The Secret Diary of Ashley Juergens (2 page)

7:30 P.M.

I passed Amy in the hallway on the way to the dining room and she looked like she had seen a ghost. She had such a death grip on the handle of her French horn case that I said she must be hiding something really important in there. She freaked out and asked me why I would think that. Geez, she can’t even take a joke. I was going to ask how her first day of high school was but she went straight into the bathroom. She even took her French horn in with her. I know she really loves playing that thing, but that was ridiculous. Isn’t there anybody in this house I can have a decent conversation with?

Dad asked how Principal Miller punished me at school. I told him going to school was my punishment.

I have to figure out where I’m going to hide this thing. It has to be somewhere my parents and Amy never look. . . . I’ve got it. I’ll hide it in my duvet. But if my dad does happen to find it, I’d just like to say: Dad, I’m not having sex, I’ve never had sex, and I’m not planning to have sex for a while.

During dinner, Amy sided with my dad after he lectured me again about my clothes. He said he was going to keep it up until I changed out of the offending outfit. Sorry, Dad. Not going to happen.

And thanks, Amy, for backing up your sister, as usual.

Amy’s been moody ever since she got back from band camp. You’d think this would bring us closer because I’m usually pretty moody but it hasn’t. Amy hardly speaks and when she does, it’s only “yes” or “no” answers. I tried acting interested and asked about band camp but she didn’t want to talk about it. She said she played her French horn and marched around and that’s all there is to know. That’s pretty much what I thought happened. I don’t get why you have to go to band camp to practice the same things you already practice at school but it’s Mom and Dad’s money.

The other day I Googled “geekiest band instrument” and here’s what came up: (1.) French Horn, (2.) Tuba, (3.) Clarinet, (4.) French Horn, (5.) Cymbals. That’s right, Google considers the French horn so nerdy it listed it twice. I told Amy she should have gone with the saxophone, but she never takes my advice.

Amy being at band camp made this past summer the
BEST SUMMER EVER
(or so I’d say if I was prone to that sort of hyperbole). I had the house all to myself and pretended I was an only child. I didn’t have to listen to Amy play her French horn all the time and I didn’t have to see her two annoying best friends, Lauren and Madison. Lauren is such a snob and Madison is the worst gossip ever. Dad was pretty busy at the furniture store and working really late hours so he wasn’t really around either. My mom pretty much left me alone to watch my
Twilight Zone
and movie marathons. She still complained about my clothes, which were not
appropriate
even though it was summer and this
young lady
was hot.

It was quiet with Amy not around. I didn’t hear from her while she was away except for one night when she called my cell phone. She sounded funny, like she was upset or something, almost like she’d been crying, but she told me she was just tired. I asked if she wanted to talk to Mom or Dad. She said no, she wanted to talk to me. I waited for her to say something but she said never mind. She was just homesick and wanted to hear my voice. When she got home I asked her what had happened that night to make her want to call me, but she acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. She hasn’t said much else to me since.

8:32 P.M.

Amy’s mood lifted a little bit after dinner. Some guy called her. If you know Amy at all you would think I was lying because she has never, ever had a boy call her at home. Well, there was that one time in seventh grade, but they were doing a science project together and he had to call her. But this was the first time a boy called of his own free will just to talk to her. And he was nervous, too. I know because I was the one who answered the phone. I wouldn’t have believed he was calling for Amy if I hadn’t heard it for myself. His voice was very squeaky and he spoke like he was reading what he wanted to say off of a piece of paper when he asked me, “Is Amy Juergens home and could I please speak with her if she isn’t busy?” When I asked him to identify himself he told me his name was Ben Boykewich. I told him I’d never heard Amy mention his name before. This seemed to catch him off guard because he started stammering but eventually was able to explain they had spoken in the hallway at school today and he was calling to ask her something. I told Amy a boy was calling her and she looked as surprised as I was. Mom and Dad couldn’t believe it either, but were very excited a boy was interested in Amy. Well, Mom was. Dad was more cautiously excited/concerned.

Amy and Ben’s conversation was pretty short, but from what I could hear Amy didn’t remember the hallway conversation this Ben guy thought was so memorable. But she agreed to go out with him anyway. At least it made Mom and Dad forget about me getting in trouble at school, which was a nice side effect. This guy Ben isn’t so bad. Amy and Ben are going to the high school football game and then to some dance. This is Amy’s first date. I was happy for her until my parents told me I have to go to the football game with them so we can watch Amy march around the field with the rest of the band. They even suggested I go to the dance. They want me to dress like a little Victorian doll but also go to a dance with my sister and all two of her high school friends? No wonder teenagers are so confused.

The dance is being put together by Grace Bowman’s church. She goes to school with Amy. And to make everything worse (because that’s what Mom and Dad love to do) my parents have final approval over my outfit before I walk out the door to a place I don’t even want to go. I was able to talk them out of chaperoning in exchange for wearing a turtleneck.

6:30 P.M.

That guy Ben just came to pick up Amy. His voice was still squeaky. It was kind of annoying but Amy seemed to think it was cute. The way Mom and Dad were acting you would think Amy and Ben were going to the prom or something. They were all over Ben, telling him when Amy’s curfew is and to call if they were going to be late. Dad even yelled after them not to have sex as they were walking down the driveway and the look on Amy’s and Ben’s faces was great. When they aren’t embarrassing me, it is really fun to watch Mom and Dad embarrass Amy.

Ben’s dad was sitting in the car with the engine running so my dad ran out and introduced himself, but it turned out to be Ben’s driver. My dad seemed relieved there was some sort of chaperone, even if it was a driver. This guy Ben must have a lot of money, or he spent everything he had just to impress Amy.

9:35 P.M.

Mom and Dad and I just got back from the game. It was not exciting. It alternated between guys running into each other and my sister marching around in place with the rest of the band. She’s gotten better at marching—she only ran into someone once—so maybe band camp was worth it after all. I hope high school is more exciting by the time I get there.

My dad kept talking over the band to remind me that guys like nice girls and that’s why that Ben guy called Amy. He was talking so loud people were starting to stare, so I kept my eyes on the field. That’s when I noticed this majorette named Adrian surrounded by a ton of guys, and I don’t think my dad would label her “nice.” Her uniform was a lot shorter than the other majorettes’. That outfit would get her sent to your office for sure, Principal Miller. And she would definitely receive a complimentary sweatshirt. I didn’t bring any of this up to my dad because I didn’t want to start debating his bogus theory in public.

Then I spotted a lot of guys staring at Grace, one of the cheerleaders, and she’s a nice girl, so maybe Dad and I are both wrong. I noticed Amy kept staring at the drummer in the band, I think his name is Ricky, and Ricky kept staring at Adrian. I remember seeing Ricky when we dropped Amy off at band camp. Amy was pretty excited when she saw him there, too. I guess they didn’t hit it off because she’s the only girl out there he isn’t paying attention to.

I felt bad for Amy until I looked over and saw Ben watching the game with his two friends, Henry and Alice. Ben never took his eyes off Amy during the whole game. I wonder if Amy is going out with Ben to try to get Ricky’s attention. If that’s the case, it’s not working. I hope she gives Ben a chance because he really likes her. Sure, his voice is squeaky and he has a lot of nervous energy and he doesn’t have much musical talent, but maybe he can get her out of this funk she’s been in lately.

3:17 P.M.

I’ve changed my mind about the whole “journals are stupid” thing.

After coming home from school and being reminded how crazy my family is, this notebook will be very handy in documenting my story if I ever decide to make good on my threat to divorce my parents and seek emancipation. I know what you’re thinking, that I’m all snark and no action. Well, you’re wrong.

When I was eight years old I got into a big fight with my parents because they insisted I take up the recorder, since Amy had so much fun playing the French horn. I argued that being able to play “Hot Cross Buns” (also known as “Three Blind Mice”) on a piece of wood wasn’t going to give me an enriching life experience. So when they were both preoccupied doing things around the house, I snuck out and walked to the courthouse on Lombardy Road. I approached the most lawyerly looking man I saw. He was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase and looked like he could get fast results. I told him I was interested in divorcing my parents and asked if he wanted to take on the case. He sat me down and said he couldn’t. He said he was an attorney but he handled more criminal cases. I told him my parents were criminally insane but he said he doubted that. I was too smart to have been raised by crazy parents. He also said he couldn’t take the case because he has a daughter a year or two older than me, and he made the mistake of leaving her and has regretted it ever since. He said I should take my time and think about if that’s what I really want. Then he gave me his card and said to call him if I ever needed real help. He wanted to make sure I got back safe so he sent me home with a police escort. Mom and Dad were more embarrassed than upset when I pulled up to the house in the back of a police cruiser.

In any case, I plan to make this journal very detailed, in case it’s ever entered into evidence. Then I’ll call Ruben. I heard he’s a district attorney now.

I should have brought him home with me that day so he could see for himself that the only thing missing in this house is Rod Serling. He’d be right at home sitting on a stool in our living room, able to jump up at a moment’s notice to begin his intro to
The Twilight Zone: Juergens Family Edition.
He seems like the only one who would be able to put my thoughts into just the right context:

If this really were possible then I’m sure my mom would do something completely embarrassing, like ask Rod to please put out his cigarette, and my dad would say something like, as long as there’s no sex in the Twilight Zone I can stay as long as I want. I watched another
Twilight Zone
marathon the other weekend and the scariest thing about that show is how much sense it makes. And it made me jealous of the kid who can wish people into the cornfield.

10:18 P.M.

Amy was in a very good mood after Ben dropped her off. I’ve seen Amy this happy only when she made the high school marching band and when she found out that cute drummer, Ricky, was also going to band camp.

Her date with Ben couldn’t have been that good. It was a football game followed by a Christian dance. All I heard from her was they had really good food and she danced with Ben. She talked about all the different kinds of food she ate for like ten minutes straight and spent maybe thirty seconds telling me about slow dancing with Ben. She even missed the one interesting thing that did happen at the dance. That majorette Adrian kissed Grace’s boyfriend, Jack, and the whole school saw because Grace’s brother Tom busted them. At least, that’s what I overheard Madison and Lauren telling Amy in her room. Those two are annoying, but at least they know right away when something interesting happens. Not that you couldn’t tell something like that was going to happen just by watching Adrian at the football game. Guys like nice girls? Yeah, right. So I was
RIGHT
and Dad was
WRONG
.

Then Lauren and Madison closed the door and I couldn’t hear what they were talking about with Amy because they were whispering. Whatever they were saying . . . it sounded serious. I even thought I heard Amy crying at one point but I can’t be sure because Mom caught me lingering in the hall and told me to go to bed and stop spying on Amy and her friends. She just wanted me out of the way so she could listen in.

Usually I don’t get caught sneaking around like that. During the football game, when I couldn’t take my dad talking about “nice” girls anymore, I excused myself to go to the bathroom and went looking for Ben’s driver in the parking lot. He was pretty easy to spot. He was the only guy reading a book in the front seat of a town car. He rolled down the window and I apologized for bothering him, but I had a few questions about his employer’s son. Sure, Amy and I don’t have anything in common, don’t understand each other, and fight sometimes, but she’s still my sister. I have to make sure Ben is a nice guy. I asked the driver if Ben takes girls like Amy out all the time. He said not girls like Amy—not any girls actually. I asked if Ben’s intentions toward Amy were honorable. He said they were. I asked if Ben had ever been in love. The driver said not before tonight. Ben sure moves fast. I told the driver to make sure no funny business went on in the backseat, and by funny business I meant sex. He said not to worry, so I wished him good night and left. When I got back to the bleachers my dad asked what took so long. I said there was a long line for the bathroom. See? I’m a pro.

When I got home from school the next day, Amy’s mood, aka the pendulum, had swung to the other side. I don’t even know what happened. My day was the same. School, boredom, Principal Miller gave me that smelly school sweatshirt again, I left it out by the basketball court, then I came home.

And the phone rang. That’s when things took a turn for the worse. It was that snob, Lauren, for Amy. I made sure to give her my best stink voice, then walked into Amy’s room to hand her the phone like I always do, except this time she started yelling at me about barging in. She said she was upset about her privacy, but I think something else is going on. Amy doesn’t really get mad. She’s never yelled at me for walking into her room before. I’m always the one who gets annoyed, who complains about not having enough privacy, who tells everyone to mind their own business. At least she gave the same attitude over the phone to that snob Lauren. That was long overdue.

I know Amy pretty well. Not only because I live with her but also because of that stupid sisterly bond thing. I know something’s up. And not because of the stuttering, the sweating, and the red face. I could have walked into her room backward and known she’s not being the usual, boring Amy. I asked if it was because of Ben. She said it wasn’t, but what else could it be?

My dad always said boys would make our lives more complicated. They are a slippery slope that would eventually lead to sex. Could Amy be having sex? I don’t think so. I’ve heard you look different after you lose it. So I walked around Amy’s room and looked at all of her pictures. There were the usual family pictures . . . boring. There were some with Lauren and Madison . . . whatever. Then there were a few from band camp—Amy waving good-bye after we dropped her off, her and another French horn player, and the day we picked her up from band camp. I compared the picture from the first day of band camp with the picture from the last day of band camp. Amy
did
look different. But maybe it was just the extra sun, the clean air, and being away from me and our parents. I told myself this was dumb. Amy looked the same, even after dating Ben. She might be a few pounds heavier, but maybe the “freshman fifteen” applies to high school, too.