To Be the Perfect Childhood Friend - Chapter 64

“Write a diary, Anita, and read it after a year. It can be quite amusing.”

For a child, a mother’s command was quite absolute, so from that day on, Anita had to tearfully start keeping a diary. However, due to Anita’s more sensitive and emotional nature compared to her peers, her diary quickly turned into a confidant and friend, with the pen expressing the mundane stories and emotions that marked the end of each day.

Until that annoying kid from next door barged in.

Without any hesitation, Rutger invaded Anita’s room and snatched her diary.

“Give it back!”

“What are you doing? You write a diary? It’s so childish.”

For kids her age, hobbies like keeping a diary or reading books were looked down upon. Anita didn’t really care, because she didn’t want to hang out with the kids in her neighborhood who looked stupid and got into accidents.

“September 14th. Mr. Morris’s hunting dog, which he had raised, died. The dog had been enlisted for hunting quails since its youth, and now, in its old age, it retired. Perhaps lingering attachment to the hunting days it enjoyed in its prime? The dog often pointed at the birds sitting in the trees….”

“Hey!”

“He used to bark….”

“Why are you making a fuss after reading that?”

Even with Anita’s words, Rutger only sneered and didn’t bat an eye. He flipped through the diary page, apparently finding the hunting dog story boring.

“September 15th.”

Anita’s face turned pale abruptly.

“A new neighbor moved in next door. It’s Mrs. Sarah, Mom’s long-time friend, and her family.”

“Don’t read it.”

“A kid of my age also came, named Rutger Balan. That kid…”

Reading Rutger’s voice ceased abruptly. Anita no longer struggled to retrieve the diary from him. Instead, she tightly closed her eyes.

Squelch.

The sound of tearing paper abruptly awakened Anita. In front of her, Rutger, wearing a serious expression, was ripping her diary apart.

“Like this, a pathetic diary, what do you think you know about me.”

His green eyes glared coldly. Anita couldn’t say anything even as she watched her diary shredded into pieces and scattered on the floor. While Anita understood that Rutger might feel uncomfortable reading about their encounters in her diary, seeing her private thoughts torn apart left her speechless.

“Don’t ever write about me again because it’s disgusting.”

“…….”

“Answer me.”

“Yes….”

Rutger, wearing a visibly unpleasant expression, exited the room, leaving Anita to pick up the scattered pieces of paper. She sat there blankly, reassembling the torn pieces like solving a puzzle.

The carefully written characters seemed to dance like graceful worms on the paper. Seated in front of the fireplace, Anita began reading her restored diary.

September 15th. What would he like? Cricket? Or baking pies? It didn’t seem like he particularly enjoyed baking pies, but who knows. Dad always said judging people based on appearances alone is a bad thing, after all.

He probably wouldn’t like boxing, right? I saw Trey, who lives in the house number 4 across the street, shocking sight as he claimed to be learning boxing and used his younger brother as a punching bag. After witnessing that, I sprinted to his mother to tell her about it, but whenever that kid saw me, he shook his fist threateningly with a fierce look like a fierce bulldog. Well, do as you please. I will never go near the number 4 area.

The story seemed to have taken a strange turn, but anyway, what I wanted to say is that I hope Rutger doesn’t like boxing. He’s an only child without siblings, and there are no peers around his house except for me, so I might end up being a punching bag.

This seemed more like a story about the fierce bulldog Trey than Rutger. Anita briefly questioned this but quickly dismissed it.

Anita realized something that day. Other people’s stories should not be written in diaries. So, this is like a performance fee.

Creators have copyrights, and to put an actor on stage, you need to pay them.

Then, in the future, if I want to write about Rutger, should I give him something?

Anita shook her head immediately. A few days ago, she developed an interest in the kid who moved next door, but it wasn’t interesting enough to bribe him just to write about it.

The face of Rutger, who tore her diary with a look as if he had seen a disgusting worm, appeared before her, even when she closed her eyes. It was the same.

Anita threw the remaining pieces into the fireplace with a sad expression. The scraps quickly turned black and crumbled.

The next day, Anita visited the town’s largest library and ended up being caught by Sarah Baylan. Though she still felt awkward around Rutger, Mrs. Baylan was kind and cheerful, so Anita had already become somewhat friendly with her.

“Anita, bookworms are nice, but why don’t you come and have a snack and chat with me?”

“Hello, Mrs. Sarah. Thank you, but I have some books to read…”

Anita’s timid refusal seemed unheard to Sarah Baylan, who had a fiery temperament. She took a book from Anita’s hand (or rather, snatched it away) and used her other hand to push Anita in the direction of her home.

“Come on, let’s have some pie. I’m Sarah Ellen, the world’s greatest pie chef…”

Confidently shouting, Sarah paused.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, it’s nothing. Let’s go inside.”

When Anita came to her senses, she found herself sitting in the Baylan’s kitchen, holding a fork. Even a napkin was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, you’re so cute. Want to be my daughter instead?”

“…Rutger wouldn’t like that.”

“He’s like that? But he’d probably like it once he has a little sister.”

“Not me, Rutger would be the little brother. I was born in February.”

Although Anita stated it firmly, sitting on a high chair with a cute duck fork in hand, she just looked adorable to Sarah.

“Oh, really? Our Anita was born in February. You’ve grown up so much.”

Only then did Anita realize she was being teased, and her lips pouted in response.