Please, No Zits! & Other Short Stories for LDS Youth

By Anne Bradshaw

"From a New Year's Eve party in Elmer, New Jersey to a prison in Devon, England, Anne Bradshaw weaves tales that will leave youth and adults alike laughing, crying, and best of all thinking. Bradshaw's stories are witty, wise, and filled with wonder. I've found the perfect gift for my nieces and nephews."
~Jeffrey Scott Savage, author, fantasy series, "Farworld."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne Bradshaw
• Release date: Jun 26, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452328201

Anne Bradshaw

Anne Bradshaw, who was born in Wales, grew up in England, and now lives in the USA. When she isn’t glued to the chair typing, or in the kitchen eating delicious healthy stuff, she can be found reading, writing, walking, or taking fun pictures.Anne has seven published books. A feature screenplay (The Ardanea Pendant) she co-authored won first place (fantasy/sci-fi genre) in the 2008 International Family Film Festival.

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Please, No Zits! & Other Short Stories for LDS Youth

Anne Bradshaw

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2010 Anne Bradshaw

This book is also available in print from Anne Bradshaw, and from BYU Bookstore.

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Stories are set in the United States, England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. (Terminologies used are culturally accurate. Explanations at end of book.)

Contents

1 Apple Pie and Chocolate Corners – Reuben’s dad thinks seminary and Reuben are both a waste of time. An apple pie and a goat named Mrs. Nephi bring surprises.

2 Better Fish in the Sea – Suzie is torn between two choices—to please her non-LDS boyfriend or to listen to her parents.

3 Rock Bottom in a Jail Cell – When Alex is put in prison for a drug-related offense, life is as hopeless as it can get . . . then in walks a visitor he doesn’t want to see.

4 Advertised on Her Face – Elder Kalan Ballantyne is home from his mission—only to discover that his girlfriend is engaged to someone else much less worthy.

5 Someteen Going on Umpteen – Kacie sticks her foot in her mouth every time she opens it. And now it looks like Lucas will never speak to her again.

6 Santa’s Helper on a Skate Board – Dan can’t believe what he gets—and doesn’t get—on Christmas morning. And that week, nothing turns out the way he expects.

7 Joseph and His Technicolor Nightmare – Gabe’s Christmas is ruined. And just when he thinks it can’t get any worse . . . it does.

8 You’ll Never Get a Banana Tree – When the cool kid in school faces ruin, support comes in a bizarre way . . . from the Mormon kid, of all people.

9 Darkness at Noonday – Finding a date in a small ward seems impossible for Bryce Norton. But when Asher uses his imagination and creativity, things get mushy.

10 Mountain Nearing – Aaron Veasey gets sucked into a scary service project, and faces a mountain he doesn’t want to climb.

11 Please, No Zits! – Dawn—who has problems with zits, weight, and boys—almost quits trying to fit in . . . until the day of the disaster.

12 Okay to Cheat? – Life is good for Cody Rendyke—until the day of the big math test. What looks like the only way out gets him in bigger trouble than he ever imagined.

13 Beyond the Thorns – Justin does not enjoy serving a mission. Then a beefy Texan boxer pulls punches that put a new spin on things.

14 On Bike-Back – No one knows Keziah is in love with her sister’s boyfriend. A trip down family history lane soon changes that.

15 Slicing Rainbows – Kim falls apart when Ethan leaves for his mission—until a young and gifted pianist enters her life.

16 Mousey or Mighty? – Since Oliver returned from his mission, nothing has been going right. Help comes in the form of an ostrich, worms, a spiky-haired biker, and Gilly.

Word List

Chapter 1

Apple Pie and Chocolate Corners

(Muker Village, Yorkshire, England)

Dad’s voice was loud and curt, bloodshot eyes narrowed, flashing danger. You’re not going to that youth conference, Reuben, and that’s final. His thin, weather-beaten body straightened to its full height, and his mouth clamped in a hard line.

I bit my lip, digging the heel of my boot into the dirt.

And if I hear any more about it, you can tell that Rob lad to stop picking you up for church Wednesdays. You’re slow enough at school without that . . . that . . . seminary stuff taking your time.

He stomped past the hen sheds, muttering to himself. Should never have let you join that church in the first place. Not been the same since. Always trying to change things. He tore down a dead branch overhanging the path, swishing it violently. "As if I haven’t got enough problems without you pestering about a conference. I’m sick of it, do you hear? Sick of it!" He snapped the branch across his knee.

Squawking hens scattered in all directions. One rushed terror-stricken into a pile of loose wire netting. I’d left it there this morning when the school bus arrived before I was ready. Okay, so I was late—same thing. Anyway, I never finished the job properly.

Now look what you’ve done, Dad yelled. Can’t you do anything right? That’s all we need—a hen with a broken wing. He grabbed the screeching hen and marched back toward the house. Get on with the chores, he flung over his shoulder, and keep out of my way.

The twisted, choking feeling in my stomach moved to my throat and stuck there. I hadn’t cried since Mum died in a car accident nine years ago, and I wasn’t about to begin now. We used to live on a farm in Devon back then, but after the funeral we moved north to Muker Village, Yorkshire. It had been so cold here. Seemed like Dad was forever mad at someone for taking Mum, and I was the one who got it every time things went wrong.

I really thought today was a safe time to ask about the youth conference. I’d never been to one, but imagined my sixteenth birthday was important enough for Dad to agree. No such luck. In fact, the only bright moment was getting that card at breakfast. No one ever bothered to send me one before. Come to think of it, no one ever believed in me at all before this new seminary lady moved into the branch. She seemed to understand that I wasn’t as slow as I looked—perhaps because she was an artist, like me.

Dad didn’t care for my drawing. Waste of time, he called it. So I never sketched when he was around, but sometimes he caught me anyway. The other day I had been sure he was down the bottom field fixing fences. I’d noticed a bunch of tiny pansies poking through cracks in the concrete by our goat shed earlier in the week, and waited my chance to draw them in their gentle strength.

That day, I sat near the pansies and drank in the smell of dew-covered grass mixed with fresh hay. Even the whiff of goatskin added something good to the fresh spring air. I was penciling in lines of shape and shadow when Dad’s furious roar sent my papers flying.

Can’t leave you alone for ten minutes without you letting me down. His muddy boot slammed into the upturned page. Now get up. If you’ve no jobs and your schoolwork’s finished, then at least turn your hand to something useful.

I grabbed the ruined work and trudged to my room. My thoughts were not worthy ones. It was all very well learning how to handle these things in church, but when it came to real life . . . First, it was hard remembering the feeling I should be having, and then it was even harder making it happen. How was I supposed to feel friendly and loving when someone shot evil words at me? There must be a secret to it, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to find out.

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stay around here any longer. Maybe Dad’s brother down in Portsmouth would take me in—though sharing the Church with him would be even more difficult than sharing it with Dad.

By the time Wednesday came, I’d done some thinking. I’d kept out of Dad’s way for days, and almost decided to pack my bags the following Friday—Dad’s night at the pub. I’d also given in to the idea that I ought to attend seminary one last time, if only to thank Sister Wilson for the card.

I edged my way into the back row. I would miss this crowd—especially Katie, third row from the front. Her smile seemed sweeter for me than for anyone else. Pity I wouldn’t get to know her better.

The lesson didn’t start out too exciting—all that talk about reaching the highest degree of glory. My mind switched off when those Sunday words began. Other things were on my mind—like working out a different way to milk the goat. It was all this growing that was the problem. My head used to rest comfy on the bulge of the goat’s stomach, and I milked with my eyes shut, dreaming. But now, my head poked above her bony back, and my chin didn’t rest easy on that ridged spine of hers.

Sister Wilson was going on a bit. Her long black hair swung, glinting in the sunlight as she moved. I leaned back, half following the words and enjoying the expressions crisscrossing her face.

Then, all of a sudden, she produced this piece of pie, oozing bubbly juice, and thick with chunky apple piled between covers of crumbling pastry. And there was a dollop of cream on top.

Whatever was she planning to do with that? I sniffed the sweet cinnamon smell. There wasn’t enough for us all. I glanced at the others. All eyes opened wide. They were definitely paying attention.

I’m about to give this to one student, Sister Wilson said. Let me see now . . . Reuben? Looks like all that farm work is stretching you fast. I’m sure your stomach could manage this pie

Had I lucked out or what? I was sure she’d give it to Rob. He was the smart lad, the one whose hand flew up at every question and who knew every scripture the week before we were asked to learn it. It was his mum who sent the Elders our way a couple of years ago.

If not him, then surely Sarah? Sarah did everything right. Her work was always handed in on time.

But me? I didn’t need asking twice. That pie disappeared faster than corn in a henhouse. And I felt twenty-two eyes watching every mouthful. I sat back, rubbing my stomach. She was right—it had stretched lately.

Then she asked a weird question. How do the rest of you feel at this moment?

I mean, how did she expect them to feel? Sick, I should think. Like they’d been cheated out of something amazing. At least, that’s what Rob said, and the others nodded. They weren’t too cheerful.

Good, Sister Wilson said. "Remember that feeling every time