The Abby Diaries

The Abby Diaries: Entry Four

March 8 * 11:27PM

Currently Reading: You Are So Undead to Me by Stacey Jay

My theories have been confirmed. Tonight, when I went to Asher’s room to see if he’d help me out with a levitation spell that required two people to perform, I caught him daydreaming at his desk. I could see his math book open in front of him, but his eyes were trained upward. More specifically, on his corkboard. Even more specifically, on the picture of Brooklyn.

I sighed before knocking on his already open door and entering the room.

Asher flinched and turned around to see me plop down on his bed.

“Hey, Ab,” he said.

“Is this a bad time?” I asked, avoiding looking at the corkboard past his head.

He closed his math book unceremoniously and swiveled his chair in my direction. “Nah. My head’s not really on differential equations anyway. What’s up?”

“Maybe I should be asking you that,” I said, flipping onto my stomach and resting my chin on my hands. “What’s got you all wound up?”

I said it, even though I already knew the answer. I’d rather Asher talked to me about Brooklyn because he wanted to, not because I was good at paying attention.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a pained smile.

I shrugged.

He looked back at the picture of Brooklyn before leaning towards me. “What do you know about Brooklyn?” he asked me point-blank. I was surprised by his brazenness and didn’t respond right away. He continued. “And don’t tell me you don’t know anything, because I know you, Ab. If there’s anything to know, you have it up in that big brain of yours.”

And he was right. In the last day, I’d managed to find out a little more than I’d known before. Hanging around the school bathrooms and outside the counselor’s office could offer up plenty of information on a person—even on an unknown like Brooklyn.

“Maybe. What do you want to know?” I asked, throwing the ball back into his court.

“Who was she before?” he asked.

“From what I can tell she was a loner like us. She kept to herself pretty much all the time.”

“Who does she hang out with?” he asked.

“I’m not sure she actually has any friends,” I said slowly. “The only person I’ve ever seen her talking with around school is Ms. Zia.”

“The guidance counselor?” Asher said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I said. “So, either she’s constantly in trouble or she is trouble. Either way, it can’t be good.”

“Or maybe she gets along better with adults,” Asher pondered. “I just don’t see her being a problem kid.”

The truth was, I didn’t either, but the idea that she would actually be friends with a teacher seemed far-fetched, too.

“What else?” he asked, turning his attention back to me.

I took a breath. “Well, if you’ve seen her in the last few days, you know she’s not the same girl she was in that picture.” I nodded toward the photo behind him, acknowledging for the first time that I knew it was there. If Asher was embarrassed, though, he didn’t show it.

“Uh, yeah. I sort of ran into her yesterday. Literally. I almost didn’t recognize her…”

“Not that you’re complaining, I’m sure,” I said with a smirk. My brother isn’t a vain person, and I knew that he’d been interested in Brooklyn back when she was just a shy brunette who didn’t stand out in the crowd. But he was a guy, so there was no way he could ignore the upgraded assets of his crush.