Back Roll with It Save as PDF
Chapters (22)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. 1 Symmetry
  5. 2 Wrecked
  6. 3 Road Trip
  7. 4 Trailer Living
  8. 5 Merry Christmas
  9. 6 Appointments
  10. 7 False Start
  11. 8 Challah and Basketball
  12. 9 Cupid’s Arrow
  13. 10 Speeches and Ambulances
  14. 11 Pageants and Court Cases
  15. 12 Test Kitchen
  16. 13 Bert’s Tiny Town
  17. 14 A Revelation
  18. 15 Fish Fries and Pie
  19. 16 Buoyed
  20. Acknowledgments
  21. More from the Author
  22. About the Author

“This. This thing between you and me. It’s sixty degrees and sunny, and your grandmama already said if we’re going to yell, we have to take it outside.” She puts her hands on her hips like something out of Gone with the Wind.

“I’m not going to yell.”

“Fine. It’ll just be me, then.”

“What do you have to yell about?”

“Come outside and I’ll tell you.”

Out on the porch the sky is bluer than it’s been all winter, and when the breeze shifts, I get the smell of wild onions. Mema’s been digging in the garden.

Coralee takes a seat on the rocking couch and her skirts fly up like a Hula-Hoop.

“Lookit, we just drove in from the pageant,” she says, and I can’t believe I forgot that was today, but she doesn’t give me even a minute to feel bad about it. “And I had a bit of a light bulb moment when I was onstage, and I’ve come to tell you about it.”

“Are you wearing fake eyelashes?”

“Ellie, hush, and yes, and let me get this out.”

I wait.

“I know this might make you madder at me, or maybe you can’t get any madder than you already are. Either way, I’m going to say it anyway.” She takes a big breath like she’s about to sing the anthem again—“Ellie Cowan, you are not normal.”

“Thanks. Can I go in now?”

“No, let me say my bit. Ellie, you are not normal, but I wouldn’t want you to be for all the tea in China. And I would have told you that if you hadn’t stormed off, or if you had answered any of my texts.”

She’s plucking at the torn seam in the couch and not looking at me. Not a single hair on her head moves in the breeze. It’s got that much hair spray in it.

“I know that,” I say at last.

“You do?”

“Of course I do. But you listen to me”—I poke a finger into her hoop skirt so she’ll look at me—“Bert’s not the only one who needs to work on his filter.”

“I know. I know. And I’m sorry you got sick.”

“Yeah, me too.” I know I should tell her now that Mom is shipping us home. Instead I say, “So did you win?”

“Nah, second. But Sierra didn’t even place, so I consider it a victory.”

“Why aren’t you dancing a victory dance, then?”