*I made a mistake! In my last part, I put that Manny was an only child.
Not true: she has an older brother. She mentions him in "Family Politics".
So let me change the line that her mom says: "You're his (her father's)
only daughter." I'll just have the brother be in college. There. I feel
better, and on with the story!:
Part Six:
The day the reports in English were due, I was really nervous. But it
wouldn't be a big deal: I wouldn't have to present mine until the next
day.
Emma was up first. She cleared her throat, glared at me, and began:
"My report is about eatting disorders, which inflict nearly 11 million of
Canada's citizens. Ninety percent of those are female, and 45 percent of
them are between the ages of 14 and 19."
I was mortified. How could she do a report like that? How could she
be practically telling the whole class that I had an eatting disorder?
I didn't! And eveyone was staring at me. I hated her, with a boiling
anger.
After class, I approached her in the hall. "What was up with that?" I
demanded.
"What?" she said, trying to play innocent.
"Don't play that, Emma Nelson!" I exclaimed. "Everyone knows that you
changed your topic, and they know that we're fighting. Why do you want
everyone to think I have an eatting disorder?"
"Because you do!" she shrieked. People were staring, but of course she
wasn't thinking about my feelings. "Look at yourself! You've probably lost
at least ten pounds in three weeks! Your clothes are baggy, you look like
shit!" With that, she stomped away. I wanted to cry.
I was thankful when Paige and Hazel came up to me. Paige was kind: "I
just saw what happened, Manny. Don't worry, she's just jealous that you're
popular and she's just a stupid little tree hugger." She gave Hazel a look,
and Hazel sighed and said, "Why don't you sit at our table at lunch now?"
I could tell it was hard for her to do.
I saw Emma staring at us from down the hall. I nodded, and shot her a
dirty look. She walked away.
Paige and Hazel didn't even notice that I didn't eat. They didn't eat
much themselves: they both had salads, and nibbled at the carrots. The
boys were wolfing down their food, it reminded me of my dad.
I kept looking over at Emma during lunch. About halfway into the lunch
period, she was gone.
I went home that day, and was surprised to see Father already home. "Oh,
hi," I said, starting to my room.
"Manualla, sit down," he said sternly. Oh, no, what was going on? Did he
find out about my talk with Mama or something? I sat. "I recieved a call
from the school today," Father said. "The principal, Mr. Raditch, says
you haven't been eatting lunch. Is this true?" A pause. "Well?"
I nodded. "Manualla," Father said, "Why?"
I was so angry. At him, and at Emma. I stood up. "Because I don't have
to, that's why!"
"Young lady, do not raise your voice to me," he said in his dangerous
voice. If I were ten, I would've pissed my pants. But I was older now,
and I had to take control of my life.
"You don't let me do anything!" I yelled. "You didn't let me go to the
school dance last year! Well guess what? Emma and I crashed a dance this
year."
"Manualla-"
"And I also went on a date. A DATE. With an older boy! How's that? I don't
care that I have an arranged marriage! And I went to a party last summer,
and a girl took drugs there."
"Go to your room, Manualla," Father said in his most dangerous voice. "We
will talk about this later."
"NO!" I said. "We won't talk about it. I'm leaving."
"MANUALLA!" Before he could stop me, I was out the door.
But where would I go?
Read and review, thanks!
Not true: she has an older brother. She mentions him in "Family Politics".
So let me change the line that her mom says: "You're his (her father's)
only daughter." I'll just have the brother be in college. There. I feel
better, and on with the story!:
Part Six:
The day the reports in English were due, I was really nervous. But it
wouldn't be a big deal: I wouldn't have to present mine until the next
day.
Emma was up first. She cleared her throat, glared at me, and began:
"My report is about eatting disorders, which inflict nearly 11 million of
Canada's citizens. Ninety percent of those are female, and 45 percent of
them are between the ages of 14 and 19."
I was mortified. How could she do a report like that? How could she
be practically telling the whole class that I had an eatting disorder?
I didn't! And eveyone was staring at me. I hated her, with a boiling
anger.
After class, I approached her in the hall. "What was up with that?" I
demanded.
"What?" she said, trying to play innocent.
"Don't play that, Emma Nelson!" I exclaimed. "Everyone knows that you
changed your topic, and they know that we're fighting. Why do you want
everyone to think I have an eatting disorder?"
"Because you do!" she shrieked. People were staring, but of course she
wasn't thinking about my feelings. "Look at yourself! You've probably lost
at least ten pounds in three weeks! Your clothes are baggy, you look like
shit!" With that, she stomped away. I wanted to cry.
I was thankful when Paige and Hazel came up to me. Paige was kind: "I
just saw what happened, Manny. Don't worry, she's just jealous that you're
popular and she's just a stupid little tree hugger." She gave Hazel a look,
and Hazel sighed and said, "Why don't you sit at our table at lunch now?"
I could tell it was hard for her to do.
I saw Emma staring at us from down the hall. I nodded, and shot her a
dirty look. She walked away.
Paige and Hazel didn't even notice that I didn't eat. They didn't eat
much themselves: they both had salads, and nibbled at the carrots. The
boys were wolfing down their food, it reminded me of my dad.
I kept looking over at Emma during lunch. About halfway into the lunch
period, she was gone.
I went home that day, and was surprised to see Father already home. "Oh,
hi," I said, starting to my room.
"Manualla, sit down," he said sternly. Oh, no, what was going on? Did he
find out about my talk with Mama or something? I sat. "I recieved a call
from the school today," Father said. "The principal, Mr. Raditch, says
you haven't been eatting lunch. Is this true?" A pause. "Well?"
I nodded. "Manualla," Father said, "Why?"
I was so angry. At him, and at Emma. I stood up. "Because I don't have
to, that's why!"
"Young lady, do not raise your voice to me," he said in his dangerous
voice. If I were ten, I would've pissed my pants. But I was older now,
and I had to take control of my life.
"You don't let me do anything!" I yelled. "You didn't let me go to the
school dance last year! Well guess what? Emma and I crashed a dance this
year."
"Manualla-"
"And I also went on a date. A DATE. With an older boy! How's that? I don't
care that I have an arranged marriage! And I went to a party last summer,
and a girl took drugs there."
"Go to your room, Manualla," Father said in his most dangerous voice. "We
will talk about this later."
"NO!" I said. "We won't talk about it. I'm leaving."
"MANUALLA!" Before he could stop me, I was out the door.
But where would I go?
Read and review, thanks!