Dear Diary, I'm Completely Lost

The Next Big Writing Name

I finally manage to come up with my essay that weekend. I literally write it, sitting in Hunter’s lap, with his arms wrapped around my waist. Don’t ask me how I managed to focus. Because I have no idea.

Anyway, he kept quiet the entire time, like he knew that I need silence to come up with something. He was encouraging me with neck kisses and soft caresses down my thighs or anywhere he deemed suitable.

Now that I think about it, it’s a miracle I managed to write anything at all, let alone the whole thing. Anyway, I wrote an essay about cyber issues, just like mom advised me to.

I touched on the specific problem of the safety of students. Just about every kid gets to use a computer and the internet, because that’s what our generation was born into. We grew up with this knowledge and we don’t know how to live without it.

So, I presented my thoughts on how we could make the internet a safer environment for kids, teenagers and adults as well. I even included seniors, because they’re the least knowledgeable about cyber dangers.

In the end, I was quite content with the conclusions I came up with. People should be more educated about internet safety. Passwords are always an issues, because everyone just sets up their names, or their kids’ names, that’s not safe. It gives hackers an easier job. You practically open your account to them. You invite them in.

Yeah, I really fell into it. I kind of loved diving into this issues and writing about it. It was really interesting and I did my research on it, before starting to write. I really want to do well at this competition.

When I finish, I scan it through, then let Hunter read it. He takes is time, going through it, word by word. I can see him nodding to himself from time to time, which makes me smile. He’s so adorable. But I’ll never say that out loud. Guys don’t want to be called adorable. At least that’s what I heard from my brother.

He looks at me, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are amazing. Has anyone ever told you that?” he asks, making my smile widen. I shake my head, then shrug.

“Well, okay, you just did. But I don’t think I heard you well. Can you repeat, please?” I tease him, making him chuckle and press an earth-shattering kiss to my lips. Damn. I could let him have me on my desk right now.

“You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. And you’ll blow away the competition,” he murmurs, making me chuckle too. I smack him across the chest playfully, while his hands travel down my hips.

“And you’re a tease,” I whisper, sending him a meaningful gaze. Before I know it, I find myself on the bed, him lying on top of me. I’m terrified that my parents would walk in on us, but they’re probably too busy hanging out downstairs on the couch. It’s one of the rare occasions that dad is free on a Saturday.

Hunter kisses me everywhere, almost making me start tearing clothes of him, but I change my mind pretty quickly, when I heard sounds like someone’s walking on the hallway. Hunter hears it too. He sits on the chair, leaving me on the bed all flustered, and I quickly pretend to curl up.

In the next moment, there’s a faint knock on my open door and I look up, pretending to be extremely tired as I meet my mom’s questioning gaze. “Finished with the essay already?” she wonders in that stern tone she always uses when she wants me to do something.

Okay, maybe she’s the reason I made myself write the essay. She asked me about it during lunch today. Actually, the question was if I handed it in yet and she went ballistic, when I told her that I didn’t exactly write it yet.

“I am, in fact,” I let her know, a smug smile showing up on my face. “That’s why I’m resting,” I then quickly add, before she manages to ask me what I’m doing lying on the bed in the middle of the afternoon.

“And not that I’m a professional or something, but it’s really good,” Hunter speaks up from the chair, spinning around to face my mom and revealing the computer screen behind him. Mom looks at him, looking like she’s about to smile.

“Let me see,” she then says, making Hunter get up and join me on bed, sitting down on the edge like he doesn’t want my mom to get any images inside her head. Yeah, that would be wise. I sit up as well, sending him a wink as he looks at me. He smiles like a kid on Christmas morning.

Mom takes the chair and scrolls up to the beginning, taking her time to go through it. Once she finishes, she looks at me with that same stern gaze, but there’s something behind her eyes that I can’t quite decipher. “You wrote this yourself?” she wants to know.

I nod, making her stare at me for a moment longer. It leaves me thinking that it sucks. I mean, my mom is a professional writer, she surely has an opinion. “What? Is it any good?” I ask, almost feeling the need to start chewing on my fingernails, before her lips curl up ever so slightly.

“It could be improved, but I have to say … You are your mother’s daughter,” she tells me proudly, making me breathe out in relief. She chuckles at the look on my face. “Got you there for a moment, huh?”

I nod, holding my hand over my chest. “Yeah, definitely. Thanks for scaring the s**t out of me, mom,” I tell her, making her grow serious in a nanosecond.

“Language, young lady,” she warns me. Then, she gets up, making me stare at her in wonder.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what to improve?” I wonder, almost feeling offended that she said that and wouldn’t continue what could be better. She smiles at me.

“No, sweetie. I’m your mom, not your mentor. Your teacher will give you excellent points to improve on, I’m sure of it. But I don’t want to do that. I just want to be your biggest supporter, if you’ll let me,” she explains softly, leaving me torn. I’m not sure if I love her for not stepping into professional shoes, or if I secretly wish she’d give me her pro tips.

I look at Hunter, who just raises his hands. “Don’t put me in the middle of this, I have no idea about writing, I’m just a fangirl,” he speaks up, making us all burst into laughter. I then look at my mom, almost wanting to ask her to tell me what I could improve on.

But as I see the pride that she’s so desperately trying to hide, I decide against it. I nod, smiling at her. “Okay, mom. Thanks. This means a lot to me. But would you ever change your mind, if I wanted you to give me tips?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“Maybe when you get tough enough skin to be able to take advice from a professional, who also gave birth to you,” she remarks in a friendly way, smiling to herself as she walks out of my room. I stare after her in wonder, before turning to my boyfriend.

He shrugs at my questioning gaze, probably still not wanting to be put in the middle of this. He never wants to be, really. He always takes the neutral side when I have something with my mom. Okay, at least when we’re both in the same room.

“Before you say anything, now you know you can hand in the essay to Mrs. Ramirez without overthinking it. I mean, your mom just told you how good you are. If that’s not a compliment, than I don’t know what is,” he voices his opinion, making me sink into my thoughts as I nod absent-mindedly.

Yeah, that’s right. If my mom thinks I’m good, then surely I must have some potential. One thing’s for sure. I have to beat Cassie at this contest. Miss Fallen Leaves was just the beginning. It was child’s play, actually. A way to let her see that I can take her crown any waking moment of the day. Now it’s time to show her what happens, when she truly crosses my way.

I walk into Mrs. Ramirez’s office confidently that Monday. I’m really early, because it’s Leslie’s birthday, and I need to decorate her locker. It’s a good thing I know her combination. I have to get those balloons inside somehow.

Hunter has left the previous day, and I could barely let go of him. I didn’t cry. At least not until he turned around and left. I knew it was already difficult enough for him to walk away. If I let him see my tears, he’d never catch that flight.

Anyway, I cleared things up within me. I’ll be seeing him in a month. For Thanksgiving. Until then, we’ll talk every day, just like we used to do until now. We’ll be okay. Gosh, I can’t wait to see him again. Okay, Perrie, focus. Mrs. Ramirez. Making Leslie a surprise. You have work to do.

Mrs. Ramirez looks almost relived to see me. She checks her calendar. “Good morning, Perrie. We’re really chasing the date here, aren’t we? Tell me you got something,” she greets me, sounding almost desperate to get something from me.

I smile, nodding at her. “I do, actually,” I tell her, pulling the printed essay out of my bag. “And you’re welcome to read it, before I apply it to the contest,” I then add, making her eyes perk up with interest.

She takes the essay from my hands carefully, like she’s holding something really valuable. She reads it through inviting me to sit down with a gesture, as she goes through the first few sentences. She does that without looking at me.

I take the seat and wait patiently, checking the digital clock on the cupboard. Okay, I have fifteen minutes before Leslie comes. I need to have everything ready by then. But I can’t exactly start blowing balloons in the teacher’s office. She has a pen in hand, inserting a few commas that I probably forgot to put in.

She soon looks up from the paper, letting out a long breath. Uh-oh. What’s this now? Was Hunter a little too excited? Did my mom lie to me? Then, the teacher shakes her head in a serious way, making my face fall. Crap. I screwed up. It’s complete s**t. She’ll tell me to come up with something better, if I want to enter the contest.

“Perrie,” she finally speaks up, making me raise my eyebrows ever so slightly. “Thank you for presenting me with such a masterpiece. Your ideas, your point of view, your writing style … I’m glad you decide to go with the essay,” she then tells me, making my face light up.

“You really think so?” I hear myself say, too happy to bother hiding the gigantic smile that probably took over half of my face. She nods, handing the papers back to me.

“Really. Did your mom help you with this?” she then asks, seeming a little torn. I shake my head, sighing in response.

“No. She refused to even give me tips after she read it,” I explain, making Mrs. Ramirez stare at me in surprise.

“She had tips for this?” she says more to herself than to me. Then, she leans back on her chair and smiles. “Of course, she did. She’s only one of the most accomplished journalists out there,” she then adds, before turning back to me. “Okay. Fix what I’ve marked on the papers and send me a pdf file of the essay today. We’ll go through the application together tomorrow, if that’s fine with you,” she tells me.

I nod, discussing a few more details with her, before walking out of the office. Great, now that I got this over with, it’s time to get to work. I have only five minutes. The hallways are filling up. You got this, Perrie.

I sit on a bench, trying to blow the balloons as fast as I can. But I also have to tie them together, which takes more time than I want to. My peers are walking past me and I pay them no attention, even if they’re probably making fun of me. Yeah, my cheeks look ridiculous when I’m blowing balloons. I can’t help it, it’s just the way they are.

They’re already stinging badly, when someone suddenly stops in front of me and asks: “Need a hand?”