Laurie Halse Anderson
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The New York Times bestselling story of a friendship frozen between life and death
Lia and Cassie are best friends, wintergirls frozen in fragile bodies, competitors in a deadly contest to see who can be the thinnest. But then Cassie suffers the ultimate loss-her life-and Lia is left behind, haunted by her friend's memory and racked with guilt for not being able to help save her. In her most powerfully moving novel since Speak, award-winning author Laurie Halse Anderson explores Lia's struggle, her painful path to recovery, and her desperate attempts to hold on to the most important thing of all: hope.
The final eight minutes march past in silent formation until the timer on her desk dings. “So, can I go to the funeral?” I ask. She reaches for her shoes. “Do you understand why you want to go to the funeral?” “I feel that I need some closure about this.” “And the funeral will provide that?” “I’ve given it a lot of thought.” The clock ticks by two bonus minutes. I roll the hair of the strangers into a ball. “It’s a good idea.” She slips her shoes on and stands up. “But have one of your
Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. 041.00 Dad has been dragging his feet about buying a Christmas tree. Jennifer snags one from a toothless guy selling homegrown Douglas firs out of the back of his pickup. The guy carries it into the house but won’t screw it into the tree stand until she gives him
Take purse. Take key. My heart quivers, cranberry sauce dumped from a can. Step outside. The snow has stopped. The crescent moon hangs high, stars rubbing their hands together, teeth chattering. A glacier wind cuts into the spaces between my ribs and through the tiny cracks in my bones. I don’t have much time. I shuffle toward the office. The door to 113 is open. The lights are on. no. That can’t be. Everything is shut down. Everything is frozen. no. yes. I peek inside.
the nudging and the help. This book would not have been written without her. Psychotherapist Gail Simon has specialized in treating patients with eating disorders in Buckingham, Pennsylvania, for twenty-three years, in addition to working at a residential treatment center for eating disorders for almost two decades. Gail graciously read the manuscript to make sure that Lia’s physical and psychological deterioration were accurately described. I am very grateful for her assistance. It takes a
writing. I trust that he can see the depth of my gratitude when he looks in my eyes. And finally, a long overdue recognition. I was granted a scholarship to Manlius Pebble Hill School in Dewitt, New York, when I was in eighth grade. I am not sure why they gave it to me. I was an underwhelming student who spent most of her time daydreaming in the back row. Somebody, somewhere, must have seen potential in me, but it could have been a clerical error. Whatever the cause, I was given significant