Tears of a Tiger by Sharon M. Draper Page B

know that time heals all wounds, and that you’re young and strong and resilient. You’ll bounce back from this. Just like that time, when you were nine, you survived, and you emerged from that pool a stronger and wiser person. It will happen again. You’ll see. My headache is getting worse. Let’s talk some more in the morning. Good-night, Andy.
    â€”Good-night, Mom.
    She doesn’t understand that this time there’s no one to pull me out…. I bet her headache is nothin’ compared to mine. Maybe I should call that Carrothers dude. Naw, I can handle this. I don’t need Keisha. She was wastin’ my time anyway. If I could just shake off the fuzziness I feel. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I feel like the world is closin’ in on me. I’m drowning again, only this time, Mom, I’m in an ocean….
    Naw, I can handle it. I can handle it.

“Girl, Let Me Tell You!”
Rhonda’s Second Letter to Saundra
    APRIL 1
    April 1
    Dear Saundra,
    Guess what! Andy and Keisha broke up the other night! Ooh, girl, you should have been there! It was at the Talent Show. Andy was Master of Ceremonies, and he was dealing! It was really live! The music was loud and the teachers were all lined up in the back of the auditorium, frowning, so you know it was good.
    He seemed like he was having a good time. He’s been really depressed lately—I guess because of the accident—but last night he was acting really silly. He had us cracking up! He did this striptease, where he took off his coat, and his shirt, and was about to unzip his pants. Mrs. Jawes was halfway down the aisle, but the song stopped. We was dying laughing.
    Then, for some reason that I’m not really sure of, Andy and Keisha started fighting backstage. She was supposed to sing that new song by Whitney Houston—I forget the name—and dedicate it to Andy. It was going to be a surprise for him, you know, to make him feel good about himself. She and I had planned the whole thing.
    But she never even went on. She stormed out of backstage and went home. Then Andy came out on stage and announced, almost in tears, that Keisha’s act was canceled. I got to give him credit—he did finish the show, but it was no fun after that. All he did was read the names of each group and then go backstage and sit down.
    I called Keisha as soon as I got home and asked her what had happened. She told me that she was tired of holding his hand and nursing him through his temper tantrums and crying spells. She said she was glad it was over finally. She didn’t have the nerve to break up with him before this. I don’t know what Andy is going to do now. She told him they could still be friends, but Andy needs more than that. I feel sorry for him, but I side with Keisha—she ain’t no shrink. That dude needs help.
    Me and Tyrone are still cool. I wish you could see the dress I got for the Prom. He will just die! when he sees me. Ooowee! That boy turns me on! Gotta run. I’ll write again when I can.
    Love,
Rhonda

Slipping Away
Andy and the
Coach at School
    APRIL 2
    â€”Hey, Andy. I haven’t seen you since basketball season ended. How’ve you been?
    â€”Oh, just great, Coach Ripley. My grades are up. Me and Keisha are really tight. I got my act together; I’m even lookin’ at colleges for next year.
    â€”That’s good to hear, Andy. I’m so glad you got over that bout of depression you had a couple of months back. That was a rough time for you. It will always be difficult to deal with, Andy, but taking one day at a time, with a positive attitude, is the only way to do it. Speaking of colleges, I do have a little bad news for you, however.
    â€”What’s that?
    â€”Well, a couple of days ago some basketball scouts were here from Ohio State and Michigan State—friends of mine from college—and they were looking for you.
    â€”Me?
    â€”Yes, you. I had told them