Dawn and Sunny’s friendship is over. It seems to Dawn like she moved back to California for nothing—Sunny certainly doesn’t appreciate all that Dawn has done to help her. Dawn spends more time with Maggie and Ducky, but somehow that makes her miss Sunny more, even though she’s still angry with her.
At home, all her dad and stepmom can do is think about the new baby. Is there even room for two daughters in her parents’ lives now? Maybe she’s not needed in California anymore. When Dawn heads back to Stoneybrook for the summer, perhaps it will be for good.
This ebook features an illustrated personal history of Ann M. Martin, including rare images from the author’s collection.
Dawn: Diary Two is the 7th book in the California Diaries, which also includes Sunny: Diary Two and Maggie: Diary Two.
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Dawn: Diary Two
By Ann M. Martin
OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIACopyright © 1998 Ann M. Martin
All rights reserved.
Saturday morning 6/6
Journals are for talking about your feelings. Here's what I am feeling:
I look at what I've just written and I am amazed. None of it sounds like me. I used to be an upbeat kind of person. I tried not to show my negative feelings to the rest of the world. But I can't deny that I feel them. This is me, Dawn Schafer, right now.
I know why I'm upset. Sunny, my very best friend in the whole world, has turned into an entirely different person.
Make that my former best friend.
The only other time I have felt this terrible was when Mom and Dad were first divorced. And I had to leave California to live on the other side of the country with Mom. I hated leaving Sunny. And I missed her the whole time I lived on the East Coast.
Sunny was one of the main reasons I moved back to California. When her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer I thought Sunny would need her best friend close by. I'm glad I'm here for Mrs. Winslow, but I was totally wrong about what Sunny needed.
It's so ironic. I moved back to be close to Sunny and we aren't even speaking to each other.
Maybe Sunny and I were only best friends because we were neighbors. No, that doesn't make sense. We used to do absolutely everything together. We could finish each other's sentences. The phone would ring, and I would know it was Sunny before I picked up the receiver. I could walk into her house anytime and feel like a member of the family. Sunny could do that at our house too. Even after Dad remarried and Carol moved in with us. Another irony—Sunny gets along better with Carol than I do.
I hate that Sunny isn't acting like Sunny anymore. She's changed from this clever, considerate, always-there-for-you friend into a sneaky, inconsiderate, never-to-be- trusted-again stranger. Sunny is the last person I would have expected to change like that. Especially now, when her family is going through such a hard time. I mean, we have to face it—Mrs. Winslow is ... Well, they don't have much hope anymore that she will ever get better. Just writing that made me cry. Mrs. Winslow is wonderful, like a second mother to me. I'm a lot closer to her than I'll ever be to Carol.
What I don't understand is why Sunny is turning into some other person just when her mother and father need her the most. It's like she doesn't care about anyone but herself. She skips school, hangs out with older guys, is dressing in a different way that's very ... adult. It's like she doesn't care what people think about her. But what bothers me the most is that Sunny is not there for her mother.
Instead of visiting her mother in the hospital, she's been over at our place an awful lot, taking care of Carol because she's having a baby. I do feel sorry for Carol. The doctor ordered her to stay in bed for the last three months of her pregnancy. She can't even get up to go to the bathroom. We have to bring her a bedpan. I know it's hard on Carol, but it's also a lot of extra work for Dad and me. Even Jeff is pitching in. But we didn't expect Sunny to help out. Especially not when it meant neglecting her own sick mother. If my mother were sick I would be with her as much as possible. But I don't want to think about that possibility. It's too awful.
An ambulance just drove up our street and pulled into the Winslows' driveway. Mrs. Winslow has been getting sicker every day. So she's either going back to the hospital or ... I want to run over there to find out what's going on. I want to help. But how can I when Sunny and I aren't even talking? I'm so worried about Mrs. Winslow.
Carol just rang the little bell she uses to say she needs something. Later ...
Saturday morning continued 6/6
Mrs. Winslow has gone back to the hospital. Carol and I saw them take her out on a stretcher. Mr. Winslow was walking beside his wife. He didn't go in the ambulance but followed it in his car. He looked really sad. He had been so happy that his wife was home again. We all were. We hoped she'd be able to stay this time.
At first I thought Sunny wasn't home and that's why she wasn't with her mother. But then I spotted her peeking out from behind the blinds in the living room. I told Carol that if it were my mother I'd be in the ambulance with her. Carol said that might not be what Mrs. Winslow wanted.
"Why wouldn't she?" I asked. "Sunny is her daughter."
"Maybe she's going later." Carol patted her big belly. "I can't help remembering that my baby and I were almost taken away in an ambulance."
"Thanks to Sunny," I pointed out.
"Accidents happen," said Carol.
She has been standing up for Sunny a lot lately. What almost happened to Carol and the baby wasn't an accident. It was Sunny's fault. Plain and simple.
I know it was almost two months ago, but I can't stop thinking about it. Sunny promised she'd watch out for Carol, who was not supposed to get out of bed under any circumstances. Sunny promised Mrs. Bruen that she'd keep an eye on the pot of stew that was cooking on the stove. And what did Sunny do when a cute guy came driving up our block, blowing his horn? She ran out of the house, leaving the stew on the stove and Carol helpless in bed.
So what happened? My former best friend, Sunshine Winslow, almost burned our house down and put the lives of two people in grave danger.
And what did Sunny do about it?
Did she apologize?
Did she act like she cared?
No. She ran away. And when she finally came back, she had an attitude and made all sorts of excuses for herself. She just hung around waiting for everyone to say it was okay. Well, it wasn't okay. It isn't okay. We don't need someone like that around here.
I can't stop thinking about the fight Sunny and I had that night. I play it over and over in my head like a movie.
I came home from shopping. The house smelled smoky. Mrs. Bruen told me what had happened and that Sunny had run out.
Mrs. Bruen, who is usually so sweet-tempered and understanding, was furious with Sunny. Everybody was. I figured Sunny wouldn't come back and she certainly wouldn't continue sleeping over at our house, in my room. So I took some plastic garbage bags to my room and put all of Sunny's stuff in them and folded up her cot. Then I sat down at my desk to do my homework.
After awhile I thought I heard Sunny's voice in the house. At first I ignored it. Then I started worrying about Carol. I didn't want Sunny to upset her. So I went to Dad and Carol's room. I couldn't believe what I saw. Dad, Carol, and Mrs. Bruen were sitting around with Sunny having a friendly talk. I turned and went back to my room without saying anything. Nobody seemed to notice. I figured they were all forgiving Sunny and then she'd leave.
About an hour later I heard a gentle tap on my door. I thought it was Dad saying good night. But Sunny walked in.
"Hi," she said, like nothing had happened!
"You're still here," I said. "You're staying?"
"Yeah. Carol and your dad want me to." She put her hands on her hips. "What'd you do with all my stuff?"
"I figured you were going to do what you're always doing these days," I told her.
"And what's that?"
I reminded her that she's been running away a lot lately, ducking out, avoiding anything unpleasant. I tried to help her face the fact that she's letting down her mother, her father, her friends, and herself.
But did that get me anywhere with her?
We ended up yelling at each other. She had the nerve to accuse me of not caring about my stepmother. Who is she to talk to me about how to take care of a parent? I reminded her that I visit her mother more than she does.
Her answer to that? "I visit her more than you know."
"I know all the times you visit her," I replied, "because you complain about every last one." Then Sunny said at least I had a mom, that I had two of them.
I reminded her that she has a mother too. Maybe it's time for her to appreciate the mother she has.
Sunny didn't say anything for a few seconds. I hoped she was finally seeing how terrible she'd been acting lately. I hoped we could start from there and make up. Instead, she turned and ran out of my room and the house.
Yes, Sunny running away again.
I couldn't sleep that night. I wanted to talk over what was happening between Sunny and me. I still wanted to help her.
I called her house the next day and left a message on the answering machine. Around dinnertime I saw her go into her house. But she didn't call me. I kept thinking:
Her mother is very sick.
I don't know how awful Sunny must feel.
She needs her friends.
I should be patient, understanding, and forgiving.
I left her another message: "Sunny, it's Dawn, please call me."
I told Maggie about what happened, but she acted like it was just one of those fights friends get into. "It'll pass," she said.
"Maggie, please tell her I want to talk to her," I pleaded.
I still can't believe what Sunny said when Maggie told her I wanted to talk. "If Dawn wants to be friends, all it takes is an apology, a large diamond necklace, a new navel ring, and three years of personal servitude." Like it's a big joke. Ha-ha! Seven years of friendship ending in a lame joke.
Meanwhile, I just heard loud punk music from a car radio outside. I can see an old yellow convertible driving up our block. I think I recognize the guy who's driving and the couple in the backseat. They're upperclassmen from Vista.
The driver is honking his horn.
Now Sunny is coming out on Rollerblades. She's wearing tight short shorts and a halter top that shows her navel ring. She's laughing and waving.
The girl and two guys are shouting hi to her. They think it's really cool that she already has on her blades.
Sunny climbs into the car without opening the door. Then she gives the driver a big kiss and he peels away from the curb.
This is what my former best friend is doing less than half an hour after her terminally ill mother went to the hospital in an ambulance.
I hate being so angry at Sunny. I hate it.
But really, it's all her fault.
Saturday noon 6/6
Maggie phoned. I've known her even longer than I've known Sunny, but somehow we're just not as close. It used to be so much fun when the four of us hung out together. Sunny, Maggie, Jill, and me.
But Jill's been out of the picture so long that I can barely remember what the picture used to look like. She's so childish. I still can't believe that she gave away the secret of Carol's pregnancy. She just blurted it out like a little kid. I'm still mad about that. But really, it goes even deeper. I see Jill in the halls and we just don't connect. She's off in her own little world, and I'm stuck here in the real world.
I'm going to the beach tomorrow with Maggie, Amalia (who's really more Maggie's friend than mine), and some of their friends from their band.
I love the beach.
I love to surf.
It'll be a great change of scene.
Who knows? Maybe Maggie and I will become closer. It's worth a try.
There's Carol's bell again. I told her I'd make her a snack and give her a back rub. It must be awful to not be able to get out of bed. The baby will be her reward. I can't help but wonder: what will Mrs. Winslow's reward be?
Sunday afternoon 6/7
Here I am at the beach. I'm writing this on a big rock that juts out into the ocean. I love it here, even when I'm upset. As the waves crash on the sand and retreat, I try to visualize them taking away my bad thoughts and cleansing my spirit.
Maggie and Amalia are sitting on the beach with Rico, Patti, and Bruce. Rico is strumming a guitar. Patti and Bruce are softly tapping out a beat on the cooler. Maggie is singing. She has a beautiful voice and writes the best lyrics. It's cool that she's started to share them with us.
I'm glad I came to the beach today, but I might as well have come alone. I don't feel like part of this crowd.
Earlier, I asked Maggie to go for a walk with me on the beach. She said yes. But I saw her look back at the others as she stood up, like she really didn't want to leave.
I told Maggie she didn't have to come if she didn't want to. Maggie insisted she wanted to walk with me. She picked up her towel and wrapped it around her waist. "I have to cover up my flab," she whispered.
Flab? Excuse me, but what is she talking about? Maggie is slender with a capital S.
So, as we started our walk, I told her she didn't have any flab. She argued with me about it. That conversation ended with my saying, "Whatever." Then I asked if she'd talked to Sunny lately.
"Not really," she answered. "Friendships change. It happens."
I didn't agree. I wanted to say that the friendship I had with Sunny was deeper than with anyone else in our group. But I realized that might make Maggie feel a little weird, since she was one of our group too.
"Listen," Maggie said, "Rico's playing his guitar. Let's go back."
End of conversation.
I sat on the edge of the blanket and listened to them play for awhile, but I just felt more and more alone. So I went for a long swim and now I'm writing this.
I hope Maggie and her new friends don't want to stay at the beach too late—I promised Dad I'd help make dinner tonight.
Sunday night 6/7
Dad made pasta primavera for dinner, and I made a salad and baked some oatmeal-raisin cookies. I can't talk to him about Sunny. I can't talk to him about much of anything these days, unless it has to do with Carol and the baby.
He'll ask me the usual parent questions like: "How's school?" "Where are you going tonight?" "Did you have a good time at the beach?" "How high were the waves?"
But I don't think he's really listening when I answer. I know he's always thinking about Carol and the baby. Which is only natural. Carol and the baby are his new family. Jeff and I are his old family. And his new family is what's most important to him right now. (Anyway, that's how it feels sometimes.)
We took trays to the bedroom so we could eat with Carol. She sits up in her bed and we sit around her. Carol's big belly is like a centerpiece. The baby is due any day now. Dad oohs and ahhs and is always putting his hand on Carol's stomach to feel the baby. Jeff is fascinated. He loves to watch the baby move. He calls it "The Pod," like it's a character in a sci-fi movie.
Jeff is pretty excited about having a half brother or sister. He seems to genuinely like Carol too. Maybe that's because Jeff is still a child and Carol can act pretty juvenile herself. That sounds mean, but it's true. I guess Carol is basically an okay person. I might even like her if she were someone else's stepmother. But she's my stepmother. Besides, I already have a mother.
Sometimes I feel guilty about not being excited about the baby. I try to show a little enthusiasm, but with all the other things I have on my mind it's not easy. And I don't want to fake it. I hate when people pretend they're happy about something and you can tell they really aren't.
If I felt closer to Carol maybe I'd be more excited about her baby. Maybe not. I mean, it'll only be my half brother or sister. I'll barely get to know it. By the time it's five years old I'll be in college and then I'll probably never live at home again.
Carol wanted to know about the beach and who was there. She misses the ocean and can't wait to get back to surfing. She patted her belly. "We'll be surfing before you know it, Emerson."
"Emerson!" my father said in alarm. "Now, that's a new one."
Carol giggled and said she was just trying a new name on us. Then Dad, Carol, and Jeff were off, talking about their favorite subject—what to name the baby.
Carol suggested we start with the A's and say every name that we liked. Jeff said we should do boys' names first. He's convinced Carol is going to have a boy. She wanted me to be the secretary for this session of the Name Game, but I gave the honor to Jeff. I said I'd clear the dishes and get our dessert. I was pretty bored with the Name Game.
Now, here's something that surprises me. Dad and Carol have had plenty of opportunities to find out the sex of this baby. The pregnancy has been difficult, so Carol had a zillion tests. The doctors and nurses know whether it's a girl or a boy. But Carol doesn't want to know.
"I like the suspense," she always says. "It'll be a nice surprise in the delivery room."
I think Dad would like to know whether he's having a son or a daughter, but he's doing whatever Carol wants. The only reason I wish they'd find out is because it would cut the time they spend on the Name Game in half. I don't really care what they name it. It's more their baby than my sister or brother.
So while my father, brother, and Carol played the Name Game, I brought the dishes to the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher, made coffee for my dad and herbal tea for Carol, poured glasses of milk for Jeff and me, laid the cookies on a plate, put everything on a tray, and went back to the bedroom. I could hear Jeff clowning around about the name Attila, and Dad and Carol laughing.
"Jeff," said Carol with a sigh, "I'd be so happy if I had a boy just like you."
"Being a prisoner in this bed isn't so terrible with visitors like you guys," added Carol.
Right, I thought, and servants like me.
Excerpted from Dawn: Diary Two by Ann M. Martin. Copyright © 1998 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
ContentsSaturday morning 6/6,
Saturday morning continued 6/6,
Saturday noon 6/6,
Sunday afternoon 6/7,
Sunday night 6/7,
Monday afternoon 6/8,
Monday night 6/8,
Thursday night 6/11,
Friday afternoon 6/12,
Friday night 6/12,
Noon on Saturday 6/13,
At Maggie's after the concert 6/13,
Wednesday evening 6/17,
11 p.m. 6/17,
Friday morning 6/19,
Friday evening 6/19,
Later Friday 6/19,
Saturday evening 6/20,
Preview: Maggie: Diary Two,
A Personal History by Ann M. Martin,
this book was full of suprises and really good discription. I had fun reading the book. Imagining Jill and sunny´s eye rolling was a fun mix into the story. after the party letting out with friendships breaking up and a new one arising and with carol being pregnant and all was just like wanting to never put the book down.
this book was very good and it was kind of cool to hear dawns side after I just read suuny's book and hearing her side. it had it happy parts funny parts and sad parts.
I loved the book i was going to New Jersey from New York and i finished it on the way becasue i couldn't take my head out of the book. I leant the book to one of my best friends Danielle and she LOVES them too!
This book series is the best!It talks about teenagers and their problems. I love it!
I love this book series! It is great! You get a chance to see what other kids are going through! I recommend this to any young teen boy or girl its great!
It would be a good book for early teens. I shows lifeways and the changes many kids go through. I would recomend this book.