Chapter Eight

Delaney"s Journal

Hey, Ho.

You want to hear a joke?

I'm taking your silence as a resounding yes this time.

Knock-knock

(don't you dare make cricket sounds) WHO'S THERE, BITCH?

I took the liberty of penning your response, though you could have been kinder. I've had a rough go of it today. Let's try again, shall we?

Knock-knock

[deep masculine voice] Who's there, oh sweet one?

(That was so much better. Well done. You really got into character!) Adam.

Adam who, conduit bestie of my dreams?

Adam all together and you'll see that I'm going to always be wanting something I can't have.

[flips pages in confusion] …Did something happen between you and Adam?

WHY WOULD YOU SAY HIS NAME? CAN'T YOU SEE I'M UPSET?

*nervous and uncomfortable, trying to induce said conduit bestie to close my covers and go meditate or something*

You know, Journal, sometimes I wonder if you even care about me at all. After everything we've been through together?

Aww, you drew me a picture of two mermaids having a dry t-shirt contest. Okay, maybe you do get me. I'm going to smash you into my boobs now so I can hug you and have a good cry.

*Many minutes later*

Okay, Journal. I'm slightly better, but it still hurts. I just got back from dinner with Cory and Adam and when I came back from getting dessert for all of us, I overheard Adam explaining to Cory the myriad reasons he doesn't want to be with me.

You're right, it was a dick move. I can't even defend him, and I don't really want to.

What's that? I should get some sleep and spend my weekend alone getting rip-roaring drunk?

You have the best ideas, Journal.