Christopher's Diary: Secrets of Foxworth

“I’m sure she could if she wanted to.”

“I’m not.”

“Maybe I should have said if she had to.”

“Maybe.”

I paused and looked at him sitting there with admiration so clear in his face. He smiled softly, his eyes warm and loving. “My girlfriends think you’re going to break my heart,” I said.

“Hand me that knife.”

“Why?”

“I’ll sign a pledge in blood.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. He rose and came over to kiss me and then brushed back my hair.

“I really like you, Kristin. I’ve never liked any girl this much. I want to say ‘love,’ but I’m afraid you’ll doubt me.”

“Say it anyway,” I told him.

He widened his smile. “Kristin Masterwood, I, Kane Hill, declare that I love you. When I’m away from you, I think so hard about you I forget what I’m doing. I don’t hear anyone talking to me. When I close my eyes, I see you. You’re with me when I’m asleep, and you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up. If I could skip everything between now and the day I could marry you and care for you, I would do it.”

We kissed.

“Let me finish making dinner,” I said softly. His words had taken away my breath. I could barely do more than whisper. Every part of my body he had touched was tingling with anticipation of his lips and fingers caressing me lovingly again. He nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll go up to your room and start some homework and leave you alone so you won’t be distracted. I’m gonna be very hungry.”

“You’d better be,” I said.

He walked out slowly, paused in the doorway to smile again, and then went up to my room.

I didn’t know when I had felt more content, more happy. I made sure to follow my father’s recipe exactly, measuring his ingredients carefully, and then put the lasagna in the oven. After that, I worked on the salad and got out some bread to heat. We had some of my favorite frozen yogurt. I planned to put some fresh fruit on it and surround it with ginger snaps for dessert.

Confident that we’d have a great dinner together, I finished setting the table and then went upstairs to join Kane and maybe start some of my own homework, but when I stepped through my bedroom doorway, I stopped as if I had walked into a glass wall.

Kane was lying on my bed.

And in his hands was Christopher’s diary.

Epilogue

“I was bored with my history assignment. It actually made me tired, so I leaned back on your bed and thought your pillow was really hard.”

I didn’t speak. All I could do was stare. Every muscle in my body felt locked. It made him nervous. He fumbled with the diary.

“So I moved the pillow and saw this. At first, I thought it was your diary, and I swear I didn’t open it, but then I realized how old it was and was naturally very curious. You look so upset, Kristin. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“How much have you read, Kane?”

“Just the first page. What is this? I mean, who is this? Was he your mother’s old boyfriend or something?” he asked, and put the diary down.

I picked it up. “No,” I said. My mind reeled as I tried to think of different things I could say. Should I make up something? Would he see right away that I wasn’t telling the truth? I sat at the foot of the bed, still stunned.

He sat up. “I’m sorry, Kristin,” he said.

I shook my head. “It’s not your fault. I probably would have done the same thing if it happened in your bedroom.” I looked at the diary. “There were many times when I almost told you about this, but I had promised my father I wouldn’t tell anyone about it.”