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Cool. We understand.

Science

Sorry, had to stop.

Now it’s lab report time. I can write for real.

Where was I?

Lunch. Maggie admits she’s having a hard time.

I say, “I see you’re trying.” (See? An “I” sentence.)

She seems upset. “I don’t like the way this feels.”

“What?” Dawn asks.

“The eating, the pressure, all of ti,” Maggie replies. “I can’t do this, guys.”

Now, I know I’m not supposed to give advice, Nbook. But I want to. the look on Maggie’s face is breaking my heart. So I think about what Mami would do in this situation. She meets lots of troubled kids in her social work. When things get really serious, she refers the, to a psychologist. This friend of hers. I forgot her name, but she’s supposed to be fantastic.

I can’t keep it in. “Maybe you should see someone,” I say. “Like a therapist.”

Maggie sighs. “Both my parents see therapists and it doesn’t do them any good.”

“How about a teacher?” Dawn asks. “Or a guidance counsellor?”

“No,” said Maggie. “I can’t talk to anyone in the school. Then everyone will find out.”

“How about your doctor?” I suggested. (I mean, anorexia IS a medical problem.)

“Dr. Fradkin still gives me lollipops at the end of checkups,” Maggie replies.

“Besides, eh and Dad play golf.”

Dawn and I fell silent.

The bell rings.

End of discussion.

P.S. She doesn’t eat the rest of her sandwich.

But she has a few bites of the salad.

Oh, well.

One.

Step.

At.

A.

Time.

Study hall

I can’t even concentrate the rest of the day.

After science I can Dawn with Maggie in the hallway Brendan lopes past us. He’s being led around by Rowena like a Chihuahua.

He’s kind of cute. Not drop-dead-hunk cute, but sort of slouchy-nice-guy cute, I wish he’s smile more. He never looks happy.

Maybe that’s because he’s always around Rowena.

Maggie says, “You know him?”

“Not really, I answer. “Why?”

“He smiled at you.” She raised an eyebrow. “he likes you, Amalia.”

A joke. Maggie’s sense of humour is coming back. This is a good sign.

I tell her my current Theory of Guys. I make it totally clear that I am so over them. Brendan is no exception, jesting or not. He is nobody.

But now Maggie and Dawn are both laughing at me.

I shut my mouth and take it.

I don’t mind.

Much.

Back again

Still study hall

Oh, by the way. They eyes are bluish, not all green.

Not that it matters.

It’s just reporting.

Home

Big news, Nbook.

Big BIG news.

It’s after school. I’m just about to slam my locker shut and run out, when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Oh, great, I think.

James.

I’m angry. I don’t know what I’m capable of doing.

I spin around.

It’s not James. It’s Christina McDonnell.

What a relief.

What a surprise.

A nice one. I don’t know her, but I’ve always wanted to. She seems cool. Friendly.

Pretty. Popular.

She asks if I’m the manager of Vanish. When I say yes, she brightens right up.

She says she’s a big fan. She saw us at the Battle of the Bands and we deserved first place.

Then she says something like, “I know this is short notice, and I’m sure your schedule is too body—but is there a chance you could play at the Vista Homecoming Bash on the 10th?

I’m thinking a job? Us?

The yes rushes out of my throat so fast as I choke on it.

Christine explains that the Bash isn’t really a date party. People will be coming in groups, mostly. A DJ will play tunes after our set.

Cool, I say.

She does on to say that she already approached Rico about this, and he said that I handle the pay arrangements and scheduling.

Pay?

I blurted out, “We’re free!”

Idiot! I’m screaming at myself.

But Christina has misunderstood me. She thinks, free as in available. she’s writing in her date book. “Good. I’ll pencil you in. now, what’s your normal fee?”

I’m no even rational. I’m not thinking. Part of me wants to laugh. Part of me want to pay her.

A third part of me pushes the other parts aside.

It says $500..

I have no idea where that comes from. I’m in shock.

I think Christina’s gong to faint. I think I’m going to faint.

I’m about to say “just kidding,” but she speaks first.

“It’s a deal.”

A deal?

I’ stunned.

I’m about to scream hallelujah.

But I’m also the manager, and I have to look after my group’s best interests. So I tell her I’ll have to check it out with the band at rehearsal tonight and then get back to her tomorrow.

Can you believe this, Nbook?

Our first paying gig?

I’M FLOATINNNNGGGG!

019

11:12 P.M.

Long night.

Where to begin?

Okay. Start a the good part.

Mami drives me to Rico’s. but because she came home late from work, I’m the last one at rehearsal.

I notice Justin hanging out with Bruce at the snack table (“The trough,” as Mr.

Chavez calls it). It see Maggie playing keyboard, ignoring him. This is not good. I make a mental note to talk to her later.

Then I see Rico. He’s grinning.

I assume he’s told everyone about Christina’s offer. But no one seems excited.

Suddenly he jacks up his amp and strikes a loud TWWANNNNNG! On his guitar.

“Yo, listen up, everybody! Amalia has a big announcement!”

He’s left all the glory to me. (I love Rico. Even if he s a guy.)

I jump onto the platform and grab Maggie’s mike. She’s giving me this curious look.

Everyone bursts into wild applause when I tell her about the gig.

I save the best part about the money for last.

When they hear that, they’re screaming. Jumping on me. Hugging me. Lifting me off the ground.

“I said 500, not 500,000!” I shout.

No one cares. I could have said 50, and they’d be happy.

Rico starts playing “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow,.” His parents announce they’re getting ice cream and snacks to celebrate. I’m feeling fantastic.

Then I look at Maggie.

She’s still at her keyboard. Sitting. Her brow is all wrinkled.

When she sees me, she smiles. But I’m not fooled.

Something’s wrong.

I wait until the snack break to approach her. By that time, we’ve settled into rehearsal and played through a few songs.

While everyone is pigging out, Maggie off in her corner with a bottle of spring water.

I ask her if she’s OK.

Fine, fine.

I wanted to say something about her eating, but this isn’t the right time. So I remark that she seems to be ignoring Justin.

She shrugs. She says they’re still friends, just her crush on him is over. No big deal.

We it, she sips.

Finally I ask how she feels about the Homecoming Bash.

Her face tightens up. “Great news,” she said quietly.

“Don’t knock me over with your excitement,” I say.

I meant it as a joke., but Maggie doesn’t smile. She tells me the date is too soon.

She doesn’t feel ready.

I reminded her she knows the numbers cold.

She tells me it’s not just a question of knowing. The songs need rewriting. The bridge to “Slow Down,” the second verse of this, the third verse of that...

I assure her they’re fine and no one will notice.

“I notice,” she replied. “They’re my words. I can’t sing them if they stink. I have enough trouble singing anything these days. I’m straining above the middle 6. Maybe I’m getting a node on my throat. I’ll be lucky if I have a voice by the Homecoming Bash.”

“Maggie, you just need to relax,” I say.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to make a fool of yourself before the whole school. You’re not tired all the time because you can’t eat right. You don’t have to worry about looking fat—”

“You’re not fat!”

Once again, wrong, wrong, wring, WRONG thing to say.

“It’s too much pressure, Amalia. Okay?”

Justin and Bruce are looking at us now.

Maggie storms away.

I pretend to be busy with my set list.

Well, Maggie comes back and plays the rest of the rehearsal. She’s such good actress. She doesn’t let her mad mood show at all.

On her way out after rehearsal she apologises to me. Then she disappears into the waiting limo.

I try to be UP, but I feel awful.

At home, I call Dawn and tell her what happened. She thinks Maggie will get over it. She reminds me that anorexia is about low self-esteem, and maybe the Bash is just he thing to turn it around for Maggie.

Maybe.

Unless it goes the other way.

All night ling I’m worrying that she’s backsliding.

That’s another thing I learned on the internet. Sometimes an anorexics’ recovery cam be like a roller coaster—the condition can get worse just when it seems to be getting better.

After I talked to Dawn tonight, I almost called Maggie. But it was already too late.

Or so I thought,

I was stupid.

I should have called her,.

It’s definitely out of the question now.

Way to go, Vargas.

Night

Or morning

Hard to tell

NOTE FOR TOMORROW:

DR. FUENTES!!

That’s the name of the therapist

Ask Mami about her.

Tues., 9/29

Homeroom

Plan of attack action:

Push the idea of Dr. Feuntes. But don’t push too hard.

Just tell the truth. Say what Mami said. Dr. F is one fo the coolest women on the planet. She’s young. She’s a great listener. She’s a pro. She doesn’t talk down to kids.

She’s practically one of us.

You can’t get a better recommendation of that.

Study hall

Lots to tell.

The minor news first.

I see James before school. He doesn’t look at me.

I see him after homeroom. He walks the other way.

Maybe he’s given up.

Hurray.

OK, enough ink wasted on that.

The important news.

Morning. Before school. Lockers.

First, Christina rushes up to me and asks about Vanish’s decision.

When I tell her yes, she’s thrilled. And guess what? She already has a pre-signed cheque for $500 and she gives it to me ON THE SPOT.

I’m staring at the cheque as Christina leaves. Like it’s radioactive. I have never held so much $$!

Both Dawn and Maggie are making faces. Like, what a big shot.

I calmly tell them I’m going to take the money and go to Mexico tonight.

I’m joking, but you know, Nbook, it wouldn’t be a bad idea...

020

Anyway, that’s not the real important news.

That happens next.

I’m noticing Maggie’s in a better mood. She apologises again for what she said at rehearsal last night. She says she was so mad at herself, she went home and cried herself to sleep.

I forgive her.

Dawn’s very sympathetic: “The Homecoming Bash is a big deal...no wonder you were tense...it’s a lot of pressure...,” ect.

Maggie says she’s thinking of taking a yoga class. To ease the stress.

Decide to open the Big Subject. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Anything,” Maggie says.

I say I’ve thought of a great person for her to talk to. I tell her about Dr. Fuentes.

Dawn’s nodding, trying to look positive.

But Maggie’s not saying a thing.

So I figure she’s feeling pushed. Drop back and punt, or whatever that saying is.

Time to change the subject.

Only I can’t think of another subject to change to, and I can see the panic stating to creep into Dawns face—

And suddenly the bell rings.

“I’ll think about it,” Maggie says.

We run off to class.

Uh-uh. It’s not ever.

Next time I see her, it’s lunch.

Dawn and I sit at her table. She’s picking at a salad.

She starts firing questions—where does Dr. Fuentes live, how old is she, what are her credentials, ect.

My heart is sinking. I now Maggie. She’s looking for a flaw. one strike and Dr.

Fuentes is out.

I answer everything and they Maggie falls silent again.

“It’s worth a try,” Dawn says meekly. “isn’t it?”

“This therapist doesn’t know me,” Maggie finally replied. “Or my teachers of my family.”

“But that’s good,” Dawn insists.

I give her a look that means, Go easy on her.

But Maggie says, “I know it’s good. That’s what I meant. She’s a stranger. She pays you to listen and she keeps secrets.”

I don’t expect to hear this.

Neither does Dawn.

“I could called her,” I said tentatively. “You know, set up an appointment...”

Maggie sighs. “I guess...”

Don’t worry, Nbook. I don’t jump up and dance on the table.

But I want to.

Language Arts

Even more news. Late-breaking headline:

021

Well, a little. He’s VERY shy.

But today I had this conversation with him. After study hall.

He’s in the hallway, looking kind of lost. I feel sorry for him. I say hi, no big deal.

He actually blushes.

Anyway, we’re going the same direction, so we start walking together. I’m dong most of the talking (surprise, surprise). We get to the topic of the Homecoming Bash, and of course I put in a plug for you-know-who.

“My group is playing,” I said.

Brendan lights up. Big smile. Nice one too. “Are you a singer?”

“Only in the shower.”

Oops. Brendan is embarrassed again. I didn’t know blood could rush to a face so fast. It’s kind of adorable in way. I almost break out laughing.

“I’m the manager,” I said with a straight face.

“Cool,” he says. “Hard job, huh? Do all the work, get none of the credit.”

Smart too,

I like that.

Not that it matters.

He is, after all, a guy.

Tonight, if I have time, it makes him a copy of the tape I made a rehearsal.