eBookDigital Original (Digital Original)
Related collections and offers
Overview
Amalia’s grades have been slipping. She’s been worried about Maggie, whose mom’s drinking has gotten out of control. At least Amalia and her new boyfriend, Brendan, are getting along great—on a movie date, she even kisses him for the first time. But then, while she is waiting outside the theater, several drunk girls assault her and call her racist names.
Shaken, Amalia can’t help thinking that maybe Palo City isn’t the place she thought it was. She begins to shut down—and shut out Brendan and her friends. Planning her parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary party, she starts to wonder if she should even invite her extended Hispanic family to this town. Can her friends and boyfriend reassure her that she belongs in the same world as they do?
This ebook features an illustrated personal history of Ann M. Martin, including rare images from the author’s collection.
Amalia: Diary Three is the 14th book in the California Diaries, which also includes Maggie: Diary Three and Ducky: Diary Three.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781453298213 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Open Road Media |
| Publication date: | 03/25/2014 |
| Series: | California Diaries Series , #14 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 144 |
| Lexile: | 420L (what's this?) |
| File size: | 14 MB |
| Note: | This product may take a few minutes to download. |
| Age Range: | 12 - 14 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Amalia: Diary Three
California Diaries
By Ann M. Martin
OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA
Copyright © 2000 Ann M. MartinAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4532-9821-3
CHAPTER 1
Tuesday, 5/25
I knew it, Nbook.
Did I predict it or what?
When Maggie tells me about meeting Tyler Kendall and informs me that she HATES him, do I believe her?
No way.
Fact: For Maggie, "I hate Tyler" means "I hate Hollywood" means "I hate the fact that Dad is Hayden Blume the famous producer who works seven days a week and never comes home until midnight."
Fact: Tyler's OK. Fact: He likes her. Fact: He doesn't give up so easily.
So now she's singing a different tune.
It's good to see Maggie so happy.
And not just because of Tyler.
She's kicking the anorexia. I can tell.
I predicted that too. And I was right.
Wednesday, 5/26
As for me? Thanks for asking, Nbook.
Haven't felt better.
It's a little scary.
Sunny is an inspiration, Nbook.
Her mom's death hit her hard. But she's pulling herself together. Somehow.
I admire her.
I admire all my friends.
How did I get so lucky?
Maggie's here. Time to go.
Thursday, 5/27
Lunch
Big news. Double date tomorrow night. Same as last time. Me and Brendan, Maggie and Tyler (I guess "double date" isn't the right term. Tyler and Maggie are the Real Thing, boyfriend-girlfriend. Way ahead of us. Call it a date and a half. Whatever.)
I just hope people don't drool all over him again. (Tyler, that is. Not Brendan. He's not the movie star—although he could be. But that's another conversation.)
Sorry about the chocolate shake stain. (Guess I shouldn't open you during lunch.)
Don't you love [beginstrikethrough]parenthesises[endstrikethrough] parentheses? (Yes.)
4:47
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Why do I bother telling Isabel about my personal life?
Why do I let her see me happy?
Here's what happens.
Must be tough to be perfect.
7:35
Maggie comes over just before dinner tonight. Last-minute thing. Says Zeke is at a friend's, her dad's at work (as usual), and her mom's "out."
She's not feeling too great. Says she feels tense all the time.
As we're talking, I hear Simon Big Tooth Lover Boy's old car pull up. Then I hear him downstairs in the kitchen with Isabel.
And she's explaining her homework to him.
Yes, that homework. Which she does early because she's so responsible....
What a phony.
Friday, 5/28
Study hall
Flash: Brendan has a new shirt and shoes. (Yes, Nbook, the Boy Who Hates to Shop. The boy who claims his faded amber Grateful Dead T-shirt is actually white. Translation: It was white when his dad wore it in 1983.)
Well, the clothes are a pleasant surprise. So is the haircut.
When I notice the cuts on his cheek, though, I become suspicious. I ask who scratched him, and he says, "I shaved."
"Shaved what?" I ask.
He does not see the humor.
Guess I have to look at this from his point of view. I mean, if I were a guy soon to be on a double date and the other guy on that date was Tyler Kendall, wouldn't I be nervous about my appearance?
I tell him not to worry. He doesn't have to be a hunk. I like him just the way he is.
He says, "I'm not a hunk?"
I pretend to think about it.
He still doesn't see the humor.
Poor soul.
Late late late late so-o-o-o late
I'm back. I'm alive. I'm awake.
How was my night?
I might as well have been in outer space.
That's what it felt like. A trip to Pluto.
NOTE TO SELF: Learn from experience. Bring rugged clothes to next experience with Maggie and Tyler. Maybe a sword and shield.
Here's us walking toward the restaurant:
Here's us when we get into the restaurant:
The meal? The view?
No meal. No view. This time Tyler doesn't just stand there, smiling and chatting, while we suffer. Instead, he politely signs a few autographs, excuses himself, and heads back out, pulling us with him. (Got to give him credit. He must have listened to Maggie's advice after last time.)
Anyway, we leave the restaurant and sneak into a 9:00 showing at the Rubicon Theater. The cuisine is popcorn and Snickers.
No one else is in the theater. The air-conditioning is way too high.
And the movie is in Russian, so you have to read subtitles.
Maggie insists it is a great classic.
Me, I don't understand a thing.
Brendan hates it. He says I owe him one.
I'll make it up to him. Next time, we go to the cineplex to see a good, stupid American comedy.
Saturday, 5/29
I'm dreaming. Brendan and I are still at the Rubicon, only somehow we've stepped into the movie. We're stranded on the frozen tundra in our shorts and sandals. We're clutching each other tight, trying to keep warm—and we can see the audience staring, so we scream for help, but the words come out in Russian and everyone is laughing at us ...
And I hear:
I jump out of bed, thinking the tundra has been bombed.
The reality: Isabel is clomping through my room, looking for something.
"What's up?" I say.
"Good morning to you too," she snaps. (Like, how dare I be rude to her?) Then her voice drops to a whisper: "Where's that rental car information?"
"What rental car?"
"Sssssshh, Mami and Papi will hear you. You know, the car for Hector and Cristina. Did you reserve one?"
"How could I do that? I'm thirteen—"
"With Hector and Cristina's credit card number, like I told you to—"
"You never—"
"Oh. I know, you're busy dating and hanging out with stars and preparing to flunk your finals. Guess they'll just have to walk the fifty-seven miles from the airport."
She leaves the room without even closing my door. I nearly throw my alarm clock at her.
Nbook, she never asked me to do this. (At least I don't think she did.) Besides, why can't Hector and Cristina rent the car themselves?
And what's that crack about flunking my finals? I know the material (mostly).
(Well, some, anyway.)
(I can study for the rest.)
(I better.)
11:23
I just looked at the math.
Remind me never, ever, ever to open up a math book on a Saturday.
What language is this stuff?
12:47
Maggie calls. She apologizes about last night.
She hated the movie too. She was pretending to like it because she figured Tyler did. Turns out he slept through most of it.
I'm barely hearing her. I'm freaking about the finals. Especially math.
Finally I admit this to her.
She ignores me. Says she's spending the day with Tyler on the set. They're shooting extra footage for his latest movie—which was supposed to be finished, but they need some match prints (whatever they are). Anyway, they're going to have lunch at the food trailer.
"I'm going to flunk math," I persist.
She replies, "We'll swing by and pick you up."
"We'll?"
"Tyler and me. In the limo. Bring your math. I can help. We'll have plenty of time. You and I will just be sitting around and eating while they shoot."
Now we're talking.
I feel relieved.
And then I think—is this Maggie talking about (a) actually going on a movie set willingly and (b) eating?
I was right, Nbook. She's turning the corner.
Progress, progress, progress.
I just hope she holds on ...
6:02 P.M.
Honestly, I think he reads my mind.
Just as Maggie's limo pulls up this afternoon, Brendan calls. When he finds out where I'm going, he practically begs to come along.
I make him promise not to get in the way of my remedial math. He says he'll help Maggie help me.
So Maggie, Tyler, and I swing by his house to pick him up. Here's what we see:
His whole family's lined up outside the house, along with neighbors and their pets. To see the Star, of course. Brendan is so embarrassed. He apologizes like crazy.
Tyler's cool. He just waves back. "You get used to it," he says.
We have a laugh about last night. Then the boys start yakking away about baseball and cars and stuff. (This is how guys get to know each other, Nbook. It's not who you are or how you feel, but how many statistics you know.) Anyway, just as I'm about to fall asleep from boredom, Tyler asks Brendan what he's doing for the summer.
And Brendan says he's going to camp.
For seven weeks.
In western Massachusetts.
Yes, you heard me right.
I believe it's somewhere around here.
Yeah, OK, I knew he was going to camp. I just didn't know where. I guess we never discussed that.
What kid goes to summer camp clear across the continent?
Someone who used to live back East, that's who. (Nbook, why do people say "back East" but "out West"? I find it offensive. I don't know why, I just do.)
Brendan talks about how his parents used to drive him five hours from New Jersey to camp every summer, and now he can't imagine not going, because he's a CIT, yada yada yada. And I have no idea what a CIT is ("Coastally Insane Traveler"?), plus he doesn't seem the least bit ... I don't know ... thoughtful or doubtful or
SAD.
GUILTY.
BROKEN UP.
DEVASTATED NOT TO SEE ME FOR ALMOST TWO WHOLE MONTHS WHILE I SIT AROUND HERE WITH NOTHING TO DO.
There.
I got it out of my system.
It's really not that big a deal.
It's a free country. He can do whatever he wants.
Sunday night
Just a little wired
10:57
Today, around noon, Maggie calls me and asks if I'm OK. She says I looked "upset" yesterday. (Am I the worst actor, Nbook? Am I so obvious?)
"I'm not upset," I lie.
"Don't worry, maybe you can visit him."
"In western Massachusetts? Do planes actually fly that far?"
She laughs and tells me she'll be right over. She says I need company.
Actually, I don't. I feel like being alone. (Obviously I don't tell her that.)
There's a pause. I can hear yelling in the background.
Maggie's voice drops to a whisper. "Um, I'll ... be right over," she says again.
"Why? What hap—?"
Click.
About half an hour later, Maggie's limo is pulling up. When she steps out, she's carrying a duffel bag, and she's practically in tears. "What happened?" I ask.
"I. Can't. Live. With. Them."
I calm her down and invite her inside. As we sit on the living room sofa, she tells me the news: Her mom's drinking has gotten out of control. Mr. Blume wants her to go to the Betty Ford Clinic—but when he suggested it, she went ballistic.
Maggie asks if she can stay the night.
Of course I say yes.
All my little problems fly away, Nbook. I feel so bad for her.
I run out back. Mami and Papi are reading on the deck. When I tell them what happened, they agree to let Maggie stay. Mami suggests we borrow her bike and take a ride. Maybe that'll calm Maggie down.
Soon Maggie and I are heading to Las Palmas County Park. We sit on a bench and watch a pickup soccer game. A couple of families have spread out blankets and are eating a late lunch.
"You know the worst part?" she says. "Zeke. He's got this shell around him. He's, like, eleven going on thirty. Today he tells Mom to grow up. Right to her face. Dad starts screaming at him. Then Mom starts screaming at both of them. Then Dad screams at Mom ..."
"I thought she was getting better."
Maggie shrugs. "She was. Until the day Dad announced he had to go to Italy, on location. That set her off."
"Why can't he take her?" I ask.
"He offered, but she refuses to go. I can't understand her. No one can when she gets like this. Anyway, when Dad brought up the idea of the clinic, Mom freaked. She said, 'I'm just a social drinker'—but she could barely get the words out, and she was banging into furniture. In the middle of the day!"
I tell Maggie things will work out. I remind her how far she's come with her problems.
This is so sad, Nbook. Maggie's trying not to cry. I'm trying not to cry. Just then, two hands reach around my head and cover my eyes. "Don't even try to get away," says a deep voice.
"Hi, Ducky," I say. (He's a worse actor than I am.)
He's with Sunny. They're escaping Dawn. They're planning some kind of good-bye celebration for her. (She goes back to Connecticut to stay with her mom every summer.)
As they tell us about it, I watch Maggie. Her eyes are dry. She seems psyched, and she asks about the date of the party.
Ducky shrugs. "Don't know yet."
"Where's it going to be?" I ask.
"Don't know," Ducky replies. "We're just at the talking stage."
"She's not leaving for Connecticut for two weeks," Sunny says.
Sunny and Ducky start throwing out suggestions for the party. (I'm thinking: Connecticut ... that's close to western Massachusetts, right?)
Anyway, they can't agree on anything.
Finally Maggie puts in her two cent—have the party at Ducky's. His parents are still in Ghana, so there will be "no permission problems."
Brilliant idea. Ducky and Sunny agree.
And then:
She answers. It's her dad. He wants her to come home and convince Mrs. Blume to listen to him.
Maggie says no, she's already agreed to stay for dinner—and for the night—at my house.
So here we are, in my room. Maggie's asleep in a sleeping bag on the floor, twisting and turning.
And I'm finally tired.
Much more to say.
Mañana.
Monday, 5/31
Homeroom
OK, I didn't tell you what happened after Maggie and I got home last night.
It's almost dinnertime. Maggie goes to the bathroom to wash up. Papi's standing in the front hall with the phone notepad in his hand. On it are two words:
—Brendan
—Brendan
"He called twice," Papi says.
I thank him and take the sheet.
He's standing there, not moving aside. "How's your homework going?"
"Fine," I say.
"You're going to be prepared for finals?"
"Hope so."
Now Mami comes into the hall. She's got a warm, patient smile. She asks about our afternoon, then says, "Brendan seems like a nice boy."
I can see where this is leading. "He's just a good friend," I say.
Isabel, studying in the den, has a sudden coughing fit.
"You know, Amalia," Mami says, "finals are coming up."
"What does Brendan have to do with finals?"
"You do seem to be spending an awful lot of time with him," Papi says.
"It's not studying time, though," I reply.
Now Isabel sounds like she's dying of pneumonia.
"Will you knock it off?" I yell out.
"We don't mean to pressure you, hija," Mami says. "We love your friends, all of them. And we don't mind that Maggie comes over here so much. She's like one of the family. We know what she's going through. But between her and Brendan ... well, I just want to be sure you have enough time for Amalia."
"In a few weeks the summer will be here," Papi says. "And you'll have all the free time in the world."
"I know that!" I reply. "A whole, free, boring summer."
They're just staring at me, wondering why I said that.
When Maggie emerges, I disappear upstairs.
They don't need to know what's on my mind.
I can't even figure it out.
Tuesday, 6/1
Lunch
Maggie comes over after school. Around dinnertime, we're trying to do hwork on the front porch, but mainly just talking.
Brendan rides by on his bike. Like, oh, I just happened to turn down Royal Lane, what a surprise.
We chat. He says, "Hey, maybe we can all go out Friday."
Maggie tells him that Tyler has to be in L.A. for an interview.
But I say yes.
I wasn't going to study Friday night anyway.
Wednesday, 6/2
Study hall
Depressing Item #1: Today Ms. Fong assigns us a report on 1984. She assumes we've all read it, since it's on our reading list.
Wrong.
Plus, she announces the final is going to be all essay questions—chosen at random from any of the topics we've studied all year. But she won't say exactly which topics or which books. So we have to know every-thing.
Depressing Item #2: I skip lunch to meet with Ms. Sevekow about math. She explains every-thing. Patiently. At least three times.
I am starting to understand stuff that confused me in September.
Only eight more months to go.
Depressing Item #3: On the way to study hall, I turn the corner and see Amanda Janson talking to Dawn.
Home
Taking a break from 1984.
Got 2 write fast. Isabel & I taking turns on phone. Rite now she's dealing w/ rental car probl. I'm supposed to call Robinsons'. The nite b4 big anniv. party, Robnsns r taking Mami & Papi to M's college reunion in San Diego. Will stay overnite & return in time for party.
OK, Dawn-party update:
Sunny's furious about Amanda's big mouth. Says we HAVE to change our plans. And if Dawn suspects anything, DENY, DENY, DENY.
Ducky's cool. Says we can plan something else.
So S & D are coming over tonight.
So's Maggie. Again.
Says she wants to do homework. (Which is what she said yesterday.) Anyway, now she'll help with party plans.
Then she can give me a summary of 1984.
Her dad probably worked on the movie.
10:15
Maggie stays for dinner. Leaves at 9:30. Saint Isabel says, "Things must be bad at her house. These days, it feels like she lives here."
You know what? I hate to say this (and don't you dare tell anyone I did), but she has a point. It does feel like Maggie lives here.
I love Maggie, Nbook. I understand her problems. As far as I'm concerned,
mi casa es su casa. (Plus, she did help me with 1984 and math.)
But let's face it, Maggie does have a casa of her own. Running away from her problems isn't going to help. Sooner or later she has to face up to them.
I sure learned that the hard way. If I hadn't faced up to James, he'd still be harassing me.
Oh, well. Must be hard for her. I mean, she's been working so hard on her eating disorder with Dr. Fuentes. I guess a person can only handle one major crisis at a time, huh, Nbook?
Anyway, as we're getting ready for bed, I casually mention to Mami and Papi that Brendan asked me to go out with him on Friday.
Papi says, "It's almost the week of finals."
I say, "It's the Friday before the week before finals."
Mami and Papi agree to think about the date—if I promise I'll study all weekend long.
Oh. P.S.
1. Isabel talked to Mr. Robinson. He says every-thing's cool with the San Diego trip.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Amalia: Diary Three by Ann M. Martin. Copyright © 2000 Ann M. Martin. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Tuesday 5/25,Wednesday 5/26,
Thursday 5/27,
Friday 5/28,
Saturday 5/29,
Monday 5/31,
Tuesday 6/1,
Wednesday 6/2,
Thursday 6/3,
Friday 6/4,
Saturday 6/5,
Sunday 6/6,
Monday 6/7,
Tuesday 6/8,
Wednesday 6/9,
Tuesday 6/10,
Sunday 6/13,
Monday 6/14,
Tuesday 6/15,
Wednesday 6/16,
Tuesday 6/17,
Friday 6/18,
Saturday 6/19,
Preview: Ducky: Diary Three,
A Personal History by Ann M. Martin,