Chapters (95)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Video #1
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Video #2
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Video #3
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- The Final Video
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
It’s the middle of an entry. The page after the one torn out doesn’t follow from the page before. Which means it was probably taken out for a reason.
But was it taken out by Chloe?
There’s then a gap of about a week when nothing is written. The pages aren’t torn out—Chloe just wasn’t writing.
Then the entries resume, but they’re shorter. All of them.
I don’t think I enjoy writing anymore.
I’m tired of thinking about all of this.
And then she wrote:
I need to tell Hunter what’s happening. But not sure how he will respond.
Not sure at all.
Sixty
Respond to what?
The entries aren’t coming every day. Sometimes she skips a day or two or three.
But a feeling of doom has settled inside my gut like a rock. Heavy. Dense.
Uncomfortable.
And then:
I’m just not sure who I can tell. A counselor. Should I tell my mom and dad?
Would they even understand? Would anyone?
“Fuck,” I say out loud. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Haley told us about the broken condom. The pregnancy hotline.
“Fuck.”
It has to be true:
Chloe was pregnant.
Sixty-One
The rock in my gut feels like it’s growing. Like it’s going to push its way out of my throat.
I stand, hands on knees. Breathing.
The first wave of nausea passes. Slowly, but it passes.
Everything is shaking when I sit on the bed again and flip ahead like a madman. Some of the entries are totally mundane, as though her crisis was the furthest thing from her mind.
Went to lunch with Mom. Such a great time. It felt more like we were friends than mother and daughter.
This physics lab is wiping me out.
Found a dress today!
But then:
I can’t sleep thinking about it.
I feel sick.
I need to talk to someone.
The Tuesday before homecoming, Chloe wrote:
I’m going to tell Hunter after HoCo. I can’t wait. He has to know. And I don’t care what the consequences are—I can’t keep this from him. I know he’s going to be hurt. Confused. Maybe very angry. I hate this.
The next day:
I can’t believe Basher came over. And I can’t believe I wanted to talk to him.
Basher?
Did she really want to talk to Basher? Why?
When I turn the page, there’s nothing there.
The next two pages are ripped out.
And the rest of the journal is blank.
Sixty-Two
Basher?
There’s nothing else in the book.
An idea grows in my mind like a poisonous weed. Basher was always hanging around Chloe’s house. Basher never got over Chloe. Basher is tight with Scott.