Pippa Morgan’s Diary Read online

  Text copyright © 2014 by Hothouse Fiction Limited

  Illustration copyright © 2014 by Kate Larsen

  Cover and internal design © 2015 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Jeanine Henderson

  Illustrations by Kate Larsen

  Additional illustrations by Jeanine Henderson

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

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  First published in Great Britain by Scholastic Ltd.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data in on file with the publisher.

  Source of Production: Worzalla, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, USA

  Date of Production: October 2015

  Run Number: 5004939

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Copyright

  Title Page

  All About Me

  Sunday

  Good Things About Rachel Moving To Scotland

  Monday

  List of Funny Names

  Recess

  Later

  Things I DON’T like beginning with J

  Laterer

  Wednesday

  Dad’s Dinners I Miss Most

  Excuses for Not Singing

  Later

  Thursday

  Before dinner

  Friday

  Friday—midnight

  People Angry With Pippa

  Sunday night

  Monday

  Tuesday

  Later

  Wednesday

  Lunchtime

  Friday

  Later

  Top ten reasons why Catie and I are BFFs

  YOLO by Tiffany J

  Pippa Morgan’s Sleepover Essentials

  Back Cover

  ALL ABOUT ME

  Name: Pippa Jane Saturday Rachel Morgan

  (My parents only gave me the middle name Jane, but I added the other two because I think it’s really unfair that we don’t get to choose our own names. I mean, we’re the ones who have to have them for our ENTIRE LIVES! I chose Saturday because it’s my favorite day of the week and Rachel because that’s the name of my BFF.)

  Age: 10 (which is really cool because ten is my favorite number in the whole world—apart from infinity—but I don’t think I’ll ever get to age infinity!)

  Height: Half a forehead taller than the hallway shelf. (I know this because I accidentally walked into the hallway shelf last week and it made a bruise right in the middle of my forehead. I didn’t mind though because the bruise looked a little like the Batman symbol.)

  Favorite Color: Indigo (I’m not exactly sure what color indigo is—it just sounds really cool. Try saying it out loud and see: IN-DI-GO!)

  Favorite Animal: I love all animals, so it’s really hard to choose just one. If I had to pick, it would be a bunny-dog (that’s actually my two favorite animals in one).

  Favorite Pop Star: Tiffany J!!!

  Favorite Song: “YOLO” by Tiffany J.

  Favorite Food: Chicken nuggets and Dad’s homemade pizza.

  When I grow up I want to be: An acrobatic dancer. Or a spy. Or maybe I could be an acrobatic dancer who spies? I could spy on all the people in the audience at my shows.

  *swallows back tears* Yesterday, at 11:32 a.m., my best friend of all time, Rachel Adams, moved to the other end of the world.

  Have you ever lost your best friend? Well, don’t. It’s the WORST.

  Mom gave me this diary.

  She said writing stuff down would “help me process my feelings of loss.”

  ???

  Writing stuff down is basically homework, but here goes…

  Sunday

  I can still smell the stink of the moving van. Rachel and I just hugged and cried as they loaded her stuff on. Then I watched like a big-eyed kid who’d just lost her puppy while Rachel waved out of the window of her parents’ car.

  I will NEVER forgive Rachel’s parents—I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THEY DECIDED THAT RACHEL SHOULD LIVE IN SCOTLAND INSTEAD OF THREE DOORS AWAY FROM ME!

  Scotland is, like, a gazillion miles away.

  Rachel said Nothing Would Change Really. *rolls eyes* She said, We’ll still be best friends even though I’m so far away. I love Rachel but sometimes she can be one fry short of a Happy Meal.

  Of course we’ll be best friends. But it’s not the same. I can only talk to her on the phone. I don’t get to see her every day.

  We can NEVER AGAIN dress up in my dad’s extra-high-visibility cycling gear and go and stand under the fluorescent lights in the supermarket and see how many shoppers we can dazzle. The frozen-food section was best because the freezers had this cold blue glow that turned us practically luminous. We’d offer to help shoppers reach for fish sticks or ice cream and try not to giggle when they’d half-close their eyes like they were staring into the sun.

  We loved dressing up. Last summer, we pretended we were characters from The Lady of Morpeth Abbey—which was our favorite TV show EVER. It was soooo romantic and all the characters wore beautiful old-fashioned clothes. Rachel and I raided every thrift store in town until we’d made the BEST costumes. Rachel dressed as Mr. Hunderbentleman (buckle-y shoes and a frilly shirt and a big hat and everything) and I wore ten big skirts on top of each other and put my hair in a bun so I looked like Lady Monteith, and we spent the whole day talking like our characters.

  RACHEL: Lady Monteith, may I bring you something from my morning stroll as a token of my admiration?

  ME: I would be eternally grateful if you brought me a dozen roses, Mr. Hunderbentleman, for my pretty nose needs something delicate to smell.

  RACHEL: (giggling) My dear lady! Why don’t you stroll with me and we may smell the roses together?

  ME: Oh, Mr. Hunderbentleman! I am so lucky to know such a kind gentleman as you.

  And we did it ALL day. Mom and Dad thought it was really funny (Mom and Dad were still married then) and it was the best day ever. Then Mom told us to go and get changed because my big skirts kept sweeping things off her knickknack shelf and Rachel had to go home for dinner.

  I wonder what Rachel’s having for dinner tonight? I could have the same thing and it’d be like we were having dinner together like we used to when Rachel’s mom went to yoga.

  But I can’t even text her to ask because she’s living on the side of a mountain in the middle of NOWHERE.

  Apparently, there are more sheep than cell phones where she lives now.

  This is the first time I haven’t seen Rachel for a whole day since, like, FOREVER.

  But Mom always tells me to look for the good things in stuff that happens, so here goes.

  Good Things About Rachel Moving To Scotland

  1. Rachel will be able to make lots of new friends (sob).

  2
. Rachel might get a Scottish accent and then she can become an actor like she’s always wanted (you have to be able to do accents to be an actor).

  3. We can write each other actual real letters just like Lady Monteith and her sister, Georgina, which will be really cute.

  4. Without Rachel, I’ll have lots of extra time to spend on homework so I can become a genius and invent a way for cell phones to text anywhere.

  I guess I can visit Rachel. Dad asked me where I wanted to go on vacation next year. Why not Scotland? There aren’t many good things about your parents getting divorced, but one of them is that you get TWO summer vacations.

  Tiffany J’s parents are divorced too. That practically makes us soul-twins. Tiffany’s watching me now, from a poster on my bedroom wall. It feels like she can really see me and knows what I’m going through.

  Tiffany J is my favorite person in the whole world (apart from Rachel). In the poster she looks like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin with a floaty headscarf and curly shoes. She is soooo pretty! Who else could look cool on a camel?

  She’s also the greatest pop star ever. She won the Voice Factor last year and since then she’s had a billion hits and traveled around the world more times than I’ve been to school. She’s only three years older than me. But she owns, like, fifteen mansions and has a driver to take her anywhere she wants. I bet she has her own pilot too. She must have hundreds of best friends and if any of them moved to the other end of the country, she’d have a zillion new ones lining up along her driveway.

  I am SO going to be like Tiffany J.

  Imagine if I’d auditioned for this year’s Voice Factor. I can picture it now. The judges are sitting behind their big neon desk. Steven Fowl is watching me walk onstage. He has that look like he’s thinking, Yeah, well she’s only ten, how good can she be?, and then I start singing. And my voice is FANTASTIC—even better than Tiffany J’s—and when I start my dance, his face lights up like someone’s plugged him into a wall socket.

  Karen Eastbourne’s sitting next to him and her eyes are as wide as an owl’s. Then the audience starts cheering me. And standing on their feet. No—they’re standing on their chairs they’re so excited. No one can believe I’m that good! All the judges are AMAZED. Cheyenne stands ON THE DESK and starts clapping. Huey Brown is pinned back in his chair like he’s been hit by a wave.

  I wish I could make this happen for real! My life would be perfect!

  Monday

  I’m writing this entry in secret. I have to keep my diary under my desk on my lap so Mr. Bacon can’t see. I’ve decided this diary might be a good idea after all. I don’t know if it’s helping me to “process my feelings,” but now that I don’t have Rachel to talk to, my diary is like my new best friend.

  Mr. Bacon is teaching us geography. (YAWN.)

  He’s telling us how mountains are made. Why? No one’s ever going to make one. Where would they put it?

  It’s horrible being at school without Rachel. Darren’s sitting next to me instead. There’s playground dirt under the desk from his soccer feet and he smells like cornflakes. I’m trying to ignore him, but he keeps sniffing.

  Mr. Bacon is drawing a volcano on the whiteboard, firing burning rocks into the air. I hope that the mountain near Rachel’s house isn’t a volcano. I’d better write to her and warn her to check there’s nothing coming out of the top.

  I wonder if Mr. Bacon is married. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring. I guess it’s hard finding someone who wants to become Mrs. Bacon. It’s not exactly a normal name. Unless she has a worse name, like Miss Sandwich. That would be terrific! Their kids would be Bacon-Sandwiches!

  List of Funny Names

  Chris P. Bacon

  Russell Sprout

  Justin Time

  Stan Still

  Hazel Nut

  Rob Banks

  Jed I Knight

  Neil—

  Recess

  I’m back. I couldn’t finish my list. Mr. Bacon stopped drawing volcanoes and started talking about eco-energy. He decided that I should show the class how a wind turbine works. I had to stand up. Everyone started laughing while I helicoptered my arms. It was really funny until I accidentally smacked Darren in the face. He was okay and his nose didn’t actually bleed. But, even though I said sorry, he asked Mr. Bacon if he could sit somewhere else. Mr. Bacon said yes and let him move to Tom’s table.

  I don’t know what’s worse—the smell of Darren’s cornflakes and soccer dirt or sitting by myself.

  They’re all on the playground now. I’m the only kid left in the classroom. Now Rachel’s gone, there’s no one to play with, so I asked Mr. Bacon if I could stay inside and write in my diary. He said I could so long as I was quiet while he straightened up the book cupboard. So I’m pretending I’m a spy, like the ones I watched on Spies Next Door last night. Mr. Bacon is an enemy agent, searching the classroom for state secrets. I’m hunching low to my desk and breathing as quietly as I can. I’ve made a note of the books he’s stored close to the front of the cupboard. They’re called Exploring Japan. I’m guessing that’s going to be our new topic once we’ve finished learning how to build mountains.

  Guess what? Mr. Bacon just told me that after break he’s going to ask Catie Brown to sit next to me!!!!

  Catie Brown is the most popular girl in our grade. Everyone wants to hang out with her. She has an actual SCHEDULE for who gets to sit next to her at lunch.

  I hope she likes me.

  I’ve got butterflies in my stomach.

  Later

  I think Catie might actually like me.

  At first she wouldn’t look at me. She just sat down and stared longingly at Julie Johnson’s table. So I tried doing crazy doodles in my notebook so she’d think I was funny. I drew a talking carrot. And a cat in a space helmet. But she didn’t even look at them.

  When Mr. Bacon told us to color in our pictures of Henry VIII, I told Catie where I lived and about my hamster who died and all my favorite TV shows. But she didn’t answer, only grunted and colored her picture in. Then Freya, who was sitting at the table behind us, leaned over. She whispered to Catie that she had seen the line for the Voice Factor auditions in town.

  I saw Catie’s eyes light up and I knew straight away—she likes the Voice Factor!

  “I auditioned for it.” The words rushed out before I could stop them.

  Catie looked at me like I’d appeared out of nowhere. “Really?” Her eyes were wide and she was staring at me. “You had a real audition?”

  I nodded. My face felt bright red but I couldn’t stop. I had her attention. So I told her everything, just like I’d imagined it last night. How the judges were blown away and the audience cheered.

  And she believed me. Her eyes were popping out of her head, and then she said the magic words.

  “You have to sit next to me at lunchtime and tell me all about it.”

  Lunch was SO scary. The twins, Julie and Jennifer Johnson, sat at our table. My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. My mind was spinning as Catie sat down next to me and started unpacking her lunch. I was desperately trying to think up brilliant details to add to my audition story. But the twins kept giggling and started listing all the things they loved that began with the letter J.

  Juice.

  Jenga.

  I was trying SO HARD to picture what Karen Eastbourne had been wearing in my daydream.

  Jewelry.

  Jeans.

  Jelly.

  What had Cheyenne’s hair looked like?

  Journals.

  Jam.

  Jet ski.

  HOW was I supposed to concentrate on my story while Julie and Jennifer kept going on about J words?

  Things I DON’T like beginning with J

  Julie

  Jennifer

  Johnsons

  Then Catie asked me about
the audition. “Tell me EVERYTHING.”

  So I started. “Karen Eastbourne was wearing jelly and Cheyenne’s hair was like a journal.”

  I KNEW I’d get mixed up!

  Catie started frowning and I thought, she must know that I’m making it up.

  So I took a really deep breath and started to list as many random facts from my daydream as I could:

  • The audience stood on their chairs.

  • Steven Fowl was amazed.

  • Cheyenne leapt off the desk and shook my hand when I finished.

  • Afterward, people crowded around me and begged for my autograph.

  My brain started to ache so I took a bite of my sandwich.

  Catie offered me one of her chips. She was all “Wow” and “That’s amazing.”

  I got a wormy feeling in my stomach. I hated lying to her. But it was better than sitting by myself.

  Then she said, “I wish exciting things happened to me.” And I felt like the biggest liar in the world. If Catie knew the truth she wouldn’t want to talk to me. So I said something that was sort of true. “I just wish Rachel had been with me.”

  And Catie said, “Rachel was your best friend, right? You must miss her.”

  I was relieved that I could be honest about that. I told Catie that I missed Rachel SO MUCH. And Catie told me that when she moved up to elementary school, her best friend had gone to a different school and she’d cried every day for a week.

  Isn’t that tragic?

  We’re practically twins (but not boring ones like Julie + Jennifer).

  Mr. Bacon must have noticed because after lunch he paired me and Catie up for our class project. We’ve got to do a presentation on what it’s like to be a ten-year-old girl in Japan. (I am SUCH a great spy! I knew we’d be doing Japan when I saw Mr. Bacon move the Exploring Japan books to the front of the cupboard during recess.) Catie grinned at me as he read out our names, and I felt happy for the first time in days.