Wiess has created a spunky heroinetough, darkly humorous, yet achingly vulnerable. [A] gusty and effective thriller.
Such a Pretty Girl is a riveting novel and fifteen-year-old Meredith is a wholly original creation: a funny, wise, vulnerable girl with the heart of a hero and the courage of a warrior. This gut-wrenching story will stay with you long after you finish the last page.
In clear, riveting prose, Laura Wiess boldly goes where other writers fear to tread. Such a Pretty Girl is gritty yet poetic, gut-churning yet upliftinga compelling, one-of-a-kind read.
A. M. Jenkins, author of Damage and Out of Order
So suspenseful youll wish youd taken a speed-reading course. But slow down, because to rush would mean missing Laura Wiesss wonderfully precise language, her remarkable access to Merediths darkest emotions, and a shocker of an endingwhich youll want to read twice.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2007 by Laura Battyanyi Wiess
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ISBN: 13: 978-1-84739-605-1
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To Chet,
who made a quiet wish
and
got way more
than he bargained for.
Im so glad.
Acknowledgments
I owe a debt of gratitude to my agent Barry Goldblatt, whose belief in this book brought us together, and whose drive, faith, and enthusiasm never faltered. Thank you for always giving me your straight-up opinion of my work. It means a lot.
Sincere thanks to my intrepid editor Jennifer Heddle for her keen insight, generous guidance, and skillful handling of such an intense issue. Id also like to thank Jacob Hoye from MTV, Lauren McKenna, Lisa Litwack, and everyone at MTV/Pocket Books who worked to make this book happen. Its been a real pleasure.
Thanks to Cathy Atkins, Amy Butler Greenfield, Kristina Cliff-Evans, Lisa Firke, Shirley Harazin, Lisa Harkrader, Amanda Jenkins, Denise Johns, Cynthia Lord, Amy McAuley, Mary Pearson, Marlene Perez, Nancy Werlin, and Melissa Wyatt of the YACraft list for their 24/7 patience, humor, and wisdom. Youre the best.
A deep curtsy to Paul Pinaha for his experimental up-shot, Lauren Magda for her magical talent, and Emma Wiess for her wonderful, warm welcomes.
Im grateful to Sgt. Cliff Kumpf of the Milltown PD for his expert assistance regarding law enforcement procedures, and to Warren Barrett for his technical advice. You guys were great, and any liberties taken after the fact are on me.
Loving thanks to my parents Bill and Barbara Battyanyi, for their endless support, encouragement, and for never being too busy to listen, no matter how odd the topic. Thank you, Sue, my sister and best friend, for reading my work and calling me in fits, offering to adopt my main character, Meredith, and give her a stable, loving home. You mean the world to me. Thanks also to my brother, Scott, for the laughter and the blackberries, always so dear to my heart. Special thanks to Bonnie Verrico and Sheila Schuler, for more than twenty-five years of outstanding friendship.
Most of all, love and thanks to my husband Chester, who willingly shouldered more than his fair share to give me time. Without his strength, generosity, and good heart, this book would not have been possible.
Chapter One
T hey promised me nine years of safety but only gave me three.
Today my time has run out.
I sit on the curb at the back of the parking lot near the Dumpster. The waste from the condo complex bakes in this cumbersome green kiln and the stench is shocking, heavy with rancid grease and sickly-sweet decay. The associations tried to beautify the Dumpster, painting the rusty sides a perky green and relettering the faded RESIDENTS USE ONLY sign, but the battered lid thwarts them, as its warped from rough use and no longer seals the stewing fumes neatly in the box.
Perfect, I mutter and take a drag off my cigarette. Blow a couple of smoke rings and tempt the crusading, condo cowboys to rush from their air-conditioned dens and snatch the forbidden smudge stick away.
But they wont. They keep their distance now, afraid my taint will rub off.
These adults who ache to interfereconvinced their quality-of-life ordinances and PC patrolling make them a village-raising-a-childare the same people who picketed and wrote scathing letters to the editor to prevent my mother from renting a second condo in the front of the complex for my fathers homecoming.
It didnt work, of course. My mothers attorney protected my fathers rights and threatened to sue the complex owner if housing was denied. The owner caved, the condo was rented, and the neighbors were left reeling, hobbled by their own laws.
I wish I could have found him a unit closer to ours, but thisll have to do for now, my mother had said earlier, spraying CKs Obsession along her neck and thighs. And besides, its only temporary until we can live like a family again. Her cheeks were pink, her voice breathy with anticipation. Hes really looking forward to it, Meredith. Being home with us, I mean. Its whats kept him going. I hope you can appreciate that.
I watched her and said nothing. Silence was the key to self-preservation.
Now, where did I leave myoh, there it is. She crossed to the bed, slipped off her robe, and smoothed the lace trim on her white La Perla panties. The matching bra was for show only, as she was almost flat on top. And as far as this whole adjustment period thing goespersonally, I would have let you spend the weekend at your grandmothers like wed planned so your father and I could have had a little time alone first, but thats not what he wanted. Frowning, she examined the delicate, rhinestone heart stitched onto the front of the panties. Hmm. This better not make a bump under my dress. He wants us both here for him and I think that says a lot about forgiveness and a fresh start. Weve all sacrificed, Meredith. I hope you understand that, too.
I studied my thumb. Bit off a hangnail. Dead skin, so no pain. Not bad.
Just stay down, will you? She poked at the glittery heart, not seeming to notice my lack of response. Oh, forI dont have time for this. If it sticks up, Ill just have to cut it off. Impatient, she slid into her dress and presented me with her back so I could zip the new red mini. It was a size two from a Lord & Taylor window display shed designed at the mall and probably not intended for a thirty-nine-year-old with a stranglehold on her fading youth. Careful. This is silk.
I eased up the zipper and lingered, one knuckle brushing the warmth of her neck.
Time, Meredith. She pulled away and shook her hair, poked her feet into scarlet mules, and smoothed the dress from hipbone to hipbone. No lumps, no bumps. Perfect.