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The Black Book
[DIARY OF A TEENAGE STUD]
VOL. III
Run, Jonah, Run
JONAH BLACK
Contents
Nov. 28, 7:30 P.M.
I just took my own picture with a Polaroid camera.
(Still Nov. 28, ten minutes later)
Okay, at that exact second the phone rang.
Nov. 29, 12:30 A.M.
Okay, so it was a disaster. I went over there and...
Nov. 29
It’s Saturday morning, almost eleven A.M., but I’m still in my room.
Dec. 10, 6:15 P.M.
Miss von Esse’s class. Today we’re reviewing the “subjunctive mood” in German...
(Still Dec. 11, 5:30 P.M.)
After school today I was walking along the beach, just thinking about the situation...
America Online Instant Message from Northgirl999 12-14, 7:14 P.M.
Dec. 16
Well, my plans to meet up with Sophie are already blown.
America Online Mail 12-16, 9:43 P.M.
Dec. 17, 4:21 P.M.
Well, the big meet with Ely is tomorrow, and I have to say I’m psyched...
(Still Dec. 17, 11:31 P.M.)
Now I’ve lied to Mom. I waited for her to come back from her radio show...
Dec. 18, 11:53 P.M.
The first reason I knew the swim meet was going to be weird was that Wailer...
Dec. 19 10:30 A.M.
So here I am in history class, and we’re stuck in the series of presidents...
(Still Dec. 19, later)
I’m in the cafeteria and guess what I’m eating for lunch again?
(Still Dec. 19 4:40 P.M.)
So Thorne was leaning against his Volkswagen Beetle as I came out...
(Still Dec. 19, even later)
At five p.m. I headed over for my appointment with Dr. LaRue.
Dec. 20, 6:33 P.M.
Saturday. I spent all day delivering pizzas and videos on my bike for Mr. Swede...
Dec. 21, 3:30 P.M.
I was going to do some Xmas shopping today but Honey took her Jeep...
Dec. 22 3:45 P.M.
Today this kind of sad thing happened. School is out for break...
Dec. 25
It’s about three-fifteen on Xmas afternoon.
(Still Dec 25, later)
Just before we ate dinner, I was sitting around the living room...
Dec. 26, 2:30 P.M.
I’m kind of restless today. I guess I’m so psyched for tomorrow...
Dec. 27, 1:15 P.M.
Well, here we are, Thorne at the wheel of his Beetle, me attempting to write...
(Still Dec. 27, 5:30 P.M.)
I am in the Porpoise! I had to give up writing in the car...
(Still Dec. 27, 6:30 P.M.)
Okay, so now it’s
(Still Dec. 27, 6:55 P.M.)
Sorry. The doorbell rang just at that second and it was the delivery guy...
(Still Dec. 27 10:25 P.M.)
All right. I’m back, after kind of an adventure. The phone rang...
(Still Dec. 27, 11:30 P.M.)
Okay, so I just called home to see if there were any messages, and fortunately...
(Still Dec. 27, almost midnight)
Still waiting for Sophie. I just did something kind of stupid.
Dec. 28, 8:35 A.M.
Still no Sophie. I feel like such a loser. I think what I might have to do...
(Still Dec. 28, 8:44 A.M.)
Okay, so I just called her house in Maine, and guess what? There was no answer.
(Still Dec. 28, 11 A.M.)
So I just called Dr. LaRue. I dialed his “after hours” number...
(Still Dec. 28, 4:30 P.M.)
Okay. Back now from a long day in the Magic Kingdom.
(Still Dec. 28, 9 P.M.)
Now I’m down in the bar eating pretzels. I don’t know. I guess I’ve been made...
Dec 29, 6:30 A.M.
Okay, I’m up, and I’m down in the hotel restaurant. I just finished a stack...
(Still Dec. 29, 8:30 A.M.)
I’ve been sitting at the restaurant now for almost two hours writing all of this down.
(Still Dec. 29, 12:30 P.M.)
Now I’m sitting at a table at the Diamond Horseshoe Jamboree...
Dec. 30
Back in Pompano Beach. Okay. I’m back in my room at Mom’s...
(Still Dec. 30, later)
Okay, had to stop and rest the ol’ hand there. More on my afternoon with Sophie...
(Still Dec. 30, 4:56 P.M.)
I probably don’t need to bring this up to date on much more than that.
Dec. 31, noon
Mom is down at the radio station re-editing some of her shows...
(Still Dec. 31, 3:35 P.M.)
I just got back from a bike ride around Pompano. I went over to the beach...
(Still Dec. 31, later)
Just got off the phone with Thorne. The weird thing is, it’s New Year’s Eve...
(Still Dec. 31, 5:15 P.M.)
Except Posie isn’t home.
America Online Instant Message from Northgirl999, 12-31, 7:32 p.m
(Still Dec. 31, 10:35 P.M.)
I’m alone in the house, New Year’s Eve, and feeling pretty down.
Jan. 1, noon
This has to be one of the last entries in this journal.
Jan. 3
Okay, here’s what happened last night while I was lying in bed.
Jan.5
I’m just about to run out of pages in this thing, but I have to write this...
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Nov. 28, 7:30 P.M.
I just took my own picture with a Polaroid camera. The last photograph of me before I lose my virginity. I sat on the bed and held the camera at arm’s length and smiled. The flash turned my eyes all red, so now I have this Last Picture of Jonah as a Virgin, and I look like some kind of werewolf. Tonight, when I get back from Posie’s, maybe I’ll take another photograph and compare the two.
I’m sitting in my room, listening to Mom’s radio show, Pillow Talk, on WOMN-FM. I have to admit it’s become an obsession. It’s like a horror movie where you cover your eyes, but then you spread your fingers and peek because you have to see what happens next.
All these kids are calling Mom up and asking her these crazy questions. I’m a fifteen-year-old girl and whenever I kiss a guy I get the hiccups. Is this normal? Or, I’m a sixteen-year-old boy and I like to read Vogue and Mademoiselle. Is this normal? Or, I’m a seventeen-year-old boy and I don’t want to touch a girl unless I’m listening to Jay-Z. Is this normal? No matter what questions get asked, Mom always answers the same thing: Tell me—are you being nice to yourself?
I almost called up Mom myself. Here’s what I’d say: “Doctor” Black, I’m this seventeen-year-old guy who was held back a year in school for completely unfair reasons and now I’m in the eleventh grade all over again while my friends are all seniors, and I’m just about to sleep with the perfect girl who’s been my friend since I was ten, except that I can’t stop thinking about this kind of mystery girl I know from this boarding school in Pennsylvania I used to go to. Is this normal?
I could even answer her next question: And no, I’m not being nice to myself. I think I’m being nice to everybody else, though. Does that count?
What does “being nice to yourself” mean exactly anyway?
I think I’m going to jump on my bike and head over to Posie’s house pretty soon. I’ve got the flowers I bought from Rite Aid, and the condoms I bought a couple weeks ago. I even hav
(Still Nov. 28, ten minutes later)
/>
Okay, at that exact second the phone rang.
Somehow I knew it was Sophie from the sound of the ring. I can’t explain this except that as I walked to the kitchen to pick up the cordless, I had absolutely no doubt about who it was.
“Hi? Jonah?” I could see her so clearly, I could almost smell her shampoo. It was amazing that she could be calling me in Pompano Beach, Florida, all the way from Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, and have it sound like she was in the same room. In the background, I could hear the sound of the traffic on Lancaster Pike, which is this big road in front of Masthead Academy. I knew she was standing at the pay phone outside Webber Hall, which is the administration building. I wondered why she hadn’t used the phone in the hallway of the girls’ dorm, but maybe she wanted privacy when she talked to me. I liked that.
“Sophie?” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m—okay. I guess,” she said. “Kind of weird, actually.”
“Really? Are you all right?” I asked. She sounded strange.
“Yeah. I’m all right. It’s just weird, you know? I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Sophie. How’s everything at Masthead?”
“Oh, Jonah, you know what it’s like here. It’s lunatic city. Except it’s worse because everybody’s under all this pressure, waiting to find out where we got into college.”
“Where did you apply?” I asked her.
There was this big pause.
“Uh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I said.
“No, it’s okay. I applied to a bunch of schools. Stanford, in California. Tulane, in New Orleans. Carleton, in Minnesota. The University of Colorado. And the University of Central Florida.”
“UCF? You applied to UCF?” I said. It’s not exactly the greatest school in the world. It’s good for partying, though, I guess.
“Yeah, well. It’s good to keep your options open, right?” Sophie said.
“I guess.”
“Where are you applying, Jonah?”
I wanted to come up with some great lie for her, but I couldn’t. “I’m not applying to schools,” I said. “I’m back in eleventh grade. Remember?”
“Oh, right,” Sophie said. I could almost feel myself shrinking in her eyes. “Because of the . . . the thing last spring.”
I loved the way she called it “the thing.” Yeah, because I drove a car through the wall of a motel by accident. Because I was trying to save you, Sophie. Because I was trying to keep you from having to sleep with my stupid ex-roommate Sullivan the Giant. Because I got expelled and had to come back to live at my mom’s house in Pompano Beach. Because I’m a loser!
“Orlando’s not far from where you are, is it, Jonah?” she said.
“Well, it’s a couple of hours away, actually.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Well, anyway. That’s part of why I’m coming down there. To check out the campus. That, plus I’m taking this vacation with my parents.” There was a little pause. “Did you still want to try to get together? When I come down?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’d like that.” Then I thought about Posie, less than a mile away, waiting for me to come over for our Big Night. I didn’t even feel that guilty. What’s wrong with me?
“We’re staying at the Porpoise,” Sophie told me. The schedule is, I’m at Masthead until the nineteenth. Then I’m flying up to Maine to spend Christmas with my family in Kennebunkport. Then on the twenty-sixth we’re all going down to Disney World. Why don’t we try to meet then?”
“Okay. I have to try to figure this out, though. I need a good excuse for why I’d go to Orlando for a couple days,” I said.
“Well, you could tell them you’re meeting a girl at some hotel. How do you think that would go over with your mother?” Sophie joked.
I could still hear my mother’s voice on the radio. “Bup, bup, bup,” she said, interrupting some caller. “It doesn’t matter what you think! What’s important is how you feel!”
“I don’t know how it would go over,” I said. “It’s none of her business, my—you know. Love life.”
There was another long pause. I pictured Sophie standing there outside in the cold. The Masthead senior class was probably doing its annual Christmas tree sale out in the parking lot.
“I’m not going to tell my parents, either,” Sophie said.
“Tell them what?”
“That I’m going to see you.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. I just let those words echo all over my body.
“Hey, Jonah, there’s something else I want to tell you,” Sophie said.
“What?”
“About your roommate? I mean, ex-roommate?” she said.
“Sullivan?”
“I never slept with him, Jonah. I wanted you to know. I haven’t slept with anybody, actually. I’ve been waiting.”
“Me too,” I whispered. But I was about to go over to my friend Posie’s house and sleep with her. I felt like I was going to snap in two. I couldn’t figure out which girl I was being unfaithful to.
“I’m glad,” Sophie said. In the background, I heard a car horn honk. “Uh-oh, gotta go,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll call you again, okay? Why don’t you book a room at the Porpoise from the twenty-seventh to the thirtieth? Then we can just see each other whenever I can get away from my parents. Okay? I’ll talk to you later. ‘Bye!”
And then she hung up.
Now I’m sitting on my bed writing this down in my notebook. I’m wearing my best black shirt and this pair of jeans that I know Posie likes. I’m looking at this photograph of myself with red werewolf eyes. I’m holding a bouquet of flowers.
And all I can think about is going to Disney World to stay at a hotel with Sophie.
Nov. 29, 12:30 A.M.
Okay, so it was a disaster. I went over there and
Actually, you know what? This is too depressing to write right now. I’m going to bed. I’ll give this another shot tomorrow. For now let me just write down the three magic words for tonight: STUPID STUPID STUPID.
Nov. 29
It’s Saturday morning, almost eleven A.M., but I’m still in my room. I can’t make myself face the world today. I just feel like sitting here listening to music and writing. I’m listening to Radiohead, which is perfect for my mood. Seriously morbid.
All right, now for the exciting details of Jonah’s Big Disaster.
Maybe if I write this quickly it won’t be so horrible. Maybe not.
I went over to Posie’s and man did she have the place all set up. She had a fire going in her parents’ fireplace. It’s one of those fake gas fireplaces, but it was nice anyway. She’d made this whole dinner for us—a roasted chicken—and she’d got out her parents’ good china and silverware. As it turned out, her folks had decided to stay overnight in Lauderdale. Plus, her little sister, Caitlin, had gone out with her friends to the Muvico, so we had the whole place to ourselves. Caitlin was going to be back around eleven, but that was all right. Caitlin was cool with me and Posie being together.
Anyway, we started to eat this chicken and Posie had even opened a bottle of white wine. It was sweet and went right to my brain and I was just sitting there in this kind of haze.
Posie was wearing a black lacy top that kind of clung to her, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes on her face. She also had on a short khaki skirt that showed off her legs. Maybe sometime I should write a whole thing about Posie’s legs, because they are like, this natural wonder, like the Grand Canyon or Mount Rushmore. She has this crazy tan from being out on the ocean so much, and she has really strong muscles from surfing, too. But she doesn’t have those giant weight-lifter legs that a lot of girls get when they work out. They just seem strong and smooth and brown and amazing.
Of course I couldn’t see her legs under the tablecloth, but I knew they were there.
Posie asked me if I like chicken.
“I like this one a lot,” I said.
“What’s your
favorite part of the chicken?” she said.
“I’m not sure.”
And then she said, “You know, what I like is the thigh. I love the dark meat on the thigh. It’s so delicate and moist. What do you think, Jonah? Do you like the thigh?”
I laughed. “Yeah, Posie, the thigh is all right.”
Then she said, “But sometimes I like the breast better. The white meat on the breast is kind of soft and delicious, too. I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to choose between the breast and the thigh, isn’t it, Jonah?”
Posie is such a nut. I loved how she was teasing me with that whole chicken thing. It felt so great, just sitting there being seduced by her.
“There are a lot of parts to admire in a chicken, aren’t there?” I said, grinning at her.
“Mmm-hmm,” Posie said. Then she laughed. “Hey, Jonah,” she said. “Why don’t you come over here and admire my parts?”
So I stood up and walked over to her and kissed her brains out.
After a while, Posie took me by the hand and we went into her bedroom and I lay down on her bed, the same bed I’d been sitting on since we were kids, only now it felt like something else, like a launch pad for a rocket over at Cape Canaveral.
“I’m going to be right back,” she said, and went into the bathroom. I took off all my clothes and got under the covers and waited for her. I couldn’t believe it was going to happen. I suddenly remembered about the condoms, so I got up and got my wallet out of my pants pocket and got the Trojan and put it on Posie’s bedside table. Then I got back into bed again. Just in time for Posie to come out of the bathroom wearing absolutely nothing. She went over to her bureau and lit a candle and then turned off all the rest of the lights in the room and lay down next to me and kissed me.
I put my arms around her and I felt like I had super powers. Like I was “The One.” Keanu Reeves in The Matrix.
“I love you, Jonah,” Posie whispered. “Take off your clothes.”
“I love you, too, Sophie,” I said.
I heard it as I said it, but I didn’t realize how horrible it was until a second later when I felt the change in Posie. It was like someone had thrown freezing water on her.
“Sophie?” she said. “You called me Sophie?”