Today in gym, Lisa DeSilva fell off the ropes. At first they thought she lost her footing, but it turns out she had fainted. Luckily she was only about five feet up and there was a big mat underneath. They ask me to take her to the office so Gary can call her mother to come get her.
I wonder if she still lives in the same house. When we were in lower school, Lisa had a Halloween party in her basement. Her father or stepfather stood at the top of the stairs, making ghost noises through the door while everyone ran around screaming. The floor was sticky with apple juice and squashed candy corns. My cat tail fell off and got lost. Witches hats were mashed. Even Lisa, dressed as a blue fairy, seemed unsure of what would happen next.
I sit with her in Gary’s office. She’s lying on the couch under an International Year of the Child poster. Her hair is dark brown, almost eggplant. She used to be really cute but now she wears glasses with peach-tinted frames that make rest of her face seem small and indistinct. She looks defenseless in her gym clothes, tiny blue shorts and a decal shirt whose decal has been bleached out and is now just a white plastic shape.
“Feel my hands,” she says, laying one hand upon my arm. They are cold and clammy. I still remember the day we were huddled around her in gym, asking, “Does it hurt? Do you bleed a lot?” Lisa was our resident expert. She was the one with the experience. I want to thank her for telling us about it, to tell her that, three years later, I finally got my period, but it has been a while since we were friends.
Unhexed=Bites of Lunch that were cut from the final manuscript. As I slowly, slowly make my way towards creating a print version of the book I may include some of these cuts. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. In an effort to not confuse the reader with too many characters I cut out minor ones.
Click here for the book page and code. What’s the catch? There isn’t one, just a request: if you like it, be like Heather Locklear and tell a friend.
Kimberly on Goodreads wrote: “This is a beautiful, and achingly accurate portrayal of the highs and lows of middle school! I must emphasize the beauty of it since now I can appreciate it, being many moons from junior high! I don’t remember the excerpts in Sassy, but I’m happy I stumbled upon it now. This is a wonderful summer read, and although there are teens at the heart of the story I think it will be best enjoyed by us grown-folks, especially Gen X-ers or older. I would love to see what happens next!”
Thank you, Kimberly!
If you’ve read the book, what do you think about the best age for readership?
Or a sequel?
Review by: Susan Price on May 08, 2012 :
Lunch in Brooklyn is an amazing and engaging read. Set in late 1970s NYC, it is a year in the life of 14 year old Kate. The late 1970s in NYC were remarkable for parents and children – one might say their roles and responsibilities were practically reversed. Rebecca Moore has really captured so much of that era, both at home and at school, along with the teenage angst we all experience growing up. A very fresh, present and compelling read, you can’t help but identify with Kate and so many other characters.
Posted on Smashwords today.
Sassy Editor Christina Kelly aka Fallen Princess has 10 of these vintage Sassy Nirvana stickers to give away. Here’s what you can do to win one:
2) Email the link to your review to the Princess along with a mailing address.
The first 10 people who post a review win.
Surrounded by the hulking gray and peach buildings, Downtown Brooklyn’s Family Court and the Metropolitan Transit Authority headquarters, the park feels like one of those abandoned places in a Planet of the Apes movie. It is not a park mothers would take children to. It was built over an underground parking garage. Six lanes of traffic stream by the Adams Street entrance. Inside the park is a playing field with bald dust spots, a row of cherry trees and a privet hedge along the side. We used to come here every day for recess in lower school. You could find treasures in the bushes: broken jewelry, metal watchstraps, chess pieces, screwcaps. There was a sweet smell down there, when you crouched along the edge of the field where the dust met the bushes, rotting cherries, Thunderbird.