Leslie's Journal Read Free

in “Don’t you look just about perfect!” Not perfect, mind you. Just about perfect. That’s because she thinks the only perfect one is her. Naturally, Mrs. Kincaid doesn’t think I’m nice or lovely or anywhere close to being just about perfect. What Mrs. Kincaid thinks I am is trouble. As in “Leslie Phillips is nothing but trouble.” That’s what I heard her say to Mr. Kincaid one night last year when she thought me and Katie were down in the rec room watching TV .
    At first I was hurt. I’d always thought she liked me. But obviously things had changed since my parents’ separation and the move into our dump of an apartment and me starting to go wild. “Acting out” is how our family counselor put it when I got caught sneaking home drunk. To hear my mom tell it, you’d have thought I was an alcoholic or something.
    “But you’re only in grade nine!”
    “Yeah, well, I’m fourteen, so get used to it.”
    That’s when the counselor said I was “acting out.” “How would you know?” I yelled. “You’re just some turd. Get flushed, why don’t you?” I never went back.
    Anyway, I decided I didn’t have to care what Mrs. Kincaid thought. After all, I was Katie’s friend, not hers. At least that’s what I figured till Katie phoned last year at the end of spring break and said we had to talk.
    “But we always talk,” I said. “We’re talking right now.”
    “This is different. We have to talk in private.”
    “Well, this is private. Unless your mother’s listening in again. Hello, Mrs. Kincaid, isn’t it a lovely day out? Why, I’d say it’s just about perfect.”
    “Cut it out, Leslie. I’m serious. We really have to talk. In person.”
    My heart started thumping because Katie was sounding so weird. I imagined maybe she had some kind of terrible disease or her parents had been killed in a car crash. We decided to meet at two o’clock at my place, because my mom would be out doing groceries. After we hung up, I just sat there shaking, thinking of how I’d have to act brave and comfort her.
    But when Katie arrived she didn’t look sick or anything. Just sort of fidgety. And she smiled a lot, really fake, and said, no, she was fine and her parents were fine and wasn’t spring break great and they should give a prize to whoever invented it.
    “Cut the crap, Katie,” I said. “I’ve been worried sick all day. What’s the deal with this Having to Talk? In Person. In Private.”
    “Well ...” She took a deep breath and started scrunching her knees and staring at the coffee table. “My mom ...”
    “Yeah? Your mom what?”
    “My mom thinks we shouldn’t spend so much time together.”
    My stomach went hollow. “Why? Is she afraid we’re turning into lesbians or something?”
    “No.”
    “Well, so what if we were? Your mom is a bigot.”
    “No, she isn’t.”
    “Yes, she is.” I gulped for air. “She hates me.”
    “She says we should expand our circle of friends.”
    “Yeah, right. That’s just a nice way of saying, ‘I think you should stop seeing Leslie.’”
    “It is not.”
    “Besides, I don’t want to ‘expand my circle of friends.’ I want things the way they are.”
    Katie started flapping her hands and looking at me all helpless like she always does when her mom means business.
    “It’s not fair. First Dad runs out on me. And now you.”
    “I’m not running out on you.”
    “You are so.”
    Suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore and started to sob. Without even thinking, Katie gave me a big hug and I hugged her back and we didn’t let go. When I settled down, she took my head in both hands and stared deep into my eyes. “Leslie,” she said, “you’re my best friend in the whole world. And you’ll always be my best friend. Cross my heart.”
    Katie looked so serious and sweet I wanted to cry all over again. But instead I started to giggle. And then she started to giggle too. Before we knew it, we were both rolling around laughing and everything