July 8th*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Hello Everyone!

My goodness, it feels soo good to write to all of you!

Hello to Miss Andrea, if she found the time out of her waxing duties to vist my site! [=

I’ve had such a busy life lately, that I’ve forgotten to update this site!

A million bagallion things have happened since I last left. I will try to put it in a list of 10 Top Things for all of you!

1. I received VERY high marks on all of my Regents exams, thank you very much, Mr. Studying!

2. I’ve started vocal lessons! Right now, I am working on “My Favorite Things” and Wiegenlied, aka “Go To Sleep”.

3. I went on vacation to Boston, MA! It is so blissfully pretty there, I recommend a vacation there if you ever get the chance!

4. I’ve acquired a new favorite band, Cash Cash! They are extremely awesome; my favorite song of theirs is “Sugar Rush”,  with “Electric Hearts” and “Party In Your Bedroom” coming up top next. There is just SOMETHING about Electronica!

5. I am now going to summer camp. (Yikes!) It’s Fredonia’s Leadership Camp, and I must say that for my first time going to an away camp, I guess I am acting quite the newbie..

6. My Betta fish, Calypso, has now matured! He is now a healthy MR. Calypso! [= Sweet Pea also turned 2 June 21st!

7. I have gotten more ORGANIZED! Finally, I have binders and lists neatly categorized, and I just bought a dry erase board from Wal*Mart, that, hopefully, will help with remembering stuff!

Secret #4: I am horrible at most things. I am always forgetful, so never feel bad if I forget something major!

8. I participated in my first coffeehouse at Barnes & Noble! I read a piece on the SPCA, about a ficticious pit bull named Vanilla. If I must comment myself, I think the emotional impact went over well. [ ;

9. On Sarah- Land, I have gotten extremely popular! I am the 4th most hit author out of five! My friends Courtney and Auden are also up there, too! [= I loved how Courtney’s “A Chance At Heaven” turned out… cool title, right? Well, I was the one to tell her she should call her novel that! LOL Yes. It is awesome being a collaborator. I also love love love her new piece, “Pretty Please With Popularity On Top!”

10. And, ba-da-BANG!, my favorite thing of ALL? I FINISHED MY FIRST NOVEL! Naturally, Me is now in the process of being typed. I am majorly excited… I have already created a cover!

And, since you all took the lovely time to check out this post, I am posting my longest preview portion of my novel, EVER, for you, my blog hitters! [= This is kinda exciting, and nervous. Remember the comment box, down there at the bottom of the page, me thinks. I’d love to hear if you’re becoming one of my first fans! Hahaha, just kidding! Better to be good natured… okay. Enough stalling. Here it is! (Avec le cover)

Amy

I remember how it all started. It was a Tuesday morning. I was nine at the time, so Amber didn’t even exist yet.
Aunt Macy was busy with two year old Tessa, golden curls bobbing as she ran around with Spark, our black lab. Max was his usual self, building a huge Lego tower that Tessa would mess up later, as usual.
Even back then, I thought my family was a bunch of mental cases.
Dad was already at work, a bakery named Luigi’s. The nice thing about Dad’s work was that Dad always came home smelling of warm foccaccia bread, toting something yummy for dessert.
Mom was already gone, too, to work with her real estate agency. If Mom wasn’t scrambling out the door, I knew I’d slept in late. Sure enough, the digital clock blared ten thirty-nine. I dressed in jeans and a tunic and hopped down the stairs in my white Keds, bumping the carton of orange juice as I ate a Pop Tart.
It was then that I looked out the window to see if it was sunny. To my surprise, not only was it perfect weather; Gemma Maxwell was outside. Gemma was a whole year older than me, and she was a fifth grader.
Gemma always seemed so tough, so mysterious, and so cool. I had dropped my Pop Tart crust and casually walked outside. I kept walking until looked up and was like, oh! There’s Gemma!
“H-hey, Gemma. I’m Amy. Amy S-stone.”
I’ll always remember that ‘tsk’ of her teeth, and that eye roll.
“No, DUH!”
And them she had smiled. Smiled! A perfect, toothy smile! I loved the way she said “duh”, like “d-UH”! It sounded so cool.

“Like, I know!”
I had smiled, just to make sure she did like me, and Gemma had smiled back.
“Cool.”
Had Gemma said I’m COOL? My gosh!
“HEY!”
A boy with long arms and legs and a deep flush had his bike rolling towards us.
“WAAATCH—”
Gemma and I’d hopped onto a lawn.
“Oof!”
He tumbled down.
“You okay?”
I ran over. Eww. He smelled of boy perfume. Dad wore boy perfume!
“Uh-huh. I had to bike away. My mom was attacking me with cologne! Mom said all boys wear cologne, but I say it stinks!”
He wrinkled his nose and I laughed. Who was he? Oh! Curtis Hemingway, from Mrs. Grosuk’s fourth grade class!
“Hey, Curtis!”
I was so excited. If Gemma was nice, and Curtis was nice, we could be three best friends!

Curtis squinted at me.
“Uh…umm…oh… Amy! Amy Stone!”
He smiled, a goofy, lopsided grin, compared to Gemma’s perfect, toothy smile.
I had to grin back, the weird “show-only-your-four-top-teeth-and-lips” grin, as my Mom called it. She said Max and I had the Stone smile.
“Curtis?”
Gemma had grinned again, and crossed her eyes at his name. I giggled.
“Let’s go to Sundae’s!”
No one would take down an offer to Sundae’s where “Every Sunday is a Sundae!”. Sundae’s was the most popular spot in Harmony. Curtis nodded to Gemma who shrugged at me.
“C’mon, then!”
We ran/biked/skipped down Main Street, over to autumn Park and across Cambridge Lane. There was the gigantic, tacky, hot pink ice cream cone, tilted the slightest degree on its post. I remember what we ordered, which became our must-have when we went to Sundae’s.
“Banana split, hold the cheery on top!”
Gemma had said, adding,
“Please!”
“Butterscotch with extra whipped cream and chocolate chips on top, ma’am!”
Curtis had waved.

“Ummm… a-a c-custard twist c-cone, w-with rainbow sp-sprinkkles!”
I had stuttered to Ruby. I always had trouble doing things for myself. Max, Mom, Dad, or Aunt Macy always took charge, even though Max was younger.
******
Now, here we are, six years later. We’re sitting here at table seven, Curtis to the left and Gemma and I are on the right, eating our must-haves. Gemma leaves her bananas untouched, as usual. We walk out, me leaving the two dollar tip for ol’ Ruby, who’s a good working woman for the age of seventy-five.
“Watcha wanna do?”
Curtis blinked, and I could already read his mind. Today was his type of catch day.
“Hmm.”
I perched on the bike rack, pretending to think.
Gemma sighed.
“Does it HAVE to be me all the time? Fine! What about…”
“Catch?”
Curtis asked hopefully.
“No.”
Gemma sighed miserably.
“I was thinking water tag, since it’s hot.”
I pursed my lips, trying not to smile.

Gemma had never wanted to play water tag since seventh grade, when Bryan Thompson purposely shot the hose on full blast at Gemma’s face, mussing up her makeup.
After that, water tag was, “boring”, “stupid”, or “childish”.
Curtis shrugged at me.
“Okay!”
I smiled.
We bought little five cent water guns at a Save A Dime, and filled them up with Curtis’s ice cold hose water.
“JEEZ! You didn’t even give me a chance!”
Gemma screamed as Curtis shot her in the back.
I cackled, and gasped as Gemma hit me in the chest.
“Jerk! It’s freezing!”
I chattered.
I hit Curtis in the butt.
“Cripes, Amy! You’re freezing my butt off!”
Curtis yelled, and we ran around like a bunch of immature babies.
“Amy!”
Amber shouted.
Spark’s tail waggled through the fence crack.

“AMYYYYYYYYYYYY! Mommy wants you hooooome!”
Amber’s annoying six year old smile taunted me.
I sighed.
“Gotta go, guys.”
“See ya later!”
Gemma called, and Curtis grunted.
I smiled as I went into the house and heard Gemma scream at Curtis.

Gemma

After Amy left, and I had gotten whipped by Curtis, I dragged my wet butt home to change out of my soggy clothes. I opened the door to hear silence.
Ugh.
Silence can be the loudest sound in the entire world.
The silence when you are taking a dreadful exam.
The silence when your heart is racing, pulsing in your ears, when you feel scared.
The silence that is awkward, when someone’s fighting.
The silence of sympathy.
The silence of horribly nasty stares.
The silence that brings you to tears.
“I absolutely hate silence!”
I grumble out loud, to make sure I am not in a living dead world. I turn on the radio, blasting loud WFMY. At least someone else in the world is there for me.
“Call to request a song! 987-6985.”
Chuck grins through the speakers.
Even this is stupid, pointless, childish, I dial.
“Yes? This is?”
“Gemma.”
I breathe into the phone. It is so exciting, hearing my voice broadcasted through the speakers.

“Okay, Gemma, what’ll it be?”
I close my eyes.
******
This reminds me of when I was five. Daddy was my hero back then.
“Here’s my gem, my girl, my Gemma!”
Daddy used to sing to all of his friends, and then he’d twirl me around for good luck before his game of pool.
I was also his clover, his good luck charm.
Some days he’d be in a good mood, put me in the old rusty white truck and drive me out to PJ’s, which I personally liked better than Sundae’s.
“Okay, Gemma, what’ll it be?”
He’d always ask with a wink, and I’d say,
“Oh, Daddy, I don’t know; pistachio, butter pecan?”.
Then I’d giggle and he’d laugh and get a small, not a baby, because I wasn’t a baby; cone vanilla. And then we’d drive a little further into Schwenksville, and we’d see the latest family movie at the drive-in. We wouldn’t pay though, just sneak around the entrance and park in the back, well hidden in the shadows, and leave five minutes before the end, and I’d come home all sleepy, and we’d snuggle in bed…
“Gemma?”
“Oh, sorry! Um, Lullaby?”

“Coming right UP!”
Chuck grinned.
“’Kay!”
I said.
“Thanks for everything!”
I mumbled, but I was already off-air, dial tone buzzing in my ear.
******
I was twelve when Dad left.
One day, Mom and Dad were fighting and cursing over why the bills weren’t getting paid.
“It’s your fault!”
“Jesus, Heather, you’re the one who stays home with Gemma and Logan! You should WORK!”
“Me? Ha! Me WORK? What do you think I DO all day? Lounge around all day with your kids?”
That day I had blasted a new Hillary Duff CD, tuning them out. Dad had come in an hour later, and turned down the volume on Hillary.
“Sweetie,”
Dad started, and I already turned to the wall.
“WHAT?”
I snapped.

“Oh, my Gem, my Gemma.”
Dad sighed.
I peeked just a little at him.
“Gemma, I’m moving. I’ve always wanted to try to be a back-up singer somewhere, make it big with some super star!”
My throat burned and hot tears poured down my cheeks.
“Yeah, huh? It’s so easy to leave your family for your dreams! It’s so easy to hide that YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!”
I screamed.
It was so stupid for Dad to think that Logan and I didn’t sneak around. We found receipts for orders of roses, for a woman named Trish.
Dad looked at me, eyes red rimmed with tears and regret.
“Gemma.”
He whispered, reaching out to touch my face.
“DON’T TOUCH ME! LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU AREN’T MY DAD! I HATE YOU! I’D NEVER WANT TO LIVE WITH YOU!”
I screamed, ranting off retorts like bullets.
Dad just looked at me sadly.
“Gem—”
I turned the volume on Hillary high. Let him go deaf so he can’t hear his perfect pitch.

Dad bent down to get a Post-It pad off the floor. He ripped off a sheet and wrote something, blew me a kiss, and walked out.
I pretended not to care about any of it.
As the rusty white truck’s engine roared, I felt more calm, somehow, and more teary-eyed. I picked up the note.
MY GEMMA, MY GEM, it read, LOS ANGELES. 852-4049. I’M SORRY, I’M ASHAMED. I LOVE YOU. DADDY
To this day, that note is stuck to the inside of my journal.
Starting that year, I skipped lunch, because then I’d save about 50 dollars for Mom.
Every day, I’d sneak quickly after school to the Stone’s.
Amy’s parents are the most unbelievably generous and kind people.
Every day, they leave their back screen door open. Kids can come in and help themselves to a large plate of homemade cookies. So I’d rush there every day after school and steal a good part of the whole thing, shoving cookies into a plastic baggie I always brought.
By the end of the year, I had sixty dollars that the lunch lady handed back to me.
“You bring?”
She snapped her gum.
“Yeah. Saves money.”
“Your mom will be happy.”
She smiled, and for a second I got nervous. Did she know my plan?

But then she yelled,
“Ne-EEEXT!”
So I knew I was safe.
That day, I found Dad’s address and printed it cleanly in his handwriting on an envelope. I addressed it to Mom, and wrote a note.
HI HEATHER,
HOW ARE THE KIDS? ARE YOU DOING GOOD? I FOUND A LITTLE BIT OF WORK RIGHT NOW. I THOUGH THIS MIGHT HELP YOU ALL OUT A BIT.
YOURS TRULY,
FRANK
I slipped it into the envelope with the sixty dollars, put a single stamp I bought, and put it in the mailbox.
“Hey, Gem!”
I jumped.
“Jeez! Hi, Logan. Work good?”
My brother’s just a year older than me, but he’s allowed to work at Zippy’s Submarine Shoppe.
“I guess.”
Then Logan grinned and flashed a twenty-dollar bill.
“Great! You got paid?”
“Well, that’s only half.”

I started water for spaghetti.
“That’s really great.”
I could tell my brother’s jade eyes were searching me. He knew something was off.
“What’s up?”
Logan scratches his long blond hair.
“Nothing.”
Sixteen wasn’t old enough to know my problems.
Mom came inside.
“Hey, Logan. Gemma, why didn’t you get the mail?”
“Sorry.”
I grinned sheepishly.
“Oh!”
Mom gasped.
“What?”
We cried.
“Your Dad…”
She read the note.
“What NERVE!”
She slammed it down.

“Are you good? Oh, yeah! I’m swell! My husband left me a few years ago for a lost-in-the-world girlfriend and still hasn’t made up his mind to come back!”
Mom glared out the window at the sun.
Logan bit his lip, too.
“Well, at least the son-of-a-gun actually left money!”
I could tell that Mom was hiding that she was actually glad to hear from Dad.
We’d eaten spaghetti that day in silence.
******
Today I’m sitting here, trying to brush out the knots in my thick maple hair. It’s always like my family, a tangled mess.
I’m so unlike the rest of my family, with cloudy blue eyes and olive skin.
Curtis is a stereotyped Hemingway! They all have perfect tan skin, green eyes, and curly darkish blond hair.
Amy is a true Stone, too, with the sun streaked brown hair that everyone but Tessa has.
Why can’t the Maxwells be a perfect family?

Curtis

I blow back that one annoying curl that always flops in front of my left eye.
“Go Curt-IS!”
Greg whoops as I run around the track. It’s as if I’m flying, adrenaline rush pumping through me,
“Well done, Hemingway! You did two miles in fifteen minutes. That’s an impressive mew record for you.”
Tom Fairswell is an okay coach.
He’s always pushing us to do our personal best, which I guess every coach does. But he’s really mouthy when it comes to meets.
“You can go home!”
I run out of the track and get my bike from the high school rack. I bike home and there’s Mom, all worried.
“It’s seven-oh-five! Don’t you end at seven?”
“Yeah, Mom, but I need to ride here!”
I huff.
My mom, Alicia Hemingway, is an over-protective stay at home mom.
“Sorry, Sweetie.”
She ruffles my curls, and the one flops into my eye.
“Errrg!”
I run upstairs and throw myself onto the bed, Mmm-mmm. My muscles ache so bad.

“Curtis! Curtis!”
Lily crawls onto my bed.
“Wanna play a game?”
You can’t avoid Lily, because if you say “no” to her, you’ll regret it. One time, my boxers were spread across the lawn, soaking wet from the water hose.
Another, she had somehow lifted the top layer of my birthday cake and spread a thick layer of mustard underneath.
So, I sigh and say,
“Sure.”
She brings out Mancala and I space out, just clicking the little marbles around the wooden pots.
“I win!”
Lily squeals, bouncing on the bed.
“Again?”
“Naw, I’m tired.”
I say, and pick up Lily and put her in her room, running to lock my door.
“Oof!”
She bangs into it.
“Moooommyyy!”
Lily bawls.
“Curtis locked me out of his room!”

“Shh, honey, Curtis is sleeping.”
Mom whispers.
I can almost picture her scooping up Lily and pushing her away.
“Let’s make brownies.”
“Okay!”
Lily bounces down the stairs.
And even though this is stupid, feminine, I take out my black composition book and write on top in cobalt Sharpie, CURTIS’ JOURNAL
MAY 23RD, I write, SAME OLD DAY. WATER TAG WAS FUN WITH AMY & GEMMA.
What else can I write? Oh, man. This reminds me of a fifth grade assignment from Mrs. Bowman.
******
“Class!”
I can hear her screechy, high voice now.
“Take out your journals! We will write an entry entitled, ‘The Best Day’.”
I had about had a nervous breakdown. My gosh. What could I say?
A day of catch, non-stop?
A track meet where Eat Harmony won all titles?
A day with Amy and Gemma, playing Lazer Tag at the new Titan’s Landing?

I was overwhelmed with choices, but my hand had already made the decision for me. It had written,
“THE BEST DAY IN MY LIFE WAS WHEN MY SISTER WAS BORN.”
How corny. What a sap. I wanted to erase my hand from my body.
“Stupid, Stupid!”
I’d grumbled, mumbling to myself.
But when Lily was born, the day was perfect.
My Mom had gotten all red and huffed,
“Curtis? Call Daddy! Tell him the baby is on the way!”
I had dialed the number engraved in my head; 462-0729.
“’Ello? Jeff Hemingway!”
My Dad’s gruff voice boomed.
“Dad, the baby’s on the way. Mom needs you!”
“You’re a good man, Curtis.”
My Dad had coughed.
“Tell Alicia I’m coming.”
Gemma and Amy peeked over the fence, eyes wide, jaws dropped open.
As Mom was placed on a stretcher, I ran outside, grinning with pride.
Inside, I was actually scared to death.
We came into the birthing section of the hospital, Dad and I nervous wrecks.

“Ehmygod!”
Dad kept on breathing, huffing with fear.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“She’s here!”
A nurse burst out of room 207.
I smiled.
A sister!
“A… girl?”
Dad sputtered.
I shrugged.
I didn’t mind a sister!
“Come on!”
The nurse took my hand and led me into the room.
“Curtis!”
My Mom smiled.
“Meet Lily.”
She tilted my sister to meet me.
Lily yawned.
“She looks like a PRUNE!”
I said.

Mom laughed.
I actually thought she was the prettiest thing in the world.
A new beginning, or something.
Dad came in, too.
“A girl.”
He sighed, but then he grinned and touched her tiny face.
“What a good sport!”
The nurses whispered.
“Hey, Lil!”
Dad tickled her nose.
Lily made fishy faces with her mouth.
I laughed.
Then, we had to leave Mommy, so Dad took me to get ice cream.
We went to a place called PJ’s, which isn’t nearly as good as Sundae’s.
I ordered a toffee crunch sundae.
We sat there, licking ice cream, and Dad said,
“Curtis?”
“Yeah?”
I slurped on my spoon.
“You’ll always be my favorite boy.”
I couldn’t say ‘I know, Pop!’, so I just nodded.
******
So, now, I think back to that perfect day.
Lily sure has changed, I could say.
But, nah.
Lily’s a part of me. She’s my sister.
And though I’ll never admit it, I love her all the same.

So, there it is! The first three chapters! Let me know what you think! Post a comment here, and get more savvy personal at btterflygurl@gmail.com
Thanks!

Love,
Sarah