Dear Diary

By

Nancy Bush

Published by Nancy Bush
Visit Nancy Bush’s official website at
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Copyright © Nancy Bush, 1990
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Extended Imagery
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Author’s Note

We’ve all had them. Those long ago romances that began in high school, or maybe even before… Recently, I even ran into a college boyfriend from over
thirty years
ago.

It’s amazing how your brain just goes right back there. Wow. That spring term when everything felt possible…

DEAR DIARY is that kind of story. Rory Camden and Nick Shard meet in the third grade and become fast friends, and as the years unfold, though they kind of want to try a relationship, Rory’s basic mistrust of men‌—‌from witnessing her father’s infidelity‌—‌keeps her from trusting her feelings.

But Nick has other ideas and while Rory writes down her hopes and fears in her diary, Nick plans ways to subvert the walls she’s built around herself. He thinks he’s making serious progress until tragedy strikes and puts any chance they have to be together in jeopardy.

DEAR DIARY is one of my favorite stories. (I know I always say this, but I really mean it!) And Nick and Rory are two of my favorite characters.

Enjoy!

Nancy Bush

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DEAR DIARY — NANCY BUSH

Prologue

Rory Camden sat on the edge of the pier, her knees drawn to her chest, the weathered boards beneath her smelling of heat and salt and seaweed. She turned her face to the dusty blue afternoon sky and inhaled deeply. Nick would be returning any minute. Her pulse beat rapidly, and she was anxious, almost giddy. The time was now, to bare her feelings, to admit how much she cared. She’d waited too long, been too guarded in the past and it was time to take a leap of faith.

She drew several quick, hard breaths. Her insides were a mass of quivering jelly. It was difficult to cast all her old doubts aside, but she was ready for the confrontation, the moment she would tell Nick what she felt for him. Shivering in spite of the heat, Rory rubbed her arms. It was strange to think about taking that next step with Nick; they’d been friends for so long.

And the truth was she loved him. She’d finally faced it, though it had been very hard for her to do so. She’d hidden her emotions deep inside for years, behind a protective wall of indifference. She didn’t want to suffer the same miserable tangle of hatred and bitterness that both her mother and her sister had. No way. She’d believed she would never trust her heart to a man because she knew how that ended.

But then she hadn’t counted on Nick.

She shook her head, sun-kissed streaks of blond shimmering in her shoulder-length dark-brown tresses. The movement caused her sunglasses to slip down her nose. Pulling them off, she concentrated on the horizon, searching for an approaching black dot. John Marsden’s yacht should be pulling into the marina anytime now. Nick had asked Rory to come fishing with him, but she’d declined, and her refusal had led to their argument. He’d told her he loved her, and those same words had frozen in Rory’s throat. Fear had won out. She’d gazed at him mutely, her eyes widening with the sting of tears, but she simply couldn’t muster the words. God, what an idiot she’d been. And now she’d paid the price because he’d walked out.

Leaping to her feet, Rory dusted off the back of her jeans, grinding her teeth together in self-disgust. What was wrong with her? Running away from her feelings hadn’t changed them. If anything, it had just deepened them. Hadn’t she learned anything from her parents’ divorce?

Searching the eye-blinding horizon, finally she saw the outline of an approaching boat. Its hull was white and there was a bit of blue. Rory shaded her eyes with her hand, her heart beating hard and deep. The
Aqua Knot
would be docking soon.

The sun’s rays beat into her scalp and perspiration dampened her throat and hands. She began pacing the dock, annoyed at herself. This was no time to be faint-hearted. When Nick arrived she was going to hit him with the truth, and after that… well, it was up to him.

Stopping at the end of the dock, she lifted her chin and waited. The breeze off Puget Sound blew strands of hair across her face, but she scarcely noticed. Her hands were clenched at her sides‌—‌a brave soldier facing an uncertain future.

The yacht grew closer and Rory’s whole body slumped, half-relief, half-disappointment. It wasn’t the
Aqua Knot
. She watched as
Camille’s Folly
bumped and rubbed squeakily against the pilings as it docked. The captain, if one could believe his rank by the insignia on his hat, jumped inelegantly from the boat’s bow, landing a few feet from Rory.

He turned toward her as if he’d been expecting her. “Has the Coast Guard left?” he asked tersely.

“The Coast Guard?” Rory repeated blankly.

“Have you seen them?”

“No, I, uh…”

He wasn’t listening. He turned and yelled back to someone on board. “They didn’t pass through here. Are you sure they got the message?”

“Positive,” the man on board declared.

“Well, hell.” He sucked air through his teeth.

Rory watched as he made quick strides past her to another man in a mechanic’s jumpsuit.
What’s wrong?
she thought, unabashedly listening in on the two men’s conversation, dread creeping up the small of her back.

“We got a mayday call from the
Aqua Knot
,” the captain relayed to the mechanic. “She was taking on a lot of water around one-thirty this afternoon. She mighta sank.”

Sank?
The blood left Rory’s head.

“You radioed the Coast Guard?” The mechanic pressed.

“First thing,” he snapped back, then reported the facts tersely, as a newscaster might. “Their GPS was faulty, it happened so fast we barely got a word of warning. No one knows for sure where they were.”

Rory took a step closer to the two men, straining to hear.

“The
Aqua Knot’s
captain sent the distress call to you?” the mechanic asked, reaching into his pocket to grab a rag and wipe the grime and sweat from his forehead.

“Sounded like a hysterical passenger. She said the captain was dead and the boat was taking on water.” He glanced back, his expression taut. “I’m gonna check with the Coast Guard and see about going back out there.”

“I have a radio inside and some other numbers to call,” the mechanic said and the two men disappeared into the nearby office.

Nick…
They were talking about Nick’s boat.
Sank?
Rory thought in a panicked disbelief. No. She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and searched the call log for a message. Nothing. No text. No voicemail.

Unable to stop shaking, she placed the phone back in her pocket, then covered her mouth, fighting a silent scream.

Nick.

I love you.

DEAR DIARY — NANCY BUSH

Chapter One

Brentwood Elementary
I met a new boy at school today. He’s in the third grade in my room. He got hit by those mean sixth-graders. There was lots and lots of blood. He saved my life!!!! His name is Nick.

Rory Camden narrowed her eyes at the sight of Tommy Whitlock and Sean Prior poking something on the ground with a stick. The boys’ chuckles were deep and malicious. Hate and injustice filled Rory’s nine-year-old heart. There was only one reason those awful sixth-graders would be enjoying themselves: they were torturing something.

She flung down her book bag and ran up behind them, too incensed to care there was no one else on the footpath that wound through the Scotch broom behind Brentwood Elementary.

“Stop that!” she yelled. “You stop that!”

Tommy’s head jerked up and Sean jumped. They both whipped around to glare at Rory. The dirt encrusted frog lying on the dusty ground scrambled upward, one leg dragging a little as he tried to head toward the stagnant pond on the north side of the trail.

“You hurt it!” Rory cried, her small hands fisting at her sides.

“Shut up.” Tommy turned his back on her. He caught sight of the maimed frog and jabbed his stick at it again, missing it. He then drew back his arm for another attempt to poke it. Rory launched herself at him like a flying missile, hitting him squarely in the middle of his back.

“Hey!” he bellowed.

She flailed and kicked with all her strength, prudence lost beneath a blinding anger. Tommy swore a word that singed Rory’s ears. Then Sean grabbed her by the hair and yanked so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

“Get outta here!” Sean screamed, dragging her off Tommy and shoving her backward.

Rory tripped over an exposed root, breathing hard. She could hardly see through the tears welling in her eyes. Her hair had been pulled free of its ponytail and fell in front of her face in a riotous tangle. “Leave it alone!”

“Mind your own business, you stupid bitch!” Sean hissed.

“Go play with yourself,” added Tommy.

“I’m gonna‌—‌I’m gonna—” Rory choked while getting up. “I’m gonna
tell.
”