The Juliet's Journal

Sunday, February 2

Living with two brothers with nothing much than great annoyance and airheads is just great. Or at least that’s what I thought.

     I am Juliet Travis and this is my journal. Some people say what sort of dork people would keep a diary or journal, but for me I doubt that —journal is where I let out my inner thoughts.

     My Sunday morning often begins with a disaster, like today. Seriously, having a brother— a seven-year-old brother could make your head explode right after the sun goes up.

     “Julie, wake up! Wake up, you sleepyhead!” Jesse shouts. I don’t mind if he can wake me up nicely and soundly, but shouting on top of his lung right to my vulnerable ear is not acceptable.

     “Okay, okay, I’m up! Just don’t shout at me like that next time, silly!” I say, dragging my butt off the bed. Jesse is my one and only seven-year-old little brother that I wish I wouldn’t have more. Baby-sit this little crappy-monster is absolutely equal to nurture ten baby dragons. True story.

     After shower, I walk downstairs only to find out a disastrous. Earthquake? No, worse. Marshmallows scatter all over the kitchen bar, spilled milk, cookies is crunched down to the floor, colorful crayons mess the dining table and Jesse is smiling.

     “What have you done?” I asked, in rising tone. He gives me this super cute-look all over his face that he thinks I’m going to fall for it but I’m not. “I’m making s’mores. There’s one for you too,” he says, pointing his tiny finger at the horrendous-looking s’mores on the table.

     “Jesse, no one have s’more for breakfast,” I tell him with a serious look and he replies, “My friend Charlotte have them. All the time.”

     Who could have s’mores all the time? You could end up with diabetes or migraine.

     “Well, whoever your friend is, he might be out of his mind having them all the time,” I say and continue, “I want you to clean this messes you made and finish up your homework.” But when he doesn’t respond I finally let a growl, “NOW!”

Sunday is the only day you can lie your ass down on couch, control the remote and channeling various tv programs you like with a glass of smoothie and nougat bar if you have finished your homework the day before. But having to watch over your brother who cannot stop making the house spinning like a whirlwind, you might be complete your homework on Monday morning.

      You must be wondering I don’t have another family since I keep complaining that I’m taking care of my brother . . . .alone.

     Here’s the thing: My mother is an eye specialist that spends most of her days in private hospital, about 7 km from our house. She rarely at home, probably too many people suffer from eye infection or something. What are these people doing with their eyes? Too much Facebook?

     Only once in a blue moon I have chance on meeting her. Another time in the blue moon, I think she might go crazy plucking people’s eyes. Horrible.

     Then, here goes my older brother, Jared. He’s seventeen and goes to the same school as I am. And whether he’s home or not, same thing would be happening to me and Jesse and the house. His disciplinary, firmness and leadership is completely, abnormally ZERO. Only he’s a brainiac.

     Basically, everything that happens around the house, Jesse and chores is conducted by me. Just me, alone. Seriously, I rather have Mum plays a role of a happy, full-time housewife in fancy costumes rather than having her as a gloomy-ugly-plain-white-coat doctor.

     

My phone is ringing and is coming from my favorite friend, Spencer.

     “J, it’s me Spencer,” she says. Is she kidding me? I mean of course it’s her! That’s why I save her number!

     Eventually I give her my best reply, “It’s great that you call.” She lets a long pause between my reply that give me wonder what is she doing. “Hello?” I call back.

     “Um, can I go to your place?” she asks.

     “Spencer, do you need to ask that? Besides, no one’s home. Just me and little monster,” I say.

Spencer arrives, having a huge backpack dangles on her frail shoulder. She tiptoes toward the dining table. “You have to help me with algebra, J,” she lets out with a heavy breath. I finally spot her huge backpack is filled with her algebra homework. 

     “You know I don’t do math,” I say sincerely. “I’ll call for help. I’m getting Jared,” I say as I walk upstairs but I stop halfway when she screams.

     “W-Wait! No,no. It’s fine. I’ll try doing it my own,” Spencer say deliberately changing her mind. She takes out her three-inch algebra textbook, holds her pen and looks at me intensely, “Jared’s here? I thought you said on the phone, it’s only you and Jesse.”

     “Does it matter? He’s invisible, Spencer. He’s invisible anywhere,” I say, continuing my steps upstairs to check on my brother, Jared and my brother, Jesse.

Monday, February 3

There are two things I don’t like in Math class. No. 1) London Ames, an appealing, fixity-popular gal in ninth-grader and No. 2) Mr. Alberto, a Mexican-bred but raised in States who I have to admit quite tremendously heedless because he only turns his attention to heinous London.

That girl is really something!

“Class, now since we’ve finished with algebra, let wus move on to trigonometry,” Mr. Alberto said, with his fingers running in the air as he spoke. “ Before we start, how about an intro about trigonometry. Anyone?”

But before anyone could reach their hands up, he skewed to London who was draping herself so she could engage in recreation with her iPhone.

“How about you, Miss Ames? You want to give a try?” he asked her. She shut her iPhone, stood up, smiling like an obtuse hyena and eyeing us like a hungry pink-spots cheetah.

“Of course, Mr. Al,” she said. Was she having some kind of secret little scandal with Alberto? I mean, she called him Mr. Al.

That girl is really super-something!

“Trigonometry is also one of the Mathematics vastly branch which studies the relationship of length of triangles’ sides and the angle between those sides,” she explained sturdily.

Can I tell you she JUST Googled that?!

Basically, my Math class started with London and ended up with London.

     “Finally it ended. You know how suck it was when London got it all,“ Spencer snapped right after we walked out from the class. “She’s a total—“ she paused, thinking the right word.

     Just then, London barged in and offended us, “What’s wrong, darlings? Stuck with trigo?” She laughed madly and I swear she looked exactly like an obtuse hyena.

     “She’s a total BANGER. That’s the right word for her, Spencer.” I said.

After lunch, Spencer and I headed for Biology. And then, I totally forgot to tell Jared that I need to stay after school because Jared is my all-time chauffeur, so my changeable schedule need to be approved by him. It’s not fair that he got his driver license at fifteen while I still cannot.

I was still searching for Jared when a crowd of kids ran crazily and rushed to the main foyer as if a superhot boyband was coming. Amidst the mad crowds, I spotted a tousled, low-cut deep brown hair that seemed to be very familiar to me. As the hair was getting closer(I didn’t mean the hair was walking, it’s literally), I could see a blue, sparkling eyes, a beautiful smile and a perfect nose over his remarkable face.

It took time for me to realize that boy, that cornered by kids tapping his back and welcomed him back was actually my secret crush seven years ago, back when I was in second grade.

His name is Nolan Lee. And yes, I’m a big fan of his smile.

Before I could make my move to say hi, whether he remembered me or not, London was already making her first move. I utterly and completely consented that that girl always getting on my nerve.

I was about to puke in her face when I heard she said something so phony and cheesy and stupid to Nolan:

“Nolan! It’s really, really great to have you back. I mean I dreamed about you last night and the thought of you coming back here was actually coming true! Can you believe that?!” she said, flipping and twirling her silky, long hair to make her super-pretty.

Luckily, Nolan only gave her a fake but still a beautiful smile and a little word of “Thanks” with no enthusiasm.

I canceled my purpose on greeting him. He’s going to be here after all. There, right under a shady tree beside the foyer was Jared and his plush-buds, hanging around. Jared is popular, so are his friends. Basically, they are The Most Wanted guys in school.  With excessively confidence, I walked up to them.

“Jared, I’ll be staying after school.”

“Why?”

“I have something to be done. I’ll call you.”

“What is the something?”

“Something that has nothing to do with you.”

And I walked away. Looking back, I could see his friends were laughing at me as if I was saying something stupid. Talking to him was a torture.

Tuesday, February 4

Okay, here’s the biggest, darkest, poisonous secret ever! If you happened to read this, you better put your bloody mouth shut.

I had a crush on Nolan when I was in my second year of primary. He’s a mixed of Chinese-American-Australian boy. I thought he spoke differently from the rest of us because he looked like a pure Chinese. So, I didn’t dare to talk to him. But one time (during fifth grade) when we were queuing for food during lunch, I was pushed back and accidentally stepped on his shoes.

I apologized so many times I can’t remember and he just smiled saying “No problem” in his amazing Australian-slang. I nearly dropped my jaws when he could actually speak English.

    

He moved to Hong Kong the next year(during sixth grade). Since I thought I could never see him again, I made a special goodbye letter to him during his last day at school and I never know whether he had a look in it or threw it away. I. Hope. He. Not.

But yesterday he’s back! Watching him all grown-up and had grown a lot cuter than I could ever imagine.

Aaaaarrrggghhhh— Surreal!

I’m not sure if he remembers me. Even it is not my name, at least my face.

Today, during social studies, our homeroom teacher, Miss Peach told us that we’ll be welcoming a new student: Nolan Lee.

I almost dropped my heart into ravine when I heard that. Spencer, who sat beside me on the left started to giggle hysterically, “I know that boy! He is waaaaaaay too charming.”

And then, my heart started to thump really fast and brisk that I thought I suffered from tachycardia when he finally walked in. I dared betting the girls might be dying from excessively divine beauty-charming aura that spreading across the room. That included me.

He introduced himself shyly—you know, that kind—head-scratching, feet-staring, eyes-wandering and lips-reddening. Wait, scratch the last one.

“Um, hi. . um. .good morning, My name, I mean. . I’m Nolan Lee. I. . um. .just got back from Hong Kong. And. . um. . .Hong Kong was great. . .and. . .I—“

Before he could finish the line, Miss Peach snapped, “Okay, Mr. Lee. Save that for graduation. Empty seat beside Miss Travis.”

Did she just say my name? Empty seat beside me? Oh, yeah, it was an empty seat beside me. Spencer and I were dumbfounded. I could see London was eye-balling me like, well—a hyena.

I was stiff and only looking straight at the blackboard the whole class with Nolan on my right side and Spencer kept staring at me (actually, she was staring at Nolan) from my left side. I could never say hi to him with my spineless nerve even he’s just sitting ten-inch away from me. I better stop writing about this.

Now, I’m totally freaking out that Jesse had ruined the house and my room—again!

“Jesse, I told you not to come into my room! I told you that like zillion times!”

“I just want to find my toy car Brady.”

Did he just name his car Brady? Seriously?

“I’m pretty sure that Brady is somewhere else out there because I’m pretty sure it’s not in my room.”

“But Jared said you took it.”

Jared said what?!

“He said that? Well, apparently he might lost his brain somewhere because there’s nowhere in this world I would play with Brady.  Now Jesse, stop messing around in my room, okay?” I moaned.

Suddenly, Jesse walked at the corner of my room and by the bedside table, he found Brady.

“Brady, There you are!” he picked it up and jumped happily. Turning his back to me, he frowned. “You took it, Julie!”

I. Swear. I. Did. Not. Take. Brady.

Thank goodness Jesse is now sleeping. It takes me forever to get him to sleep and eventually Jared helps me out. He plays with Jesse and Brady, reads him a bedtime story of a cat that can do tricks (only kids believe that) and tucks him in.

Maybe I was wrong about Jared. . . . .

“You owe me, Julie. Five dollars.”

. . . . . . . or maybe I wasn’t.

Saturday, February 8

My mum has this very serious, contagious and hardcore money syndrome attack everytime I bring up money issue during dinner. Like today.

“Mum, can I have some cash? I promised Spencer we’re going to mall tomorrow.”

“I already gave you a lot last week. You spent it all?”

She exaggerated on a lot part. I hated when she did that.

“Well, last week was for last week, mum.”

Mum shook her head, “No, Juliet. I gave you a lot last week because I wanted you to come up with a plan on managing your money wisely.”

WHAT?!

This woman, whose milk fed my fragile body, whose blood running through my veins and whose DNA might be accidentally switched, is my mother, Kelly Travis. This noble woman also is loaded. She earns around six-figure incomes from her mad job she’s doing—plucking eyes. She’s a mother of three and being soooo pathetically picky. I don’t know when this greedy-geeky syndrome has got her, but it’s getting worse.

“Mum, it’s not fair! You bought a Balenciaga suede bag last week. How’s that a wisely-spending?”

“Juliet, it’s a present. My friend at hospital gave it to me.”

Okay. A bag worth thousand dollars for present? That’s spendthrift!

“What for? Your birthday isn’t until April.”

Or maybe mum has a secret lover. But another doctor? Seriously?

“Now, you better keep it low, okay. Your brothers and I are still eating.”

“What about the money? I really need it, mum.”

“I told you, that’s it. You won’t get a cent until next week. If you’re done eating, go upstairs and finish your homework.”

I’m so MAD I could ssSSCCCRREEEAAMMMM!

“Unfortunately, I already finished it!” I grabbed my plate, threw it in sink and stormed upstairs.

Now that I’m in my room, writing this and I just can’t be more. . . tolerance. Then, I decide to call Spencer that probably I want to call off our Sunday outing.

“What? No way, J. We promised,” Spencer disagrees.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You have something going on, haven’t you?” she said in a deep voice.

“Yes. I don’t have any money for tomorrow. How am I doing to shopping for my favorite t-shirt?”

“That is your problem? Chill, J. You have me, okay. Tomorrow, get pretty and be at the mall and I pay.”

That’s why I told you she’s my FAVORITE friend!

“Really? For real? It’s not one of your grimy pranks, right?”

I remembered the last time we went to the mall and I grabbed a lot of Mars chocolate bars because I thought she’s paying for it and then she said she didn’t remember that she supposed to pay for it and faked that she didn’t bring a dollar.

I was totally buying it and nearly crying at the counter.

“No, of course not. This time is real.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Spencer! That really means a lot.” I jumped happily.

“Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

I run downstairs to get my favorite mango pudding with ice-cream for dessert because remember that I stormed upstairs before dessert?  I hope they saved the last for me.

I open the fridge and it’s not there. My MANGO PUDDING WITH ICE-CREAM isn’t there!

I search recklessly for the pudding and all I see is the ice-cream. So, I come up with a conclusion: THEY DIDN’T SAVE THE LAST PUDDING FOR ME.

“The pudding is on the counter. Scoop the ice-cream yourselves.” It was mum.

“Um, thanks.”

Then I realize she’s sitting in the living room in dark.

“What are you doing in the dark, mum?”

“I’m waiting for you until you came down and have your dessert.”

I’m not sure whether I should be angry or numb. But she’s making me numb.

“Oh, thanks, mum. But I can help myself.”

Suddenly, it strikes me that mum was right about the wisely-spending. As I’m looking around our spacious kitchen, I think she’s doing her best. I mean, we’re living in a two-storey bungalow with an attic, mum and her BMW, Jared and his Polo, our private school tuition and Jesse’s piano class fees, Man, that must cost a lot.

I guess I exaggerate things too much.

“Mum, I’m so sorry that I yelled at you. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” And then, I hear snoring—oh, it’s mum.

I guess I should apologize again tomorrow.

Sunday, February 9

I JUST CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME and this might be the longest entry because today was a mad day.

I came down from my room after I got all dressed— purple checkered sweater, black jeans, half-ankle boots and a French braid.

As I was about to have fun, of course seeing mum in flash and dash setting the breakfast table, I knew something was so not right.

“Oh Juliet, it’s good to see you up this early. Look, I just got an emergency call from hospital so I really need to go. Now, could you please—“

Before mum could finish her words, I butted in, “Mum, it’s Sunday and I’m going out.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. Take care of Jesse while I’m gone, okay? It won’t be long.”

Duh, that’s what I’ve been doing.

She kissed my forehead and grabbed her car keys and rushed to the door. Just then, Jared came down.

“Where’s mum?”

“Well, that’s a good question, Jared. Mum is working and since I’m going out, you have to look after Jesse.”

Jared gave me this seriously?  look because I knew he wouldn’t want to. Despite that, he deliberately threw me some rotten excuses.

“I. . . I have Biology extra class today after sending you and Spencer to the mall.”

I blinked my eyes, “On Sunday? Nice try, Jared.”

As he made his way to the front door, I ran after to stop him. “Uh-uh, you’re going nowhere without Jesse.”

Amidst the ‘short-scuffle’ between me and Jared, Jesse suddenly cried, “I wanna go to Charlotte’s house.”

WHAT?!

This little monster cannot be serious!

Apparently, his cried was getting serious and deafening and that finally both Jared and I gave in.

“Alright, alright, we’ll get you there.”

Then we heard a knock at our door. It was Spencer.

“Hey, J. Ready for a blast?” she said enthusiastically.

“Spencer, I think we got a little situation here,” I said.

Spencer was confused but as soon as she looked at Jesse’s sombre face, she said, “What’s wrong, Jesse. Did they hurt you?”

“NO!” Both Jared and I said in unison. Jared finally heaved dementedly. “Listen, I’ll send Jesse to Charlotte’s and you girls to mall. Are we clear?”

“What about your Bio class, Jared?” I teased him.

“You got me, okay? Who would have Bio on Sunday?” he stamped.

I thought so.

Since everyone agreed, I bent down to Jesse and sweetly asked him, “Now, ladybug. Tell us where this Charlotte’s house is.”

Charlotte’s house was not really far from ours. I estimated as we drove along the neighborhood, about twenty minutes by bicycle. And we made ten and a half minutes by car.

“Stop! There, her house,” Jesse pointed and shouted. Jared pulled the break in front of the house and Jesse and I crawled out.

I breathed deeply, smiled shiningly and knocked tranquilly. The woman who asked the door was tall, fair and purely Asian, I guess.

“Hi, um. . .. I’m Juliet Travis and this is my brother Jesse. I wonder if he could stay here with Charlotte which I suppose she happened to be your daughter?”

Who spoke like that?!

“Oh, so this is Jesse. Sweet boy. Charlie told me a lot about you. Sure, come in.”

“I’m sorry but I just want to drop him here. I got something else. You really don’t mind Jesse stay here, Mrs. . . .”

“Tanya Lee. Just call me Tanya. I’m not that old, am I. Yeah, I’m sure Charlie would be so happy to see her friend here. You can take him anytime.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Lee. No, Tanya. Thank you. I’ll probably pick him at lunch.”

And so Jared drove us to the mall. Spencer and I had a brilliant time at mall and I got my favorite t-shirt Spencer promised to pay for and we had steaks at The Chill Grill. We were drowning in the lake of clothing and accessories until we forgot what time was it. It was past dinner.

I was scared to death when I saw Mum’s car already parked at the porch.

I’m a dead duck. I’m a dead duck. I’m a dead duck.

If only Mum finds out I secretly left Jesse at his friend’s and completely forgot to take his home. So, I sneaked into my lawn very quietly and took my bike very courteously and headed to Charlotte’s. Like I said, it took me exactly twenty minutes to reach there.

Tanya must be freaked out as she hastily came outside before I could even knock first.

“Oh, Juliet. It’s good you’re here. What took you so long? I thought you’re going to pick him at lunch.”

“I know and I terribly sorry. I hope he didn’t burden you. He’s a mess, really.”

“No, no. He’s a good boy. Well-mannered, articulate and smart. And they’re having a good time.”

Really?

I hurriedly rode back home with Jesse at the back, asking me to slow down.

At the living room, Mum was standing, arms crossing at her chest and a frowned face.

“Where have you been? It’s passed Jesse’s bed time. And what’s with the shopping bags you’re holding?”

“Mum, I can explain, okay.”

Of course telling her the real story would have given me a green card of getting grounded and there’s no way I would let it happen. So, I told her this:

“Gary asked us to join him riding bicycle at the park. And we had our lunch and dinner and we shopped a bit together. So, yeah, we kind off late.”

“Are you sure Gary was with you the whole time?”

“Every second.”

Mum only trusted me when I mention something and Gary has to do with the something. Luckily Mum didn’t realize that why on earth I would accept his offer to spend my Sunday with him because she knew I hate Gary.

“By the way, I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t mean it that way.”

“Just get over it, Juliet, shall we?”

Mum went to the kitchen, preparing Jesse warm milk before bed. As he made his way, I stopped him saying, “Hey buddy, this is going to be our little secret, okay?”

And he pinky-promised me.