Read The Secret Diary of Ashley Juergens Online

Authors: Courtney Kelley : Turk Ashley; Turk Juergens

The Secret Diary of Ashley Juergens (6 page)

“Picture if you can a world where the institution of marriage isn’t so much a destination but an escape. An escape from your worries and problems until you discover that your loving partner has become your worst enemy, to have and to hold until death do you part. Throw a baby into the mix and you have the exact reason Ashley Juergens is choosing to live the single life in . . . the Twilight Zone.”

 

2:37 P.M.

 

MY DAD WANTS TO COME HOME! MY DAD WANTS TO COME HOME! MY DAD WANTS TO COME HOME!

I overheard him telling Mom. Obviously, she’s not thrilled and doesn’t really want him back here, but at least he wants to come home. He also wanted to find out from me how Amy ended up having sex and getting pregnant despite his constant warnings. I broke it down for him:

AMY + BAND CAMP – FRENCH HORN + RICKY + 2 ½ MINUTES – CONDOM = PREGNANT

 

(See, I
was
paying attention in math class.) I also told him that Ricky has a girlfriend named Adrian. Out of everything I told him that seemed to bother him the most. Umm, why? He doesn’t even know this girl, so why would he care so much? Why am I even worrying about it? I have too much to think about already. Dad also asked if Mom was seeing anybody. Jealousy isn’t usually good in a relationship, but it’s good in this case. Maybe if he’s jealous he’ll want to move back for good.

I told him she’s seeing ten other guys. Okay, I didn’t. I wanted to and I came very close, but I didn’t.

3:32 P.M.

 

Amy came back with Mom. She went to go “take care of it,” as they say, but ended up changing her mind. She didn’t want to talk about it. I know Amy didn’t tell me where she was going in order to protect me, but I wish she had. I could have gone with her, supported her. But I didn’t take it personally because she came back home, she told me she had decided to keep the baby—and Dad’s home, at least for a little while.

7:12 P.M.

 

Amy and Mom were talking in the kitchen tonight. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it sounded like a nice talk. That must mean Amy will be talking to Mom more about everything. That’s good. It’ll cut down on the window escapes.

And Amy probably got the first good night’s sleep she’s had in a long time.

 

7:55 A.M.

 

You can’t make jokes in this house. Which is too bad for me and really bad for my dad—well, I mean if he still lived here it would be too bad for him. I make a little joke about how even though I’m late for school at least I’m not late for my period, and my mom forces me to apologize to Amy. At least I’m trying to find humor in the situation. Most people can’t even do that . . . like my mom. And any sense of humor she might have had has been obliterated completely by Babygate. So with sarcasm and humor not allowed, I might have to become a mime with no personality. It’s good I have this journal. I can communicate with the world somehow.

I started talking seriously about Dad coming home to help. That wasn’t received well, either. Amy said she’s not even going to be staying here. Then she stormed off. My mom said she thought we were getting along. So did I. But every day seems to be different around here. One day I’m helping her escape out the window, the next she’s barely speaking to me. That’s why I thought it was a good time to bring up Dad, since I’m not the only one not getting along with people. But it seems like it’s never a good time to bring up Dad. My mom still wanted to talk about Amy, which I am sick of doing. I want to talk about Dad, about him moving back into the house, back where he belongs. I’m fine with Mom being serious about everything as long as Dad’s here to counteract it with his sense of humor—it might be lame, but at least it’s something. And let’s face it, I wouldn’t mind apologizing for stuff if there was someone next to me being made to apologize, too.

I wonder where Dad is. I don’t think he went to Vegas; I think he’s still in town but I don’t know where. I called all of the local hotels and there wasn’t a George Juergens staying in any of them.

If Amy’s really leaving then he has to come back—the idea of me and Mom trapped in this house together is just too depressing. And if that’s not going to happen then I might as well pack up my stuff and leave, too. I can go live with my dad wherever he’s living, as long as it isn’t with his mistress. I told this to my mom minus the mistress part. She changed the subject but didn’t say no.

8:32 A.M.

 

School seemed even more ridiculous than usual with all this stuff going on at home. Plus, everyone has brothers and sisters who go to Amy’s school and know she’s pregnant, thanks to Lauren and Madison. I stayed at school for only ten minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore and left.

Principal Miller, this detention should be removed from my record for the following reasons: number of pitying glances received from fellow students: 13; number of teachers/administrators who asked me to give them the scoop on Amy: 5 (4 if we don’t count you, Principal Miller); number of students who tried to start inane conversations with me in the hopes I would bring up Amy and the baby: 11; number of times the crowded hallway parted like the Red Sea every time I came around a corner: 2. That is if you are even reading this, which I really doubt. I know this journal is at the bottom of a pile somewhere in a school closet where no one will find it until the next principal comes along. Which is kind of too bad. There’s juicy stuff in here.

 

8:42 A.M.

 

I started walking home when the bag boy from the grocery store drove by and gave me a ride. He’s kind of obsessed with me, which is usually annoying but convenient today. I think his name is Ned . . . or maybe it’s Ted. Anyway, whenever NedTed bags our groceries he stares at me instead of focusing on what he’s doing. He must have broken five dozen of our eggs since he started working there. He also bags our groceries using both paper and plastic. I think in his mind that’s the equivalent of giving me a dozen roses or something.

Another one of your favorites, Principal Miller—my red plaid kilt miniskirt with my favorite skull-and-bones tee, remember? I think it’s landed me into detention a few times before.

 

As NedTed drove me home he made small talk by telling me what was currently on special (artichokes and tomato sauce, if you’re interested). I think he could tell I was getting bored because I kept trying to turn up the radio. He asked if Amy went to school with a girl named Adrian. I said yeah. He said she’s in the grocery store buying condoms all the time. Then he told me he liked my outfit.

When I got home, I was relieved to see that Amy was still around. I asked her about Dad, because I figured she had talked to him and I knew she wouldn’t get upset or avoid the question like Mom. She said Dad wants to come home (
YES
!) but Mom won’t let him (
NO
!), so that’s pretty much where things still stand at this point.

No wonder she was your favorite, Principal Miller.

 

Amy asked if I was worried about getting in trouble for skipping school.

Yeah, me skipping school > pregnancy and Dad moving out. With a little help from me, Amy realized how ridiculous she sounded. This is rare. I thanked her for being the ultimate distraction, but then remembered I’ve kind of been a distraction for her since I was born. . . . Well, at least I would have been if Amy had ever done anything before that warranted a distraction.

I just realized NedTed knows where I live now. This is very unfortunate.

 

I told her she’s taking this whole moping around thing to the extreme. She’s not dying, she’s pregnant. I didn’t tell her this because I don’t support her. I do support her. Completely. She’s just using this as a crutch. She had sex. She’s pregnant. Deal with it.

Amy told me she had wanted to do things in a certain order, preferably: (1.) be fifteen, (2.) go to high school, (3.) be in the band, (4.) meet someone, (5.) fall in love, (6.) get married, (7.)
MAYBE
have a baby. And here’s the order in which Amy did do those things: (1.) fifteen/high school/band/
DEFINITELY
have a baby, (2.) meet someone, (3.) fall in love, (4.) get married (to do).

Isn’t there some saying if you want to make God laugh you tell him your plans? He must be laughing his head off right now. Amy’s a regular walking sitcom, all right. She put a lot of thought into what she wanted and a baby wasn’t even in her original top five. I asked why she had sex then. She said she didn’t really think about it. That’s what happens when you don’t think about things. They come back in a big way to remind you that you should have.

Amy asked me to promise I wouldn’t have sex until marriage. Honestly, sex is the last thing on my mind right now. It’s caused some problems around here. First, with Amy’s pregnancy and then with Dad cheating on Mom. I’m fine being the odd one out in this group. But just in case, I have condoms. I got them after Amy confirmed she was pregnant. I went to the grocery store when NedTed had his day off. I figured they must have a good selection if that’s where Adrian buys hers. And they did, for a corner grocery store. Different colors and textures, even flavored ones. I just wanted a box with a picture of a baby and a big “X” through it. I didn’t spend too much time picking which ones I wanted because I was afraid someone I knew would see me and it would get back to my parents, specifically my dad. So I grabbed the nearest box and got out of there. After paying, of course.

Amy told me she’d prefer I say no to sex altogether, but out of anyone in the whole world I would have thought Amy would have said no, and she didn’t. Better safe than sorry, if you ask me.

The more we talked the angrier Amy seemed to get. I asked her why she was so angry. Even though she’s fifteen and pregnant, things could be a lot worse. She’s got a boyfriend who loves her and plans to help raise her baby even though it isn’t even his. If anyone has a right to be angry, it’s me. Everyone’s moving out and even though Amy’s pregnant, I still seem to be the one getting in trouble the most. How fair is that?!

She says she’s angry at herself but I don’t believe her. How can you be angry when you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself? There isn’t enough room for both.

I wouldn’t have had to go to the grocery store if condoms were given out at school! Just something to think about, Principal Miller.

 

4:13 P.M.

 

Today took an interesting turn. Ricky, Amy’s baby daddy, showed up. Thanks for joining the program that’s already been live for
SIX WEEKS
!

Now that I’ve seen him up close I can see why she didn’t say no. A picture’s worth a thousand words, but in person, this guy’s worth a bunch more.
WOW
. He’s got a little bit of a
Rebel Without a Cause
thing going on. I get it. Ricky told Amy he just wanted to talk (like he probably did at camp) but I was sure glad those condoms were upstairs just in case.

Ricky had heard Amy was leaving town because he talked to our dad.

HE DID
?
WHEN
?!

I can only imagine how that talk went. And Ricky doesn’t come out alive in any of my scenarios. Yet here he is, standing in our living room. It’s a real George Juergens miracle.

Later on, I asked Dad about his talk with Ricky and brought up my surprise that Ricky made it through alive. He told me he had every intention of killing Ricky, but when he saw him standing there, he realized he was just a kid. Like Amy. And it’s hard to kill a kid when he hasn’t had a chance to grow up yet.

I also find it amusing Amy’s worried I won’t say no to something. Hasn’t she learned after thirteen years it’s rare when I say yes to anything? Will I please do a favor for someone? The answer is usually no. Would I like to help with this? Again, it’s a no. Can I try to be more like Amy? Yes, I could try. But no, no I won’t. The only time I answer yes to something is when I’m asked, “Did you really think you would get away with this?” Why
YES
,
YES
I did.

 

I didn’t push the conversation any further because my dad could always go back and kill Ricky if he changed his mind. Still, I wondered where the confrontation took place. I know Dad didn’t talk to Ricky at Amy’s school because we would have heard about it. Yes, that was a shout-out to Lauren and Madison. If they didn’t talk at Amy’s school, then where would Dad have seen Ricky? Supposedly Ricky spends all his spare time at Adrian’s house making good use of those condoms.

Anyway, Ricky said he wants to be involved in the baby’s life because he is the dad. This will certainly be interesting now that Ben’s in the picture. He said he was going to come back when either Mom or Dad was home (this guy has guts)—hopefully Dad, but it’ll probably be Mom. Definitely not both.

6:59 P.M.

 

My mom came home and asked how I got home from school. I could tell she already knew. I still threw out words like “taxi,” “bus,” and “walking” to distract her. She didn’t buy it. I couldn’t believe she was interrogating me about skipping school when Amy’s nearby, fifteen and pregnant.

No wonder you and my mother get along so well, Principal Miller. You’re pretty much on the same page regarding clothes and discipline. You two could share your office . . . maybe get a partner’s desk. My dad has a few nice ones in the furniture store. I know that kind of setup would help save a couple of hours in my day and you two wouldn’t have to call each other all the time. Get back to me on this.

 

The good news is, all Mom did was interrogate me. Before all this band camp gone bad business, I would have been grounded for sure. But now that Amy’s pregnant, and as long as I don’t get pregnant, my punishment for little things like catching a ride home from NedTed is pretty light. A stern talking-to? I feel like I’m bonding with Amy’s baby already.

I told Mom
EVERYONE
at my school is talking about Amy’s situation. The high school social circle and the middle school social circle have merged and now have the circumference of the earth. Which, in case anyone didn’t know, is huge and why I can say that literally
EVERYONE
knows. And I’m not just talking about the kids. The cafeteria lady wouldn’t even serve me lunch until I gave her the “dish,” pun intended, on Amy and her situation. The crossing guard wouldn’t let me cross the street until I promised to tell her as soon as I know whether it’s a boy or a girl. And people who never even knew I had a sister are stopping me to ask all about her.

Dad came home and suddenly I forgot about everyone else except the three of us. I gave him a hug and then went up to my room so he and Mom could talk. Amy and Ricky were still talking, too. Then Ben came over and he and Amy talked. Talking is good when it doesn’t involve whispering and rumors.

Hopefully she won’t get mad when she finds out NedTed has been parking across the street so he can offer me a ride anywhere I want to go.

 

Talking is good when it results in my dad moving back home and Amy staying, too.

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