“I'm dying.”
Terrence eyed me from the seat across mine. He put down the science book he was reading and frowned, his blue eyes turning into slits. Then he returned to his same old cocky expression when he realized what I meant.
“It's your fault you jumped into the lake,” The school nurse replied, turning back to his thick book and flipping another page over. “You should have expected to catch a cold in this kind of weather.”
“Stop lecturing me,” I snapped, my gray eyes looking back to my father's diary entitled as “Sam's Fourteenth Year.” I had read through ages six to thirteen already, was already somewhere in the middle of the Fourteenth Year. I had read all of them, except “Sam’s Twelfth Year” which fell into the lake with me.
The year I was twelve.
The year I had learned so many
