Heather Vogel Frederick - Home for the Holidays (Mother Daughter Book Club)

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SIMON & SCHUSTER CHILDRENS PUBLISHING

ADVANCE REVIEWER COPY

TITLE: Home for the Holidays

AUTHOR: Heather Vogel Frederick

IMPRINT: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers ON-SALE DATE: 10/4/11

ISBN: 9781442406858

PRICE: $15.99/$18.99 CAN

AGES: 9-12

PAGES: 352

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THE MOTHER-DAUGHTER BOOK CLUB

Home

for the

Holidays

Heather Vogel Frederick

Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers New York London Toronto Sydney

SIMON & SCHUSTER BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Childrens Publishing Division 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2011 by Heather Vogel Frederick All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

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Book design by Lucy Ruth Cummins

The text for this book is set in Chapparral Pro.

Manufactured in the United States of America Manf code

2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data ISBN 978-1-442-40685-8

ISBN 978-1-4424-0688-9 (eBook)

For Patty, who is the Tacy to my Betsy

Home

for the

Holidays

THANKSGIVING

"The holidays struck Deep Valley like a snowball, exploding with soft glitter in all directions."

Betsy Was a Junior

8Becca9

When there are boys you have to worry about how you look, and whether they like you, and why they like another girl better, and whether theyre going to ask you to something or other. Its a strain.

Betsy in Spite of Herself

D-E-F-E-N-S-E! DEFENSE, CONCORD, DEFENSE! I finish off the cheer with a star jump and a high kick, then fling my maroon-and-white pom-poms skyward, catching them neatly on the way down. As the pep band strikes up We Will Rock You, I look up in the stands to see if Zach Norton is watching.

Hes not.

Hes too busy talking to Cassidy Sloane.

Third sees me, though, and waves his trombone from where hes sitting with the rest of the brass section. I wave feebly back.

My friend Ashley swats me with a pom-pom, her dark eyes flash-ing with mischief. I didnt know you liked Third, she teases.

Third is actually Cranfield Bartlett III, but nobody ever calls him that, not even his parents.

Home for the Holidays

Shut up! I do not, I reply, through teeth clenched in a big smile.

Ms. ODonnell, our cheerleading coach, is a stickler for big smiles.

Eyes on the field, girls, she calls to us.

Ashley and I turn around just in time to see Darcy Hawthorne intercept a pass. Theres a roar from the stands behind usits almost the end of the fourth quarter, and Concord is down by six. We desperately need another touchdown. Along with everybody else on our side of the field, I scream my head off as Darcy runs the ball back down toward our end zone. He makes it almost as far as the center line before Acton manages to tackle him. Music explodes from the pep band, and Coach ODonnell gives us the signal to launch into another cheer.

First and ten, do it again! GO, Concord, GO! we holler, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

Turkey Day game is always a big deal for Alcott High. Thanksgiving is when we play our archrivals, and across the field, the visitor stands are a mass of blue and gold. For a split second I find myself wishing I was wearing one of Acton Highs cheerleading uniforms. I look so much better in blue than I do in maroon.

On the other hand, we get to wear yoga pants instead of the miniskirts the Acton cheerleaders stupidly chose. Not that I have anything against miniskirts, but its freezing out here. At least they should have opted for fleece leggings under their skirts. Their legs are practically as blue as their uniforms.

I cast a worried glance up at the sky. No sign of snow yet. I really, really hope the weather forecast is wrong. My grandparents are in 4

Heather Vogel Frederick

town from Cleveland for the holiday weekend, and Gram and Gigi, my best friend Megan Wongs grandmother, have promised to take the two of us shopping tomorrow. I dont want to miss out because of some dumb snowstorm.

Up in the stands, Megan reaches a purple-gloved hand from underneath the blanket shes sharing with Gigi and Gram and waves at me. I wave back at her, and at my grandfather and my brother Stewart and his girlfriend, Emma Hawthorne.

As much as it grosses me out to admit this, Stewart and Emma are kind of cute together. Well, as cute as two total dorks can be, I guess.

My dad blows me a kiss. I blow him one in return, and he stands up and pretends to catch it and tuck it into his pocket. Its silly and kind of embarrassing, but I dont really mind. For one thing, Im used to it

weve had this little ritual since I was a kidand for another, my dad needs all the love he can get these days. He lost his job a few weeks ago.

The insurance agency he worked for in Boston has been struggling for a while, and they finally had to lay off some employees. My dad was one of them. Hes really sad about it because he worked there a long time, and he liked his job. Hes worried, too, I can tell. He and my mother havent said much to my brother and me, aside from asking us not to say anything about it to our friends for now, but were not stupid. Stewarts a senior in high school, and Ill be getting my drivers license in a few months. Were practically adults.