Girl Power Read Free Page B

admit that.
    “No problem, Em. I’m glad I could help.” Morgan set her sewing basket aside. “Want to listen to some music? I have a new Newsboys CD.”
    “Sure, I’ve never heard of them. Are they good?”
    “Pretty good. They’re a Christian group.”
    Emily nodded politely like she was interested, but it actually sounded kind of strange.
    “Come on over here and you can do the lyrics with me.”
    Emily sat down on the futon next to Morgan and peered down at the tiny print on the paper. She tried her best to listen to the music and follow along with the fast-paced lyrics. Morgan knew most of the songs by heart. Emily tried to sing along, but it was like her words were in a blender, being chopped and spun until they were senseless. Finally, she messed up a line so badly that Morgan quit singing and burst into laughter. Soon they were both laughing so hard they had tears running down their cheeks. Emily couldn’t even remember the last time she’d laughed like that.
    “You know what?” gasped Morgan.
    “No, what?” Emily wiped the tears from her face and tried to catch her breath.
    “You sing just like a white girl!”
    And they both exploded into fits of laughter all over again.

chapter three
    “You live in America now,” Amy yelled. “Just speak English!” She slammed the front door behind her, but not quickly enough to avoid hearing her mother say, “Don’t speak ill of your elders,” only she said it in Vietnamese—
not
English, naturally! Amy couldn’t understand her parents at all. Sure, they wanted
her
to act and talk and look just like an American girl, but it seemed
they
hardly tried to fit into this country at all. And they’d been here for years and years. Sometimes Amy wondered why they even bothered moving here in the first place. Oh, she wasn’t stupid. She knew it had to do with “hard times after the war,” but that meant little to her since she’d spent her whole life as an American.
    Sometimes her family was so humiliating. Okay, not her older brother and sisters so much. At least they spoke English—even if it wasn’t perfect. And for the most part they tried to fit in. But sometimes her parents were so old-fashioned and just plain weird that she actually pretended she didn’t even know them. She knew that was a horrible way for a daughter to act, but sometimes they just made her crazy!
    She checked her watch. It was already 7:48, and she did not like going to school even three minutes later than usual. She liked to be early and prepared and ready. Miss Thurman liked it too. She always smiled and treated Amy special when she was the first one to arrive. Sometimes she even gave her small jobs to do. Otherwise, Amy would carefully sort through her desk, sharpen her pencils, and then read until school finally began at eight thirty. Leaving even five minutes later than usual might really mess up her day. As she walked toward the entrance, she peered over at the street outside the trailer park, looking over to where the gang of mean boys liked to hang out, but no one was there. For a split second she considered heading off to school without the other three girls.
    “Hey, Amy,” yelled Carlie from her front porch just a few feet away. Carlie had a toddler balanced on one hip. “This is my little brother, Pedro.” The small boy smiled and waved at her, then Carlie set him back inside the house. “
Adios, mijo
,” she called as she closed the door. Then she grabbed up her backpack and ran over to where Amy was waiting for her.
    “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” asked Carlie as she slipped her backpack over her shoulder.
    “Yes, I have two sisters and a brother, but they’re a
lot
older than me.” She pointed to a mobile home across the street. “They live in their own house right there. They’reall still single and in their twenties. They work at our restaurant part-time and go to college part-time.”
    “Wow, they have their own house to live in. That must be