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I walk over to her and put my arm around her shoulder. We rock back and forth.

I’m pretty weepy myself.

I know it’s time to end the session, but Dr. Fuentes doesn’t mention it.

Finally Maggie says, in a tiny voice, “You’re right.”

“Maggie, some things are beyond our control,” Dr. Fuentes says softly. “You can’t solve everyone’s problems. Yours are hard enough.”

“I want to get better,” Maggie says.

Cr. Fuentes nods, “I believe you. You’re here. That means you want to change.

Which is a good thing. Because anorexia can be very serious.”

Maggie blanches, “What can I do?”

“First of all, realise it may take awhile,” Dr. Fuentes replies. “What’s causing the problem—the tension, the family trouble—none of that will magically disappear.”

“Which means what? I won’t get better until it does?”

“No. you can get better. In our next session, we’ll begin mapping out a plan. To put Maggie first. Friday sound okay?”

“Sure,” Maggie shoots back.

“Meanwhile, try not to be so hard on yourself, Maggie. That’s step one. And remember, we’re born to eat. Our bodies want food, and they deserve it.”

“Okay,” Maggie murmurs.

The session has gone way overtime, and Dr. Fuentes leads us back to the waiting room, she shakes hands with both of us and says to Maggie, “beautiful people attract beautiful friends.”

That, Nbook, it her good-bye.

Homeroom

Yesterday, as we leave the session with Dr. Fuentes, everything seems fine.

Maggie’s happy. Her smile is back. I realise I’d practically forgotten what it looked like.

Ducky’s waiting for us outside and she flies into the car.

“So, how’d it go?” he asks.

“Fine,” Maggie says. “She’s a good therapist, Ducky. For future reference.”

She doesn’t go into detail. And Ducky doesn’t pry. I give him credit for that.

Well, we’re all I a good mood until we reach Maggie’s neighbourhood.

Somewhere around Pine Canyon Road, her smile disappears.

Ducky and I both notice I. we start telling jokes. Trying to lighten it up.

But when she gets out of the car and says good-bye, her face is all glum. She’s worried.

She’s home.

I can tell she’s rather be anywhere else in the world.

Later on, I call Dawn and tell her what happened. Dawn is amazed that I stayed for the session, but she’s glad I did. She tells me I’m a great friend.

I don’t see Maggie again until this morning at the lockers. She’s subdued. She mentions that she likes Dr. Fuentes but doesn’t seem to want to say much more than that.

I hope this works, Nbook.

I hope the atmosphere at her house doesn’t ruin everything.

Study hall

Brendan spots me with you in homeroom, Nbook.

The bell has already rung and I’m still writing.

He’s nt snooping or anything, just waiting for me.

When I finish he asks, “Are you okay? You’re looking sad.”

“I’m fine.”

“And you didn’t say hi. You always say hi.” He smiles. “Even to me.”

“Just—busy,” I say. “With plans for the Homecoming Bash.”

Which isn’t totally true. (Yet. But it will be.”)

We walk out of class together,. He’s being so friendly to me. And when we start talking about Vanish, he’s totally enthusiastic. Asking all about our set list and saying nice things about the tape. I can tell he’s trying to cheer me up,.

Unless it’s more than that.

Do you think he’s flirting with me, Nbook?

Should I care?

Nahh.

He’s a guy. He finds the qualifications for my No-Guys policy. Nothing he says will make a difference. One James is enough for a lifetime.

That’s not fair. Brendan does seem a lot nicer than James.

Although James seemed a lot nicer than James at first.

So you never know.

Oh, later on, Cece asks me why I’m so hostile to Brendan.

(Can you believe this, Nbook? She was spying on us.)

I tell her I wasn’t hostile. I didn’t feel hostile. Maybe matter-of-fact, that’s all.

She says Brendan’s cute. And nice. And she’s positive he likes me.

I tell her I’m not in a boyfriend mode.

Hey, ih she’s interested, I won’t stand in the way.

But she’s not.

At least I don’t think so.

Rehearsal

Oh, Nbook. I don’t know what’s going on.

I don’t’ believe in miracle cures. I’m a realistic person.

But shouldn’t Maggie be feeling a little better?

I mean, we have not gotten though one whole song without stopping for mer.

Her throat’s dry.

The keyboard keys are sticky.

She’s forgotten the words. The clues.

She can’t hit the high notes.

The Homecoming bash is in 10 days. We’re supposed to e getting tighter.

Maybe the garage is too crowded and noisy. Dawn’s here. Marina. Bruce’s cousin from Fresno. Patti’s parents.

Should I throw everyone out?

No. this is a rock band—they’re supposed to perform for noisy crowds.

Maybe it’s Justin. Is he making her nervous?

WHAT’S GOING ON?

Dawn is shooting me looks.

I’m going to talk to her. Don’t go away.

Sorry. Didn’t mean to be gone so long.

LOTS to report.

First. I meet Dawn at the trough, where the Chavezes are setting up for break. And eating. The band is in the middle of “Fallen Angel.”

Dawn’s about to say something, but the music suddenly stops.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Maggie calls out. She’s massaging her neck, looking pained. “My fault.”

Rico’s removing his guitar strap. He seems tired. “Let’s break, guys, okay?”

Everyone heads to the trough.

Except Maggie. She’s at the keyboard. Just sitting.

Dawn and I walk over to her.

028

Dawn tries to talk to her. I try to talk to her.

Nothing works. She’s a nervous wreck about the bash. Which she is now calling her “professional debut.”

She’s magnifying this, Nbook. She’s digging herself into such a deep hole, I don’t know how she’ll get out.

Now Justin decides to get into the act. She’s walking toward s now, a half-eaten donut in his hand.

I figure, (former crush) + (junk food) = (just what Maggie doesn’t need).

But he’s being very sweet. Saying don’t worry, you sound great, you look great, you’re going to steal the show, yada yada.

Dawn and I jump on the pro-Maggie bandwagon. We’re all complementing her.

Persisting. Maggie’s nodding her head, listening hard.

At one point Justin gently touches her arm. “Hey, just let the music take control.”

She flinches a little. (What’s with those two, Nbook?)

Soon the band heads back. Rico plays the opening chords to “Hey, Down There.”

And Maggie misses her entrance.

Dawn and I are looing at each other. The Homecoming Bash is crashing before my eyes.

Then the song starts again.

Maggie’s still as a plank. She looks as if she’s taking a math exam. But something happens when she begins the lyric.

Maybe it’s because she wrote it. Maybe it’s the topic--a girl who can’t give herself comfort and love until se steps outside herself.

Whatever. As the emotion takes over, Maggie leans into the keyboard. Her eyes close but her fingers aren’t missing a note.

The chatting in the garage peters out. Then it stops.

Maggie’s choice is soaring. The words are ringing clear and urgent, yet somehow they sound like a whisper in deepest confidence.

I’m so swept up, I don’t want the song to end.

And when it does, the garage is dead silent.

Maggie’s hands are resting on the last chord, her eyes still closed.

When she opens them, she looks a little bewildered. As if she’s just awoken from a dream in a place she didn’t expect to be.

I think Justin is the first to start clapping.

I know I’, the first to cheer out loud.

But in a second, we’re all screaming and whistling and stamping our feet.

Rico plants a big wet one of Maggie’s cheek. She’s turning red.

“She did it!” Dawn yells.

I have to sit down. The tension as turned me into a sack of jangled nerves.

But I’m relieved.

For the first time all night, I’m thinking, she can do it.

You know what? The rest of the songs are just as good. The band even plays through the scheduled break (and they never miss a trip to the through.)

When I call the end of rehearsal, we give them a standing ovation.

“You finally got your mojo working!” Mr. Chavez shouts.

Must be some ’70s term. (NOTE TO ME. Find out what a mojo is.)

Everyone’s happy. Maggie’s happy.

I’m really happy. Mainly because of Maggie. But also because of the band.

I HATE to admit this, Nbook. But I haven’t heard them sound this good since James was kicked out. for the first time, I don’t miss his playing.

So I’m dancing around, praising everybody, telling them the Homecoming Bash is going to be fantastic.

And for some reason, I start thinking about Brendan.

I don’t know why.

Then I see Maggie. She’s talking to Justin and Dawn

She’s beaming.

Thank god.

Wed 10/7

Study hall

Hey. Remember me, Nbook?

Don’t be hurt. After last week, I needed a break from writing.

OK. Update. The latest headlines.

FLASH!

VANISH LOOKING GOOD

Friday’s rehearsal sizzles. Saturday is a little ragged. Sunday we rest, Monday we’re hot again.

Only 3 mote days, Nbook!

Maggie’s singing is much better. Still slipping in and out, though. Saturday’s rough for her. Some big fight between Mr. and Mrs. Blume the night before, I gather.

Anyway, right after “This Is War,” I discover.

FLASH!

JUSTIN STILL CARES

About Maggie, that is. He leans over to me as Rico’s tuning his guitar and asks,

“Is she okay?”

He’s got this really concerned look in his eyes.

Last week I suspected he liked her. Now I’m sure.

Hmmm. Maybe Maggie will get a second chance with him after all.

029

Anyway, I tell Justin that Maggie’s fine.

And in case you’re wondering.

FLASH!

FUENTES STILL MAJOR FORCE IN BLUME’S LIFE

Well, a force anyway.

Before Friday’s session, though, Maggie almost freaks out. Papi has saisd I can’s go with her because Tio Luis is taking the family out to café Con Leche. Mami says that Maggie should go by herself anyway.

Breaking the news to Maggie is not easy. But she ends up going. And surviving just fine.

And going back to Monday.

She says she’s not feeling much or an improvement yet, but she’s learning a lot about herself. Dr. Funetes is helping her plan meals with the advice of a nutritionist.

(Oh. Guess what? I finally ask how she’s paying for this. Turns out her father is paying. Maggie just tells him she’s seeing a therapist and she doesn’t bat en eye. She des not, however, tell him why she’s going.)

I wish she were eating more now. She’s not.

Which is frustrating.

You know, Nbook, sometimes I still don’t get it. I mean, eating seems so easy.

Like walking. Or breathing.

Maggie san play the piano. Ace math exams. Sing.

But a simple think like put-food-in-mouth?

I guess it’s just not so simple for some people. Maybe I’ll never funny understand it.

I just tell myself. If she needs to take it slow, she needs to take it slow.

At least she’s on the right track.

Oh. One last

Flash

(Just a mini)

BREANDAN IS NO LONGER A GUY.

Guys are in the doghouse.

Brendan has moved out.

In my estimation, he has risen to another level.

He has become a Pal. Pals have certain qualities not fond in more guys.

They don’t deceive. They don’t think only about themselves. They listen. They’re thoughtful and friendly and have senses of humour.

They’re more like girls.

Not that Brendan is like a girl. He’s not. It’s just that in the quality of his personality—Why am I explaining this to myself? I know what I mean!

Anyway, the other day, Brendan brings me a tape. A mix he’s made.

“What’s this for?” I ask.

“Just paying you back for the Vanish tape,” he says.

Nice, huh?

That’s what I mean.

He’s different in homeroom too. Not so stiff and shy. Lately he slips me these corny notes. Jokes like, “When it comes to homeroom, I can take it or Leavitt.”

Real groaners, but that’s okay. They’re cute.

Plus, he likes my friends. Especially Sunny, who flirts with him (when she’s actually in homeroom, which isn’t that often). When I introduce him to Maggie, he’s thrilled. He loved her voice on the tape. (And, believe it or not, he has never heard of Hayden Blume, which makes Maggie appreciate him even more.)

I don’t want to make a big deal of this, Nbook. I just meant to say that he’s a change of pace from the guys that have become familiar to me at Vista.

It’s refreshing to be around someone who’s newer to the school than I am. It’s good for my self-esteem.

Thurs., 10/8

4:35 P.M.

Nbook, I am RED.

FURIOUS.

Look at this. Look at what I find today in my locker.

030

Like I need this?

Two days before our biggest concert. Two days before my debut as manager of a professional rock group. When I have to worry about buying spare electrical cords.

Fixing the mikes. Making sure the risers are set up. Keeping my best friend (and lead singer) happy and healthy.

AAAAAAGGGH!

This is not cute, James Kodaly.

Why do I bother keeping his notes, Nbook? Am I perverse or what?

I know why I do it. Because I might need them. As evidence. For something. I don’t know what.

Oh. You know what he translation is? “YOu can run but you can’t hide.” It takes me practically the whole day to figure that out.

Oh so sweet. He sure knows how to win a girl’s heart.

Whenever I see James in the hall, I feel angry. I can’t even look at him.