I never really gave up on;; Paul

[swivelcanines]

Fuck.

English class fucking sucks.

Why I am doing this again?

Okay.

So for fucking English class I have to keep a…journal thing. This is it. If you’re Jared and you’re reading this, it’s for English class, you ass ignorant moron.

The point of this is to express my feelings. I thought I was doing that alright in the first place but I guess not, since I got this god damn assignment. Wonderful.

Mostly I’m…tired. I haven’t slept in awhile and it’s really starting to get to me. I’d pop some stuff to help me but it doesn’t help when you’re a fucking werewolf growing boy. Or whatever. That’s my mom’s excuse for everything. “You’re a growing boy.” Right.

I just need some time off. I haven’t been over at Emily’s for forever. I think I upset her when I’m there. Actually, I think I upset everyone when I’m there. So going there doesn’t seem like a good idea.

I’ve got a lot of other stuff going on right now, too, but it’s nothing that won’t pass over soon enough. I hope. I doubt it.

In short: everything is really shitty right now, but hasn’t it always been?

Thank God there's only two more weeks of school...no offense, Mrs. Clarkson.

- Paul

P.s. This isn’t a fucking diary, okay?!

[Antigone Crow]

Rehearsing lines was a bitch. And so for once (and probably only once), Annie made an appearance at Paul's house. While she waited for him in his room, she found a notebook on his nightstand. Further investigation proved it to be a diary. She promptly pulled a magenta gel pen from her purse, and wrote a quick little message in her big, loopy handwriting:

Paul, first and foremost, nice cross outs. You may want to try scratching the words out a little more--I can still read them!
Anyway. Onto more important things.
YOU HAVE A DIARY. Aha, this made my day! And yes, Paul dearest, it is a diary--it is a notebook you're spilling your innermost thoughts to, and thus, a diary.
The first step towards acceptance is denial, Paulie. You'll get there eventually.

Xo,
Annie.

She smiled a little to herself and quickly closed the notebook and put it back where it was.
She was innocent, damnit.

[maria]

Leah had came to drop off some cookies for Paul. Emily had sent her there with a whole tin of peanut butter cookies. Said they were his favorite. And something about how the tin would end up just being a snack. She had set them on Paul's bedside table, before noticing a notebook on the table. She flipped through it with a giggle, before rummaging for a pen.

Morning Paul

Emily made cookies, for the man with the diary. They're peanut butter.
Did you know that this is a diary, Paul. Yep, that's right a diary, so you know, it should start, 'Dear Diary' ... 'Cos it's a diary So, yeah, back to the cookies. Hope you like 'em. Em was gonna come over, but she sent me instead. Good luck with the diary

love Leah

She placed the diary back, and put the pen on top before exiting the room, again with a giggle.

[swivelcanines]

Paul let out a growl as he flipped through the pages Leah and Annie had so carelessly scribbled on. Nearly breaking his own pen in his shaking hands, he wrote a new entry.

Dear Diary,

I really fucking hate Leah and New Chick.

- Paul

[Antigone Crow]

Annie had, sadly, found herself at Paul's again. He seemed to hate poor Oedipus, so it was safer to rehearse there.
She casually flipped through his diary, she giggled at his newest entry. She pulled out a lime-green gel pen this time, and wrote again.


Paulie!
I have a name, okay? It's Annie. Or Antigone, if you'd like. I hate my real name, but hey, whatever floats your boat.
And I know you don't hate me! Deep down, you love me! You love me so much it's driving you crazy.
No, seriously though. You don't hate me. Admit it!

Xo,
Annie

She put the diary away again, snickering to herself.

[maria]

When Leah returned to collect the cookie tin and drop of more (Emily didn't think it was fair to deprive Paul of baked goods) She couldn't resist checking the diary. Somehow, another pen made it into her hand.

Tut, tut, tut. Bad Paul. You know that you love me. Em wanted me to give you these muffins, since I seem to be Errand Girl, but since you hate me, I think I might as well give them to Jakey Boy.

Love Leah

PS
I'm glad you admitted it is a diary

She left without remembering to collect the tin, but she didn't leave the muffins.

[swivelcanines]

Photos

Paul sat on the edge of his bed, flipping through the random photographs his mom had just had developed. Mrs. Clarkson also wanted some photos with the journal, and his mom, who was still intent on him going to college, had thought taking some would be helpful. Now it was just his job to caption them.


Me in my room.


Emily's making me dress up for the engagement party. Ugh.


Phasing really does a number on my shirt supply.


Me and my....Embry.


What do you mean 'I smell like pot'? Mom?!


Never eating Leah's cookies ever. again.


Out in the yard, trying to escape mom. That worked well.


Idk, my bff Leah?


Who's that good-looking wolf? =D


Paul nodded, content with his collection. Still, there was something missing...then he remembered the picture Kate had showed him that he had happily snatched from the kitchen counter. Snickering quietly to himself, he added it in.


And of course my two least favorite people on Earth:

How adorable, they play with dolls!

[swivelcanines]

After the incredibly (but well-ended) disastrous meeting with Embry over his...journal, whatever, Paul knew it would never be safe to write what he really wanted to. Which sucked because, if he couldn't do that, what was the point?

Dear ~diary~ (I hope you both are fucking happy)

Apparently things did pass over..I don't think they'll always stay this way but it's good. For now.

I think I saw a dream dictionary thing in Annie's room - I'll have to take a look at it. My dreams are five ways to fucked up right about now and it doesn't seem like it gonna change anytime soon.

Anyways, Leah, I know you're reading this. Give me my damn cookies or face my wrath.

- Paul

[Antigone Crow]

Once again, in Paul's room. Once again, in his diary. Annie absently flipped open to the latest entry and read it quickly, reaching for the pen on his nightstand and wrote a quick response.

Paul-
..You know, you couldn't pick one of them where I looked normal. No, of course not. Ugh. Damn you. Mind if I actually exchange that picture for a different one? We're both still playing with dolls, but I like my expression better in that one.

Anyway. I'm glad you finally admitted this is a diary--it's good para tu! And you have to admit it's helpful. Getting out your feelings is something that usually helps, y'know.

Feel free to borrow the dream dictionary anytime you'd like--I pretty much have the thing memorized. I've had it for years, after all. If you think it'll help, just snatch it next time you're over. I'll know where it is.

And next time I make cupcakes, if you're being nice, you'll get some. Bueno? Bueno.

Love&Lollipops,
Annie

She looked over the entry quickly and nodded, dropping the journal on his bed before leaving.

[maria]

After deciding she was not going to murder Paul over her picture she had once again came over to drop off cookies. She was being little miss Sunshine, after all... It seemed she never came over without cookies, or some other baked good.

Dear Paul

You made my day. I shall cherish the fact that you wrote 'dear diary' for the rest of my life. And you'd better be happy about the deal we made, or you wouldn't get any cookies. Glad things are alright with Embry now. And what wrath? By the way, rainbows and sunshine and happiness really doesn't suit me.
-Love Leah

PS: You'll get the rest when you apologize.

She put the diary on his bed and placed a single cookie on top with a giggle.

[swivelcanines]

It had been a pretty horrible day, and also a very amazing day, and if he had not experienced it himself first hand, he wouldn't have believed that hate like that and love like that could have followed eachother. Maybe that was why Embry was so amazing to him; for all that Paul was angry and wrath, Embry was soothing and calm.

Either way, he actually felt the need to write in his journal. How fucking weird was that? Hoping it wasn't going to become a habit, he took it out and rest the pen against his lip, thinking, before writing.

Dear,...fuck it.

He closed it again and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, letting out a deep breathe. He felt so helpless, for so many reasons. On one hand he loved Embry, and while he didn't need to spend every moment with him to be happy, whenever he was with him it was amazing. On the other hand he knew the things that that fucktard had said would become regular terms to describe him. He wasn't sure if he could handle that, and he knew for sure he didn't want Embry exposed to it. Hadn't his friend...boyfriend...been through enough, been put through the gossip mill enough? But Embry insisted quite regularly that he wanted to be with Paul...

It didn't matter for right now because if his repuation wasn't enough to scare off anyone who thought it was okay to say these things to Embry, then what he had done to Matt would. Good. Paul had no regrets for what he had done, hell, he'd do it again.

Deciding to keep it simple, he responded only to Annie and Leah's entries, narrowing his eyes a little as he read them.

No. The picture stays, Annie. But you can try and bribe me with some cookies. He was a cookie whore, but cookies were just too damn good to not try to get. Even if it meant switching that hilarious picture with another.

Leah - I'm going to let go of your comments because of the cookie. It was fucking delicious by the way. Emily made it, right? He grinned wickedly as he wrote that. Anyways, I hear Seth has a diary. If ever you feel like reading it aloud let me get in on it. I'm not too proud to beg.

-Paul