The Diary of Melanie Martin Read Free Page A

I do?
    If I stay in the car, I'll miss everything.
    If I hop out and say, “I got my second wind!” I'll be embarrassed.

    same day
in the
pensione
again
    Dear Diary,
    Matt came and got me! He was all out of breath and said, “You gotta see this!” I grumbled and sighed and made a big production out of getting out of the car and said, “Oh, fine,” as though I were doing him a big favor (hee hee).
    The Leaning Tower of Pisa is soooo cooool. It is in the
Campo dei Miracoli
(Cam Po Day Ee Me Ra Co Lee), which means Field of Miracles. It
is
kind of a miracle that it hasn't keeled over and crashed once and for all—
kaboom!
—like the skyscrapers Matt makes out of blocks.
    What happened was that hundreds of years ago,some builders made a terrible mistake and built a tower on sandy clay instead of solid ground. It didn't start leaning until they were working on the third story, and by then they didn't want to stop.
    Dad read that in his guidebook. He's always reading. Even at home he likes reading big fat books in his big soft chair.
    Well, guess what? The mistake turned out great because people like leaning towers even more than straight ones.
    Mom gave me a thousand
lire
so I could buy a postcard for school. Hurray! My first postcard! (A thousand
lire
sounds like a lot, but it's less than a dollar.)
    Mom and Dad also gave Matt and me each a disposable camera, and Matt has already used up almost all his film. He took some funny pictures of my feet and his feet. And my nostrils and his sunglasses. And my elbows and his knees. And lots of birds—mostly pigeons. I was in the middle of posing as a human bridge, but then I saw an Italian boy who looked a little bit like Christopher, and he smiled at me, and I could feel my cheeks get all red.
    Dad started lecturing Matt about saving film for the rest of the trip. But Mom must have thought Matt was being
artistico
(Are Tees Teek Oh), because she defended him and said, “It's his camera, Marc.”
    Dad's name is Marc. Mom's is Miranda. All our names start with M: Marc, Miranda, Melanie, Matt.
    Don't ask me why.
    I took only three pictures. In one, I made Matt lean the same way as the tower. In the other, I made him lift his arms so it would look as though he were holding up the tower. In the third, I took a picture of Mom and Dad—but Dad put one hand behind Mom's head and made rabbit ears.

    first day of spring

    Dear Diary,

    Why did I think that going to Italy would be fun? All I wanted this morning was to be left alone so I could sleep sleep sleep, but Dad said we had to get up to go “exploring.”
    Dad was halfway dressed. He was wearing striped boxer shorts and black kneesocks. He looked funny. I was going to make a joke, but I thought he might getmad. He gets mad too much, but Mom defends him and says it's because he works so hard. He's a lawyer, which means he argues for a living. Mom works hard too, but she doesn't get mad as much.
    Anyway, Mom made me take a quick shower when she knows I like baths better—especially now that I never have to take them with Matt anymore. (I used to worry he would tinkle in the tub.)
    Well, I took my shower, but at first I couldn't figure out the hot and cold knobs because they don't say H and C, they say F and C, and the C isn't for cold, it's for
caldo
(Cal Doe), which means hot. I practically burned myself to death before I got it straight.
    As I was drying off, I noticed Mom's makeup bag just sitting there. I wiped the steam off the mirror and put on lipstick and eye shadow and blush.
    I wonder if Christopher would notice me if I wore lipstick.
I wonder if he's noticing Cecily while I'm away.
I wish I didn't need glasses.
I wish my bangs would grow out.
I wish my bottom teeth weren't so crowded.
    Inside Mom's bag, besides makeup, were floss, tweezers, Q-tips, an emery board, a pink plastic razor, lotion, and cologne. I was lining everything up on the counter when Matt started pounding on the door and shouting, “Stop hogging the