by Bruce, Lexi;
ISBN: 9781538382646
www.west44books.com
LEXI BRUCE
Please visit our website, www.west44books.com.
For a free color catalog of all our high-quality books, call toll free 1-800-542-2595 or fax 1-877-542-2596.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Bruce, Lexi.
Title: More than anger / Lexi Bruce.
Description: New York : West 44, 2020. | Series: West 44 YA verse Identifiers: ISBN 9781538382639 (pbk.) | ISBN 9781538382646
(library bound) | ISBN 9781538383322 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Children’s poetry, American. | Children’s poetry, English. | English poetry.
Classification: LCC PS586.3 B783 2020 | DDC 811’.60809282--dc23
First Edition
Published in 2020 by
Enslow Publishing LLC
101 West 23rd Street, Suite #240
New York, NY 10011
Copyright © 2020 Enslow Publishing LLC
Editor: Caitie McAneney
Designer: Seth Hughes
Photo credits: cover (thread) xpixel/Shutterstock.com; cover (spark)
© istockphoto.com/dzika_mrowka.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer.
Printed in the United States of America CPSIA compliance information: Batch #CS18W44: For further information contact Enslow Publishing LLC, New York, New York at 1-800-542-2595.
To the teachers who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You taught me to read, to write, and to persevere. You taught me how to turn my dreams into reality. Thank you.
FAMILY TIME
Anna, get off your phone,
Mom says.
It’s time for dinner.
Dad’s home. We’re going out.
I sigh, text Jess, my best friend,
that we’l talk later.
I want to hear all about her new
boyfriend, Sam.
But for now it’s family time.
Strictly enforced—
three dinners a week.
Even if it’s only
a chance for them
to show the world
1
what a mess
we are as a family.
It’s not like when I was little.
We’d go out for burgers together
just for the fun of it.
Dad would tell bad jokes
that he got out of a book.
But we’d laugh and laugh,
mostly because he was already
laughing so hard
he couldn’t get the punchline out.
Now Dad talks about work
the whole ride over.
About how this idiot
screwed that up.
And the other idiot
did this wrong.
2
I tune him out.
I stare out the window,
people watching.
We seat ourselves
in a booth at the diner,
and then
they turn on me.
How’s school?
Mom asks.
It’s fine,
I say.
How’d that paper go?
Dad asks before I can
finish what I’m saying.
3
It was fine. Got a B-minus.
A B-minus!?
He almost shouts,
You can do better than that.
Would you stop picking on her?
Mom says,
B-minus is still pretty good.
What, you think she shouldn’t
try to do better?
She’s 16! She needs to
start acting like it.
You want her to grow up
to be stupid? Jobless?
He spits the words out
like he’s disgusted.
What did you just say
to me?
4
Mom slams her menu
down on the table.
She lost her job a year ago.
We haven’t even ordered yet
and they’re already
causing a scene.
I glance around the diner
to make sure no one I know
can see this happening.
Mom, I’m sure he didn’t mean it, I say, but too quietly.
Neither of them notice me.
Dad, I’ll do better on
the next paper,
I swear.
5
I speak a little louder, and this time they hear me.
They glare at each other.
Then turn back to me.
So, Jess’s mom said
there’s a dance coming up.
Are you planning on going?
Mom asks, as if Dad hadn’t
just cal ed us stupid.
The question makes me nervous.
Because I think Dave is about to
ask me to that dance.
Yeah, I’m definitely going.
Can we go
dress shopping?
6
Mom starts to say yes,
before Dad
butts in.
No, she’s not going!
She needs to
get her grades up.
My heart sinks.
This dance is my chance
to get to know Dave better.
We’ve sat next to each other
in third-period history
all year. We’re always flirting
and joking before class.
Last week he did a dead-on
imitation of our teacher
that had me laughing
for the entire 42-minute period.
7
Anna is going to that dance if I have anything to say about it, Mom says,
just to spite Dad.
Dad’s about to respond
when I change the subject
just to spare us all that argument.
Hey, where are we going
on vacation this summer?
We talk about
Cape Cod, Orlando,
San Francisco, or Yel owstone.
We spend the rest of dinner
discussing where we really
want to be, ignoring the tension.
8
I imagine myself, alone.
Exploring a jungle somewhere.
Or hiking the Alps.
Any adventure that gets me
away from my parents.
9
THAT NIGHT
After dinner, we go home.
I go into the living room
to work on my
math homework.
If I pull my grades up,
Dad will let me go
to the dance.
I know I should
try harder anyway,
if I want to go to a good col ege
and become a journalist
and travel the world,
reporting stories
that change history.
10
I plop down on the couch,
pull the quilt off the back,
and wrap it around me.
I flip open my book
and wonder why I’ll need to know
how to find the area of a triangle
if I’m reporting on world events.
I sigh and start figuring
out the first homework problem.
Dad’s sitting in the living room, too.
He’s squinting at his laptop.
No doubt some important work thing.
He works for the government.
He s
tudies the spread of disease
and figures out how to stop it.
11
He’s always working.
Always reading reports
and correcting mistakes.
Or he’s off at conferences
or helping out in other cities.
Mom’s on a cleaning spree
right now.
She’s been doing that
a lot since she lost her job
as a kindergarten teacher
last year.
Now she’s home al the time
and the fighting is worse.
When they used to argue,
one of them would drop it
before it got out of hand.
12
Now when Mom’s angry,
she won’t let anything go.
Now she has time to stew
and get really ticked off about
the little things.
She yel s more, so he works more.
Then she yel s about that,
and then they start all over.
I hear her going down
to the basement to put in
a load of laundry.
She slams the washer lid shut.
When she comes back up,
I hear her pull the vacuum
cleaner out of the closet.
13
I grit my teeth as she starts to vacuum the stairs.
I can’t pay attention
to my homework with the noise.
But if I complain,
she’ll start yel ing at me
for not cleaning.
Dad’s also getting mad
about the noise.
He’s fidgeting
and he rol s his eyes.
Finally he slams
his laptop shut
and stands up
and storms upstairs.
14
Do you have to make
all that noise while
I’m trying to work?
His yel ing is muffled
by the sound of the vacuum.
Hey, I’m trying to talk
to you.
The vacuum cleaner
turns off suddenly.
I know he’s pul ed
the plug out of the wal .
Yeah,
I hear you talking,
she snaps.
15
And maybe if I weren’t busy cleaning the whole house
by myself I might care.
I hear them stomping toward
the stairs.
Are you calling me lazy?
he snaps.
No, I’m calling you
a workaholic.
If you spent
any more time at work
you’d have to pay rent there!
I don’t know how they expect me
to do well in school
if they’re always yel ing
when I’m trying to figure out
my math homework.
16
I snap my textbook shut,
grab my sneakers
and backpack,
and head out the door.
I’m not sure where I’m going.
But I’m not gonna
hang around the house
and listen to them fight all night.
I end up at the movie theater,
just in time to catch
the last show of the night.
It’s one of those romantic
comedies where everyone’s
a mess, but everything works out
anyway.
I wish real life were like that.
17
I wish I knew
that in the end
I’d get the cute guy from school,
the career as a traveling journalist, and the dream house
in the country.
Far
away
from
here.
18
MATH CLASS
Monday I hand in my half-
done geometry homework.
The teacher hands back
last week’s pop quiz.
I only got three out of eight questions right.
I remember working on
homework the night before the quiz.
I also remember being distracted. Because Dad got home late from work.
And Mom started yel ing at him.
And he cal ed her a miserable woman.
I remember taking the quiz,
and as I looked at each question
19
all the formulas left my head and all I could think of
were the insults my parents
had yel ed.
Workaholic ≠ (miserable woman + drunk) x failure As we go over the answers in class,
I see where I made my mistakes.
I wonder if
I would’ve made them
if I hadn’t been distracted
by the yel ing and swearing.
I wonder if they even realize
how distracting it is
to be so worried
that you can’t think straight.
20
THAT KINDA GIRL
Jess says I should be more confident.
She says I should
just ask Dave
to the dance myself.
Because it’s not the 1950s anymore, she says.
I tell her,
I’m not pretty
enough, and anyway
I’m not that kinda girl.
You are so
pretty enough.
And you should learn to
be that kinda girl,
21
she tel s me.
No one ever got
what they wanted
by being shy about it.
I don’t tell her that I’m afraid
that if I become that kinda girl,
I’ll fall in love with someone
and then come to hate them.
I don’t tell her that
as much as I want someone
to love me, I can’t get past
the fact that I’ve seen love
turn to hate so quickly.
22
LATER
I don’t have to
be that kinda girl,
because Dave finds me
the next day,
between geometry and gym.
And he blushes and
mumbles. And asks me out.
And I say,
Yeah, sure, I guess.
I want to smile,
and I want him to know
that I like him
a lot. But I can’t
get myself to say that.
23
It’s just too risky.
We decide to get coffee together
on Saturday.
I’m smiling the rest of the day
because he’s cute, and kind,
and smart.
And maybe I am enough.
And maybe I can be brave
and let him in.
And maybe one day
I will be
that kinda girl.
24
GETTING READY
Saturday comes and
I don’t know if I’m
more nervous or excited.
I’ve never been on any
kind of date before.
I’m not sure
if I should dress up
or go casual.
I mean, it’s just coffee.
But also he’s so cute.
And thinking about him
makes me break into a smile.
25
I finally decide on my favorite jeans, and a T-shirt that
brings out the green in my eyes.
I let my dark curls fall down
around my shoulders.
I brush a little mascara
onto my lashes.
>
And I actually
kinda like the way I look.
I feel more confident
than I think I’ve ever felt.
Dad’s still mad
about my grades.
So I sneak out of the house
quietly, hoping he doesn’t notice.
26
COFFEE
I meet Dave at the coffee shop
around the corner
from my house.
He smiles when I walk in.
We start off
with some awkward
small talk about school.
Then we find out
that we both like riding bikes
in a serious way.
I tell him that I’ve always
wanted to go on a trip,
riding my bike across the country.
27
He lights up,
and tel s me that
sounds like a lot of fun.
Hey, maybe we should
do some bike rides
around the area this summer,
he says.
And then maybe
next summer we can do
something bigger,
go farther away.
Farther away is all I want.
We start planning
where we might go.
He pul s out his phone,
and we look online
for cool bicycle routes.
28
We laugh a lot,
and talk about music,
and how maybe we’ll go
see Drake when he plays
in town over the summer.
And then suddenly it’s hours later.
He has to get home
for his grandparents’
60th wedding anniversary.
I wish we could stay here
and keep talking
until the shop closes,
because it’s just so easy
to talk to him. And when
he’s around it’s hard to be
sad or scared.
29
I still don’t know how to trust my heart.
But I stopped worrying
for a couple hours
and that’s something at least.
I go home, happier
than I’ve been in a long time.
30
THE LETDOWN
All the way up the street
and to my front door
I think about how wel
Dave and I get along.
I think about the way
his dark hair sweeps
across his forehead.
And the little dimple he gets
when he smiles.
I think about his dark brown eyes.
How he looks me straight in the eyes
when I talk. And I feel
like he actually cares about
what I have to say.
31
And then I open
the door to the house,
