She seems to be concentrating her writing on fairy tale retellings, well me likey that. We get to know her better and see how she has gotten to where she is today, but unfortunately she is not the main focus of the story. This time around Kendra is trying to help out a girl named Emma. She has a stepdad that she considers her real I think I may have become a permanent fan of Alex Flinn.
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Alex Flinn 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 Lisette rang the doorbell.
No one answered. She rang a few more times, then she sat down on the garbage bag and cried some more, great, racking sobs that shook her shoulders. We sat that way for a long time, me in the tree house, Lisette sobbing by the door. It struck me for the first time that my father was a jerk. Lisette and I were the same.
Finally, the air was quiet. This was my chance, my one chance. The tree house creaked as I made my way down the ladder. Instead of walking toward the porch, I went in the opposite direction, toward the street.
Just as I reached it, she looked up. She stared at me full in the face and smiled through her tears. In that moment, I knew I hated her. Lisette was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, more beautiful than Courtney or any of the popular girls at school, more beautiful than my dolls. She looked like a grown-up, like one of those people on Inside Edition.
Her eyes were the same color as the sparkling, royal blue shawl, and her lips were large and a shade of red my mouth only got if I drank a red Slurpee. I knew the girls at school would soon make her their queen, and that made me hate her even more. Her eyes fell on my book. I should have left it in the tree house.
Finally, I said my first words ever to my new stepsister. Maybe we can help each other out. A sister had to love you, right? I debated doing this because, actually, it was two rooms, a suite with a bathroom between.
At first, Daddy had suggested I give up one to Lisette, but Mother had vetoed that. Mother called it the guest room, even though we never had guests. It had seemed like a good idea, but as I helped Lisette drag her garbage bag from the doorway, I thought it might have been fun to share with her.
That was before she got cool in sixth grade and dumped me. She gasped. Then, at the end, she was so sick I took the sofa bed in the living room. This is so pretty, though. I was lucky because my mother had stolen her father and all his money too.
But, apparently, Lisette was too nice to notice. Now, she threw herself onto the bed, her face sinking into the pillows, which were old ones Mother had removed from other beds. Her clothes took up less than half the tiny closet plus a single drawer. She had no books, no dolls, certainly nothing expensive like a laptop, only a few stuffed animals, notebooks from school, and a framed photo of a fragile-looking blond woman, her mother.
This, she put by the bed. There were no other photos of friends, no yearbooks either. I took more to sleepaway camp. When we finished, I offered to show her around. At every door, her eyes widened. Our house was average for the neighborhood, and I went to public school. Still, I saw her taking in the flat screen TV, the pool, the Jacuzzi. I remembered her comment about sharing a room with her mom. Only poor people did that. She did notice. Size: Tiny. Status: Never worn.
You just have more of an athletic build. She held up the jeans and examined the stitching. Or sell them on eBay? I always hear about sisters sharing stuff. I pushed back the envy I felt, knowing it would all look a thousand times better on my beautiful new sister than it ever had on me. Lisette had nothing. This was the least I could do.
Besides, I wanted her to like me. Does our father come home for dinner? Hey, do you have any nail polish? Actual girlfriend stuff, bonding over noxious chemicals. I mean, sure. You pick one. Might as well let Lisette think I had real friends, not just people I sat with at lunch and never saw on weekends. Lisette chose the royal blue polish and the one with silver sparkles.
In one, there was just a left hand. I looked away before Lisette could follow my eyes. We have a butterfly garden out back. The monarchs lay eggs on a plant called milkweed. Sometimes, we catch them and put them in a butterfly house so they build their cocoons there.
I hate my skin. You could squeeze those little blackheads, but other than that. You just have to get them the second you walk out of the shower. Lisette had perfect skin, so obviously, she knew. This is why people needed friends. Having a second toe longer than the first is supposed to be a sign of leadership.
And then, there was Cinderella. In older versions, the stepsisters cut off their toes and heels to try and trick the prince into marrying them. I looked at my big toes, and I knew which one of us would be the stepsister in the story.
My teacher said my foot was underdeveloped. Then, just when I finally got them, I had to quit. Maybe you can do it here. I miss my old studio, though. After a minute, she picked up the clear nail polish.
She walked in without knocking and took in the scene: me and Lisette as buddies. And sometimes, I felt like she really needed to get a job again, so she could stop obsessing about me all the time.
I always did my homework with no nagging from her. You might have other homework during the week. Do it now. Only then did she finally look at Lisette.
Dinner will be at six. When she was gone, Mother went to the door, looked out, shut it, then sat on my bed. She wants information out of you, something she can use against you with your father, her father. Did you tell her anything, anything private?
This is deranged. Having nice things? That one looks all sweaty. And do your project. Then, I gathered the pile of clothes and also some books I thought Lisette might like, not nerdy classics, but the kind even the popular girls read, books about faeries. Maybe Lisette would be like a faerie visitor who would change my life in mysterious ways. Okay, that sounded dumb, even to me. She gestured that I should come in.
For other uses, see Breathing Underwater disambiguation. It tells the story of year-old Nicholas Andreas, a wealthy Miami teen who is sent to anger management because his girlfriend, Caitlin, takes out a restraining order against him. Ordered by the judge to write about his relationship, Nick tells of falling in love with her, and the eventual time when his anger took over and he hit her. Flinn based the book in part on her experience as a lawyer working with domestic violence cases. The book is set in Miami and Key West, Florida. Diva, a sequel to Breathing Underwater was released in