The Truth According to Ginny Moon, Benjamin Ludwig [good books for high schoolers .txt] 📗

spite of yourself, young lady,” Mrs. Wake says when we are in the hallway going back to class. I don’t know what that means so I ask her.

“It means we know what you’ve been up to,” she answers. “We’ve finally got your number.”

“I’m fourteen years old,” I say.

“That’s right,” says Mrs. Wake. “Your birthday was two days ago, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” I say.

EXACTLY 3:05 IN THE AFTERNOON,

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 21ST

I am at the kitchen table eating nine grapes for my afternoon snack.

“Ginny, we have to talk about the computers at school,” my Forever Mom says. “We know about Gloria’s Facebook page and her blog. She’s been pretty quick to delete the comments you left for her, but we know the two of you have been in touch.”

I put the first grape in my mouth and wait for her to keep going.

“The police can’t make her shut the pages down, but we’ve been watching to see what she posts. The police have, too. So you can’t talk with her that way anymore.”

I don’t know if she read any of my Comments. I don’t know if Gloria had a chance to read it and delete the last one. I don’t know if my Forever Mom knows that I told Gloria to come to the Harvest Concert.

“Ginny?”

“What?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, how do you feel about it?”

I think hard and make sure my mouth is shut. I want to be good and tell her but I can’t.

“How did you feel about the apple cider farm?” she says. “And how about the fact that you’re in a safe place and have plenty to eat? How do you feel about knowing that no one is going to hit you? And what about becoming a big sister and staying at the same school for two years in a row? Or staying at the same house?”

She isn’t yelling but her voice is getting louder. Plus she asked five questions all at once. I don’t say anything. I eat two more grapes and wait.

And then she yells.

“Why the hell are you doing this, Ginny? Why the hell are you telling Gloria to keep coming back? She beat the hell out of you! You had a fractured arm and were starving! You almost died! I’m supposed to have a baby in two weeks—we can’t have this kind of insanity in the house with a newborn baby! Ginny, don’t you see? This all has to end! We can’t—”

She stops. I squeeze my eyes shut just in case. Then I hear her walk out of the kitchen. I hear the bathroom door close. She is crying.

Which means I’m not going to get hit.

I take a deep breath and finish my grapes. The last six.

EXACTLY 4:08 IN THE AFTERNOON,

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22ND

“It works like this,” says Patrice. “When a Forever Girl gets adopted, it’s forever, unless she makes her new Forever Home a dangerous place. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Within the past two weeks you beat up a plastic electronic baby and arranged to have Gloria try to kidnap you twice. You tried to throw a chair through a window, and you bit one of your teachers. Now, does that sound like a good environment for a baby sister?”

“No,” I say.

“Do you know what could happen to you if you don’t stop it?”

“If I don’t stop what?” I say.

“If you don’t stop trying to contact Gloria.”

“No,” I say.

“Then I’ll tell you,” says Patrice. “You could get yourself unadopted. Ginny, your parents love you, but they aren’t going to let you make the Blue House a dangerous place for Baby Wendy. So if you don’t stop trying to get Gloria to come see you, you’re going to have to leave the Blue House. Forever.”

“Does that mean I’ll have to go to another Forever House?”

“Actually, it means you’ll probably end up in a facility for girls who aren’t safe.”

I think hard. Gloria won’t know where I am if I go someplace else. Gloria won’t be able to find me again. I’m guessing she doesn’t know the address of the facility for girls who aren’t safe. It took four whole years for me to get on a computer and tell her where the Blue House is.

Which means I have to be good. I have to behave. I can’t try to escape or contact Gloria again. I have to wait until the Harvest Concert.

“Ginny, this isn’t a time to be inward. How do you feel about what I just told you?”

I look at Patrice. “I want to stay at the Blue House,” I say.

Patrice smiles. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say in a long time. Now, let’s talk about what we have to do to keep you there. You’ll be seeing me three times a week for a long time, so we’re going to work on this a lot.”

EXACTLY 5:29,

MONDAY, OCTOBER 18TH

It is the night of the Harvest Concert but it isn’t night yet. The sun is going down but it is still day.

I have been very, very good at the Blue House and at school so that I wouldn’t get myself unadopted. Even though the things in my brain keep trying to pull me into dark places. I have been picking at my hands a lot and keeping them in my lap so no one sees. I didn’t try to get on the computer or to have Larry get on the internet for me. I told Patrice three times each week that I wanted to be a good big sister. And it’s true. If I wasn’t going to get kidnapped tonight at the Harvest Concert I would try very hard to help take excellent care of Baby Wendy when it’s born.

In my backpack I have my flute, my quilt and a half gallon of milk. I’m all set to take care of my Baby Doll as soon as I find it.

Mrs. Wake is bringing me to the band room to warm up and practice with