Her Suicide Note

Chapter Eleven

Adrian
I've finished up my homework when a knock sounds at my door and Mom walks in. Bianca closes the red notebook in her hand and sets it beside her.
"So, are you going to be staying with us for dinner, Bianca?" Mom asks.
Bianca looks out my window, considering the offer. "No," she finally says to my disappointment. "I should get home."
"Alright," Mom replies. "But if you ever want to come over again, feel free."
"Thank you, Ms. Houston," Bianca calls out after her as Mom closes the door.
"Want me to walk you home?" I question.
Bianca narrows her eyes at me playfully. "I'm a big girl, Adrian," she states firmly. "I can walk by myself."
"Are you sure?" I insist. I don't want her to leave.
"Positive. I'm going to the bathroom first, though. Be right back."
As she closes my bedroom door, I stare hard at her backpack. If I hide it, that would give me more time with her, right? But I realize how stupid that is. She'll be too focused on finding it than talking to me.
I look up at the poster over my bed and glare. I think you're the reason why she's not staying for dinner, I say mentally before pushing myself up from my chair.
I've had the poster forever, three years to be exact. Nathan had found it in a magazine he bought. He would've kept it for himself if he had more space on his walls. At first I didn't care it was there, I thought it actually looked good in my room, but I can still remember how hard I cringed when Bianca spotted it.
Has that ruined my chance with her? I ask myself, but quickly answer no. She wouldn't be overdramatic about a poster, but it may serve as a minor setback in our relationship...or whatever we have going on here.
"Yeah, I'm just at a friend's house," I hear Bianca say as she walks back into the room, a phone pressed to her ear. "I'm just leaving now. I'll be there in no time, bye."
As she hangs up and looks at me, I give her an understanding look. "Dad?"
"Mom, actually," she corrects as she slings her backpack onto her shoulders. "I'll see you tomorrow, Adrian." Then she rushes out of the room.
When I get downstairs, I watch as Bianca disappears down the sidewalk. Maybe I should've told her I was walking her home instead of asked.
I make my way into the kitchen to see Mom's version of dinner. Two pizza boxes from Pizza Hut.
"I got your favorite," Mom singsongs, pushing the box on top my way. As I open the box and stare lovingly at the Meat Lovers pie, I hear her sigh and clear her throat. "I want to change, Adrian."
I glance up, startled at her statement. "What are you talking about?" I ask, grabbing a plate from one of the cabinets. "Change what?"
"Me!" Mom says as if it's obvious. "I haven't been a really good mom to you, but I want to change that. I want to be normal."
"No more Amanda the Perfect?" I question in a teasing tone, not quite believing what I'm hearing. I bet on my truck that she'll be back to being the same old mom by tomorrow.
"No more Amanda the Perfect," she states firmly, the conviction in her voice layered on thick.
"Alright," I mumble, still not convinced. "I'm holding you to it."
When I make it back up to my room and sit on the foot of my bed, my sock-clad foot slides over a slick surface. I look down. I'm stepping on Bianca's notebook.
I suck in a sharp breath, half expecting to look out the window and see Bianca tearing down the sidewalk back here. Picking it up, I stare at the title-B's Drawing Journal-as if it'll change before my eyes.
Open it, my conscience probes me. Come on, do it.
"I can't," I say, setting it beside me. "It'll be invading her privacy."
She'll never know unless you give yourself away.
"But I'll know," I protest. "She'd never do that to me, so why do I have to do it to her."
You're always going to be a little punk.
"Fine!" I explode, snatching the notebook back up. "You want to see inside, fine, but I bet you anything that there's nothing in here but doodles."
It feels like my breath is knocked out of me when I open to the very first page. "It's....me," I whisper as I examine the drawing version of myself. It's of my side. I'm in a desk, hunched over something with a pencil in my hand. There's a huge heart on the top right hand corner that says: Adrian in Spanish III class (September 4, 2015)
This was the second day of school. When she had Lisa and I had Dylan. Before Lisa fell in love and destroyed herself. Before that drunk driver swerved into Dylan's lane coming from the opposite way.
I thumb through the first few pages, each one alternating from a drawing to a diary entry. A loose sheet of paper peeks out at me and I slip it from its place in the book. It's a portrait of me, my features startling accurate in the artwork. It's like I'm looking into the mirror. Even though I'm in black and white, my eyes are shining and the right side of my mouth is tilted up in a sly smile. The heart on the right hand corner says November 1, 2015
Turning it over, I see a diary entry dating back to October 31st
Dear Diary,
Happy Halloween though there's nothing happy about it. Lisa had invited me to walk around Clover Grove, a neighborhood with residence that give out full-sized candy bars, even to teenagers like us. Nathan and Adrian were supposed to come with us.
Lisa wanted to head over to Nathan's place a little early. There was something in my stomach, something I couldn't identify, that was telling us to wait until we're actually supposed to be there, but I didn't bring this to Lisa's attention, knowing we were leaving early one way or another.
Nathan lives in Blue Ridge Road, another suburban neighborhood but the houses over there are less family-friendly and more mansion-like.
When we got there, Lisa didn't bother knocking but, instead, pulled out a key that she refuses to tell me where she got and popped the door open. There, on the fluffy area rug in the living room, was Nathan basically wrestling with a girl, their make-out was that rough.
They instantly broke apart at the sound of us. The girl looked horrified but Nathan just stared at us, asking the stupidest question in the world, "Why are you here?"
I had started to explain it to him, to remind him of the plans, but Lisa put a hand on my arm, silencing me. To my surprise she was extremely calm. I had expected her to leap over the love seat that separated us from them, launching herself at the girl. Instead she said in a formal tone, "I'm not sure, Nathan, but we were just leaving."
Then Lisa haul-assed me out of the house, slamming the door behind us.
It's eleven thirty and Lisa is sleeping next to me in the living room. I write this by flashlight because Lisa has taken an interest to the dark since we left Nathan's place. I can practically hear Lisa's silent tears roll down her cheeks and plop down onto the carpet.
I have a bad feeling in my stomach, like this is the beginning of the end. I feel like I'm losing my best friend as she dozes not even a foot away.
I remember that day. I had headed over Nathan's place on the time I was supposed to be there, asking where Lisa and her friend, Caribbean, was. He had said that the plan was off and asked if I wanted to watch some movies with him. As I plopped down on the area rug, I got a strong whiff of fruity perfume, but I didn't say anything.
There's a empty line separating that entry from the one on the bottom dated to the next day.
Dear Diary,
I've been in love with Adrian LaMont for awhile now. Ever since the first day of school, to be exact. He's just so....perfect, you know? I love his eyes the most. How out of this world green they are and my favorite part is when they light up as he talks about something he really loves. I would die happy if I could be his girlfriend for just a day, but I know it'll never happen, not after what went down last night.
Adrian's a junior like Nathan, and also like Nathan, he's a Lady's Man, bound to have heartbreaking tricks up his sleeve. I don't want to get my heart broken like Lisa and all those other girls that have fallen for Nathan and his buddies, but it's hard. But, I know-or want to believe-that Adrian isn't like the others. That he can have a kind and sincere side. Am I wrong for still liking him when Lisa's in distress from his best friend?
"No!" I shout the answer out loud as if the Bianca in this diary can hear me. I fall onto my back on the bed, kissing the sheet of paper.
She loves me.
She fucking loves me.

"Adrian, oh my God, I left my notebook at your place yesterday," Bianca says panicky as I walk up to her at her locker.
"Say no more," I reply, whipping the book out from behind my back, the loose sheet of paper back in its place. I try not to grin stupidly as I hand it back.
"Thank God," Bianca groans in relief as she takes her notebook back. "This is my first time leaving it someplace and I almost had a heart attack later on when I finally realized it wasn't there. Thanks."
"No problem," I say nonchalantly. Then I can't help it, I scoop her up and crush her to my chest.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bianca says. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," I answer.
I still hold her to me, her feet dangling a good half a foot off the ground. I finally find the will to put her down and hold her at arm's length. "You look beautiful," I tell her. She raises a questioning eyebrow at me before looking down at herself. She's sporting baggy sweatpants, a plain white long sleeve with her hair in a messy bun. She's wearing these huge, silver wire-rimmed glasses that magnify her blue eyes in a nice way. "Are those prescription?"
"Yes." She draws the word out, giving me a once over. "Are you okay?"
"Better than okay," I state happily, risking kissing her cheek. Her cheeks start to flame up, but she doesn't crush my windpipe or give me a swift kick between the legs.
"You've been drinking, haven't you?" she asks suspiciously. "The alcohol hasn't worn off yet, has it?"
I laugh wholeheartedly, patting her head affectionately. "Come on, let's go to math."