Jessie's Journal (9/9/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

Rachel and I have been binge-watching episodes of The Office most afternoons after school.  We can usually get through three or so before family arrives home from work and ends the fun. 

Today, Rachel brought a sack filled with junk food to the festivities.

“How many episodes are we planning to watch?”  I asked when I spied all the cookies, donuts, and chips.   

“It’s not for us, dummy.  It’s for your sister.  I figured we’d plant this someplace where she’ll find it.”

Rachel smiled slyly.  I’m sure she thought her plan was clever.  I hadn’t told her that hiding my Easter candy in eyes reach back in April is what had gotten the whole fat ball rolling.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said, shaking my head.     

I was queasy about it for a couple of reasons.  First, Mom wasn’t buying much junk food anymore.  I wasn’t eating it, and Mom was still dieting.  It would be fishy if a bunch suddenly showed up.

Secondly, I wasn’t all that keen on Rachel’s involvement with fattening sis.  I’m not against having a partner-in-crime (there have been times when I swear Mom’s been helping), but involving someone outside the family seems wrong.  Sissy bullies me, sure, but I doubt she’d ever recruit a stranger.

“C’mon,” Rachel said, heading for the stairs.  “It’ll be fun.”

“Rachel, wait…”

I chased her, but she beat me to the top.  By the time I reached the landing, she was turning the knob on sissy’s door.

“Don’t,” I gasped, but she just gave a goofy grin and pushed her way in…

When I reached the threshold, Rachel was turning a slow circle beside Michelle’s bed.  “I thought you said her room was a pigsty?” she asked.  Sissy’s room was immaculate.  Her bed was made, the clutter was gone, and the carpet was freshly vacuumed.

“It was,” I said, similarly flummoxed.  Dad’s speech about turning over a new leaf must’ve made an impact.

“Well, we can’t plant anything in here,” Rachel said, frowning.

I was glad she reached that conclusion on her own.  I’m not sure what I would’ve done had she started stuffing donuts in her drawers.

Now, I didn’t have to worry.  I could get back to worrying about everything I was worried about before she arrived.  Would she like my perfume?  How close would we sit?  Could I put my arm around her?       

We were halfway out the door when Rachel glimpsed a notebook sitting alone on sissy’s freshly dusted dresser.  “What’s this?” she asked, picking it up as casually as a magazine in a doctor’s office.   “My Diary,” she said, reading the cover.  Then she scoffed, “Is your sister twelve, or something?”

“Give me that.” I snatched the notebook from Rachel’s fingers with surprising speed.   As I flipped through, I noticed dates at the top of each handwritten page, including one from today. 

I couldn’t believe it—

Michelle kept her own journal.

--Jessie