‘This isn’t a very good joke.’ And I smashed the phone and my body to the ground and started crying. I don’t understand what’s going on. Mom found me like this, but I couldn’t tell her why I’m crying like a big baby. I upset Summer, but I don’t care. I left to my room and locked the door. Thanks God we’re not that broke we still have doors with lockers. I don’t know why I believed some stranger saying he’s my father. But deep down… I feel like he might be telling the truth.
I honestly don’t know what to do. I wanna tell somebody, but at the same time I don’t. I wanna tell Lisa, but she’s in London. I wanna tell Thomas, but he’s out of the game. And in London. With Poppy. I’m trying so hard not to think about them. What do I even care? I’m not dating him anymore and he can do whatever he wants to. He can date Poppy or even Lisa. I shouldn’t care. But I do. I almost forgot to care yesterday, when… Well, when ‘the call thing’ happened. I still didn’t tell my Mom and she thinks it’s because of Thomas. So I just let her. If she’s only not so caring! She keeps knocking on my door and asking if I’m okay, if I don’t need anything, for example soup, tea or chocolate. I went for a chocolate.
‘Honey, you can tell me anything, okay?’
‘I know, Mom.’
‘Love you,’ and she kissed me on the forehead and closed my door. This same conversation already happened five times today.
Summer’s still upset. I can’t blame her. She’s always upset when she sees me cry even a little bit (like when I bump my big toe), let alone crying for about twelve hours now. When I went to the bathroom this morning, she hid behind big plant we have at the corridor and observed me. It was kinda a creepy.
Then we’ve got Alex, who’s just like:
‘Oh, calm down Mandy. It’s just puberty,’ and continued watching TV. Oh how I love the guy…
I was thinking the whole morning what to do if HE will call again and Mom or Alex would answer and then HE would tell them what happened.I think Mom will be mad, because she was obviously trying to hide the truth. She avoided talking about my biological father whenever I asked her about him, what is basically my whole life. What if I ask her again? I’m not sure I’m not gonna start crying again, but I’ve been crying since yesterday, so she should be used to it now.
‘Yes, darling? Oh, hello! How are you? Nevermind, you don’t have to answer how you are. It’s so nice to see you down here, Izzy!’ Wow.
‘Mom, do you remember how you told me I can ask you anything?’
‘Yes, absolutely! Just do it! Just ask me whatever you want! Go ahead and ask me, please!’ Double wow.
‘Well… Thanks for that. I really appreciate it.’
Oh my God, why couldn’t I ask her about my father? I’ve done it so many times before! I mean, I didn’t know anything about him back then. Now we spoke. And I heard him talking to me. And saying that he’s my father. Okay Izzy, let’s stop burning your face into the Jonas Brothers’ pillow and crying so hard. Nobody died, nobody hurt you, you just maybe/probably/for sure found you biological father and that’s what you always wanted the most, isn’t it? Of course it is. So start acting like a grown up and don’t let it screw your day. Tomorrow’s school and you should enjoy Sunday. That’s right, tomorrow’s school. The first day of school since everyone left for London. I’m curious who are the other kids in the ‘special classes’. I bet they’re just those weird kids who don’t go anywhere ever, because they’re just too scared or too allergic to do anything.