Hartley had been much grouchier than usual lately. After she and Nora had had a particularly heated argument one afternoon, Sophie found her mother in the family room, pacing back and forth and muttering, âBe the rock . . . Be the rock . . .â
âWhat rock?â Sophie asked.
âMothers are meant to be the rock their children build their lives on,â Mrs. Hartley said grimly. âOn days like this, I feel more like sand.â
Now, as if on cue, Sophie heard the bathroom door open and Nora shout, âThad, if you use my deodorant one more time, Iâm going to kill you!â as she stomped past Sophieâs door on her way back up to the attic. Sophie finished tying her shoes and stood up. If she couldnât avoid fourteen entirely (and the only way to do it that sheâd come up with was both painful and permanent), she needed to start practicing what not to get annoyed about, right away.
She went over to her art table to take a last- minute look at the collage she was making. Her class had learned how to make collages. Sophie loved cutting pictures out of magazines and words out of newspapers, and collecting anything that grabbed her attention when she was outside, to put on them. Some kids laughed at how Sophieâs collages had things sticking out, but she liked them that way.
They were interesting.
She was working on a collage for Alice now. Alice had fallen in love with tie-dyeing a few months earlier, after her mother had bought her a kit. She had tie-dyed T-shirts and belts and hats with different-colored swirls and stripes. She had made an artist apron for Sophie and tie-dyed swirls in different colors all over it. Sophie had based her collage for Alice on tie-dyeing and pasted on color swatches and photographs and all kinds of other things. She had found a small spring, painted it blue, and pasted that on to represent a swirl.
All she needed now was a photograph of Alice to put in the middle. Or maybe a picture of Alice with her and Jenna.
When Sophie heard Thad go downstairs, she realized she was late and quickly checked herself in the mirror on her closet door. Her hair looked ratty in the back, even for her. Sheâd neglected to take out her ponytail before she went to bed last night. Now a piece of the yellow yarn sheâd used in her collage was tangled up in it.
Sophie picked up her hairbrush and then stopped.
Nope,
she thought firmly, putting it back down. Not worrying about hair was number one on her list. There had to be a positive way of looking at the snarled mess on the back of her head.
She studied it critically from several angles.
If she used her imagination, the mess looked a bit like the birdâs nest John had found last summer and kept on his bookshelf.
Cool.
If she could find a real feather on the way to school, her hair would look exactly like a nest. And since hers didnât have a crushed egg in it, she didnât have to worry it was going to smell bad, either.
Sophie picked up her kitten, Patsy, from where she was sleeping on the bed, and went down to breakfast.
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About the Author
Â
S TEPHANIE G REENE is the author of close to two dozen books for children, including picture books, chapter books, and middle-grade novels. Her Clarion titles include the Owen Foote books and the first three books about Sophie Hartley. The recipient of the MFA degree in writing for children and young adults from Vermont College, Ms. Greene lives in Durham, North Carolina, with her husband.
âWhat rock?â Sophie asked.
âMothers are meant to be the rock their children build their lives on,â Mrs. Hartley said grimly. âOn days like this, I feel more like sand.â
Now, as if on cue, Sophie heard the bathroom door open and Nora shout, âThad, if you use my deodorant one more time, Iâm going to kill you!â as she stomped past Sophieâs door on her way back up to the attic. Sophie finished tying her shoes and stood up. If she couldnât avoid fourteen entirely (and the only way to do it that sheâd come up with was both painful and permanent), she needed to start practicing what not to get annoyed about, right away.
She went over to her art table to take a last- minute look at the collage she was making. Her class had learned how to make collages. Sophie loved cutting pictures out of magazines and words out of newspapers, and collecting anything that grabbed her attention when she was outside, to put on them. Some kids laughed at how Sophieâs collages had things sticking out, but she liked them that way.
They were interesting.
She was working on a collage for Alice now. Alice had fallen in love with tie-dyeing a few months earlier, after her mother had bought her a kit. She had tie-dyed T-shirts and belts and hats with different-colored swirls and stripes. She had made an artist apron for Sophie and tie-dyed swirls in different colors all over it. Sophie had based her collage for Alice on tie-dyeing and pasted on color swatches and photographs and all kinds of other things. She had found a small spring, painted it blue, and pasted that on to represent a swirl.
All she needed now was a photograph of Alice to put in the middle. Or maybe a picture of Alice with her and Jenna.
When Sophie heard Thad go downstairs, she realized she was late and quickly checked herself in the mirror on her closet door. Her hair looked ratty in the back, even for her. Sheâd neglected to take out her ponytail before she went to bed last night. Now a piece of the yellow yarn sheâd used in her collage was tangled up in it.
Sophie picked up her hairbrush and then stopped.
Nope,
she thought firmly, putting it back down. Not worrying about hair was number one on her list. There had to be a positive way of looking at the snarled mess on the back of her head.
She studied it critically from several angles.
If she used her imagination, the mess looked a bit like the birdâs nest John had found last summer and kept on his bookshelf.
Cool.
If she could find a real feather on the way to school, her hair would look exactly like a nest. And since hers didnât have a crushed egg in it, she didnât have to worry it was going to smell bad, either.
Sophie picked up her kitten, Patsy, from where she was sleeping on the bed, and went down to breakfast.
Buy the Book
Visit www.hmhco.com or your favorite retailer to purchase the book in its entirety.
Â
About the Author
Â
S TEPHANIE G REENE is the author of close to two dozen books for children, including picture books, chapter books, and middle-grade novels. Her Clarion titles include the Owen Foote books and the first three books about Sophie Hartley. The recipient of the MFA degree in writing for children and young adults from Vermont College, Ms. Greene lives in Durham, North Carolina, with her husband.
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