Page 57 of Something Rad
Robbie doesn’t respond, moving to look through a stack of VHS tapes on my dresser.
“You know, you’re really not helping your stalking case here,” I say. Robbie picks up my VHS ofThe Karate Kid, and I cross the room, taking it from his hands. “Now, if you’re done creeping through all my things, you’re free to leave anytime.”
Robbie scoffs out a laugh, then nods, his tongue in his cheek. He makes his way over to my doorway, spinning around and leaning against the door frame to face me. “You know, Cooper,” he says. “You just keep askinghowI got here, but you haven’t askedwhyI came in the first place.”
“Because I don’t care,” I reply, crossing my arms.
Robbie tilts his head. “That so?”
“Yep,” I respond, nodding my head in the direction of the front door. “You can leave the way you came.”
Robbie shifts, his hand going behind his back, seeming to reach for his back jean pocket. Slowly, he raises his arm back up. “If you say so,” he says. The moment his hand comes into view, my brows pinch in confusion, then my mouth falls open.
My gaze flies to my desk, seeing only my math textbook and a folder on its surface. I look back to Robbie, seeing something that looks exactly like my journal in his hand. Still not believing it, I dart over to where my backpack lays on my bed and start rifling through it frantically.
“I’ll just see myself out, then,” Robbie says, a tone of mischief to his voice.
I check every pocket of my backpack twice. My journal is nowhere to be found.
Because Robbie Summers is holding it in his hand.
“See you tomorrow, I guess,” Robbie says, turning to leave.
“Wait,” I demand, storming over to him and grabbing him by the shoulder. When I spin him back to face me, Robbie has a smug smile on his face. I snatch the journal straight from his hand, hugging it to my chest defensively. I slowly raise my gaze to Robbie’s face. “What did you do?”
The smile on his face falters, then shifts into a look of irritation. “In my culture, we typically saythank you, but okay, Cooper.”
“Thank you?” I laugh without humor. “Sorry, what am I thanking you for? Stealing my journal or breaking into my house? Or both?”
Robbie lets out a laugh of his own. “It’s not breaking in if Sherri let me in the door–”
“Oh my God, if you call my mother Sherri one more time–”
“And I didn’t steal your little diary, Cooper. I’m just returning it to you.”
“It’s not adiary,” I insist. “And how did you end up with it if you didn’t steal it?” Robbie just stares back at me for a second, not responding. “Did you read through it?” I ask, fuming.
Robbie runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Jesus Christ, Cooper. You really just have to think the worst of me all the time, don’t you?”
I don’t answer his question, stepping closer to him. “Did. You. Read. It?”
Robbie continues to shake his head at me. I can’t be sure if he’s answering my question or if he’s just exasperated. I take another step closer, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.
“Where did you get it?” I ask again.
“Youdroppedit!”
I straighten my posture. “What?”
“Yeah, you can be a real klutz, Cooper,” Robbie says, shaking his head.
“But, when–”
“After school. Bus porch. Freshman with a football. Ring any bells?” Robbie asks, an edge to his voice.
My brows pull together. I remember the freshman boys playing football and how one of them accidentally bumped into me.Did I really drop my journal though? How wouldn’t I have noticed?A different thought quickly overshadows that one though. The thought that I almost lost it. That it could’ve been gone forever.
But it isn’t lost.
