Dear Journal

Sweet Journal

February 5

I went to Dr. John's today. He asked to look at my journal. Aren't you supposed to be for my eyes only?

Anyway, he said I'm not getting deep enough. I'm not writing in you enough.

I disagree. My life is boring, sorry. There isn't much to write.

I had a ham sandwich for lunch. I took a history test. My mom picked me up and asked how my day was. Don sat behind me in Chemistry and added to his creepiness by breathing down my back the whole period.

Oh and my best friend became my former best friend. Ex friend? Yeah, ex friend.

She thinks I'm weird now and that I "don't act like myself" sometimes. Not sure what that means.

Vanessa was always trying to reach the top of the popularity chain. As soon as you started to drop, she'd drop you. But, she'd never done that to me, no matter how many times I slipped on the wet school floor or dropped a bowl of tomato soup on myself. We met in third grade when I was the only one to show up for her birthday party. Even back then, everyone knew she was caught up in her bitchy aspiration of being popular girl #1. And I won't lie, the only reason I went was because it was the first party I'd been invited to, not because I liked her.

Eventually, she grew on me, but deep down I knew she was still the same stuck up person.

As soon as I glanced at her in second period, she flipped her hair and refused to talk to me.

"Did you get that Chem homework finished?" I'd asked, with no response back.

So I tapped on her shoulder, "Vanessa?"

"Ew, don't touch me. You're so weird now. God, you're not even the same person anymore." She snarled.

Okay. How do you react to that? I mean, I haven't done anything to her.

I switched seats with Jeremy, an unimportant baseball player with horrible acne.

And that's how I ended up sitting in front of Don.

Yay.

Not sure what's worse, sitting by him or feeling like I may get punched in the face sitting beside her.

Is that enough to write about Dr. John?

I hope so.