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| A novel for readers 11 and up Don't tell anyone what you wish for, even your parents. I learned that way back when I was six years old.
“Dad, I want to be a mermaid.”
Big mistake. Trust me. You gotta keep it inside. Because sons aren't supposed to want that, and parents never forget.
Chapter One On Saturday morning, I wandered into the living room and saw Dad up on a ladder installing the ugly new ceiling lamp. It looked like a land mine. | "Todd? When do you start camp?" Dad asked. "I just finished seventh grade yesterday," I told him. The land mine was hanging crooked. My parents didn't order the light I liked, with the frosty glass shade flaring out like a lily.
"What about baseball camp?" Dad went on. "Aren't you registered?"
"Nope." Dad twisted toward me dangerously. "What happened? You were supposed to sign up in P.E.!"
I steadied the ladder. "I don't even like baseball."
Dad frowned at the ceiling. "Then soccer," he growled, dropping a screw. "Find out when it starts." I trapped the rolling screw and handed it up to him. "You bribed me to play soccer when I was eight. You gave me ten bucks." |
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