The Secret Diary of Ashley Juergens (14 page)

7:53 A.M.

I headed straight for the bus stop today. I got up early, got dressed, skipped breakfast, and took my favorite seat on the bench. Thomas was already there waiting. He was surprised I got there so early, but I wasn’t in the mood for another morning meltdown with the family. He wondered why my parents weren’t more protective of their daughter taking the bus alone and I said it was simple: they didn’t even know I left the house. He didn’t buy it, which is understandable. If he had a fifteen-year-old pregnant sister he would know what it’s like.

He took out his phone and said he was going to call my bluff. I told him to go ahead. He dialed my number and asked for me when Mom picked up. I heard Mom yell for me, then tell Thomas she’d give me the message. I was kind of hoping someone would notice I, the heart of the Juergens family, was gone and be ever so slightly concerned. But no.

Sometimes I hate being right.

Thomas asked if my invisibility was my fault or my family’s. It’s not my fault they don’t notice I’m gone. They should be aware something’s up because I
LIVE IN THE HOUSE
.

I do like the benefits invisibility gives me, though, like leaving when I want to and having the freedom to take the bus. It’s nice. And . . . I do make the extra effort to be stealthy about it. But not being missed means that even when I’m there I’m not really noticed. Why doesn’t my family notice I’m not there? Everyone knows I try to be vocal about things. Don’t they miss that? Dad, are you around? He lives in the garage and I bet Mom and Amy would miss him if he was gone. This baby is slowly erasing my existence . . . just like the
Twilight Zone
episode where the guy wakes up and his whole family doesn’t know who he is.

I avoided Thomas’s question because there’re two answers, and when there’re two answers that usually means I’m partly to blame and no one likes to admit they’re wrong, especially me.

I told Thomas my invisibility allowed me to get a job as a cocktail waitress and my age allowed me to get fired. Thomas asked how old I was and I realized even though we talk a lot on the phone, it’s mostly been about Amy. He doesn’t know anything personal about me. I’m invisible even over the phone. I told him I was seventeen. Hey, I’ve got a pretty good track record for lying about my age and getting away with it. He didn’t believe me. I asked why I never see him at school and he said because he doesn’t go there. He knew I went there because he saw me get off the bus in front of my school.

And then he stared at me like Henry, except it wasn’t a “you might be the most beautiful girl in the world” stare. It was more of a “I like you, but I’m on to you” stare. And he didn’t look away. He doesn’t seem to be intimidated by me.

He admitted he’s not in middle school. He’s homeschooled, but his parents aren’t very good teachers. Well, obviously, if they don’t notice you’re not in class at this very moment. He said he doesn’t get along well with others. He’s probably telling the truth, because only someone who doesn’t get along with others would get along with me. He must have noticed my behavior on the bus. If someone creepy sits next to me or acts inappropriately, I don’t mind telling them what I think in a very
LOUD VOICE
. People hate that. Isn’t it weird that people who act inappropriately are the ones who hate being stared at the most? Then don’t be weird! Like invading personal seat space and thinking I won’t notice or say anything. Now nobody sits next to me on the bus . . . well, nobody except Thomas.

He asked if he could come over tonight. He said he’s fifteen so my parents shouldn’t freak out too much. I took his number because I wasn’t sure I wanted him to come over. With my family being the way it is, he might be the one freaking out. On second thought, I might as well bring him home. He could up my visibility factor.

I should have taken the bus home from school, too. My invisibility cloak stopped working when Dad picked me up and started interrogating me, trying to find out where Mom and Amy are working. So I’m on anyone’s radar only when they need information? I didn’t even know they had jobs. You miss one breakfast and you’re completely out of the loop.

I called Amy to try to find out but she didn’t want to talk about it and hung up on me.

Dad tried to think up places where Mom could possibly be working. He came up with: (1.) librarian in charge of the women’s studies book section, (2.) salesperson at one of his competing furniture stores, and (3.) assistant to somebody lame. I came up with: (1.) clerk at adoption agency, (2.) band camp counselor, and (3.) started her own business called Mothers Against Their Teenage Daughters Having Sex.

For Amy, Dad guessed: (1.) twenty-four-hour babysitting service, (2.) working for Leo with something involving meat, and (3.) waitressing at that coffee shop she applied at before. For Amy, I said: (1.) professional whiner, (2.) certified procrastinator, and (3.) getting her
BA
in lazy.

I can’t imagine Mom looking for a job with everything that’s going on. But I know she’s been on Amy to work, so it’s great they found something. Especially since we have no money.

Dad laughed and told me we do have money to support the baby without Mom and Amy having to work. He doesn’t want me telling either of them. Maybe he wants Amy to accept responsibility for her actions and Mom . . . Well, I think he’s just having fun with Mom.

Since he was in such a good mood, I asked if I could have a friend over. He asked if this was an imaginary friend or the one with the dead dog. I said it was the one with the dead dog.

I’m the imaginary one around here.

6:01 P.M.

When Thomas came over, he seemed fascinated by Dad’s garage-house-place thing. I wish my dad would close the garage door once in a while. He may not mind how he looks in his boxer shorts, but I know the neighbors do. With no soundproof walls, Amy being the talk of the town, and him sleeping in his store window before moving back here, I guess Dad doesn’t care about privacy that much anymore. This garage setup must feel like a gated community to him. Still, I have a visitor! Door down! I’d rather not answer any embarrassing questions if I don’t have to. And Thomas totally saw the urinal. Great.

Thomas brought wine for my parents and when we sat on the couch he told me he hated small talk. It was kind of feeling like a date. I hope he knows I have no plans to get pregnant like Amy. I changed the subject to conspiracy theories, since I think life is one big conspiracy theory—manufactured by
INSERT YOUR JESUS HERE
. That was a joke I was going to tell Reverend Stone, but I changed my mind when he went back on his promise to stop my parents’ divorce. He doesn’t deserve to laugh.

Ben came to the door to drop off some ice cream for Amy to enjoy after work. Poor guy, Dad zeroed in on him right away. I knew he wasn’t going to let Ben leave until he found out where Mom and Amy were working. It didn’t take Ben long to let it slip out—the Hot Dog Hut. Wow, Amy’s working at a meat place that isn’t Boykewich’s Butcher Shop? That’s gotta hurt a little. Dad couldn’t get to his camera fast enough. Before Thomas came over Dad joked he was going to get a picture of my first “friend” (little does he know I already have several), but it didn’t take long for Dad to forget about us thirty seconds later. It’s probably a good thing. Ben said Amy didn’t want anyone to come down to where she worked, so she can’t get mad at me for this one. Oh well, Dad will show me the pictures when he gets back.

The phone rang an hour later. Dad realized he had left me behind.
AN HOUR LATER
. This invisibility thing isn’t getting better, it’s getting worse. And hot dogs aren’t going to make up for it. If he took decent pictures, that might help a little. We’ll see. . . .

Thomas and I settled into a routine pretty quickly. The routine of a boring, old, married couple. I made him food and then we had a conversation that consisted of boring topics, almost as if we’d already run out of things to say. Just what I’ve always dreamed about. I don’t think things are supposed to get that boring that quickly. And when it does, in my limited experience, it falls apart just as fast. He does spend his days getting homeschooled by his parents, so maybe this is normal for him. He didn’t judge my dad’s urinal, so maybe I should give him a second chance. Still, I liked it better when we hung out at the bus stop with the prospect of going somewhere. Now that we’re at a destination, the excitement is gone. It might be a good idea to invite myself over to his house and check out his parents. I asked him how old he was. He finally admitted he’s thirteen.

Maybe I should try to find an older guy, someone who’s seen the world. Or at least the world outside the bus route. But I did learn something about myself. After hearing Thomas talk about his dead dog so much, I realized I wanted a dog.

8:30 P.M.

It was opposite day today. My dad was in a great mood and Amy, for once, didn’t want to be late for school. I almost started acting nice but thought it would be more fun to watch than actually participate. Then I found out why Dad was in such a good mood and mine went way downhill.

Dad has the picture he took of Mom at her new job holding a hot dog. He blew it up to poster size and hung it in the garage. He’s trying to enjoy it as much as he can because Mom’s not going to be working there very long. She met someone. An architect named David. She’s interviewing for a job at his firm today and going on a date with him, which means fun time in the garage with Dad is over. Which is a good thing for my ears, but a bad thing for Dad. Seeing Mom work at the “weenie stand” yesterday softened the blow, but it’s going to sink in soon that this new architect boyfriend of Mom’s really means the end of their marriage. Mom moved from a hut to a high-rise pretty quickly. And Dad’s still in the garage.

And Amy, well, she’s started acting all motherly by telling me to eat right. She still hasn’t decided whether she’s going to give the baby up for adoption, but this maternal act tells me she’s leaning toward keeping him. Dad and I decided to get Amy talking about the baby as much as possible, so she’ll feel a tighter bond and decide to keep him. That’s the plan anyway. You know how perfectly a Juergens’ plan always goes!

I put the plan into action late last night. I collected every picture I could find of Amy holding a baby. Surprisingly, there were a lot. Amy holding babies at baby showers, family reunions, birthday parties. I also found a bunch of her holding me. Then I put them into an album and left it in her room. I snuck back in this morning and found it shoved into the back of her closet. That means she looked through it at least once.

I continued operation Mother/Son Bonding by talking about the baby the whole way to school. I wonder if he’ll look more like you or Ricky? Maybe he won’t look like either of you; maybe he’ll look like Mom and Dad. He might even look a little like me (if he’s lucky). Do you think he’ll be good at sports or lean more toward music, like you, Amy? If he does, the tuba may be the more manly way to go, and it’ll make him easier to see on the field. I wonder what foods he’ll like or if he’ll have any crazy allergies. Maybe he’ll invent something that’ll save the world, which would be good because we don’t have any scientists in the family (if you trust science), or maybe he’ll win the Nobel Peace Prize or be knighted or elected president.

I’ve never seen her so happy to see me off to school. I know I’m making things harder by talking about the baby, but let’s face it, it is a hard decision. And it’s one Amy has to make. And in order to make it she has to really think it all through.

Since I found out my only friend at school, Thomas, doesn’t actually go to my school, life on the playground hasn’t changed much. This is fine with me. I’m going to be surrounded by my sister’s friends soon enough when I’m a freshman. I might as well enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.

I did end up inviting myself over to Thomas’s house the other day after school. Not that it needs to be mentioned, but this was a huge step for me. My curiosity got the better of me, and I had to see his parents for myself.

They didn’t disappoint. His mom, Carolynn, and dad, Jim, both work out of offices at their house. Jim’s a lawyer who likes to scream on the phone a lot (even when he’s not arguing) and Carolynn runs a housewife website that promotes her favorite recipes and products. She’s always invited to promotional events by food companies and put up in fancy hotels, so she’s not really home that much to homeschool Thomas. I didn’t bring up the obvious fact that being away from home doesn’t make you a very good housewife.

Thomas told me that’s why he misses his dog so much. A pet is a good companion and provides distraction from your parents. His dog, Sammie, was a mutt and loved being outside, so Thomas walked him a lot. Going on walks by himself just isn’t the same. I said he should get another dog and told him something I heard Mimsy tell a friend of hers once: “You can mark the different parts of your life with the different dogs you have had.” She might have been referring to her past boyfriends, but since her friend had just lost her dog at the time, I’m pretty sure she meant actual dogs. Since Thomas still had Sammie’s bed and toys lying around I knew he wasn’t ready yet, but he said he’d think about it.

This made me think again how much I want a dog. Instead of remembering the days when Amy got pregnant and my parents weren’t getting along, I would have fond memories of Chester, the golden retriever, or Nugget, the little teacup poodle.

When I got home, Amy wasn’t there. I must have gone too far with all the baby talk. I called Dad to make sure he didn’t forget to pick her up. He forgot. If she was in a good mood this morning, she’s not now. And I certainly didn’t help things. Dad asked if I knew where she was, but I didn’t. Dad said he got sidetracked with his home loan and then hung up on me.

Home loan? Where is he moving to? Does Mom know? Does Amy? Where is Amy anyway? Dad lives here now, so he has to face me eventually.

Since I had the house to myself, I went looking through Amy’s room again.

I want to make clear that I don’t make it a habit of going through Amy’s room. I started doing it only because of the pregnancy and I wanted to make sure she was telling me everything. And I want to see if there are any clues about which way she might be leaning on this adoption thing. Maybe I’m panicking over nothing.

I found her diary under the same pillow, but all that was in there were some more of those awful poems. I thought maybe she had another supersecret diary that had all the really good stuff in it, but all I found was a video in her jewelry box. I thought it was a taped high school band performance but it wasn’t.

It was a video of Amy talking to her son and introducing Mom as his grandmother. I showed it to Dad when he came home—

Because I assumed he shot the footage and I wanted to know why I had been left out, but he didn’t know anything about the tape. We figured it must have been Ben holding the camera. It was in the waiting room after Amy’s doctor’s appointment. It must have been shot right after Amy found out she was having a boy. Why weren’t we asked to be in the video? Dad’s her dad, and me . . . well, where do I begin? Let’s start with all the secrets I’ve kept for Amy, starting with the pregnancy. How about all the support I’ve shown her and the temper tantrums I’ve lived through? I’m the aunt, don’t I get an introduction? Since when did she feel the need to start leaving us out of stuff?

She did say in the video that “my dad loves you, my sister loves you. . . .” Thanks for the honorable mention but I would have liked to have told the baby I loved him on camera
MYSELF
.

To add more salt to the wound, the tape was made the day I started my waitressing job to help pay for the nephew Amy thinks doesn’t need to see my face.

Dad and I felt shut out because the tape was obviously made for the adoption process, so my nephew will know where he came from. Have Mom and Amy really decided on adoption? I thought Amy was still thinking about things but this tape makes it seem like it’s already a done deal. Is that why Dad and I weren’t asked to be in it? Because we don’t agree Amy’s baby should be put up for adoption?

I thought feeling invisible was bad, but Amy just made me feel like I don’t even exist.

I was really, really angry. Here I was watching Amy tell her son she’s going to do anything she can to make sure he’ll have everything he needs in life, and she’s planning on taking away his family.

The baby’s not going to see his mother in this video. He’s going to see a teenager who went to prom and hung out with her friends and saw her boyfriend, while he was shipped off to another family because she didn’t want to disrupt her dumb teenage life.

I imitated Amy’s performance but Dad didn’t join in and laugh like I thought he would. He said Amy’s really struggling with things and it’s not as if any of this is easy. Then Amy herself confirmed what Dad said—she was standing behind us the whole time. I was hurt by the tape and wanted to hurt her back so I’d feel better. She ran off, and of course I didn’t feel any better. I felt worse.

Dad told me to talk to her. This house is one of the few places Amy can come and feel like no one’s judging her and I’ve tainted that.

Dad and I went up to Amy’s room. She felt ganged up on. Doesn’t she know how Dad and I operate by now? There’s no one we haven’t mocked. No one’s safe, especially not family. But she was hurt. I guess it’s easier to go for the jugular when no one’s in the room and you never see the damage.

I told Amy I know she cares about the baby. But that caring shouldn’t stop after he’s born. Just because you don’t think you’re capable of caring for a baby at fifteen doesn’t mean you can’t do it. I don’t think she’s even tried to think of herself as a real mother at fifteen. And why shouldn’t she? There are so many people around who are willing to help and who think she can do it—her friends and us, her family. Keeping her son is the best way to show him she cares. And she can do it, I know she can. Just because some people think having a baby at fifteen is bad doesn’t mean it has to be. And it doesn’t mean you have to give up the things you love. You just have to find another way to do them. There’s always another way. And that doesn’t make them bad or worse than other ways. Things are bad right now, sure, but they don’t have to be. Things are the way they are—it’s how you handle them that determines the outcome. And I know Amy can handle this. I wouldn’t be fighting so hard for her to keep the baby if I didn’t.

Amy’s been so busy telling herself the best thing would be to give the baby up for adoption that she’s forgotten her other options. Dad told her she can keep the baby if she wants. I think Amy needed to hear that from him. And as soon as she realized maybe she could keep her son, everything opened up. Her friends offered to babysit, Grace found Amy a daycare job she can work at after school that will also take care of her baby during the day and provide insurance for them. . . . They made her see she’s not alone.

Amy waited for Mom on the couch. Mom told her she could keep the baby if she wanted, but it’s not going to be easy. Amy said she wants to keep the baby and knows she will be a great mom because she has such a great mom.

You’ve probably guessed by now Dad and I were eavesdropping. I told him Amy didn’t mention us at all, we were left out again. But you know what? It didn’t matter. All that matters is Amy is keeping the baby.

!!!!!