Because of Anya($5.20Value)

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Ten-year-old girls don’t wear wigs. So why is Anya wearing one? That’s what Keely wants to know. But when Anya’s wig falls off in front of the whole class, Keely realizes what she really wants is to help Anya, even though she’s not sure how—and even though it means she’ll have to do something she’s afraid of: stand up to her friends. As for Anya, she just wants her hair to grow back, but no one can tell her whether it ever will. How can she learn to accept her disease when she can’t even look in the mirror? "A poignant story of discovery." ― School Library Journal "The author's sympathetic but not simplistic insight will engage readers." ― Kirkus Reviews "Haddix's story is straightforward and compassionate without being preachy or maudlin." ― Denver Post & Rocky Mountain News Margaret Peterson Haddix is the author of many critically and popularly acclaimed YA and middle grade novels, including the Children of Exile series, The Missing series, the Under Their Skin series, and the Shadow Children series. A graduate of Miami University (of Ohio), she worked for several years as a reporter for The Indianapolis News . She also taught at the Danville (Illinois) Area Community College. She lives with her family in Columbus, Ohio. Visit her at HaddixBooks.com. Because of Anya By Margaret Peterson Haddix Aladdin Paperbacks Copyright © 2004 Margaret Peterson Haddix All right reserved. ISBN: 9780689869938 Chapter Two "You were practically waving the note at Mrs. Hobson!" Nicole said as they headed out for recess. "No wonder you got caught!" "No, I wasn't!" Keely protested. "It was on my lap!" But had she lifted it up, trying to figure out what Stef was trying to tell her? Tears stung in her eyes, and she angrily blinked them away. She had to be ready. Stef was bound to lecture her again. But Stef turned around and told Nicole, "Shh. Don't talk about it now. Not until we're..." She tilted her head in a signal they all understood. They were going out to the tree to talk. The tree was their spot. It was at the very edge of the playground, past the swings, past the jungle gym, past the baby slides the kindergartners used. It was so far out that sometimes at the beginning of the year the teacher with playground duty had yelled at them, "Hey, where are the four of you going?" Stef had always gone back to explain. Stef knew how to talk to teachers. Now they could walk out to the tree and nobody said anything. And nobody followed. The ground was frozen beneath Keely's feet, but the sun was out and the air was warm. It didn't feel like January. Keely didn't even need her mittens. If Keely hadn't been so stupid as to get caught with that note, she could be enjoying the winter sunshine right now, enjoying being back with her friends, enjoying recess. They reached the tree. Keely leaned against the bark, letting the tree hold her up. "Listen," Stef said, lowering her voice even though they were a long, long way from any of the other kids. "Forget about Keely's mistake. Do any of you know why Anya's wearing a wig?" Keely breathed out a silent sigh of relief. She waited for Nicole or Tory to answer. That was how their friendship went. Stef was in charge. She was the one who had decided when they had all gotten too old for dolls. She was the one who had decided soccer wasn't really very much fun after all. She was the one who had decided glitter gel was stupid. She was the one who usually decided what they were going to play every day at recess. Nicole and Tory were next in line. Sometimes Nicole or Tory could even tell Stef what to do. Just not very often. And then there was Keely. Sometimes she felt like she was just hanging on by her fingertips. Sometimes it seemed like she was just one mistake away from not having any friends. That's why she tried to keep her mouth shut, whenever possible. She didn't want to be like Anya. Did Anya ever have anyone to play with? Nicole shook her blond hair so it bounced against her shoulders. "Maybe Anya thinks she's going to start a new fashion or something," she giggled. Tory ran her hand through her dark hair. "Well, it's not going to catch on. I'd hate wearing a wig," she said. Keely noticed that no one waited for her to answer. "No, no, guys, think," Stef said impatiently. "What if she has to wear a wig? Because her own hair is falling out?" "Eeww," Nicole said, turning up her nose. "No, listen. What if she has cancer? And her hair's falling out because she has to have chemotherapy?" Nobody said anything. The tree's empty branches rattled overhead. Cancer? Keely thought. Cancer? She felt like her heart skipped a beat. "But Anya's just a kid. Like us," Tory said. "Yeah," Stef whispered. "And she might be dying." Keely had a sudden memory of kindergarten. The first day, Anya had held the door of the classroom open for Keely to go in in front of her. Keely could remember what Anya had been wearing that day: a frilly pink dress. And Anya's mom or s