Becca’s diary: no electronic version available

Sunday, February 20

None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for Evan Johnson’s tongue.

When we were making out in my basement, our yearning physiques silhouetted against the soft glow of a Mafia movie, everything would start out really nicely. There’d be a romantically chaste lip lock like the one between Anne and Gilbert at the end of Anne of Avonlea. I’d feel a ripple of electricity run down my spine, bounce off my toes, and ricochet through the roof of my mouth. Things would get all tingly. I wished we could have kissed that way forever.

And then, the tongue.

It slithered in slowly, the way I imagine that snake entered the Garden of Eden and totally messed things up between Adam and Eve. In a way, Evan and I were like Adam and Eve, although we wore more than fig leaves for the practical reason that it was December in Minnesota, so we had to fend off frostbite. I was Evan’s first girlfriend, and he was my first boyfriend. We were each other’s make-out guinea pigs. Our relationship was an example of the blind leading the blind. It was truly beautiful.

Except for the tongue.

Making out with him set off this crazy chain of events. If I’d just stayed at home watching Molly Ringwald movies with Katie like a good little girl, or if Jai had never entrusted me with his biggest secret, I could have spared everyone some major angst.

But that’s not what happened. Katie and I met Jai, one of the best things ever to happen to us in this one-horse town. I dated Evan, who opened his mouth and slipped me the tongue, and I turned around and opened my mouth and had many subsequent slips of the tongue. And after all the drama that went down, I’ve more than learned my lesson. I will never kiss and tell again.

A lot of people think that what happened was all my fault and that I’m this terrible person for what I did, but those people don’t know the whole story. And I’m not blaming Evan, really. He’s just a nice boy who needed some kissing lessons.

All of that seems very far away now. In fact, if I go back to the beginning, I can’t believe what a different person I was. At least, I hope I am different than I was. That’s why I’m starting this diary today, on the morning of my sixteenth birthday. I got up half an hour early, just so I’d have time to write the first entry.

It’s time to turn over a new leaf. I hope the old leaves stay buried under the February snow and disintegrate before the spring thaw comes.

Chapter 1

“So there was this gigantic bag of prunes sitting on the counter, right?” I say. “I don’t know why my mom bought them, since I’ve always associated prunes with constipated old ladies, you know? But there they were.”

It’s December first, and I’m eating lunch with my best and only friend, Katie Eidsvaag.

“So the prunes were on the counter, and then what?” Katie asks.

“Well, I figured if my mom bought them, they couldn’t be that gross because she’s always going on about the gross things that other people eat, like hash browns covered in ranch dressing and Funyons and stuff.”

Katie nods and picks a stray fuzzy out of her waist-length auburn hair and smoothes out her broomstick skirt. Katie’s has big, gorgeous brown eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a long, sloping nose. She’s never worn a drop of make-up, which fits in with her effortless bohemian fashion sense.

“Anyway,” I continue, “I decided to try a prune. And you know what? It was really good—totally sweet and much better than a raisin. Plus, I could really bite into it, as opposed to trying to bite into raisins, which have always reminded me of little rabbit turds—”

“Eating. I’m eating, Becca.”

“Well, you may not like the next part, then, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”

Katie puts her sandwich down and sighs. “What? You ate too many prunes and had to run to the bathroom every half an hour?”

“It was frickin’ terrible! Really gross and a little painful. But I won’t say anything more about it now.”

Katie gives me a look that says I totally don’t believe you.

We eat in silence for a few moments, but I need closure on the trauma of the prune incident. Plus, I want Katie to learn from the error of my ways. “Let’s just say that a prune binge is a mistake a person only makes once—”

“Look, cool new boy!” Katie exclaims, pointing at the lunch line checkout. I’m prepared to get all pissy at Katie for interrupting me, which she knows I absolutely hate, but I’m struck speechless by the sight in front of me.

Cool New Boy (CNB) is a few feet away from us, clutching his tray and looking as lost as a marooned pirate. Even more striking than his vulnerability is his outfit: a black Ramones t-shirt with pink lettering, black pleather pants, and wing tips. CNB has molded his sandy brown hair into a faux hawk.

I notice Rod Knutson, Lance Tucker, and the Schwermer twins, Dustin and Justin, a.k.a. the Rod and Gun Club, staring at him in utter confusion. It usually takes the proximity of a dance liner’s firm little booty to draw them out of their world of monster truck rallies and demolition derbies, but the presence of CNB distracts them.

Lance shouts, “Halloween was in October, Screw Boy!”

“Yeah,” adds Rod. “Those pants scream, ‘I drop the soap on purpose.’”

Poor CNB’s mouth drops open. I know I should stay out of this, but the Rod and Gun Club boys always make me so mad.

“Thanks for that glimpse into your future, Rod,” I say. “Because really, if anyone around here is going to end up in prison, it’s you.”

It’s true. Rod was suspended a couple of months ago for setting off a stink bomb in the boys’ room. He clearly has criminal tendencies.

“Shove it, Farrell,” Rod shoots back. “And while you’re at it, go make out with the Franklin What’s-His-Butt Roosevelt poster in your bedroom.”

“It was Theodore Roosevelt,” I correct Rod, which only makes him and his friends burst out laughing. I can’t believe those guys haven’t let go of last week’s Teddy Roosevelt incident. In American History class. Mr. Huhn asked us what we knew about Roosevelt, and when I saw a picture of Teddy in our textbook all I could say was that I thought he was pretty sexy, despite the mustache. The Rod and Gun Club went crazy concocting these perverted fantasies involving me and the twenty-sixth president. I never should have said anything, but I just couldn’t help it.

CNB is obviously confused by this exchange because, I mean, who wouldn’t be? He’s most likely thinking, “What planet spawned this mutant? And does she really have a thing for Teddy Roosevelt?”

To my utter surprise, CNB smiles at me, so I beckon for him to join us. He rushes toward Katie and me like he’s drawn by a magnetic force, his spine arrow straight and his legs propelling him like a duck.

“Teddy Roosevelt, huh?” says CNB. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, they think I have a crush on him.”

CNB squints. “Do you?”

“No!” I say a little too loudly as CNB sits down. “Whatever. Forget it. And don’t listen to them. They’re just a bunch of tools who like to murder squirrels while they chew Skoal.”

“The Rod and Gun Club. Blech,” declares Katie solemnly.

CNB looks puzzled. “The Rod and Gun Club?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Katie and I call them that because the guy who just made that charming comment to you about the soap is Rod Knutson, and he and the rest of his red-neck friends think they’re these big hunting and fishing studs. They’re mean to everyone except for girls who are willing to climb into their pick-up trucks and touch their crusty—”

“Yeah, I can smell a redneck from miles off,” CNB says quickly, looking vaguely ill. I’m too charmed by his deep voice to be very mad that he just cut me off. “I’m Jai, by the way. Jai spelled with an I instead of a Y at the end.”

“Why do you spell your name with an I?” Katie asks.

“Well, my full name is James Andrew Irving, so my initials spell J-A-I.”

“God, that is so cool,” I declare, not caring how lame I probably sound. “Much cooler than my initials. I’m Becca. Rebecca Olivia Farrell. Rof!”

Katie gives Jai a weak smile that says, “Yes, she’s always like this.” Fortunately, Katie is too nice to say something so direct. She leaves that to me.

“Nice to meet you, Becca.” He turns to Katie. “And you are?”

“Oh, this is Katie Eidsvaag,” I volunteer. “Actually, her real name is Kathleen, and she doesn’t even have a middle name. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, she’s really quiet and shy, so that’s why she’s not talking, but don’t worry, Katie’s totally fun once she gets to know someone. She just takes a while to open up. I’m not sure why, but she has major trust issues.”

“Um, Becca,” Katie says slowly. “If I had trust issues, I certainly wouldn’t be hanging out with you.”

“Ouch,” I say. “But true enough.”

I turn back to Jai. “Obviously, I’m not like Katie at all. In fact, I really have the opposite problem. People are always telling me to shut up but I can’t help it. Katie seems to get a kick out of me, though. So does my boyfriend, Evan Johnson. We’ve been dating for two weeks.”

Jai wets his lips. “A boyfriend, huh? Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. I thought no guy would ever like me. In fact, I was starting to wonder if I’d have to resort to becoming a slut to get any attention from guys. Not that I want attention from guys who like slutty girls.”

“Like the Rod and Gun Club?” Jai volunteers.

“Exactly,” I reply. “And since Evan asked me out, I didn’t have to turn into a slut.”

“Close call,” remarks Jai.

“Um, so because I’ve never had a boyfriend, does that mean that I’m on the road to Slut City?” asks Katie.

“Of course not,” I assure her. “Besides, one of these days, Luke Kleinschmidt is going to come to his senses.”

“Becca!” Katie whimpers, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” I ask. “Tell Jai about your big crush on Luke? He seems trustworthy.”

Jai purses his lips and knits his brow. “Do you spill all of your friends’ secrets?”

“Of course not,” I say quickly. “I don’t have any other friends. So whatever we talk about here stays in the circle. That’s the rule.”

“Or it is now,” remarks Katie. She turns to Jai. “Yeah, I have a crush on the captain of the hockey team. He’s a senior, but we have an art elective together. He only talks to me when he wants to borrow my paint brushes, and he always calls me Kelly.”

“Sounds like the beginning of something beautiful,” Jai chuckles. Katie’s face falls, and I see Jai quickly trying to think of a way to cover up his unintentional dis.

“You’re a doll,” Jai says to Katie. “The boys will come to their senses soon.”

Katie’s eyes widen, as if this is a true revelation. “Really?”

“I’ve told her that a thousand times, Jai,” I say. “She never believes me.” I’m a little jealous that Jai just called her a doll because I doubt anyone would ever say that about me. Unless they were referring to one of those dolls that tells you it just wet itself.

Jai just looks at Katie, who shrugs and finishes her sandwich. Jai digs back into his food.

I decide to change the subject. “I adore your outfit, Jai. You look like a rock star.”

Jai looks up from his lunch and grins. “I guess the faux-hawk worked. And I just got the Ramones t-shirt last week.”

“So cool,” I remark.

Jai leans toward me conspiratorially. “So, Becca, you seem like a girl in the know, and since I’m the new boy in town, what dirty little secrets can you tell me about this place?”

“Pine Prairie?” I squeak. “If this town has any dirty little secrets, I’m certainly not aware of them. Living here is totally boring. I mean, yeah, the theater finally started showing first-run movies, and you can even get espresso here now, thanks to my mom. She owns Prairie Perks, the only coffee shop. But in this tiny town, everyone sticks their cold, sniffling noses in each other’s business. It’s lame, lame, lame.”

Jai nods in amusement. “Sounds familiar. Go on.”

“Go on?” I repeat incredulously.

“Becca meets very few people who actually encourage her to talk more,” Katie explains.

“I see,” says Jai, turning back to me. “So what else?”

“Well, the newspaper here comes out once a week, and people even advertise their Tupperware parties. The crime report includes things like, ‘Gang of nine-year-olds caught riding their bikes after eight p.m.’ I guess that tells you something about how little there is to do. It’s a pretty big problem to tell you the truth. It’s like an After School Special script. Kids wind up drinking and doing it. Here at the high school, someone’s always pregnant. Even my mom had me when she was in high school—the condom totally broke after junior prom.”

Jai blinks.

“Anyway, most people stay here their whole lives. But not me — I’m dying to get out of here. I’m going to college in New York. I’ve already started looking into the application requirements for NYU and Columbia.”

“Becca has big plans,” Katie adds. “She’s always reading blogs by people who live in big cities and claim to have glamorous lives.”

“Right,” I remark. “I mean, I have to be prepared for life outside of Pine Prairie. I have to know what’s going on if I’m going to be glamorous.”

Jai nods. “Makes sense. What’s the point of a life without glamour?”

“Totally!” I exclaim. “Jai, you’re a gem.”

“Oh, stop,” Jai protests, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by my compliment.

“So what’s your story, Jai?” Katie asks.

“Um, well, I moved here from Northfield. You know it? The town with two colleges?” I nod and Katie shakes her head.

“Not your typical small Minnesota town with a bar, a church, and a gas station,” he says. “It’s pretty cool actually. There are lots of coffee shops and thrift stores and stuff.”

“You must miss it,” I say.

Jai contemplates this. “Kind of. It’s too soon to say, really.”

“So what else can you tell us?” I snap my fingers. “Quick! Five amazing facts about James Andrew Irving right now!”

Jai looks a bit startled by my request but he grins. “Okay, I’m an only child, a Sagittarius, I like to draw, I’m learning how to silkscreen my own t-shirts, and I think you two should come over to my house after school to bake cupcakes and watch Hairspray, the greatest movie ever made.”

Katie and I exchange awestruck grins.

“It’s like you dropped out of the sky from Planet Awesome,” I remark. Seriously, I didn’t know they even made boys like Jai.

“Oh, stop already!” Jai says again, rolling his eyes in mock embarrassment.

“So you said Hairspray, right?” asks Katie. “The new one or the old one?”

Jai clutches his chest. “I love that you even know about the old one. I’m impressed.”

“I know about it, too,” I say. “Of course you know about it,” Jai says. “I could tell you two were clued in.”

“So which one do you prefer?” Katie asks.

“Well, the original does have some very fine moments,” Jai answers, “but I’m a sucker for musicals, so the new one is more my speed.”

“If you like musicals, then you have to try out for Grease next week with me,” I say.

Jai’s face brightens. “This school is doing Grease?” He leans back in his chair. “Hmm, a musical. Maybe Pine Prairie won’t be so bad after all.”