Girls in Trouble by Caroline Leavitt

Author:Caroline Leavitt [Leavitt, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction, Family Life, Contemporary Women
ISBN: 9780312339739
Google: x-MQoZ11UWoC
Amazon: B000FC0YX6
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2005-03-31T11:00:00+00:00

By third grade, Anne’s teachers were writing on her report card, “She doesn’t apply herself. She’s off in her own world dreaming.”

Anne was always reading, always telling stories. At dinner she told George and Eva that she had seen a lion in the neighborhood but she had fed it cookies and it went home. “Oh, a cookie-loving lion,” George said. “My favorite kind.”

On the way to school, Anne told Eva that she thought she was growing angel wings under her dress. “Don’t fly away on us,” Eva said, grabbing hold of Anne’s hand.

When Eva took Anne to the park or the make-your-own pottery place or the pizza parlor, she saw other children in groups, their mothers hovering nearby. “Would you like to make a play-date with someone?” she asked Anne, and Anne shrugged and picked at a scab on her knee until Eva swatted her hand away.

“She needs friends,” Eva told George. “Maybe we should just call some of the other mothers and arrange something.”

“You can’t force friendships,” George said. “And I don’t think we should push her. You wait. She’ll have plenty of friends soon enough.”

Eva only felt a little better when Anne came home one day and announced she had a new best friend at school. “Darnelle,” she said proudly. For weeks, all Anne talked about was this other little girl Darnelle. Darnelle could sing songs backward. Darnelle knew how to speak French. Eva was thrilled that Anne had found a friend. “Invite Darnelle over,” Eva suggested. “We can make cookies together. Or make our own Play-Doh.”

Anne shrugged. Eva kept nudging her to call and finally Anne burst into tears. “We aren’t friends anymore. Darnelle hit me.”

“She hit you?” Eva said, shocked.

Eva didn’t tell Anne that she called her teacher, that she wanted to find out who this Darnelle thought she was. “Darnelle?” Anne’s teacher said to Eva. “Who’s Darnelle? There’s no girl in our class with that name.”

“Why didn’t you tell us the truth?” Eva asked Anne. “Darnelle wasn’t real.”

“She was to me,” Anne said.

She needs realfriends, Eva kept thinking, even as Anne began playing by herself again. She’d race across the backyard, head thrown back. She jumped rope singing to herself or rode her bike, and she liked to write stories, too, filling up the brightly colored notebooks Eva gave her. Eva tried to coax a look, but Anne held the pad to her chest.

“It’s private,” Anne said.

“Why can’t we see? I know I’ll love anything you do.”

“You promise?” Anne asked.

“I don’t have to promise, I know. What’s the story?”

“Oh, let her alone,” George said. He winked at Anne, who laughed. “Our little Greta Garbo. ‘I vant to be a-lone,’” he said and tickled her.

Eva personally hated to be alone. She had always loved big groups and lots of noise, which was one reason why Eva loved teaching preschool. She was thrilled when Anne found girls she liked to be with, real flesh-and-blood friends that Eva liked, too. Anne had first met Flor and June in third grade, two new girls in her class.

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