o 922034c59b7eef49 (5 page)

I know he's mad, so I follow him. Soon we're out of sight of the garage door, and

James stops walking. “Hi,” I say.

He whirls around. “Don't you ever treat me like that,” he says.

“Like what?” I reply.

“Like, make fun of me.”

“I wasn't making fun of you!”

“Yeah? Well, what's in your pocket?”

I am so angry and frustrated, I pull you out, Nbook. I flip to the Max Endor

drawing and shove it toward him. “There. Read it!” I snap. “It's what Maggie and I were talking about.”

“It's, like, a comic strip.” He looks closely at it. “It's good.”

I grab it out of his hand. “Are you happy now?”

“Sorry, Amalia. I just thought you were keeping secrets from me.”

“Even if I was, so what?” I'm almost shouting now. “Do you have to know

everything about me?”

“I said I'm sorry.” James tries to put his arm around me. “How come you never

told me you were so talented?”

He's smiling at me, but now I'm furious. “You think you can make everything

better, just by complimenting me?”

“Whoa. Come on, Amalia, it's not such a big deal.”

“Like, I'm so in love with you I'll let you insult me and be suspicious and accuse me of being in love with everybody in the world and insult my friends and then expect me to forgive you and act like I'm your girlfriend? Why? Just because you're sixteen?”

“Uh, slow down,” James says. “What are you saying? You're not my girlfriend?”

My jaw is hanging open, Nbook. It's like he hasn't heard one word of what I've

said.

“Stick to girls your own age,” I mutter.

I turn. Then I walk around the garage, around the house, and all the way to the

corner gas station, where I call home.

A few minutes later, Isabel picks me up. I am crying and she asks why.

I tell her I've broken up with a guy who wasn't even really my boyfriend.

Jan 5

1st draft, letter to James

This is Amalia. She is feeling pretty embarrassed. She just did something really

stupid.

This is James. He doesn't know what happened. He was just being himself, and

Amalia started yelling at him, then walked away.

James is wondering what is going through Amalia's mind. He's wondering why

she didn't speak to him in school today. And why she hasn't called him. Maybe he's a little angry too.

Well, Amalia doesn't blame him. And she would like to call. But she knows she

will not find the right words to say. She will open up her mouth and start another argument.

See, Amalia's pretty confused too. She likes James a lot. She thinks he's cute. She loves the way he plays guitar. She wants to go out with him and get to know him more.

But James does a few things she wishes he wouldn't do. Like assume she's his

girlfriend. And get mad at her for talking to other guys. And be suspicious of her for the most harmless, innocent things.

Amalia doesn't want to be James's enemy. She still hopes they can talk things out.

Can they?

Amalia hopes James will answer soon.

Tues 1/6

7:30 A.M.

Mami says dreams are really messages from your subconscious. They're about the

unsettled things in your life. Even if they don't seem like they are.

Well, Nbook, this dream is pretty obvious. Mikey is on my mind.

When I head downstairs for breakfast, I'm going to tell Isabel I have made a decision.

Tomorrow, after school, when she goes to GAEA, I'm going to go with her. To officially sign up.

1/6

8:34 P.M.

My mind is spinning, Nbook. I don't know how I can write about everything that

happened today.

First of all, I'm walking up the school steps and James is standing against a pillar, talking to Rico. He turns toward me with no expression on his face. Like he doesn't know me.

I say hello, take out the letter I wrote, and hand it to him. Then I go to my locker.

I see him once during the day. After lunch he walks up to me and says, “I'll drive you home today.”

Not a question. A statement.

I'm happy about this but a little nervous. I tell Maggie about it at our lockers, after last period. She looks really worried and volunteers to go with me in James's car. Sort of like a chaperone. I think it's silly but she insists.

Maggie and I walk out of school together. At the curb, James is holding open the

passenger door of his car. I ask if we can give Maggie a ride, but he shakes his head. “It's personal,” he says.

We leave her standing on the sidewalk, looking worried.

James turns on a tape. He doesn't say a word as he pulls onto Las Palmas Drive.

And he passes right by Royal Lane instead of turning toward my house.

“James, that was my block,” I remind him gently.

“I know,” he says.

Soon we're at Las Palmas County Park. He pulls into a space in a deserted part of the parking lot.

Next thing I know, we're walking among the trees. I have never been to this place before.

In the distance I hear children's voices, but where we are, it is pretty deserted. We follow a nature path and end up by a pond. In the middle of the pond is a small island, and by its shore a couple of turtles are basking in the sun. James throws a rock at one of them, and it quickly pulls back its head.

James laughs and throws another rock. He thinks this is funny. I am starting to feel edgy.

I try to make myself comfortable. I take in the scenery. I turn toward the sun. I listen to the birds.

Without looking at me, James points to a grassy spot in the shade. “Sit.”

I sit down. James is pacing now, fumbling for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a crumpled-up sheet of paper. As he unfolds it, I realize it's my note to him.

“I read this,” he says.

I gulp. “Uh-huh?”

“You're a really good artist.”

“Thanks. But what did you think about the words?”

“I was confused—you know, the way you write James and Amalia instead of me and you.

That was a style, I guess.” James turns to me now. His brow is all scrunched up. “But I'm...happy. I—I thought I'd lost you.”

Right away my heart melts. “You were worried?”

“Me? No way!” James looks away and sighs. “Well, yeah, I guess. Maybe. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. It's...nice. It shows you like me. You want to work things out.”

James's face reddens. He exhales deeply, then throws another rock at the turtle island. For a long time he says nothing.

I try to make conversation, but James is in another world. Finally he sits down near me.

His body's facing mine, but he's looking at the ground.

When he gazes up, his eyes are moist. “Amalia, I know this sounds weird, but...”

His voice trails off.

“But what?” I ask.

“But...I really like you. I was trying to tell you that at the New Year's party.”

“Well, I like you too, James--”

“No, I really like you. I mean...like no one else. Ever. In my whole life.”

I am stunned. All I can say is, “What?”

“I know. You can't believe it. I can't either. I mean, I can, but it's weird—I shouldn't feel

—a guy my age--”

My tension is lifting. James is tripping over his words. He's so unlike his confident self.

He's sounding like me.

All I want to do is comfort him. I stand up and reach my arms out.

Next thing I know we're embracing, rocking back and forth. His face is buried in my shoulder.

“I don't think it's weird at all,” I say softly. “I mean, we're only three years apart, James.”

“And I'm the one acting like a little kid,” James mumbles. “Sorry I got so suspicious. I guess it was because of that ankle bracelet. When I saw you weren't wearing it, something just snapped, I guess. I didn't even think it would be that important to me but it was.”

He pulls away from my shoulder and I see tears in his eyes.

I smile. “So, I guess that means you want us to work it out, huh?”

James doesn't answer. Not with words, at least. He just leans toward me.

I close my eyes, and we kiss.

I don't know how long it lasts. All I know is that it feels way too brief.

When it's over, I'm feeling light-headed and happy. Now it's my turn to bury my head in his shoulder.

“I think about you all the time, Amalia,” James says, almost in a whisper. “I'll do anything to keep you in my life. Anything.”

Wed 1/7

study hall

I was a fool, Nbook.

A total fool.

James is the sweetest guy.

As we drive home from the park, he sings to me. Then he promises he will pick me up for the next day of school (today).

Later, he calls me just to ask how dinner was.

This morning, he calls before he leaves to make sure I'm ready to go. (Isabel things this is all hilarious. She calls him James the Puppydog. Which, I suppose, is better than Big Tooth Lover Boy.)

Anyway, he shows up on time, blowing his horn and waking up the whole neighborhood.

I run outside. I have long pants on, to cover up the ankle bracelet I am wearing. I want to surprise him.

As I climb into the car, I cross my legs so the bracelet shows. He is so busy singing along to a tape, he doesn't notice the bracelet until we're at a stoplight. Then he does this huge double take.

He lets out a whoop, then leans over and wraps me in a hug.

Soon the cars behind us are blowing their horns. James breaks away, leans out the

window, and shouts, “Yo, blow it out your ears!”

He leans on his own horn, and he keeps leaning on it as he drives toward school.

I know I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. I'm laughing.

We park, then walk into school, arm in arm. Inside, he kisses me good-bye and runs off to his locker.

I spot Marina on the way to my locker. She winks and we exchange a high sign.