Amber Brown Wants Extra Credit by Paula Danziger Read Free Book Online

of extra expenses.”
    “Maybe you’d have more money if you weren’t taking strangers to Euro Disney.”
    “Amber, don’t be silly,” he says.
    I hate to be told that I’m being silly when I tell him how I feel.
    “Look. I’ve got to be going now. Mom and I are in the middle of making brownieswith her friend Max. He took me shopping yesterday. We’re all having so much fun.”
    There’s silence at the other end.
    I continue. “In a couple of weeks, there’s going to be a carnival at school. I’m probably going to be very busy going to that with Mom and Max. You’ll probably be very busy doing something with Judith and her little dweeb . . . . so if you don’t call, it’ll be okay.”
    “Amber.” He raises his voice. “Stop this. Stop it right now. Don’t be angry. Be reasonable. I only mentioned Judith because I want you to know about my life . . . so that we can stay close. I’m sorry if I’ve done this the wrong way.”
    “You could have asked about my schoolwork,” I say. “Actually, I’ve been getting into trouble at school, not doing my schoolwork.”
    There’s silence at the other end for a minute, and then he says, “Why didn’t yourmother call me to talk about this?”
    “She’s handling it,” I lie. “She didn’t have to spend her money on a long-distance phone call. And anyway, she talks to Max about stuff like that now.”
    “Amber, when we’ve finished talking, I want to speak to your mother.”
    “She and Max are watching that the brownies don’t burn. And I’ve got to go back now and help them. Well, it’s been nice talking to you.”
    I hang up the phone.

    I hang up the phone before we even have our kissing contest, which we always have at the end of a call. That’s where we make kissing sounds into the phone until one of us gets tired and quits and the other one wins.
    No kissing contest this time . . . . . no winners.
    I can feel myself start to cry.
    The phone rings.
    I run upstairs.

Chapter
Sixteen

    My Dad Book. . . .
    I open the top drawer of my dresser, take it out, and sit down on my bed to think about the best ways to destroy it.
    I could feed it into the garbage disposal.
    I could take each picture out of the book and rip it into tiny, tiny, minuscule pieces.
    I could take a picture of him and add drawings to it of what I think Judith and the little dweeb look like . . . and then I can rip it into tiny, tiny, minuscule pieces.
    I could blow my nose on some of thepictures. . . . put a little snot across my father’s face.
    I could . . . . . . . . . . . . . . but I can’t.
    I don’t want to destroy my Dad Book.
    Opening it, I look at some of the pictures . . . . . . . the time my dad and I won the father-daughter race at my school. I wonder who’s going to win it this year.
    Maybe they’ll have a mother’s boyfriend—daughter race this year and Max and I can win it.
    Max.
    I don’t know what to think about Max either.
    I don’t know why everything had to become so complicated.
    There’s a knock on the door.
    It’s my mother.
    I know.
    Now’s the time for the mother-daughter talk . . . how it’s not easy for any of us. . . . . how my parents have to make new lives . . . how we all have to try to be flexible and understanding . . . . how while they don’t love each other, they’ll always love me.
    I don’t say anything.
    There’s another knock on the door, and then my mother walks in and sits down with me on my bed.
    “I know . . . . . . you love me . . . . you have to make a new life . . . . . Max is a wonderful person . . . . . . you and Dad may hate each other’s guts but you’ll always love me.” I look at her.
    “Well, I guess that’s it.” My mother stands up.
    She sits down again. “No. Actually, there is more. Do you want to say it . . . or should I say the rest of things that need to be said . . . . . and need to be done?”
    “I