Journals

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November 27th, 1958, 9:00 pm

We've been stuck here in the Double Nickel for three hours now and I, along with Buddy and Juliet, definitely want to go back to Juliet's place and get some sleep. I can't tell with Russ, though.

"Violet, Buddy, did you guys already get a hotel?" my dad asks, picking up his whiskey. I'll never know how he's able to drink straight whiskey.

I shake my head. "Uh, no, Juliet wants us to stay with her."

Mom shoots a subtle glare at Juliet and then goes back to smiling. I doubt anyone noticed besides Juliet and I. "Why don't you stay with us?"

Buddy looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "Up to you, Vi."

"No, you." I say, lightly kicking him under the table. I hate being forced to make decisions.

"You could stay in your old room! How nostalgic! We haven't moved anything in there, it's just how you left it." My mom adds in.

"Queen sized bed, rather than that twin at Juliet's." Dad smiles.

"It's a twin sized bed?" I ask Juliet.

She nods.

"I love you Juliet, but I can't even sleep in a twin sized bed by myself, let alone with another person." I look down at my lap.

"That's okay, Vi. I get it. We're going out tomorrow though. I miss having you around." She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. "You're the only one who really gets what it's like to be me."

10:00pm, the Winter household

Buddy and I got a ride back to Juliet's, then drove over to my parent's house. It still smells the same and looks the same, after three years of being gone. Three years doesn't seem long, but it feels like an eternity.

We wander into my old room. Same old lavender walls and same vanity and dresser and closet. Same nightstand and same rug. Same pictures hanging on the walls and the same clock. The same people, standing where they always used to.

We set our stuff down and change into pajamas. Buddy sat in the same exact place on my bed that he always did, and I sat next to him, where I always did.

"They're right," Buddy comments, "this is nostalgic."

I nod and stand up, going to sit at my vanity. I open the top drawer and see all the makeup I left behind. A few eyeshadows, a mascara, old brushes, old eyeliner. They're probably all expired now. I close the drawer anyway. In the left hand drawer, I see a book. Oh my God, it's my old journal. I pick it up, my eyes widening. It has a light blue cover and gold lettering that reads "Journal" in fancy writing. I set it on the bed and continue rummaging through drawers. All I find is some old candy, some coins, pens, and a couple of condoms (slightly embarrassing). When I turn around, I see Buddy holding the journal, flipping through the pages.

He looks at me and quickly closes it. "Uh, I'm sorry. I was curious."

I smile and sit back next to him. "Well, find anything noteworthy?"

"It's written in French, so no. The only words I recognized were names." He says, handing me the book.

I open it to the first page. It's dated September 1st, 1952. The day I started high school here. "I don't mind if you read it, Buddy. You already know all of this stuff. I only wrote in French so my parents couldn't read it."

"Well, d'ya love me enough to translate?"

I nod, standing up dramatically and clearing my voice and looking at the page.

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