Take My Word for It by John Marsden Page B

while—in fact they can get on your nerves if you’re a bit down.
    Well, Kate Mandeville, this has been your life—from my point of view, anyway.
    J ULY 3
    Had nothing to do this afternoon so I tried to ring Mum, got no answer; tried to ring Chloe and got Lynette instead. She said Chloe had gone to the movies with a guy called Brendon—I’ve never heard of him before. I made the big effort and talked to Lynette a bit. She was pleased, I suppose. She’s got a promotion in her job—she’s running a new department, looking after Japanese customers or something. I didn’t know she spoke Japanese.
    I wonder what growing up was like for her. She seems so confident and polished. I wonder if she ever got so depressed she felt like pulling the plug. It’s hard to imagine, but you never know with people.
    J ULY 4
    Dear Lisa,
    Oh, so much to say, but I don’t know where to start! Lisa, there’s a lot about you that I didn’t understand before. If only you let people like Sarah and Rikki read this Journal! So many people think you’re tough—no, not tough, sorry, that sounds terrible—but strong, and a bit hard to approach. They say you never show your feelings or tell anyone your problems and I think they assume that maybe you don’t like them much.
    This is coming out badly. What I mean is, everyone likes you, obviously—if they took a vote for School Captain in our year you’d win easily—but maybe they’re a bit scared of you. The trouble is, they have long memories, and I think they remember how hard you were with Natasha when her parents separated last year. I don’t think anyone realised your parents had just broken up—and of course you, being you, didn’t tell anyone.
    Things have changed since then, obviously—people like you because you’re generous and you’re always doing things to help people and you never whinge or backstab. But they still find you hard to get to know.
    Reading your Journal has been the first time that I’ve felt I’ve really started to get to know you. The things about you and your family—I felt privileged to be allowed to read them. The stuff about Kate and Sophie was really funny. I’d forgotten a lot of the things you’ve put down here—as you noticed I don’t write so much about school, but I loved some of your stories. I’m glad you liked reading my Journal, too—and I’m glad I showed it to you.
    Lisa, I hope we’ll be much better friends after this. Have a good rage tomorrow night—there’s some real dolls at St Luke’s. I can’t wait. Have a good mid-term too. I’m so nervous about having Marina to stay, but I’m glad she is.
    Heaps and stax of love, Cathy.
    J ULY 5
    Dear Lisa,
    I hope you won’t be angry with me for writing in your Journal. I don’t think I’d like anybody to write in mine. But I saw the way you were all swapping Journals last night, so I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind.
    I wish someone had asked me to write in theirs but I can understand why they didn’t.
    So, I am a gatecrasher in your book. It’s a strange feeling, like I’m talking to you, but with a muffled voice. I wonder if I will have the courage to watch your face as you read this.
    Lisa, the thing I find hard right now is that everyone is putting so much pressure on me to talk. I feel they watch me like cats in a garden, waiting for me to speak, to perform.
    I can’t understand how people can use words so casually. They talk without thinking: they open their mouths and the words run out like water from a tap. I used to be like that once. Now I’ve learnt that words are precious, dangerous things.
    Lisa, please talk to me, make me talk, ask me questions, force me to speak.
    I can’t stand my own silence.
    M.
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    Help! I’ve just found this, and she’s already left. She’s gone with Cathy for