The Dirt Diary Read Online Free Page A

did.
    I’m not sure what tipped them off, but after a couple weeks of Fake Troy messages, Briana stole Marisol’s phone during homeroom and got all the evidence she needed. Briana told everyone, and I’ve been the butt of jokes ever since. Figures that when the popular girls finally learned my name, it was only so they could make fun of me.
    “Just think,” says Marisol as I come out of the dressing room. “In a few months we’ll be in high school, and after that it’s only four more years until we never have to see Briana or Caitlin again.”
    I groan. Marisol is convinced that one day I’ll be a famous pastry chef and she’ll be a successful fashion designer, and then all the people who made fun of us will regret it. I guess I’m not as patient as Marisol. I want to stop being a loser now .
    “I can’t think that far ahead,” I say. “Don’t forget. I might not even be alive in a few weeks.”
    “Your mom won’t actually kill you if she finds out about the college money.” Marisol comes out in a black kimono and raises her eyebrows at me. “Right?”
    “No, she’ll definitely kill me.” It’s not just the money that will get to her. The one time I brought up going to visit Dad, Mom lectured me for an hour on not putting my faith in people who aren’t dependable. “Don’t worry,” I add. “I promise she won’t know you helped me.”
    Marisol nods, but I can tell by the way she’s chewing on the inside of her lip that she’s nervous. She didn’t want to use her only-for-emergencies credit card to buy a plane ticket a few nights ago, but I begged until she finally caved. Since I paid her right back with money from my college fund, her parents will probably never know. I’m the only one in danger of infanticide if my mom checks the account balance in a few weeks (like she does at the same time every month) and sees it’s gone down instead of up.
    Okay, so Mom might not actually murder me, but she loves coming up with cruel and unusual punishments. One time in fifth grade, after I had accidentally broken the TV and tried to hot-glue it back together, she made me visit a nursing home every weekend for a month to help the old people. To this day, I have nightmares about massaging smelly, wrinkled feet.
    “I still think you should just come clean,” says Marisol. “Even if you do repay the money, how will you explain to your mom that you’re going down to Florida during summer vacation?”
    “I don’t know,” I admit. Okay, so my plan isn’t perfect. “I’ll figure something out.”
    Marisol shakes her head, her long earrings jingling. “You know what I think about lying. It always leads to trouble.”
    “Well, not everyone can be honest about everything like you are.” Marisol has three older brothers who are always brutally honest. That’s probably why she doesn’t care what people think of her, because she expects everyone to have an opinion. I can’t imagine not caring how other people see me.
    I grab a pair of purple-tinted glasses that make everything in the store look grape-flavored. “Besides,” I add. “This is a special situation. I’m only lying because I have to.”
    “It’s just…” Marisol starts chewing on her lip again. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what if your parents split up for a reason?”
    The glasses fall out of my hand. “My dad’s weird midlife crisis is the reason. My parents were fine before he left. They never argued or anything, and their personalities totally balanced each other out. That’s why they’re meant to be together. If I can just get my dad to come back and apologize to her, I know they can patch things up.”
    “I guess you know them better than anyone.” Marisol shrugs. Then she turns to me, a mischievous grin on her face. “So, you know what time it is?”
    I can’t help smiling, even though I feel a little sick to my stomach. “Ugly montage time?”
    “That’s right!” she says before rushing off to grab some