I make the bus late she’ll probably toss me out a window before we hit Oakland.
See you this afternoon.
Peace & joy, Tammy
P.S. Is it okay that I’m still writing to you? I know it’s kind of strange now that I have real friends, but I still like to think of you listening to what I have to say.
Friday, September 22, 1978
Dear Diary,
We’re crammed back onto the bus. The others are starting to doze off, so it’s a good time to pick up from my last entry. There’s still so much I need to get down on paper.
I left Mom with my heart pounding and went straight to the bus stop. I was in luck—one pulled up seconds later. My heart kept on pounding for the entire Muni ride north, but when I finally stepped off onto Valencia, I could hear horns honking and cable cars clanging, and I started to feel like myself again. A second later, when I heard my brother shouting, that sealed the deal.
“Sis! You’re late!”
“Oh, my gosh!” I started to panic, looking at my watch as Peter ran toward me…until I realized he’d obviously just gotten there himself. There was no sign of the rented VW bus that was supposed to pick us up at the corner yet. I wasn’t late at all. “Jerk.”
“Did I fool you?” He grinned.
“Shut up.” I elbowed him.
“Sorry. I wanted to see if I could get you to say ‘Oh, my gosh’ again.”
I hugged him. He hugged me back.
I’ve missed my brother so, so, so much.
His hair’s been getting longer since he got out from under the St. John’s dress code, and today his curls hung down to frame his face. He’s got a new wardrobe, too—a collection of flannel shirts and Levi’s and Converse sneakers assembled from various thrift shops. I’d asked if he needed me to bring anything from home with me, and he’d said he wanted a few books, but no clothes. He’s started over fresh.
I finally released him and reached into my backpack. “Your books are really heavy,” I told him as I handed them over.
“Sorry. Thanks for being my pack mule.”
“Don’t mention it.” I glanced around to make sure no one was listening, but Evelyn and Leonard and the others were milling around by the corner, talking and laughing. Everyone’s been waiting for this day for a long, long time. “I, um… I told Mom.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “When?”
“This morning.”
He whistled. “How’d she take it?”
“Not well, but I expected that.”
He nodded slowly. “Good for you. I have faith she’ll come around. Seriously, I do.”
I nodded, too, biting my lip again.
“Also…” He lowered his voice, his eyes flicking up to a point over my left shoulder. “Guess who just got here.”
Suddenly it was hard to breathe. I closed my eyes.
“Hey, Peter.” Her voice was so familiar I might as well have heard it yesterday instead of months ago. Then her footsteps slowed behind me, and I heard her quick inhale. “Oh, my God.”
It was something from a dream. Literally. I’ve had this dream.
“Oh, my God!” The footsteps came again, faster and closer. “Sharon? Is that you?”
I turned in time to see a whirl of short blond hair and denim as Tammy flung her arms around me.
Okay, I guess she didn’t completely hate me.
I was scared to hug her as long as I did Peter, though, so I pulled back. Her smile faded a little, but her blue eyes stayed bright. Peter grinned and hugged her, too, then mumbled something about checking on Dean and disappeared.
“Sharon!” Tammy bounced in her sneakers. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
“I know!” I was probably grinning like a fool—she’d said my name, twice, and it sounded exactly as good as it always used to—but I tried to rein it in. I had the letter in my backpack, and I’d give it to her when I found the right time,