

He winced again. "No thank god."

I returned with another laugh.

"You know I can sometimes get free movie passes, I mean if there's anything you've been… itching to see," he replied cautiously.

"Hmm I don't much like movies, and I'm not very 'itchy'," I replied smiling and hoping he wasn't asking me out.

"So what does it take to please the infamous Lizzy Morgan?" he asks mockingly.

"Infamous? No I'm just simple. It takes ice cream and… um a really good video tape." Had I gotten a reputation for being impossible to please?

"Right I'll keep that in mind…" he smiled at me again, for some reason his smile doesn't affect me like I thought it would.

After class he waited for me at the door. "So what class do you have next?"

"Umm," I blushed, "promise you won't make fun of me?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he replied smiling.

As we pass down the hallway I saw none other than Will Darcy with his back leaning against the wall as if waiting for someone. Jack stopped in his tracks. I looked at Darcy and then at Jack a bit confused then remembered my pact of ignoring Darcy, which had been going exceptionally well all week, and just picked up conversation again with Jack. "It's interpretive dance."

Jack looks back at me. "What?"

"My next class is interpretive dance. Walk me to it?" I ask as if I were a sex kitten, which I'm not, but it works because with one last hard look at Darcy we both set off down the hall again. Once we were out of ear shot I had to ask the burning question. "So what's up with you and Darcy? Ex lovers or something?"

He rolled his eyes and resumed his smile. "Not quite. We grew up together as best mates, then one day in middle school he woke up cool and I was no longer good enough."

"Really? I never knew that," I replied a bit shocked.

Jack shrugged, "You know how it goes."

"Popularity's a bitch," I supplied very supportively.

"Yes well Darcy is no exception," Jack stopped smiling again, "he once told my girlfriend at the time that I was cheating on her when I wasn't."

"People can be shitty," I say nodding.

"Well aren't you just the queen of generalizations," he said this going from heartbroken guy to playful Jack in record time.

"Yes and so much more."

As we got near the classroom he bugged out pretty quickly. "I guess I'll see you in Humanities?"

"Er… right." Honestly I hadn't noticed him in that class, but it matters not because Darcy is now even more so an utter ass hole. I was so angry during dance that I almost broke Jo's toe while doing the chicken dance (which is very fun) and I silently seethed every time I saw Darcy looking at me in Humanities. Even Erin seemed a bit taken aback by my state.

I think I'm quickly becoming an anger addict.

A sister swap?

Friday, August 28; 10:17 p.m.

How is it that a person can grow up with someone and be related to them and also be that person's polar opposite? How is it that that relationship exists between me and Bridget?

There we are sitting at dinner with mom and of course she has to bring up the last subject I really wanted to discuss at the time.

"So like are you taking me shopping?" she asks all bitchy and girly.

"Like for what?" I replied mocking her girly voice.

"For a homecoming dress, you social alien!"

"Ooh you have a date to homecoming Bridget?" my mom asked suddenly all excited.

Bridget gave a smug little smirk. "Yes actually I have a couple of options open for me. What about you, dear Lizzy? Or have you managed to chase them all away with a fly swatter already?"

I couldn't give her the satisfaction of being right so instead I told a tiny white lie. "Yes actually I do have a date."

"Honestly dear?" my mom sounded skeptical but luckily Bridget seemed excited and promptly asked "Who?"

I said the first name that came to mind. "Damien Wright."

"Oh my god!" Bridget was excited for me.

"Is he cute?" My mother sounded like a 16-year-old girl.

"He's not just cute mom, he's a senior!" Bridget loves every upperclassman, she probably has pin-ups of Darcy or something.

"Well dear that's great. Now we should all go shopping tomorrow," she replied all motherly and then headed off to check her dating profile.

"You know what I don't understand," Bridget asks all innocently once mom had left.

"How about: boys, life, pollution, biology, English, or maybe even life in general?"

She makes a nasty face at me. "No I was going to say: why Damien would want to take you to homecoming." That's when she laughed at her own joke. Who does that?

Anyway Damien says it's cool because I just called him a couple of minutes ago and he sounded pretty psyched. So bite me Bridget.

Jo is cool though. I don't know how she puts up with Bridget; I only do because I have to. She was telling me about her brother today. After dance while I was taking off my new leg warmers, (a trend I feel should definitely be brought back) she comes and sits by me.

"I so love that you wear those," she said pointing to my leg warmers. "When my brother and I were little we used to dress up in our parents old 80's clothes, he would look so stupid in like my dad's huge leather jacket. I still use those pictures for bribery."

"Bridge and I used to do stuff like that. You know makeovers and stuff. We used to make the funniest commercials and movies. I should threaten to release our Harry Potter film next time she acts like a cow."

Jo smiled at me. "Oh please do. I really want to see it."

"What's he like?" I asked her kind of randomly.

"Who? My brother?" I nodded at her. "Oh he's really cool, kind of protective sometimes. We're really close though so I don't blame him much; he's like my favorite person in the world."

"Wow I must admit that's kind of corny," I replied.

She shrugs. "Yeah well he's the only person I really trust. He once caught me kissing one of his best friends, whom I later found out had a girlfriend. My brother told his girlfriend and… after that they weren't friends anymore." She looked embarrassed by this story like it wasn't one of her finer moments.

"Wow I'm sorry. That's really cruel," I told her being sympathetic just as I should be.

"Well life is sometimes cruel," she said shrugging again and stepping away with a wave. "See you," she muttered as a tall girl with a pink shirt yelled out to her, "J.D.!"

Lizzy to the rescue…

Saturday, August 29; 2:06 p.m.

Has been decided by jury of my peers that I have thunder thighs; but by peers I mean Bridget, my mom, and Erin. I do not care what they think though because I quite like my legs, (I could kill a man with them you know.) and because this decision was mad by mom the emaciated, Bridget with her man hands, and Erin whose nose looks a bit funny if you look at it from this one angle. My god they're all so perfect. I think I'll be sick now.

I found an OK dress. I mean it's a bit slutty but everything is on me because I have pretty big boobs and long legs. Plus it's dark at homecoming so no one really sees what you're wearing.

Erin had a minor break down because everything Bridget tried on looked perfect on her. Eventually the dressing room attendant found this dress which definitely made Erin stop crying. Of course she looked ridiculously perfect in it.

Mom just kept asking me questions about Damien. Not like personality questions, things like "Is he tall enough that you can wear heels?" and "Does he know what color your dress is so he can get you some matching flowers?"

Let's be a little more superficial.

11:50p.m.

Just got home from playing Erin's knight in shining armor.

She calls my cell at a little after 10 and sounds completely hammered. "Lizzy I need your help." She practically sobs.

"Where are you?" I ask without explanation because I know what's happened before it's said.

"The bathroom at Janie Masterson's house," she muttered this like she's embarrassed.

"Do you need me to come pick you up?" I ask her gently. All I get as a reply is some rustling on the other end. "Erin?"

"Oh right, I was nodding."

I didn't even bother to change out of my P.J.s just grabbed my keys and headed out.

Once I got there Janie looked so relieved, like I saw her saving grace. "They're so wasted and my parents are supposed to be home at like 11!" she practically screamed it at me. Who invites people over to get wasted when they expect them to leave again? "Darcy's not doing so well, I think he hit his head."

I stop searching the room for Erin for a second. "Darcy's here?"

"Yeah. I think he's passed out on the couch," she replied pointing to a sofa on the other side of the room.

This complicated things a bit.

"Where's Erin?" I asked, brushing Darcy aside.

"Upstairs. I'll go get her if you can just check Darcy." She honestly was bargaining with me over this.

"Fine," I mutter as she dashes up the stairs to get Erin. When I get over to the sofa I notice Eddie sitting in a Laz-E Boy chair and examining his hand.

"Hey Lizzy," he says all smiling and creepy. I was rather freaked out by him; he looked fairly rapist-like.

"Eddie, did Darcy hit his head?" I ask because Darcy really is out cold.

Eddie just shrugs.

"Darcy, wake up," I command prodding him, and then shoving him when that didn't work. Darcy's eyes flicker for a second and I try to sit him up, while he sticks his arms out as if he's going to shove me but he instead just grabs both my hands, and then tightens his hands around my fingers.

When Janie got back down the stairs with Erin on her heels, I quickly request a glass of water. Janie looks at me funny for a second, then dashes off to the kitchen, while Erin crawls over to me on the floor. "Lizzy I'm so sorry," she pleads and I believed her because she looked it, in fact I pitied her.

"It's ok Erin just go make sure Eddie's ok." With that she crawls off again.

As soon as Janie got back with the water I throw it over Darcy's head, and he wakes up. "Ok Janie, you get those two to the car. I'll handle him," I say pointing to Darcy.

I pull Darcy's arm over my shoulders and heave him up. "Darcy, you're going to have to help me," I plead. Eventually I get him to stand on my supports. I think it's kind of weird that until that point I never really realized how tall he really was, and how heavy. It took every muscle in my body to keep him upright all the way to my car. Eventually we get there and I drive to Erin's house first because I know where it is. By the time we're at her house she's sobered up enough to get to her bed without waking her family, so she just mutters, "thanks," and goes.

Eddie and Darcy are a whole other matter. Eddie instructs me to his house pretty well, which makes me think he didn't drink as much as I thought. As we pull into his driveway, I'm getting kind of panicked about what to do with Darcy. All Eddie offers as words of advice are "Call Georgie."

"Who's Georgie?"

"His sister," he replies as he leaves.

That's when I truly panic. First thing I do is spend five minutes groping around in Darcy's pocket trying to extract his phone, which if I was any other girl at our school this wouldn't have been so awkward. Meanwhile he's behaving like a two-year-old and pulling on a strand of my hair. Eventually, I pull the phone out and search through his phonebook for Georgie.

"Darcy, where in the hell are you?" the phone screams at me as soon as the call gets through.

"Err Georgie?" I ask and she stops.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Um, I'm Lizzy Morgan, and um, your brother is passed out in my car." This wasn't altogether true because Darcy was awake and now running a finger up and down my arm.

"Oh ok. If he comes home in that kind of state my mom might freak, so… is there anywhere else you could take him?"

I didn't like what she was insinuating.

"Yeah, sure. He can stay on my sofa." I had not been expecting to say that.

Once we got to my house, getting him inside seemed impossible, so I had to do another thing I really didn't want to.

"Bridget wake-up. I need your help," I practically had to drag her out to my car.

"Lizzy that's Will Darcy," she said stopping once she saw who it was.

Darcy started laughing which kind of freaked me out, while I was pulling his arm back over my shoulder and gesturing for Bridge to do the same on his other side. She looked like she was savoring this with all her might.

We had almost gotten him inside when he said something really crazy. So crazy, in fact, that I will not repeat it because I feel bad and because I know it's not true. Just a drunken slur.

Once we get him inside Bridget starts barking about him being all wet so I order her off to bed. While I'm trying to get pillows under his head I notice she's right about him being wet and pull off his shirt. He seemed quieter at this point. He'd stopped laughing and was just looking at me.

As I was putting a blanket over him he grabs my arm and just kind of held it. Not forcefully, but like he was trying to tell me something and I was just hoping it wasn't that thing that he'd said earlier. I had to peel his hand off my arm and I practically ran off to my room.

Please don't let him ever, ever remember last night.

The morning after…

Sunday, August 30; 2:00 p.m.

I woke up pretty early considering how tired I was last night and there's Bridget starring at Darcy sitting on our sofa. Until that point I was convinced it was all a dream, or nightmare.

"Did you take off his shirt?" I ask Bridget yawning.

She turns to me with smiling eyes. "No you did, last night."

"Oh," I manage remembering that I did.

"He said he loved you last night, you know." She's wasn't looking at him anymore but at me, very directly and concentrated, a way I'd never seen her ever look at anyone before.

I wince. "He did not."

"Yes he did. I heard him."

I give in. "Ok so he did, but he didn't mean it."

"I think he did." She smiles at me again.

"No he didn't. He didn't know what he was saying, and right now neither do you!" I ended it like that, because that's how it is.

That's when Darcy groans and puts his hand to his head. Bridget squeaks and practically runs off to her bedroom, to make herself "presentable".

"Hey," I say simply sitting on the coffee table by the sofa.

His eyes cloud with confusion, which I am still very thankful for. "Lizzy? Where am I?"

I smiled at him in relief. "My house. Your sister told me to take you here."

"Oh god," he groans as he tries to sit up. "I need to get home."

"No you need a shower," I reply poking him in the arm, "and breakfast."

As I was scrambling the eggs later he walks into the kitchen and I couldn't help but notice the fact that he was still shirtless, and that I also felt pretty naked in only PJ shorts and a t-shirt.

"Hey how do you like your eggs?" I ask trying to look anywhere but at him.

"Um scrambled," he replied simply and I smiled.

"Good," I say pulling the pan off the stove and gesturing to a chair for him to sit at, then pouring some of the eggs onto his plate.

"What if I'd said sunny-side-up?" he asked as I put some on a plate for me and leave the rest for Bridget.

"Then I'd have said tough," I replied handing him a fork and sitting down. "So… um did you lose your shirt?" I ask him very awkwardly.

He shifts a bit uncomfortably. "No it was still wet."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I panicked and poured water on you trying to wake you up." I still don't know why I blushed at this.

"Yeah I remember-" he starts but before I could freak out Bridget bursts into the room decked out in her summery best and I feel naked again, even though it's Darcy who's still shirtless.

"Hello sister dearest!" she says overly sweetly then looks at Darcy with a pseudo-surprised look. "Oh my! Who are you?"

"Bridget shut up. You know who he is. You helped me carry him in last night," I state simply and she glares at me.

"So where are you guy's parents?" Darcy asks politely changing the subject.

Bridget shrugs. "Hell if we know."

Darcy nods. "A lot like my family then. I see my mom on holidays pretty much and my dad died right after Georgie was born."

I frowned a little. "Dad travels, constantly, and mom dates."

"Or works out," Bridget adds. "Sundays are usually the days me and Lizzy have to ourselves."

Darcy nodded again. "Yeah Georgie and I do stuff like that. It's weird that I'm usually the one picking her up from practices and forging mom's signature for her."

"That's really sweet of you," Bridget practically swooned.

"Bridget will you do the dishes while I take Darcy home?" I had asked her that but by the time I got home they still weren't done.

Once we were both in the car, Darcy wearing one of Bridget ex-boyfriends shirts, which was way too tight, I asked him if he needed to go by Janie's.

"Why?"

"To get your car."

He nods. "I guess so." He then saw his cell phone in my cup holder and pats his pocket.

"Sorry I used it to call your sister last night," I reply to his unasked question hoping he doesn't want to know how I got it out to call her.

"Did you-" he never finished because I smiled hard and blushed and he understood how it had happened. "Oh… thanks."

I blushed again as we pulled into Janie's driveway because I remembered the arm caressing while I was on the phone last night.

"Thanks for last night," he said awkwardly as he climbed out of the car.

"It's ok," I reply as he shuts the door and I drive off.

When I got home all Bridget says to me is, "He really does love you," and I'm too exhausted to correct her.