More Than You Can Chew - Softcover

Tokio, Marnelle

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0887766390 ISBN 13: 9780887766398

Verlag: Tundra Books, 2003

Inhaltsangabe

Winner of the Society of School Librarians International’s Best Book Award – Language Arts, Grades 7-12 Novels

Winner of the 2005 White Pine Awards, Fiction category

Selected for inclusion in the Best Books for the Teen Age 2004 List by the New York Public Library

Nominated for Snow Willow Award (The Saskatchewan Young Reader’s Choice Awards)

Nominated for the Canadian Library Association’s 2004 Young Adult Canadian Book Award


More than You Can Chew has been called a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest for young adults.

Marty Black has retreated from a difficult family situation into the area she can best control, her own appetites. She may not be able to control her parents’ behavior, but she can decide what she will and will not eat. Eventually, she stops eating altogether. Marty is close to death when she finally asks for help and finds herself in a psychiatric institution. But recognizing her need for help is only the first tenuous step on a long road to recovery.

Marty’s ability to find a way to live, despite the powerful lure of anorexia, is the core of this fine, insightful novel.

Marnelle Tokio’s semi autobiographical story will resonate with every teenager who faces issues of family, body image, and self-confidence.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Marnelle Tokio was born in St. Catharine’s, Ontario and has been everything from an apprentice thoroughbred jockey to an x-ray technician. She has lived in many places and been interested in writing since she was six. Marnelle has worked at a children’s bookstore for many years and, while not writing, plays with her daughter, dog, and husband in Toronto.

Von der hinteren Coverseite

Winner of the Society of School Librarians International's Best Book Award - Language Arts, Grades 7-12 Novels
Selected for inclusion in the Best Books for the Teen Age 2004 List by the New York Public Library
Nominated for Snow Willow Award (The Saskatchewan Young Reader's Choice Awards)
Nominated for the Canadian Library Association's 2004 Young Adult Canadian Book Award
"More than You Can Chew has been called a "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest for young adults.
Marty Black has retreated from a difficult family situation into the area she can best control, her own appetites. She may not be able to control her parents' behavior, but she can decide what she will and will not eat. Eventually, she stops eating altogether. Marty is close to death when she finally asks for help and finds herself in a psychiatric institution. But recognizing her need for help is only the first tenuous step on a long road to recovery.
Marty's ability to find a way to live, despite the powerful lure of anorexia, is the core of this fine, insightful novel.
Marnelle Tokio's semi autobiographical story will resonate with every teenager who faces issues of family, body image, and self-confidence.

Aus dem Klappentext

Selected for inclusion in the Best Books for the Teen Age 2004 List by the New York Public Library

Nominated for Snow Willow Award (The Saskatchewan Young Reader s Choice Awards)

Nominated for the Canadian Library Association s 2004 Young Adult Canadian Book Award


More than You Can Chew has been called a One Flew Over the Cuckoo s Nest for young adults.

Marty Black has retreated from a difficult family situation into the area she can best control, her own appetites. She may not be able to control her parents behavior, but she can decide what she will and will not eat. Eventually, she stops eating altogether. Marty is close to death when she finally asks for help and finds herself in a psychiatric institution. But recognizing her need for help is only the first tenuous step on a long road to recovery.

Marty s ability to find a way to live, despite the powerful lure of anorexia, is the core of this fine, insightful novel.

Marnelle Tokio s semi autobiographical story will resonate with every teenager who faces issues of family, body image, and self-confidence.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Saturday
3:17 p.m.
Wind ’n’ Sea Beach, San Diego

Clouds scream across the sky, turning the sun on and off like a lightbulb. Yellow. Gray. Yellow. Gray.

Turquoise ocean. Waves of melted glass capture the silhouette of a dolphin bodysurfing.

Sitting in Zack’s car, watching the world through the windshield.

Be cool. Enjoy the view.

Zack touches my hand and releases the hounds. Hormones. Only the “hors” ­aren’t “moaning.” And they ­aren’t just raging. They’re breaking out of blood cells. Crashing through arterial walls. Bouncing off bone. My body a prison, with a riot going on inside. My mind the warden, trying to ignore the outbreak and assure the media that everything is under control. But Zack is a top investigator. He slides his hands up the back of my T-­shirt. Finds the evidence he’s looking for.

“Are you cold?” he says. “I’ll warm you up.” He pulls me across the seat. One hand under my arm and hot like a branding iron on my ribs. Just below. The other hand he puts under the sweaty backs of my knees. His fingers feel like ice. Then Zack lifts me, like I weigh nothing, so I’m sitting sideways on his lap. It’s a great position to watch the beautiful ocean ripple and surge and stroke the sand.

Zack’s tongue and words drift in and out of my ear: “You’re perfect. You know that? I love you. You know that?”

I ­don’t know what to say. ­Don’t want to say anything. Just want to be Said to. Done to.

“I think we should,” he says.

“Should what?” I whisper.

A surfer with fuzzy cigar dreadlocks walks by and pounds his fist on the hood of the car and yells, “GET A ROOM!”

I almost go through the sunroof. He sees that he’s scared me and his hands fly up in that Stop! ­Don’t jump! pose, which causes him to drop his surfboard on the corner of the car. He picks up the board and searches it for dings. Zack is looking at him through the windshield like the guy is an idiot. The surfer sees the look in Zack’s eyes and polishes the car where the board hit it. He gives us a Cheshire grin and a big thumbs-­up. He turns, swings the tail of his board into the grill of the car, and charges down the beach and into the surf.

I thought Zack would be mad. He loves his car – just had it painted.

Zack says, laughing, “I think Einstein is right. We should get a room.” He grabs me and kisses me. Hard. Runs his tongue along my teeth like you run a stick along a fence. Probes the back of my mouth. Finds my molars and sends an electric shock through me like he’s stuck a fork in my filling.

The car is a greenhouse, all windows, and the sun pours in. Sweat on the glass and on the back of my neck and in the corners of Zack’s eyes. Things sprouting with the heat. Fingers and tongues and nipples and I’m sitting right on top of that something that desperately wants to break through the fly of Zack’s jeans.

I-­love-­you’s rain down my neck.

“You’re my angel; I love you here,” he says, and pushes three fingertips into the skin underneath my shoulder blade wings. “You’re my dolphin; I love you here,” and he runs the heel of his hand along the inside of my thigh. “I really love you here,” and he places his whole hand over the left side of my chest.

“You love my heart or my boob?”

“Both.”

I want to open up his chest like a surgeon and climb inside, where it’s warm and messy. “Tell me.”

“I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you. At the football game. With the cast on your leg. I asked my buddy who you were and he said you were the girl who played football on the guys’ team. And I’ve never seen anybody throw so many touchdowns standing behind the fence. You looked so miserable. But now I understand. You’re not a watcher, Marty. You’re a player. Let’s play.”

Zack is wrong. I am a watcher.

***

I had watched him that night. Like everyone else. When he left the alumni section of the bleachers and went to the snack bar for a drink, I watched the way the cheerleaders talked to him and tugged their hair. I saw the way Alan, the president of the spirit club, touched Zack’s hand when he gave him his Coke and how Alan ran his fingertips along Zack’s palm when he handed him his change. The way both the girls and the guys were jockeying for Zack’s pole position. I had watched out of the corner of my eye as Beautiful Zack walked back and stood behind me. I ignored him, while everyone else around us tried to talk to him. When the game ended and even more people tried to get to him, I turned to leave; but someone was standing on my foot with the cast. I fell backward, and Zack caught me before I hit the ground. He scooped me up.

“Are you hurt?” he’d said. He looked scared.

I had a pain in my chest, but I said, “I’m alright.”

“Want a ride home?” He smiled. Perfect teeth.

“Like this?”

“I could carry you, but then I’d have to come back for my car. Why ­don’t we just make one smooth trip, okay?”

“Okay.”

I watched how the crowd pressed out of our way. Looked at the snack bar and saw the lasers of hate shoot from the cheerleaders’ eyes, and what looked like tears in Alan’s. I blew them a little kiss. Those pom-­pom girls who had refused to cheer for me when I made a good play on the field. They ­didn’t like me playing with their boys, even though they thought I was gay. I did have something in common with Alan – I wanted to be carried off the field by Zack. I watched myself from above. Like a dream. And I ­couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Me being carried from the football field by a guy.

***

“You remember that night when you carried me to your car?” I asked.

“Yes. You were my little damsel in distress.”

“The last guy who tried to rescue me got bitten. During a game, a player from the other team stomped on the back of my knee and shredded it with his cleats because a girl had just brought down his quarterback. My coach ran onto the field and picked me up. Not hauled me up by the arm, like he did with the boys. He cradled me and started to walk off the field. All those people watching, congratulating themselves for being right. girls ­shouldn’t play football. The other team head-­butting the guy who took me out. His coach even slapped him on the butt. I told my coach to put me down. He ­wouldn’t listen, so I sank my teeth into his arm. And he dropped me. I limped off by myself.”

Zack looks out his window. “I know. I was at that game. But I ­didn’t know you were you. Never would have guessed that a defensive end would end up my girlfriend.” He turns back to me and narrows his eyes, “Good thing we ­weren’t going out then. I would have killed that guy. I’d kill anyone who hurt you.”

“Would you?”

“With my own hands. I love you that much.”

“Remember when we were outside the after-­the-­game party? The one we never went into? You asked me when I had to be home, and I said about two hours ago. You said you’d better get me home quick because you ­wouldn’t want my mom hating my new boyfriend.”

“I remember.”

“Well, that’s when...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Tundra Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2003
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0887766390
• ISBN 13: 9780887766398
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 240
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar