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The Battle of Darcy Lane

Page 12

by Tara Altebrando


  When I got out of the car and closed the door behind me, I waved to Mom and she smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She handed me her cell phone. “I was ready for a new one, and we’re getting rid of the landline. It’s a waste of money, really.”

  I leaned back in through the door to take the phone. “Thanks, Mom.”

  I knew we’d never talk about why she was really getting rid of the landline, why she was really giving me her phone. I wondered if I’d ever know what she and Alyssa’s mom had talked about that night or why my mom had gotten so into the whole Russia showdown, or why she felt the need to write that note to the naked neighbors. Then I wondered whether one day Wendy and I would end up like Mom and Aunt Colleen. Whether we’d look back on all of this and laugh.

  “Hey, Julia.” Peter’s happy face appeared in front of me, and I wondered why everything seemed different for boys, and which of us was luckier. “Who do you have for homeroom?”

  I felt twitchy in my fingers and my heart.

  I felt like I was already, maybe, forgetting.

  Author’s Note

  How to Play Russia

  There is not a lot of evidence out there (on the Internet) that Russia existed as a game, and yet I can assure you that I played it for countless hours during my youth.

  Below are the moves of the game, step by step, based on one lone reference I found on the Web and also on my own memory. I recall playing with a tennis ball, but a small rubber ball will also work.

  If, at any point during play, you drop the ball or miss a clap or a bounce, you must start again at the beginning. The goal is to complete all the moves without making a single mistake.

  Good luck!

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to:

  My editor, Lisa Cheng, for taking a chance on a “quiet” book in an industry that increasingly likes them “loud.” Teresa Bonaddio, for the awesome cover. And the rest of the Running Press Kids team.

  Emily Jenkins, for an early and enthusiastic read.

  My agent, David Dunton, and his daughter Hannah, for cheering Julia’s story on.

  Jennifer (still Millett to me!) Wilbur and her daughter, Claire, for answering random questions about life as (and with) a twelve-year-old.

  Bob, of course.

  Nick, always.

  And an extra special thanks to the two girls who made my life on Albourne Avenue so miserable. Victory is mine.

  About the Author

  Tara Altebrando is the author of several novels for teens, including The Best Night of Your (Pathetic) Life and Dreamland Social Club. She is also the co-author of the young adult novel Roomies with Sara Zarr. She has, in her lifetime, experienced cicada swarms, mean girls, and countless games of Russia. A graduate of Harvard University, she lives with her husband and two daughters in Queens, New York. For more, visit www.taraaltebrando.com and follow her on Twitter @TaraAltebrando.

 

 

 


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