Destiny Faraday makes a point of keeping her distance from her classmates at Hedgebrook Academy. Her number-one rule: Don't get attached. But one day, unexpectedly finding a car at their disposal, Destiny and three of her classmates embark on an unauthorized road trip.
They're searching for one fair daya day where the good guy wins and everything adds up to something just and right. Their destination: Langdon, a town that Destiny's unsuspecting companions hope will hold simply a day of fun. But, as Destiny says, "Things are not always what they seem." Only she knows that Langdon holds far more than thata deep secret she has never shared with anyone.
The Miles Between explores the wonder and magic of a very real world where chance, mystery, and secrets abound.
About the Author
Mary E. Pearson is the author of bestselling, award-winning novels for teens. The Miles Between was named a Kirkus Best Book of the Year, and The Adoration of Jenna Fox was listed as a Bank Street Best Children's Book of the Year, an IRA Young Adult Choice, NYPL Stuff for the Teen Age, and a School Library Journal Best Book of the Year. She is also the author of A Room on Lorelei Street, David v. God, and Scribbler of Dreams.
Pearson studied at Long Beach State University and San Diego State University. She writes full-time from her home in Carlsbad, California, where she lives with her husband and two dogs.
Read an Excerpt
The Miles Between
By Mary E. Pearson
Henry Holt and CompanyCopyright © 2009 Mary E. Pearson
All rights reserved.
I was seven the first time I was sent away. This raised eyebrows, even among my parent's globe-trotting friends, and I was brought back home in short order. Rumors are embarrassing, you know? A nanny was employed, but that only partially solved their problem. I was still in the house. I was seen and heard. When I turned eight years old, it seemed reasonable to send me off again. And they did.
They never kept me at any one place for long. The counselors are bothersome and have too many requests. Like asking that my parents visit at least once. Or that I return home for holidays. When rumblings begin, I know I will be shuttled off somewhere new once again. I don't allow myself to get too settled or attached. There is no point.
I came to Hedgebrook when I was fifteen. That was almost two years ago. It is by far the most beautiful of the boarding schools I have attended. I commend Mother and Father. Rolling green hills hem in the redbrick mansion that serves as the school. Many of the dorm rooms still have bars on the windows, due to its previous use as a mental hospital, but they don't interfere overly much with the view from my room. I can see pasture after pasture, white fences that bend and hide with the hills, two red barns, and a farmhouse that is so far away I can only guess that the color might be blue.
Today is October 19, the exact same date I was sent away when I was seven. I pay attention to dates, numbers, and circumstance. Obsessively, some say. I prefer to think of it as careful observation, finding the pattern to coincidence. Can there really be such a thing as a pattern to coincidence? It would seem to defy the very definition. But many things are not what they seem to be.
Take Hedgebrook, for instance. Hedges are abundant here. They separate gardens, stables, and fields. Some are large and loose, and move in the wind like sheets billowing on a line. Others are small and tight, like nervous turtles hunched in their shells. And others in the distance, naturally sprung up along brooks and in the dips of hills, are really a mixed batch of trees and shrubs, actual forests if you could get through them, but hedges by default.
And then there are the brooks. There are four within a short stroll of Hedgebrook. They all tie together somewhere, I'm sure, or maybe they all started out together once and were separated by an unforeseen knoll, but they thread around Hedgebrook like thin shoelaces, so there is always some babbling within earshot.
But it is only coincidence, for it is not the hedges or the brooks for which Hedgebrook is named but for Argus Hedgebrook, who built the first home here in 1702. Not a tremendous coincidence. Some would say none at all. But still, I think about it and wonder, like I wonder about today.
I snap my sheet as I have done every morning since I have been here. Schedules are the lifeblood of Hedgebrook. Failure to follow the prescribed routine has consequences, and I am resigned to that because, really, Hedgebrook is a place I can sink into. I wouldn't say I love it, but I can feel invisible, which is not such a bad thing to be. It fits around me comfortably, like my gray chenille robe. But mind you, I am not attached to Hedgebrook. I wouldn't be so foolish as that.
My aunt Edie visits every three months. It is not easy for her. As rich as my parents are, she is poor. Not destitute poor, but traveling is a luxury for her. She tried to get custody of me when I was ten, but I suppose she couldn't outmuscle my parents' lawyers. Nothing came of it. But every time she visited, she would tell me she loved me, and every time I would ask why my parents wouldn't let me live at home, and every time she would turn away and wipe at her eyes. I don't ask her anymore. I enjoy her visits, and I don't like to see her cry. Crying is something I avoid watching and doing. Nothing comes of it either. I learned that when I was seven.
The breakfast bell rings, and I hear shuffling in the hall outside my door.
"Breakfast, Des," Mira says, briefly poking her head in the door, before she hurries on.
Like I don't know.
Mira's daily reminder drove me mad at first. I punched her on my fourth day here. Impulsive, yes, but I hadn't quite settled in yet. I thought it would stop her, but the next day, there she was again, announcing breakfast, and I realized that perhaps she couldn't help herself. Well, certainly she couldn't, if even her swollen lip was not a deterrent. And she didn't tell anyone how she got it either, so I tolerate her daily intrusion, thinking of it as a newspaper smacking my door. I've even added to the routine with my daily response.
"On my way, Mira." It's a small thing to offer for one who doesn't cry over split lips.
I tuck the sheet beneath the mattress and quickly tuck in the blankets as well, neatly folding the corners, the way Aunt Edie showed me years ago. She comes after classes today for a two-day visit. Mrs. Wicket knows that Aunt Edie is low on funds, so she allows her to stay in an empty room over the old carriage house. It is against the rules, but Mrs. Wicket likes Aunt Edie, and I suppose she likes me, though I have no idea why. I make a quick phone call to the front office to remind them of my aunt's pending arrival and then comb my short black locks with my fingers and a sprinkling of water from the glass by my bedside.
Before I leave for breakfast, I take a last look at my calendar. My days are bunching up. I have never been anywhere this long. I know the news will come soon. Where will they send me next? But it is best not to think about it, because that means I would care, and I don't. I rip October 19 from the pad and crumple it into the trash. It feels almost illegal to dispense with a day that hasn't yet played out. I smile at the thought of being able to so easily control my destiny.CHAPTER 2
"The oatmeal is pasty today."
I plop three ladlefuls into my bowl and pour milk on top. Of course it is. The oatmeal is always pasty. Mira is a fountain of old information. But I give my usual lengthy response so she won't repeat herself.
The dining room is emptier than usual. There are three dining rooms at Hedgebrook: the larger hall that holds all 420 students and the two smaller ones off the kitchen. I eat in the smallest one most often, along with eight or nine other students. The room is furnished simply, with one large no-nonsense wooden table and a dozen sturdy chairs around it. I set my bowl and glass of juice down.
Curtis and Jillian are on either side of me. Mira, Aidan, and Ben are opposite us. Mrs. Wicket sits at the end reading the paper with one hand, nibbling buttered toast with the other, and trying to talk to students as they arrive. The true definition of multitasking.
"Good morning, Destiny."
"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full, Mrs. Wicket," I tell her.
"Yes, I know. You've told me. Sleep well?"
"Where is everyone?" I ask, meaning the usuals. I try to stir the lumps from my oatmeal, and milk spills over the side of my bowl onto the table.
"Isabel is sick. Seems to be a mild case of the flu, but just the same we've isolated her in her room," Mrs. Wicket answers.
"She never gets sick," Jillian says.
"Today's her recital, too. Why today of all days?" Mira adds.
Ben shakes his head and only says, between mouthfuls, "Bad timing."
I look out the window and feel something stirring, not on my skin but somewhere deep inside. A blast of wind and leaves hits the window, startling Mrs. Wicket so that she drops her toast on her plate. "Goodness! Where did that come from? The forecast today called for fair weather."
"I could have told you," I say, stirring in another spoonful of sugar to make the lumps more palatable. "It's the nineteenth."
"Oh, boy, here we go." Aidan leans back in his chair. "Don't indulge her."
"And what does the nineteenth have to do with wind?" Jillian asks.
"It's only breakfast talk, right, Des?" Mira offers.
"Nothing," I tell Jillian. "But certainly there will be nothing fair about today, including the weather."
"Profound. Can we stop now?" Aidan is fearful of anything fateful or coincidental.
"I'm just saying —" No need to frighten them all. And saying one more word might do it. I know the tics and fears of each person who sits in our dining room. I know how they cross their feet beneath the table and how much food they leave on their plate each morning. I know how often they look askance at the others and how often they wonder if they are being noticed. I know how often Jillian will touch her napkin to her lips — twenty-two times — and how many times Curtis will clear his throat — seventeen times — like he is trying to find the courage to speak. I know how many times Mira will nervously glance across at all of us — forty-four times — and hope that we are getting along. And I know how many times Ben will look at me when I am looking away — five — wondering just what is wrong with me, because even though my eyes can't see him, I feel the scrutiny of his gaze. And I know all this, with amazingly little effort. After almost two years, their habits have, in an odd sort of way, become mine.
"Look at Isabel," Ben says. "There are 364 other days she could have gotten sick."
I mash my lumps against the side of my bowl. Lumps are not fair either. Not day after day after day.
Isabel is not a friend. I do not have friends at Hedgebrook. But still, I mull over Ben's words.
"Curtis? You're quiet. Nothing to add to the breakfast conversation?" Mrs. Wicket has resumed her multitasking, eating her toast, reading her paper, and making sure no one is left out. Curtis shakes his head. He makes a point to eat with us every day but rarely says anything unless Mrs. Wicket almost forms the words for him.
"And Faith? Where's she?" I ask.
Mrs. Wicket sets her paper down and looks over her reading glasses.
Ben looks at me and then Mrs. Wicket. She sits up straight and stiff. Aidan obviously doesn't catch Mrs. Wicket's body language and blurts out, "She's with child. You didn't notice? She's leaving."
It was no secret that Faith was blossoming daily. And we had all had sex ed and knew exactly why.
"But what —"
"We don't gossip here at Hedgebrook," Mrs. Wicket warns.
"Of course we do," Jillian says.
"But not very much," Mira clarifies.
"Why does she have to leave?" I ask.
"We aren't really set up for babies here," Mrs. Wicket says.
"And the boy, does he have to leave too?" I ask.
"He doesn't attend Hedgebrook."
"Well, I bet wherever he attends school, he's not missing a single day of it," Jillian says. The room dims. I think I am the only one to notice. And then it lightens again, like a cloud has passed the sun. For a brief moment everyone is frozen in time, like the sculptures that decorate the garden, and I look at each one, wondering at how easily their lives are intersected by simple things beyond their control, like wind and clouds and people.
"Aren't you going to ask where Seth is, Des?" Mira asks.
Seth is new this year, and just because I happened to notice him when he first arrived and made a comment about his scruffy blond hair, Mira seems to think I have an interest in him. Which I don't, of course, because that would break my number-one rule: Don't get attached. But I can't stop observing. It is my habit, always on the outside, looking at the armor others clothe themselves with, comparing their natures with my own, trying to imagine how they got that way and understand why circumstances crowd into one life and not another. Seth is connection to my distance, smiles and easiness to my everyday calculations, and I wonder at the divergent paths that have created us. But I don't wonder overly much. I find his smoothness impossibly annoying, and I don't really care where he is, but Mira still watches me, waiting for a response.
"All right, Mira," I sigh. "Where's Seth?"
Aidan steals Mira's wind. "He has early-morning trash duty."
"What did he do?" Jillian asks, leaning forward, the scoop about Seth far more interesting than her shriveled sausage.
I see Mrs. Wicket faintly shake her head, resigned to the passing of the story.
Aidan tips his chair back. "Yesterday in English lit, Mr. Bingham opened the window —"
"And a strong breeze flew in!" Mira finishes. "It blew some papers off the desk —"
"And it blew his hair."
"Oh, my God, not his —"
"That's right! His comb-over!" Aidan confirms. "The whole class was trying not to laugh and then Seth raised his hand. Mr. Bingham calls on him, and Seth says, 'Uh, Mr. Bingham ... looks like the lid on your treasure chest is open.'"
Squeals and snorts explode through the dining room. Mrs. Wicket clears her throat.
"What did Bingham do?" Jillian asks.
"Mr. Bingham," Mrs. Wicket corrects her.
"What else could he do?" Aidan answers. "He shut the lid. And once the whole class quit laughing, he gave Seth detention and trash duty."
"That hardly seems fair," Jillian says, picking up her sausage with her fingers and nibbling on it.
"It's an English class, after all," Ben reminds everyone. "And Seth did use a metaphor."
"A good one too."
"He really should've gotten extra credit, don't you think?" Mira adds. "It was a compliment of sorts."
"Extra credit is what would have been fair."
"That's right," Curtis adds so that now he has officially been part of the breakfast conversation.
Mrs. Wicket smiles. "Finish up, now. Ten minutes until classes." She gulps down the last of her tea and stands, like she has every morning since I've been here, then claps her hands to send us on our way.
As we gather our dishes, Miss Plunkett enters with a piece of paper. Miss Plunkett is new and doesn't know all the students yet. "This call came a few minutes ago. They said you would inform Miss ..." she looks at the note again and says, "Miss Faraday?"
I look up from my oatmeal.
Mrs. Wicket briefly scans the note and then looks at me. "Oh, Destiny, dear. There was a phone call. It appears someone has stolen the tires — all four of them — from your aunt Edie's car. She won't be able to come today, but —"
I stand, my chair screeching behind me.
Everyone stops and stares at me like I am a fragile twit. Which I am not.
"Seth's a fool," I say. I snatch up my empty bowl and juice glass. "It would have been much more cruel to remain silent and let Mr. Bingham teach his entire lesson looking like a ridiculous lopsided rooster." I throw my dishes into the dirty dish bin near the door. "And that is what would have been entirely fair."CHAPTER 3
I generally try to stay out of trouble at Hedgebrook, and I am generally successful. But today, I'm afraid, trouble is already mine. I notice on my first step outside that it is a cloudless, windless day, as Mrs. Wicket had predicted. Yes, I can imagine things when I choose to. I can even be happily delusional if it suits me, which it often does. But I am always deadly observant, and I do know the difference between fantasy and fact. Back in the dining room, the sun dimmed on a cloudless day. And that is fact.
Instead of hurrying to my civics course as I should, I walk to the other side of Carroll Hall dormitory in search of a lone cloud, perhaps hiding in the garden because it is a pleasant place to be and because it is October 19, and I don't take coincidences lightly. But once there, I only find myself standing in the middle of an empty garden under a clear blue sky. Not even the tiniest bit of spun sugar clings to a spruce.
I hear the distant sound of the late bell. It echoes through the air in a strange curvy way, like it's trying to find its way to me, to let me know, Don't hurry, Des — it's too late anyway. You're too late again. I walk farther down the gravel path to a long stone bench that sits among the well-trimmed hedges and slowly ease myself down, like if I am quiet enough and gentle enough, maybe the world will leave me alone. I feel the emptiness of the garden. No wind. No clouds. No Aunt Edie. The stillness is odd, like the garden is holding its breath, or maybe it is just me who is doing the holding. Four tires, all gone. A sufficient excuse. Aunt Edie will not be coming.
A cold tremble crawls the length of my spine and spins around in my chest, and only because I am completely alone, I allow myself to lean forward and bury my face in my hands. The trembling grows, until it is shaking my throat like a furious switch. I rock, keeping my mouth shut tight. If I keep it tight, I will win. I silently count. One, two, three ...
Excerpted from The Miles Between by Mary E. Pearson. Copyright © 2009 Mary E. Pearson. Excerpted by permission of Henry Holt and Company.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Coincidence, fate, destiny - how much of our lives do these control? Destiny Faraday believes these powers have been in control of her life since the day she turned seven. Destiny is now seventeen; in fact, it is October 19th, her birthday. She pulls herself out of her bed at Hedgebrook Academy as a fellow boarding school student calls out "Breakfast, Des." At breakfast, she sits with the usual people and eats the same lumpy oatmeal the cook churns out every day. Will this day be the same as any other day, or could this day somehow be different? It turns out that quite a bit about this day will be different, and yet just the same. Later that morning, Destiny stumbles across a beautiful, pink convertible idling on the school grounds. The car offers the possibility of adventure and perhaps a chance to prove something to the parents she feels have abandoned her in various boarding schools for the past ten years. When Destiny spies Seth hiding out to avoid trash duty, she asks if he drives. When the answer is yes, they hop in the car and cautiously head toward the main gate. This is the first of a long line of coincidences that will take Destiny on the roadtrip of her life. Joined by two other students, Mira and Aidan, Destiny and Seth turn in the direction of Langdon some two-and-a-half hours away. Along the way they encounter some odd situations. They rescue a little lamb wandering in the roadway, and Seth promptly names him Lucky. When the gas supply begins to dwindle, a quick check of their finances reveals nothing but empty pockets until they check the glove compartment and discover a thick packet of $100 bills. Many other strange and unusual happenings fill their day until they finally arrive in Langdon. Destiny confesses to her travel companions that this is her home and that today is the day she wants to confront her parents about her feelings of abandonment. With promises to support her, her classmates rally as the joyous adventure suddenly turns more serious. THE MILES BETWEEN is the story of a girl searching for answers. So much in her short life has gone wrong, with coincidence as the only explanation, and now she seems ready to face the fears she has lived with for so long. Mary E. Pearson weaves together an amazing and tragic tale as she turns four acquaintances into true friends. The range of emotions packed into this novel will take readers from laughter to tears and everything in between. This is a must-read due out this September.
I love this book... Des and her friends go on such an amazing journey together! I'm so jealous of their fabulous friendships! What happens is: Des (main charactor) wish's for "one fair day" and she, unknowingly, gets her wish. She finds a car with the engine running and the driver's side door open. So she grabs her "friend" (more like accuantance) so he can drive her... Soon though, Mira and Aiden join her. They go through many triles and adventures all together... The Miles Between is amazing... I laughed, I cried, and I hurried to the end. Totally Extreme
okay so this book wasn't totally realistic...at least not in the exact ways that were used in the book...but weird things could just happen to happen...all at the same time on one day. I think the overall idea was awesome and fun and this book was unexpectedly suspensful!! not boring at all...made me bust out laughing at the baboon heart thing ;) Mary E. Pearson has quickly become one of my favorite authors. She writes about origional topics and her plots are always way cool. This book was particularly emotion for me in the second half...i finished it too quickly but I would (and will) deff read it again and again!
This elegantly written book has so much packed into it. It has they mystery of Destiny's backstory, the power of friendship, a fabulous roadtrip and a sheep! I was drawn into the story with the excellent writing, the great characters, and the idea of one truly "fair" day when the good guys win. It was hilarious, poignant, and so ultimately satisfying that as soon as I finished reading it I wanted to pick it back up and read it all over again. One I would definitely recommend, with nothing objectionable about it even for younger readers, say, 10 and up.
This story of four friends on a road trip is both heart-breaking and triumphant. When Des decides to disregard her loathing of October 19 ¿ a day that has always plagued her ¿ and take charge of her own fate, the coincidences multiply to astounding proportions. For a girl obsessed with coincidences and anomalies, this is both terrifying and exciting. As Des digs to find the truth of her abandonment, however, it is no coincidence that emotions run deep and the friends she told herself not to make surprise her in wonderful ways. A complete departure from The Adoration of Jenna Fox ¿ Pearson¿s highly-acclaimed previous novel ¿ The Miles Between is a sweet, enchanting story rife with twists and turns til the very end.
Disarming and predictable until the end, which wraps up a bit too quickly but with an unforseen twist.
Destiny Faraday was sent to her first boarding school at age seven and has endured a long series of schools in the ten years since. Fascinated with numbers and patterns, she realizes that her current two-year stretch at Hedgebrook Academy is her longest anywhere. The realization creates a feeling of change in the air and reinforces her #1 rule: Don¿t get attached.But her fascination with patterns extends to an interest in coincidence, and she believes that -- contrary to her life so far -- surely circumstances must sometimes line up to create something fair and good, yes? So when she finds an unoccupied, idling convertible and three classmates at loose ends, she takes a leap and the four of them take an impromptu road trip.Though the author is a bit heavy-handed in contriving and pointing out coincidences and tying up loose ends, The Miles Between is a fun, fast read, curious and heartfelt, with a forward momentum that is powered by the gradual reveal of an important secret.
I enjoyed this book, especially the distinct personalities of each character and the discusson of coincidences, historical and other wise. But then I got to the end, and the longest coda in the history of fiction. It was like watching a Shakespearean character die. OK, perhaps that's a bit harsh considering I really did like the book, as much as Jenna Fox if not more. But the end really blew it for me.
5 stars. This is a well-written tale of four very intelligent classmates that by chance get a ¿right day¿ for themselves and those who come in contact with them. The story begins with Destiny, a girl in her sixteenth year, living in a boarding school¿the last of many. She has been surrounded by monotonous schedules day after day since she was sent to the boarding schools when she was seven years old. But this day was to be a different day; this day she was going to break the rules and take whatever came. She would have done it by herself but the beautiful car idling under a tree with no one in sight was too good to be true. However, she didn¿t know how to drive so she had to find someone who would be willing to be an accomplice. Seth is a year older and had his own car before coming to the school two months earlier. He is the only one she knows who can drive. It didn¿t take long to convince him to come along since at that moment he was doing garbage duty, a truly unfair punishment. They start their adventures as they take the car and drive off. On the way out of the school they drive by the windows of all the classrooms. Mira is an outgoing peacemaker that had adopted Destiny as her friend although Destiny doesn¿t allow herself friends. She saw them and goes out to get in the car with them. Her teacher was out of the room for a moment so her escape went unnoticed.As they drive by the hospital, right before making their get away, the school geek walks by pinching his nose with blood in his hand. He gives them one look, and he, too, gets in the car. Thus these four completely different souls drive for miles toward a new destiny together.Although they weren¿t the best of friends, fate has put them together for a greater purpose. In that day¿s adventures they find friendship and much more. The foursome was able to put to rest many of the difficult things they had each endured during their short lives. Destiny is the one that has suffered the most, and thanks to her newfound friends, she is able to find peace and a brighter tomorrow. This book is full of real life experiences and the shadows they leave behind over those that must go on when they collide with our lives. It deals with separation, love, death, friendship, and hope; all feelings that we must learn to cope with at any given time. Some of them are feelings that we would like to keep from our youngsters, but without them they will never be who they will become. We all must face setbacks in our lives to be able to progress and become whole once again, and in this book you will find that Mary has done a beautiful job of lading us through them. I recommend it to preteens and up, especially if they are going through tough times in their lives.
Destiny Faraday is a loner. She doesn't get emotionally attached to people or places, and Hedgebrook is no exception. At 17, her experience is that everything is temporary, especially schools with bothersome counselors. Destiny spends her days observing her classmates, but never connecting with them. Until a unique opportunity arises that she just cannot ignore. On October 19th, a visiting teacher arrives, leaving the engine of his pink convertible running in the school parking lot. Destiny immediately searches for Seth, a boy she furtively crushes on. Finding him napping on the school lawn, he agrees to drive the car, assuming that it is hers. As they are sneaking away, Destiny's closest acquaintance, Mira, runs out to join them. Destiny is reluctant to let her join them, even more so when Mira insists that her friend Aidan come along too. But they all end up together, heading away from Hedgebrook for an unauthorized road trip.Along the way the four begin to get to know each other. At first, forced by Mira who demands that they play a game where everyone reveals a secret about himself or herself. Initially Destiny makes up elaborate stories, never telling the truth about herself, like that she is the last remaining descendent of Shakespeare. But the trip includes many stops, events, and surreal coincidences that allow the characters to more naturally open up, admitting dreams and regrets. Painfully holding back during the majority of the trip, eventually Destiny's car mates will learn the secret that she has held hidden from everyone, including herself.
October 19 is not going to be a good day. For some people this would be an educated guess. For Destiny Faraday it is a bleak statement of fact. It is also part of why she tries so hard to never get attached. To anything or anyone. October 19 has never been a good day for Des, which is why she crumples the day's calendar page before the day has even started. What was supposed to be a throw away day suddenly turns into something else. Thanks to an encounter with an odd stranger and the sudden appearance of a car, Destiny and three of her classmates start a road trip searching for one fair day--a day where the good guy wins and everything adds up to something just right. Which might be what will change everything in The Miles Between (2009) by Mary E. Pearson. Destiny is a broken, lonely character at the start of The Miles Between. Part road trip, part coming of age, this is the story of Des' one fair day but also her own, literal and figurative, journey to healing. Pearson maintains a sense of wonder throughout this story to temper Destiny's harsh reality and elevates what could have been a merely maudlin story to a charming, magically complex one filled with surprises where everything really does add up. Destiny and her wacky classmates (Destiny does not waste time making friends) are lovable and utterly tangible as characters. Possible Pairings: Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech, An Abundance of Katherines by John Green, 13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson, The View From Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg, Stealing Henry by Carolyn MacCullough, Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli, Absolutely Maybe by Lisa Yee
I love this author. I love all the twists and turns. She writes extremely well and I can't wait start another book by her.
I went through so many different emotions in this book and it absolutely amazed me. Recommed
I would recommend this book to anyone who knows how to read. It was fantastic! Maybe there is such thing as a fair day.