Trading Secrets , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Melody Carlson

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135 pages

English

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Description

Back in fifth grade, Micah Knight got an Amish pen pal, and over the years, they've exchanged many letters--and many secrets. At age seventeen, Micah finally has the chance to meet her pen pal face-to-face. The only problem is that because of confusion about her name when the pen pals were assigned, her pen pal was a boy, Zack Miller. And all this time, Micah's never told Zack that she's actually a girl! While she wants nothing more than to experience life on Zack's Amish farm, she's afraid he'll hate her for deceiving him all these years. But she makes up her mind to face the music--and that's where the fun really begins.Bestselling author Melody Carlson brings young adults another fascinating tale of worlds colliding, secrets being revealed, and friendships forming. Teens will love this story of miscommunication and mishaps along the way to the truth.

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	14 octobre 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441246363
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0374€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2014 by Melody Carlson
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www . revellbooks .com
Ebook edition created 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-4636-3
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Praise for My Amish Boyfriend
“Enjoyable and heart-touching read. Carlson really captured the essence of a child caring for a parent as if their roles were reversed. It is an amazing job. She nailed it.”
— The Christian Manifesto , 5/5 rating, 2014 Lime Award Nominee
Praise for A Simple Song
“Carlson hits all the right notes in this wonderful story that grips you from the beginning and does not let go. The imagery and characters are fully developed, and Katrina’s amazement at the conveniences we take for granted is eye-opening and touching. This is the perfect book for all ages to curl up with this summer.”
— RT Book Reviews , 4½ stars, Top Pick
Praise for Double Take
“This smoothly plotted story about seeing life from another’s point of view will leave you feeling good and looking for more books from this creative and talented author.”
— Suzanne Woods Fisher , bestselling author of the Lancaster County Secrets series
“This remarkable novel . . . was refreshing to read . . . with a new twist to the plot—mistaken identities.”
— Marijane Troyer , The Budget
“One important aspect of the book is the message of judging others, which Carlson covers with a light touch that leaves a deep impression. This is an entertaining read, one Carlson fans will undoubtedly appreciate.”
— Christian Library Journal
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Endorsements
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About the Author
Books by Melody Carlson
Back Ads
Back Cover
1
H ow am I supposed to get out of this mess?” I stare glumly at the letter lying open on my best friend’s unmade bed. I came to Lizzie for some helpful advice, or at the very least some sympathy, but now I wonder why I even bothered.
“Just tell him the truth,” Lizzie says for the second time. Her focus has switched from me to her fingernails. Hunched over like a troll, she applies a sleek coat of turquoise polish, then pauses to examine her work as she puffs on them.
“Seriously?” I stand up and wave the neatly written one-page letter in the air with dramatic flare. “Do you not get that Zach is this really sweet and sensitive guy who thinks I’m a—”
“If he’s sweet and sensitive, he should understand.” She looks up at me with a blasé expression.
“Understand?” I begin to pace back and forth across the small space of her cluttered bedroom floor. Why doesn’t she get how serious this is?
“Uh-huh.” Lizzie nods as she stands. She goes over to the mirror above her dresser and starts to primp.
“No, you don’t understand.” I hover behind her, watching impatiently as she brushes her dark caramel-colored hair into place. She recently had it relaxed and it looks really sleek. Much sleeker than my messy curls that haven’t seen a hairbrush since yesterday. The two of us are best friends, but we look nothing alike. While Lizzie’s skin is the color of latte, and her eyes are golden amber, I have brunette hair and dark brown eyes that stand out in stark contrast to my pale Irish complexion. Where she’s delicate and petite, I am tall and athletic.
“Don’t you get this?” I demand. “Zach is absolutely certain that I’m a boy, Lizzie! For more than six years he has completely believed my little myth. This whole time he’s been writing to me—conversing with me like I’m his best friend—like I’m a boy .”
“Okay, I get it. So he thinks you’re a boy.” She reaches for a hot pink tube of mascara, clearly more concerned over her appearance than her best friend’s awkward predicament.
I slump back onto her bed in defeat. “That’s not all,” I mutter hopelessly. “I mean, Zach has really, really trusted me. He’s shared all kinds of stuff with me. It would be so awkward for him to find out . . .” I pause as I realize my mistake of oversharing.
“What kind of ‘stuff’?” Lizzie turns to me with highly arched brows and way too much interest. I have no doubt I’ve said too much.
“Never mind.” I divert my eyes as I refold the letter.
“Come on, Micah.” She eagerly sits back down on the bed next to me. “Tell me what a teenage Amish boy writes about. Please? I’m dying to hear this. What kind of stuff? I mean, I know a little about the Amish, but what exactly does Zach write to you about? Some deep dark Amish secrets?”
“Why don’t you ask your own Amish pen pal for Amish insider information?” I challenge her.
“Very funny.” She folds her arms across her front, glaring at me like she’s enraged even though I know she’s faking it. Just the same, I give it right back to her—engaging in a stare down just like we used to do when we were ten. So mature.
As we silently stare at each other, I remember how Lizzie and her pen pal quit writing each other shortly after our fifth-grade assignment began. In fact, most of the kids in our class never wrote more than a letter or two to our new friends in Holmes County. I’d wager that I’m the only one who’s kept up the correspondence this long. And I’m fairly certain that was only because I was writing to a boy—a boy of about the same age as me. What better way to figure out how a guy’s mind works? Even if he is Amish.
Sure, I realized from the get-go that Zach assumed I was a boy when he selected my letter. A natural conclusion thanks to my name. After all, who names their daughter Micah? It probably hadn’t helped that since I was such a tomboy, my initial letter had been about baseball and bikes and flying with my dad in his single-engine Cessna. But it’s not like I intentionally tried to pass myself off as a boy. In fact, Miss Gunderson had even sent photos with our introductory letters, and I’m sure I wore something pink that day. We later discovered that the Amish teacher had removed all the pictures before letting her students pick a pen pal. I assume that’s because the Amish believe it’s wrong to be photographed. But that’s all water under the bridge now.
“Come on, Micah.” Lizzie breaks our stare down. “Don’t you remember how boring my Amish pen pal was? Her letters were a total snooze. Who could blame me for dropping her?”
“You didn’t really try. You only wrote a few times,” I remind her. “It’s not like you gave the poor girl much of a chance.”
“All Rachel Yoder ever wrote to me about was cooking and sewing and a cat named Muffin.” Lizzie rolls her eyes as she snatches my letter from me. “It was amusing at first, but it got old quick. I’m sure poor Rachel only got more boring.” She eagerly extracts the letter from the envelope. I don’t really care if she reads it. It’s not like Zach wrote anything personal this time. Besides, I’m relieved to finally get her full attention. Maybe she’ll recognize the urgency of my situation and offer some support.
“You never know, your pen pal might’ve changed over the years,” I point out. “Rachel Yoder might be totally fascinating by now.”
“She’s probably married with a baby on her knee.” Lizzie snickers. “Can you imagine being married at seventeen? Although, as I recall, she was a year younger than me. But she could still be married at sixteen. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Or she might just be enjoying the freedom of being a teenager. According to Zach, this is the best time of Amish life. And from what he writes, the teens in his settlement aren’t all that different from us. In fact, I’ve heard that some Amish kids get pretty wild during their rumspringa time. A lot wilder than you or me.”
“I know all about that.” Lizzie waves her hand as she curiously pores over my letter. She’s devouring it as if she expects to uncover some juicy morsel. “I’ve seen the Amish on TV.”
“Yeah, right.” I’m well aware of her addiction to several reality shows.
“You invited him to visit you?” Lizzie points victoriously to a line in the letter. “So why are you surprised that he wants to come? He’s simply taking you up on your offer.”
“I invited him to come up here years ago,” I explain. “We’d only been writing a few months at the time, and Zach was really into airplanes. Since my dad was a pilot, well, I just kind of tossed that out to him.” I let out a long sigh. The truth was that I’d been worried his interest in me was waning. I’d probably been a little desperate and lonely and needy. Zach’s letters have always been a vital part of my life—especially right after my mom died, because it was Zach who helped me to find hope again. Why wouldn’t I want to keep the pen pal relationship going? And Zach’s keen interest in flying seemed like a good lure to keep him on the line.
“Uh-huh.” She gives me a somewhat dubious look as she dangles the letter in front of my nose. “Then how did he happen to know about spring break? You had to have told him about it, Micah.”
“Yeah, I probably mentioned that spring break was coming and that I didn’t have any big plans,” I admit. Why is she grilling me like this? As if it’s my fault. “But honestly, I never asked him to come here during spring break.”
“You’re sure about that? Maybe it was a Freudian slip.” Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Maybe you really wanted him to come see you, Micah.”
“Honestly, Lizzie, when I invited him to come visit, a long time ago, we were both kids