Dear Readers,
Thank you for giving my first young adult novel a try. I promise to attempt to post continuing excerpts 2-3 times a week. I would LOVE your feedback.
Humbly Submitted, Stephanie Queen
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"You gotta help me fix up my Aunt Tammy," I said to my sometimes best friend.
"No I don't. Who the heck is your Aunt Tammy anyway? This is the first I heard of her," Sly said. Sly wasn't her real name. But it was the top vote getter when we decided she couldn't go on as Sylvia and have a life in 9th grade.
My name is Deborah. I didn't need a vote or prompting from my friends to come up with an also known as. Friends call me Debor with the emphasis on the or. Like I always have choices. Cheesy, but it drives my parents nuts, so it works. Or it had been working until the end of 8th grade. Now I'm supposed to get past this teen rebellion thing, but I seem to be stuck. According to Aunt Tammy.
Thing is, I used to like her. But now that she's staying with us for a while and helping out my mother--who probably doesn't need all that help. I mean, what about me? I could help.
Whatever.
"You'll hear of her plenty now. While you were away on your last week of the summer vacation, my Aunt Tammy the Terrible moved in with us. She's supposed to be helping. I think she needs help."
We stopped walking. This is where Sly takes the corner toward her house and I go straight. Some day very soon we'd be driving. She looked at me.
"It's good she's helping. Takes some pressure off you, right? I mean now that school's starting. So you won't have to worry about rushing home..."
"Who's worried? Me? What am I gonna hang around at school for anyway?"
She didn't say anything because I stuck out my chin and looked at her like she better not remind me.
"So why does Aunt Terrible Tammy need help?"
"She's a spinster. Of course she needs help." Some things were too obvious, even to 'such a young one as myself" as Aunt TT wold say.
"Spinster? Who says that anymore? Have you been reading those historical romances again?" She almost laughed and thought better of it.
I knew I was turning pink anyway, even if Sly didn't laugh. This is why she was my sometimes best friend.
"What-ever. She needs some guy. An old guy. I don't think she'd be too fussy. Take her mind off me. And maybe she wouldn't be so nervous all the time. It's like a dentist's office in that house. We're all on edge trying not to think of...anything. I can't wait until it's all over."
Sly looked at me. She didn't say anything and turned. She waved her hand and kept walking. I felt like I said something wrong maybe. But so what? I could say what I want. Too bad. I hitched my back pack up on my shoulder and promised myself that I'd leave the stinking pack of books home tomorrow. I was sure my mom would let me borrow her Dooney & Bourque. It's not like she was using it right now.
I tried not to think the next thoughts, but they kept right on coming into my mind. Would she ever be using her D&B bag again?
