The idea was to sucker them all.
I wanted them to think that I was crazy, that I didn’t have a clue. So, the next time, they wouldn’t be suspicious at all.
Next time, they’d take any bet I offered.
And I’d clean them out.
I closed the diary and gave the cover a big kiss.
I was feeling great.
Sure, I’d just lost big-time. I’d won fifty dollars, then lost forty.
But I was still ten dollars ahead. And there was plenty more where that came from. As long as the diary told the truth.
I’ll be a millionaire by the end of the year, I thought.
A millionaire!
I didn’t check the diary again until after dinner. That’s when the new entries seemed to appear.
“Why do you keep grinning like that?” Dad asked. We were having ice cream sundaes for dessert. I didn’t realize I was grinning.
I shrugged. “Just grinning.”
“Who won the basketball game today?” he asked.
I wiped chocolate sauce from my chin. “We did. In overtime. It was awesome.”
“I heard a rumor,” Mom said, frowning at me. “I heard that kids in your school have been betting on the basketball games. Is that true?”
I swallowed a lump of ice cream. “That’s dumb,” I said.
Mom squinted at me. “The rumor is dumb? Or betting on the games is dumb?”
“Both,” I said.
I don’t like to lie to my parents. I always try to be as honest as I can.
“The school should clamp down on kids who bet,” Dad said, squirting more Reddi-wip on his ice cream. “You’re too young for that.”
Mom kept staring at me. Did she suspect something? Did someone tell her that I was the one making the bets?
I grinned at her. “Bet you ten dollars the school catches those kids!” I said.
Mom and Dad both burst out laughing. When things start to get tense, I can always make them laugh.
I finished my sundae and hurried up to my room to read the diary.
Would it tell me about tomorrow?
As I opened the diary, my hands shook with excitement.
This was so totally cool! Knowing things that no one else knew was just about the most awesome thing that could happen!
Little did I realize as I began to scan the words in the entry for tomorrow … little did I realize that sometimes knowing things can be really bad news.
I was so excited, the words kept blurring on the page.
I took a deep breath and held it to calm myself down. Then I started to read the entry—in my handwriting—moving my finger over the page, word by word.
DEAR DIARY,
Here is a big surprise. Tessa is in the band! I told her she could join. Chip and Shawn were really upset about it. They didn’t want Tessa anywhere near our band. They didn’t even want her to listen to the band! But then I explained to them why I let her in.
You see, Tessa told me about her uncle Jon. Uncle Jon has a big garage that’s mostly empty. He told Tessa the band could rehearse there.
He’s Tessa’s favorite uncle, and I can understand why.
You see, Uncle Jon owns a restaurant downtown. And he told Tessa that if we rehearse a lot, and if he thinks our band is good enough, he’ll let us play at his restaurant! And he says he’ll pay us!
I had no choice. I couldn’t turn that down. I had to let Tessa into the band.
Such awesome news! I wanted to call Chip and Shawn and tell them about it.
But I couldn’t tell them until Tessa told me. I had to keep things in the right order. Or else I’d get totally messed up and confused.
I returned to the diary to see what else was going to happen tomorrow …
Mrs. Culter was out sick. Everyone in her algebra class was really happy at first. They all thought that meant they wouldn’t have the algebra test.
But then the substitute teacher came in with the algebra test. And we had to take it anyway.
I’d better study the algebra problems really hard tonight, I decided. Algebra is my worst subject. Having this info about the test tomorrow was really helpful.
There was one more entry in the diary. I leaned over the little book to read it—when the phone rang.
I let out a groan. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to finish learning about tomorrow.
I jerked the telephone off the desktop and raised it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, Alex.” I recognized Tessa’s voice instantly. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Uh … working on my diary,” I said. “I really don’t have time to talk. This is the best diary entry I’ve ever written. Miss Gold is going to go nuts when she reads it!”
Tessa laughed. “At least you’re modest.”
“I’ve got to go,” I said.
“Well, I just want to ask one question,” Tessa replied. “Can I be in the band or not? Did you talk to Chip and Shawn?”
“Yes,” I told her. “You can be in the band, Tessa. If you really can sing.”
“Yay!” she cheered. “You won’t be sorry, Alex. Really. I’m good. And guess what?”
I’ll bet I can guess, I thought.
“I talked to my uncle Jon. And he may have a place for us to rehearse.”
“That’s great!” I exclaimed, trying to sound surprised.
“Uncle Jon wants to hear us,” Tessa said. “He says if we’re good enough, we can play at his restaurant.”
“Cool,” I said.
“Maybe I could come over tonight, and we could work on some songs together,” Tessa said.
I made a disgusted face at the phone. “No. Not tonight,” I told her. “I can’t. I have to study for the algebra test.”
“Don’t bother,” Tessa replied.
“Huh? Don’t bother? What do you mean?” I asked.
“Mrs. Culter is sick,” Tessa replied. “She came to see my mom at her office this afternoon.”
Tessa’s mom is a doctor.
“Mom says that Mrs. Culter is really sick,” Tessa continued. “She won’t be back in school for at least the rest of the week. So … no way we’ll have the algebra test tomorrow.”
I almost burst out laughing. I had to smack a hand over my mouth to keep silent.
“That’s great news,” I managed to choke out.
“I’ve been calling everyone and telling them the test is off,” Tessa said.
“Cool!” I exclaimed.
I held my hand over the phone and let out a wild giggle. I couldn’t hold it back.
That’s one more test that I’ll ace, I told myself. And one more test that Tessa will flunk!
I felt so happy, I kissed the diary!
It took me a few more minutes to get Tessa off the phone. When I finally hung up, I jumped to my feet. And I did another crazy dance around my room.
“Tessa flunks!” I chanted, pumping my fists in the air. “Tessa flunks! Tessa flunks!”
Poor Tessa, I thought. She just doesn’t have the right diary. She doesn’t have a diary that can tell her the future.
I suddenly remembered I hadn’t finished tomorrow’s entry. There was still one last sentence to read.
I felt so happy, almost giddy, as I picked up the diary from my desk.
But my mood changed as my eyes swept over the last sentence in tomorrow’s entry.
I gasped—and squinted at the words in disbelief …
Bad news, diary. On my way home from school, I was hit by a car.
“No!”
I let out a cry. “No way!”
I stared at the words. I blinked a few times, then read them again:
On my way home from school, I was hit by a car.
“That is so not going to happen,” I said out loud.
The diary must have made a mistake. I’m a really careful guy. I never run out in the street without looking.
Why did it say that?
How could it be wrong when it had been right
about everything else?
I slammed the book shut and slid it into the desk drawer.
My heart was pounding. I’ll just have to be careful tomorrow, I told myself. I’ll just have to be super careful—and make sure the diary prediction doesn’t come true.
Last night’s frightening dream suddenly flashed into my mind.
DEAD…. The one word glowing in bold black ink in the diary. DEAD….
Is it going to come true?
The diary only says I get hit by a car, I told myself, tapping my fingers nervously on the desktop.
It doesn’t say how badly I get hurt. Or if … if I die.
Why doesn’t it say? Why does it stop there?
Why doesn’t it tell me what happens?
I swallowed hard.
Is it because there’s nothing more to tell?
I jerked open the desk drawer and pulled out the diary.
Maybe it will tell me more, I thought. Maybe it will tell me if I’m going to be okay.
My hands were so sweaty, the pages stuck to my fingers. I finally turned to tomorrow’s entry and read it again.
Bad news, diary. On my way home from school, I was hit by a car.
Nothing more. Nothing.
Mom came to wake me for school at seven the next morning. I groaned and rolled over.
“I have an upset stomach,” I moaned. “It hurts. I really feel sick.”
Mom bit her bottom lip. She leaned over my bed and pressed her hand over my forehead. “You don’t feel hot. Should I call Dr. Owens?” she asked.
“No. I just need to sleep,” I whispered, doing my best sick act. “I think I’d better stay home today.”
I’d thought about this plan all night. If I stayed home, there was no way I could be hit by a car.
“Well, okay,” Mom said, frowning at me, studying my eyes. “I’ll make you some hot tea. It might settle your stomach.”
I nodded weakly. I listened to her make her way back downstairs.
I settled my head into the pillow. You’re pretty smart, Alex, I told myself. Stay home all day, and the diary will have to be wrong.
The phone rang. I picked it up and clicked it on. “Hello?” I asked weakly.
“Don’t forget your guitar. Are you psyched? I’m totally psyched!”
It was Chip. What was he so excited about?
“My guitar?” I croaked. “What—?”
“You didn’t forget!” he exclaimed. “You couldn’t forget that the three of us are playing in the lunchroom today.”
Oh, wow.
I did forget. I was so busy worrying about the diary.
Mrs. Jarvis, the lunchroom supervisor, said we could play for everyone at lunchtime. Our first time in public!
“Can you bring your amp?” Chip asked. “We can set up during study hall.”
“Uh … yeah. Sure,” I replied.
I couldn’t let my friends down. I had no choice. I had to go to school.
And, of course, there was the algebra test first period. A test I was ready to ace.
Okay, okay. I’m going, I decided, climbing to my feet.
I’ll just be careful after school, I decided. Real careful …
When I arrived at school carrying my guitar and amp, I had a surprise in store. Chip and Shawn were not glad to see me. In fact, they were totally steamed.
They came stomping toward me, swinging their fists tensely at their sides. I set the equipment down and turned to face them.
Chip bumped me hard with his chest, so hard I went sprawling against the wall of lockers.
“Hey—good morning to you too!” I said, trying to click my shoulder back into place.
“Why did you tell Tessa she can be in the band?” Shawn demanded.
“Yeah. Why?” Chip repeated. He bumped me again, a little harder. “Are you crazy?”
“Guys, give me a break,” I pleaded. I raised both hands in front of me as a shield.
“We don’t want Tessa in the band,” Shawn said.
“We don’t like Tessa,” Chip added.
“I know, I know,” I said. I dodged away from another bump from Chip. The guy was a mountain!
“But it’s going to work out,” I told them. “You’ll see. We’ll be glad about it.”
“Have you lost it?” Chip demanded. “She says she’s going to sing with us at lunch. And we haven’t even rehearsed with her.”
“No problem,” I said. “Did Tessa tell you about her uncle Jon?”
“We don’t care about her uncle,” Chip said angrily. “We don’t want her messing up our band.”
“Did she pay you?” Shawn asked. “How much did she pay you, Alex?”
“She didn’t,” I said. “I promise. It’ll work out, guys. Her uncle is going to give us our first big break.”
“We have to talk about this,” Shawn said, shaking his head. “I know we need a singer. But—Tessa?”
“I can’t talk now,” I said, trying to push past them. “I’ve got my algebra test first thing.” I grabbed my stuff and took off, running down the hall.
“Didn’t you hear?” Shawn called after me. “Culter is out sick. No test today!”
But of course he was wrong and the diary was right.
You should have heard the other kids groan and moan when the substitute passed out the test papers.
I watched Tessa turn bright red. Tears filled her eyes.
She lowered her head and wouldn’t look at anyone. She was so embarrassed!
She had called everyone and told them not to study.
Ha-ha. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I breezed through the test.
Score another victory for Alex the Great!
I finished early and took my test paper up to the substitute. I flashed Tessa a big thumbs-up as I walked back to my seat.
She scowled and turned away. I could see that her test paper was a mess.
I dropped back into my seat, feeling really good about myself.
Our band was excited at lunchtime.
Chip, Shawn, and I set up our amps at a side of the lunchroom. Tessa brought a list of songs she knew, and there were a few on the list the three of us could play.
We started to tune up. Tessa kept clearing her throat. “I’m a little nervous,” she confessed, “since we’ve never rehearsed or anything.”
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “You’ll be fine.”
But she wasn’t fine.
In fact, she was horrible!
Chip, Shawn, and I played “Purple Haze” to get things started. It’s our best song, and the kids in the lunchroom seemed to like it. A few kids even clapped.
Then Tessa stepped up to sing. But she didn’t sing—she screeched! Her singing sounded like fingernails being scraped down a chalkboard! Only more painful.
She sounded like a wounded animal howling in pain. She couldn’t hit a single note. I couldn’t even tell what song she was singing.
Kids stopped eating and started to beg for her to stop. That made Tessa sing even louder. I saw some kids running out of the lunchroom. One boy stuck his finger down his throat and pretended to puke.
We were supposed to play for half an hour. But Mrs. Jarvis stopped us after Tessa’s first song. “Good work,” she said. “Pack up quickly—okay?”
As we packed up, Chip and Shawn scowled angrily at me.
But Tessa seemed really cheerful. “That wasn’t bad. But I’ll get even better,” she said, smiling at me. “I just need to rehearse a little.”
“She embarrassed us for life,” Chip muttered sadly as we carried our guitars down the hall. “How could you let her in our band?”
I didn’t answer. I had other things to think about.
Mainly, the diary.
Why didn’t the diary say that Tessa was the worst singer in history? Why did it leave out that part?
When her uncle Jon hears her sing, he won’t let us anywhere near his restaurant! I thought bitterly. Why didn’t the diary tell me that?
What
else did the diary leave out about today? I wondered. What else?
I felt a shiver of fear. I kept picturing myself hit by a car … flying into the air … flattened, crushed, mangled, wrecked.
Was it going to come true? Was I a few hours away from my DOOM?
“Let’s get our bikes and go up to the dirt-bike track,” Chip suggested after school. He slapped a heavy arm around my shoulders. “How about it, Alex?”
“I—I don’t think so,” I said quietly.
It was a cool, sunny afternoon. A tag football game had already started on the playground. Kids were running with their open jackets flapping behind them.
Everyone was laughing and shouting, happy to be out of school.
I didn’t feel like laughing. My throat felt tight, and my stomach was doing flip-flops. I wanted to walk home slowly and carefully, and hide there till the day was over.
“Yeah, let’s go!” Shawn said. “The track is empty during the week. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”
Chip laughed at him. “You’ll have to take your training wheels off first!”
“Give me a break,” Shawn muttered. He tried to shove Chip, but Chip danced away.
“I can’t do it today,” I said.
I turned and gazed down the street.
Was there a car out there with my name on it? Was there a car on its way right now, roaring down the street, coming to nail me?
With a shudder, I turned back to my friends. “Here’s another idea. Why don’t you guys bring your guitars to my house, and we’ll practice some new songs.”
Chip grinned at me. “We can’t practice without Tessa, your girlfriend—can we?” he asked in a high, teasing voice.
Shawn laughed. “Alex and Tessa. What a gruesome twosome!”
I rolled my eyes. “You two are so not funny. Come on. Maybe Tessa was just nervous. Maybe we can teach her to be a better singer.”
“Yeah. Maybe if we tape her mouth shut,” Chip muttered.
They finally agreed to come over. But they said they had to stop at their houses first.
I turned and started walking toward home. I kept on the grass beside the sidewalk, as far from the street as I could get.
My legs trembled as I walked. My heart was racing in my chest.
“Don’t be dumb. There’s nothing to be scared about,” I told myself. “Two more blocks and you’re home.”