A devastating Twitter prank yanks Hannah out of the popular crowd and turns her into the high school’s best bad joke. Determined to finish the year and graduate, Hannah must keep the humiliating details from her impulsive mother—who just might pack up their belongings and move. Again.
Hannah hovers below the radar by submersing herself in a new routine. Post-it notes, Dewey Decimal numbers and carefully planned trips to the library are her refuge. That is, until a persistent new student invades her space. Lucas has complete disregard for Hannah’s cynicism and snark, and he seems to know the bullies who targeted her. Can Hannah trust him, or is he part of another ploy to torment her?
I GRAB THE YELLOW Post-it note with the number scribbled across it and stuff it in the front pocket of my jeans. 914.5. That’s all it says.
Running late, I gallop down the stairs. “I’m leaving!” I shout to no one in particular.
No one in particular doesn’t answer. No one in particular must still be in bed.
And she’s not alone.
I realize this fact as I trip over yet another unfamiliar pair of men’s shoes in the front hall by the door.
I sit alone on the bus as I’ve done every day for the last three months. At first, I was the centre of all gossip. Now, I’m invisible. Old news. Nobody cares enough to give me a second glance. This is a relief.
“I’m not making fun. I’m stating a fact. The Special Ed bus is shorter than the regular bus. It’s not like I called him a retard or something.”
He scowls. “Don’t use that word.”
“I wasn’t.” I scowl back. “I said at least I didn’t call him that. Jesus.”
I roll my eyes at him but he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at a point about two feet above my shoulder.
“I know how it feels, that’s all. To be made fun of. For something you can’t help.”
There’s that vulnerability again. Or is it a weakness? Now I’m intrigued. “Why? What’s your deal?” I ask. I tilt my head, pretending I’m only vaguely interested.
He perches on the arm of the chair across from the one I’ve just vacated. “Dyslexia. Totally screwed me up when I was learning how to read. Had to develop ‘strategies.’” He makes air quotation marks with his fingers. “Kept getting pulled out of class to go to the Spec Ed room. Grade One sucked. Kids called me ‘retarded.’ Teachers called me ‘troubled.’”
Again with the air quotation marks.
“And were you? ‘Troubled,’ I mean.” I mimic his gesture.
He snorts, but he’s not smiling. “Yeah, I was troubled all right. With a capital D.”
I don’t get it. For a second, I don’t get it. Then I realize what he means. People with dyslexia sometimes see letters or words backward.
“That’s funny,” I say, wishing I hadn’t found that funny, and already regretting the compliment.
Giveaway Information: Contest ends December 25, 2015
- Two (2) winners will received a physical copy of Hannah Both Ways by Rosie Greenway (US/Canada)
- Five (5) winners will receive a digital copy of Hannah Both Ways by Rosie Greenway (INT)
Rosie Greenway grew up on the outskirts of Toronto, and continues to live and work in the GTA with her husband and family. After spending her formative years public-school hopping, Rosie attended the University of Toronto, specializing in English literature. A former English teacher, Rosie now finds herself putting into practice the many lessons she used to impart to the students in her class room. While she has often turned to writing as a way to relax and unwind, Hannah Both Ways is her first foray into the world of Young Adult publishing.
When she isn’t writing, Rosie is an avid traveler, armchair film critic, enthusiastic foodie and voracious reader. She is a passionate literacy advocate and one of her greatest achievements is instilling in her daughter the joy of reading.
You can connect with Rosie on Twitter @Rosie_Greenway.