April 11

Dear Diary,

Mice are more fun to watch than television! My favorite thing is when two mice get on the treadmill and spin each other around and take turns holding on upside down. It’s like a mouse Ferris wheel. Matt’s favorite thing is taking the mice on one-at-a-time field trips in his pocket around the apartment.

I like our mouse family, but when the pet store man sold us a pair and said they were female, he really should have checked to make sure.

Mom says life is full of surprises—but I like when life’s more predictable! I don’t like that everything is changing, from my pet mice to my best friend!

Two questions:

1. If I saw a mouse in the basement of our building, would I still be scared?

2. How come mice are cute but rats are disgusting?

April 11

Dear Diary,

I’m glad you’re not mad at me, because everyone else is! I forgot to take something out of my pocket, and it ruined all the laundry.

It was makeup. Cecily gave me concealer, which is beige stuff you put on your face to hide zits. I don’t even have zits yet. I put it in my pocket and forgot about it. Well, the container opened up in the washing machine and went round and round, and the beige stuff got all over everything. Matt’s T-shirts and Dad’s boxers and Mom’s gym socks.

It’s like the clothes have zits!

I wanted to make a joke about our laundry being full of surprises, but since Mom was mad, I just said, “Sorry,” which usually works.

Not this time. Instead of saying, “It’s okay, Tootsie Roll, I know it was an accident,” Mom sighed and said it’s enough to wash, dry, and fold clothes, she should not be expected to check everybody’s pockets for keychains-gum-quarters-rings-marbles-feathers-pebbles-erasers-Chap Stick-and-makeup. She said emptying pockets was our job, not hers. She added that we were getting older, and she also didn’t like that when we tried on lots of shirts and chose one, we stuffed the rejects in the hamper instead of putting them back on the shelf where they belonged.

I was about to point out that I never put feathers in my pocket—that was Matt—and that I hadn’t put any clean clothes in the hamper since last week. But I decided just to mumble “Sorry” again.

Mom held up a pair of little boy underpants with beige polka dots and said, “Apology accepted, but Melanie, this was not your ‘finest hour.’ ”

Which got me wondering. When was my “finest hour”? Did I miss it? Was I even paying attention? Did it happen over spring break with Miguel? Do I have any more ahead?

P.S. The concealer got ruined too.

Dear Diary,

I keep turning my computer on then off, and there are never any messages. Which makes me want to say, “Okay, okay, okay! I get the message!”

Would my English teacher call that “irony”?

P.S. I can’t believe I referred to Miguel as my boyfriend. He’s not even my pen pal!

P.P.S. At least I never expected Miguel to call. If I’d gotten hopeful every time the phone rang, I’d feel worse than I already do.

April 13

Dear Diary,

Friday the 13th is usually an unlucky day, but today I turned on my computer oh-so-casually, and my heart started pounding because there was an e-mail from Miguel! My mouth got dry and my stomach flipped over, and I was afraid to click on his name but too excited not to.

Here’s what he wrote:

MELANIE:

FOUR E-MAILS! THIS IS VERY GREAT! IT IS LIKE RECEIVING MANY PRESENTS WHEN IT IS NOT MY BIRTHDAY!

I AM SORRY I DID NOT WRITE, BUT I HAVE BEEN AWAY ON EASTER HOLIDAY WITH MY MOTHER (MY PARENTS ARE STILL SEPARATE). I AM NOW AT THE OFFICE OF MY FATHER. HE SENDS GREETINGS.

THE MOUSES SOUND CUTE. BUT I HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT BLANQUITO. SHE FLEW INTO MY GRANDMOTHER’S DISHWASHER. MY GRANDMOTHER DID NOT KNOW THIS AND SHE TURNED ON THE WASHER WITH THE BIRD INSIDE. AT THE END, IT WAS DEAD. (CLEAN BUT DEAD.) WE WERE ALL VERY SAD BECAUSE BLANQUITO WAS A SWEET LITTLE BIRD.

FORGIVE ME FOR NOT TO WRITE SOONER. WILL YOU? I WANT TO KNOW HOW ARE YOU. EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE ACROSS THE ATLANTIC, YOU ARE HERE IN MY THOUGHTS.

UN BESITO,

MIGUEL

Beso (Bay So) is the word for kiss, so besito (Bay Sea Toe) must mean little kiss.

Well, a little kiss is A BIG DEAL!

It was weird. I was all alone in my room with the door closed, but it was as though Miguel were right in front of me. I mean, I was looking at the screen, feeling warm and happy and tingly and melty, and my heart was beating fast and my face was tilted to the side. And I was smiling because even though Miguel is far away, he suddenly felt very close.

I almost gave the computer a beso. Instead, I wrote back:

Dear Miguel,

Gracias for your e-mail. Where did you go on vacation?

I am very sorry to hear about Blanquito. I bet your grandmother misses him. :-(

Our baby mice are now a little over two weeks old and their eyes just opened. Soft fur and open eyes do a lot for a mouse’s appearance! The babies are busy busy busy exploring their nest of wood shavings and cotton balls.

I wish you could see them!

Hasta la próxima,

Melanie

After I wrote, “I wish you could see them,” I tried to get myself to write, “And I wish I could see you,” but I couldn’t. I also tried to get myself to sign off with un besito, but I couldn’t do that either. Thing is, I didn’t want to write “Love” or “Sincerely” or “Bye” or “Your friend” or “XOXO” either.

It took me over half an hour to come up with Hasta la próxima (Ah Sta La Proke C Ma). It means “Until next time” and it’s what Miguel and I said to each other at the airport in Spain when I told him that I didn’t want to say goodbye or adiós.

P.S. I IMed Cecily Guess who wrote me? and she IMed back MIGUEL? and I IMed back :) :) :) and then she IMed omg for omigod and then she phoned.