You up?” I had my school stuff ready to go and I was dressed al the way to my shoes. “I’m up,” I cal ed back, trying to sound sleepy even while I was beaming laser-hot “Do not even peek in here” rays at her through the wood. I heard her walk away, and I slunk across the room and pressed my ear against the door. I listened to Big help my mom into her walker and take her up the hal . As soon as the swinging door to the kitchen started flapping, I darted out of my room and into Liza’s. I started with the dresser, sifting through her underthings in the top two drawers, but I didn’t find any convenient secret diaries buried in her bras. I opened the deep bottom drawer and felt my way through the stacks of clean T-shirts that had been folded the way Big did them, into threes. I found a big fat bunch of nothing there, too. Most of Liza’s books were on the hal shelves, but one was on the bedside table, open in a tent, like any day now she would remember how to read and pick it up and finish it.
What do You think about A Grown-Up Kind Of Pretty?
