Redemption by Stacey Lannert Read Free Book Online

hear it, but my mom wasn’t intimidated.
    She said, “I’m not going to punish Stacey for standing up for herself.”
    His parents were hot, but there wasn’t much they could do. They hadn’t come looking for a fight; they just wanted to make sure I got scolded. And I didn’t.
    Whew .
    Mom went on to tell Butch’s mom: “George says your child picks on Stacey all the time. I’m proud of her this time.” She gave me a little squeeze—a half hug—and I beamed. I couldn’t help but smile and look up at her gratefully. I felt strong and brave and thankful. Both of my parents were proud of me.
    When we walked back into the house my new nickname was born, “There’s my Little Tiger. Come give me a hug,” Daddy said.
    I ran into my father’s arms.
    ———
    During the summer of that year I had another “fight,” but this time it was with a girl. Her name was Kendra, and she was horrible. She was big and mean, and she called me names like butt face. I knew she wanted to fight me. This was bad. I ran into our house looking for backup. Maybe Christy could help me—she was especially feisty. Or at the very least, my parents might be able to tell me what I should do. It turned out that Christy was out with Mom, but at least I found my daddy. He was sleeping on the couch. I thought it would be okay to wake him up because Kendra’s desire to whip my butt was important.
    I shook him frantically.
    “This girl outside says she’s going to beat me up.” I was panting and scared. I hadn’t meant to start stuff with her—that’s the kind of thing my sister did—but I didn’t want to be a soft little flower petal either. I wanted Kendra off my back.
    “Go fight her,” he told me, still groggy. He seemed amused. I did not think this was funny.
    “I can’t do that,” I said. I thought, Do I hit her or slap her or kick her ? I had no clue, but none of the options sounded like fun to me. I did know how to mouth off, though, and that’s exactly what had gotten me into hot water in the first place.
    “Throw something at her, Tiger,” he said as he rolled off the couch. I followed him into the kitchen where he handed me an egg.
    I went back outside and threw that egg right at her—or somewhere in her vicinity. I thought I had been cool and tough, but actually, the egg had lobbed through the air like a badminton birdie. I totally missed Kendra, but I was proud of my effort. The only bad thing was, she was even more enraged. I decided it was best to run inside and hide.
    A few minutes later, Kendra’s dad came over, yelling as he knocked on our door. Gearing up for a fight of his own, my dad talked tough as he stalked to the front door. He told me to stay out of sight. I hid around the corner, expecting things to get ugly fast. To my surprise, though, he backed down quickly, apologized for the incident, and put on his charm. He talked Kendra’s dad down, and they left our lawn. When I asked him why he didn’t fight, he told me Kendra’s father was the assistant coach for St. Louis’ football team. The man was very big, kind of like Kendra.
    “Can I still be a tiger even though I lost?” I asked.
    My dad answered, “There is one thing I have learned from the Mizzou Tigers, kid. Sometimes you may lose, but in your heart you are still a Tiger. You, Stacey, have the heart of a tiger.” I think my dad and I both felt whipped, but we felt whipped together. We were a team, and that made everything okay.

The First Cracks
    truly believed we had an idyllic life in Manchester. We were happy, and I felt secure. I barely noticed the tiny cracks starting to show in the foundation of my family.
    The first small break came when a police officer delivered my father to the front door. My father was boyish and happy even though he had just wrapped his car around a tree on a road we called Dead Man’s Curve. He made a joke out of the crash.
    He said, “A banana tree jumped right out in front of me. Good thing my car was