Novel & Cerita What Do You Want The Notebook

He was watching them too. Then he looked at me. I looked back at my notebook. Very normal. Very fine. "You always carry that thing everywhere?" he asked. I looked up. He was still looking at me. "The notebook?" He nodded once. "Pretty much," I said. "What do you write in it?" I blinked. That wasn't a question I expected. "Notes," I said carefully. "For class mostly. And sometimes other things." "Like what?" "Just… thoughts." He looked at the notebook for a second.

The woman who got it. She reached into her bag. She pulled out a notebook of her own. It was blank. The pages smelled new. She opened it. She looked at the first page for a while. The white space stared back. Clean. Empty. Ready. She held the pen in her hand. The plastic felt smooth between her fingers. She clicked it once. The sound was small in the plane noise. Then she wrote: "Things I want. There are not things I want to take."

I nodded encouragement, curious myself about what Alex had chosen. She took the bag cautiously, as if it might contain something dangerous. Peering inside, her eyes widened. "Wow." "What is it, Em?" I asked, moving closer. She pulled out three books – beautifully illustrated hardcovers about space exploration, female scientists, and a novel featuring a young girl inventor. They were exactly the kind of books she loved, just like her had gotten her yesterday. "These are... really cool," she admitted reluctantly, examining the covers. "I wanted to read this one, but the library doesn't have it yet."

However, the difference in their height was too great as he was able to block her with one hand and use the other to flip open the notebook. Her eyes widened, and she gave up trying to take it back the moment he flipped it open, as he would have already seen everything. There was a subtle change in his expression, and he glanced at her briefly. She lowered her head in embarrassment. "I want to fly a kite," he plainly read from the notebook. His calm tone was magnetic and didn't give away any emotion. It made her want to crawl into a hole in the ground. "I want to visit the tulip field. I want an obedient Golden Retriever. I also want to go on a hot air balloon ride…"

Thе nail fіlе іѕ tiny, аnd has a рlаѕtіс tоrtоіѕе ѕhеll hаndlе. Thеѕе things аrеn’t еvеn ѕlіghtlу іmрrеѕѕіvе to me аt first glаnсе. I’m looking for wеароnѕ, and wауѕ to escape. But I сhаngе mу mind whеn I ѕее the pages of thе first half of thе notebook are fіllеd wіth flоwеrу, cursive ѕсrірt.

I guess I could get a good enough view of her there… Oh gosh, Anya, that’s so gross. I just shake off the thought and decide to unroll the bag. As I do so, I stumble upon something. I look below me and near my right knee is Sadie’s notebook, slightly ajar. I took them and lay them on the side so I could straighten the sleeping bag. After that, I went back to my place, taking the notebook with me. It is a medium-sized hardbound notebook. It is coated in black but there are a few statements written in what seems like a cut-out white paper taped on the hardbound. Some words have exclamation points, question marks, swear words written in all uppercase, and other words like Shh!, Quiet! It’s Not

What else can I wish for? He remembered the journal he found earlier that day, took it from his basket, and stared at it for quite a while. He thought to himself, “What if I’m invading this owner’s privacy?” He decided to look at the remaining pages of the notebook. He sat on the chair comfortably. “I’ll just check it out to find who the owner is and return this to her, or make use of the remaining empty pages,” he whispered to himself.

Jaxen Being somewhere new means one thing; I'd have to start observing and planning my life again. This is actually a very interesting thing for me to do but the circumstances are nothing close to interesting. I had a notebook open on the table in front of me. This one was a bit different from other notebooks I'd seen. It was Hazel’s old one that she used for grocery lists and random ideas she never finished. Half the pages had things like buy milk, call mom, try yoga again (maybe) written on them.

"Since Luke dislikes you giving me things, I don't think there's any need to spend money on me anymore!" With that said, he slammed the door shut. Back home, Rachel's face was frighteningly sullen. "Are you satisfied now? You're even fighting over a computer. When did you become so materialistic?" I ignored her and turned on the computer. Once connected to the internet, I would be able to obtain more business opportunities. Seeing that I was ignoring her, Rachel became even angrier and got up to block the screen. "I'm warning you. Since you've taken the computer, you have to give up the workshop opportunity to Logan!"

I barely remembered locking the office, let alone where I shoved the notebook before leaving. My fingers trail over the desk meeting nothing, I kneel to check the lower cabinet, still nothing, the bookshelf is next. One by one, I pull books from the shelves, dust floating lazily through the afternoon sunlight, I check behind every row before replacing them, still nothing. My heartbeat quickens, that notebook isn't something I can afford to lose ‘cause anyone who found it would think it was just another collection of scribbled observations. It isn't. It contains fragments of everything people desperately want buried, I always knew everyone saw me as the fool.