Melody Carlson - Anything But Normal

Anything but
Normal

Melody Carlson

2010 by Melody Carlson

Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Carlson, Melody.

Anything but normal : a novel / Melody Carlson.
p. cm.
Summary: Honor student and future journalist Sophie, a seventeen-year-old senior, was pressured to break her purity pledge and fears she is pregnant, but is unable to go to her parents, friends, pastor, or even God for help.
ISBN 978-0-8007-3258-5 (pbk.)
[1. SecretsFiction. 2. PregnancyFiction. 3. Christian lifeFiction. 4. High schoolsFiction. 5. SchoolsFiction. 6. JournalismFiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.C216637Any 2010
[Fic]dc22 2009025389

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Whaddya think, Sophie? Carrie Anne stepped out of the fitting room and performed a quick 360-degree turn. She patted the backside of the slim-fitting jeans and then frowned. Do these make my trunk look big?

Sophie rolled her eyes. Yeah, right. Your trunk belongs on a Matchbox carshe turned her own rear end toward her best friendwhereas mine is more like the back end of a Club Cab.

Carrie Anne laughed. Hey, lots of guys appreciate a little junk in the trunk.

Enough with the car metaphors. Sophie stared at her own image in the three-way mirror and groaned. This is so useless. And these jeans are the worst ones yet. Seriously, I give up. Its just that the pockets are all wrong. Carrie Anne pointed to Sophies behind. See, they should be lower down and set farther apartits just a bad design.

Or maybe Im just a bad design.

Carrie Anne gave Sophie a stern look. Okay, now youre insulting the designer.

No, I didnt mean it like that. Besides, its not Gods fault that Im fat. I mean, I wasnt born fat.

Youre not fat, Sophie.

Uh-huh. Sophie turned away. Carrie Annes definition of fat was pretty subjective, not to mention contradictory. Shed try to convince Sophie that she wasnt overweight, but if her own waist developed the slightest muffin top over a pair of size 2 jeans, she had no problem saying, Oh, man, Im such a porker. I need to lose ten pounds. And then Carrie Anne would launch into the latest, greatest lose-weight-fast tips kind of like hint hint.

Youre just curvy . Carrie Anne continued with her passive-aggressive routine. Really, Sophie was used to this stuff, so why let it get to her now?

Yeah, whatever. Sophie reached for the door as the lump in her throat grew larger.

Dont be so hard on yourself.

Right. Sophie went into the dressing room and locked the door behind her. Tears were sneaking out and trickling down her flushed face. What was wrong with her? When had she turned into such a wimp?

Why dont you let me pick out another pair for you? Carrie Anne called out. I saw some jeans that

Thats okay. Sophie pulled up the bottom of her baggy Gap shirt, using the hem to dry her cheeks. Of course, this simply revealed the overly plump muffin top that was pouring over the waist of her too-small jeans. I think Ive tried on enough clothes for today, Carrie.

But school starts on Tuesday.

And your point is? Sophie popped open the button and released the zipper, allowing her tummy to spill out and her lungs to inhale properly. Seriously, overly tight jeans had to be hazardous to ones health. Manufacturers should be forced to put a warning label on them.

What are you going to wear next week?

The same things Im wearing this week.

Carrie Anne didnt respond.

Dont worry. Sophie tried to insert some cheer into her voice. Ill try not to look like a bag lady. She peeled off the detestable pants, then stared blankly into the full-length mirror in front of her. Some of her friends thought she looked like Drew Barrymore. But today Sophie thought she looked... well, generally unimpressive. Her honey-colored, shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. Her greenish blue eyes, one of her better features, looked swollen and red. And her turned-up nose, also red, was dripping. She used the hem of her shirt again. Really, she should listen to her mom and start carrying tissues in her purse.

Sophie stood up straight, taking in another deep breath. This was so out of character for her. So perfectly ridiculous. She really needed to pull herself together. Sure, she was pleasantly plump. But good grief, that was nothing new. Shed begun developing curves way back in fifth grade. That had been torturous enough back thenher peers had still looked like spindly colts while shed felt like a clumsy cow. But now that she was seventeen and a senior, her friends had finally caught up. Or nearly. Carrie Annes bra size was still a teeny-weeny 32AA. And even though she claimed it was 34A, Sophie knew better because she had recently seen one of Carrie Annes bras on top of a laundry basket and checked it.

Sophie squared her shoulders and decided to take a more positive inventory of her appearance. Seriously, it was time to count her blessings, to be thankful for how God had made her. For one thing, she was able to walk, and her mind still worked okay. Not that it was much consolation.

She shook her head and took another good look at her image in the mirror. At least she was still sporting a pretty good tan, the result of spending all of August working at the church youth camp. And her legs were actually in pretty good shape. Running up and down all those trails, trying to keep up with the crazy middle school girls, had paid off.

Hey, Sophie, you coming outta there anytime soon? Carrie Anne asked.

Sophie grabbed up her cargo pants. Yeah, Im still getting dressed.

Im going to get that last pair of jeans I tried on. Meet me at the cash register, okay?

Sounds good. Sophie pulled on her loose pants. The well-worn fabric felt cool and soft against her skin, fantastic com- pared to that last pair of horrid jeans. She slipped into her Banana Republic flip-flops and reached for her bag. Carrie Anne would probably appreciate it if Sophie fixed up her face a bit. Besides, who knew whom she might run into here at the mall? So she put on some fresh lip gloss, adjusted her smudged mascara, and even removed the haphazard ponytail, brushing and fluffing out her naturally wavy hair. There, much better. Carrie Anne juggled her shopping bags, holding up her latest purchase like a trophy as the cashier placed her change on the counter. Im almost out of money now.

Big surprise there.

And Im starving. Carrie Anne dropped one of her sacks. Ready for lunch?

Sophie picked up the fallen bag. Need some help with those?

Yeah. Carrie Anne shoved the largest bag toward Sophie it was from Macys and looked like it was about to fall apart. Take this one too. Its what you get for not buying anything yourself.

Maybe Ill find something after lunch. Sophie rearranged her purse to accommodate the oversized bag. And next time Ill try one size bigger.

Or... , Carrie Annes voice sounded cautious,... you could get a really great pair of jeans that are one size too small and use them as an incentive to shed a couple of pounds.