: Rob Roy
: Theresa and Lisa: Just Starting High School
: BookBaby
: 9781098307493
: 1
: CHF 5.20
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 222
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Theresa and Lisa are normal fourteen year old girls, attending a Denver high school and doing what teenage girls do. But life as they know it comes to a screeching halt when both girls face the shock of pregnancy-one as a result of sexual assault, and the other through a relationship with the boy downstairs. As they struggle to adapt to teenage motherhood, family drama, drugs, and alcohol will affect their attempts to raise their sons.

ChapterOne

You Can’t Keep Me fromGoing!

“Theresa! Where are you going?” demanded Mom from the open front door that I had, a moment before, slammed shut in herface.

“Out!” I snarled, only half-turning my face to her when I stopped toanswer.

“It’s a school night and your grades….”

“They’re my grades and my business! And I don’tcare!”

Blotches of red began to grow across Mom’s face as she stood in the open doorway. She reached for the frame to steady herself and snatched her hand back when it hit the scarred, splintered hole left from a previous tenant kicking the screenoff.

Then, Mom advanced toward me and I turned to face her, standing firm in the dry grass. I kept my eyes narrow and my face in a sneer. “You can’t stop me from going! You can’t stop me from seeing Tom!” I spat with the sneer, “On Tuesday or ever, I’mgrown!”

Before I could add another insult, my shoulders slammed onto the ground, and the sudden weight from Mom slamming on top of me forced out the air from my lungs. As I struggled to breathe, I could feel her hands pressed around myneck.

About that time Mom must have realized that she lay on top of me with her hands at my throat. “You ungrateful…” she exclaimed in surprise and stopped trying to strangle me. “Get out!” rasped Mom as she solved the problem of what to do with me. She pushed away from me like I smelled rotten and struggled to her feet. I still lay on the ground struggling to breathe and Mom took two deep breaths. She yelled at me, “Don’t you ever come back here again!” Then Mom straightened her faded blue work shirt and blinked her crying blue eyes that tried to look daggers at me through the dirty blond hair hanging in her face. Finally, she turned, walked back through the open door and into theapartment.

Surprised but unhurt, I scrambled to my feet, took a deep breath, and began to run off into the September evening. As I ran, I brushed some dry grass off the back of my crop top, the skin of my lower back, and the seat of my jeans. I also brushed my hand through my blonde hair, but I found nothing but tangles. M