Thursday, Oct. 16

Thursday, Oct. 16

  Dear diary,

  

  You know, the town of Brookwich rarely has huge events worth anybody’s time.  We have gag-worthy bake-sales, carwashes, and charity concerts and more superficial stuff like that. But there’s this once a year event that kids from school hardly ever miss. You miss one, and you’d be branded a loser your whole high school life. The annual “Xmasfest” every December 25.  Only those fifteen years old above are allowed admission, this year would be my second. Last year was the year I’d put my virginity purposely on stake, with whom? Kevin Cartwright.  He was a junior then, and is currently the school’s hottest beast. His parents separated when he was just a few months old, and he was left to be raised by his millionaire of a grandfather. With his soft tresses of golden hair, large, sexy sapphire eyes, it was only understandable that I fell for him. I still do fall for him, even after what he’d done.

  Anyway, this year Lydia and I are joining the designing committee. Or rather, we plan to join them. They won’t be accepting recruits until the end of November, giving me enough time to finish my painting.  The one I intend to showcase during the event itself. Lydia’s no good in arts; she’s more of a sports girl. I do know her reason for wanting to join, two words: Theodore Emerson. From what I’ve gathered, he’d dropped out of high school two years back to help his mother and siblings, his father and a younger brother died during a car crash. Now, at eighteen he works at a coffee shop where we like to hang out during Sundays. That’s all real noble.  I don’t find it one bit touching.