Jess, the Mess
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About this ebook
As feisty Jessica moves to yet another middle school, she struggles to stay out of trouble, while living in constant fear that others will find out her family's dark secrets: Jess's mom is an alcoholic, her dad left them years ago, and most days Jess struggles just to find food to eat.
Convinced that she is the reason her mother drinks, especially since Jess constantly gets into trouble at school, she lives with the daily pain of her mom's explosive behavior, and the accompanying shame.
Befriended by sassy, red-headed Anna and cheerful, encouraging Grace, Jess balances the joy of friendship with the hurt she carries with her.
Will self-proclaimed Jess the Mess open her heart and life to her new friends? What happens when her secrets are revealed? Jess learns that everyone can change, but some change comes with a price.
Charlene Vermeulen
Charlene Vermeulen currently lives with her husband and two rescue dogs in Pinehurst, NC. A life-long educator, Charlene has taught 6th-12th grade English, Language Arts, and Academically Gifted classes, along with summer writing and art camps, and worked as a school administrator for five years before retiring to spoil her grandchildren. She has two precious daughters, Anna and Grace, whose names appear in the first book in the series, Jess the Mess. Other than family and her Christian faith, her passions include reading, writing, drawing, hiking, traveling, photography, time with family, and painfully bad puns.
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Jess, the Mess - Charlene Vermeulen
Charlene Vermeulen
Saguaro Books, LLC
SB
Arizona
Copyright © 2017 Charlene Vermeulen
Printed in the United States of America
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
Reviewers may quote passages for use in periodicals, newspapers, or broadcasts provided credit is given to Jess, the Mess by Charlene Vermeulen and Saguaro Books, LLC.
Saguaro Books, LLC
16201 E. Keymar Dr.
Fountain Hills, AZ 85268
www.saguarobooks.com
––––––––
ISBN: 978-1544184739
Library of Congress Cataloging Number
LCCN: 2017935426
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
Dedication
A thousand years ago, I promised to dedicate my first book to my awesome class of eighth graders at West Lee Middle School in Sanford, NC. Fast forward seventeen years, and I finally finished my first book. Thank you, students from West Lee, as well as the hundreds—if not thousands—of other precious students and teachers, who inspire me daily in my heart, writing, and life. I love you all. Greatest thanks to my best friend and husband, David, for believing in me, and to my two precious daughters, Anna and Grace, for cheering me on. Love and appreciate you. Also, of course, I deeply appreciate the publishers and editors at Saguaro Books for believing in me. Let the adventures begin.
Chapter One
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Jess was a mess. She knew it was true, because that’s what everyone told her. It’s not that she looked so bad. Short auburn curls flip-flopped around her just-round-enough-but-not-too-round face and her eyes were what her grandmother once called sunflower hazel
. At five feet and two and one-quarter inches, Jessica was just the right height for a seventh grader, as far as could be told from all the seventh graders Jess had experienced so far. But she’d missed the first full month of school. Today was her first day at the new school. There might have been several other seventh graders, other than the two boys who sat with her in the principal’s office.
The office door was opened just wide enough to let in a whiff of coffee and the sound of the school secretary’s phone ringing. I’m sorry,
Jessica heard the secretary say, Mr. Peters is tied up right now.
I wish he were tied up right now. Real tight. With a rope that smells like fish guts. Jessica smiles.
Yes,
the secretary continued. Dealing with those kids from the bus incident. I’ll have him come down to your room when he’s through, although from the looks of it, it may take a while.
Rolling her eyes, Jessica sank deeper into the vinyl on her chair and pretended not to look at the two kids across from her. Principal Peters was writing so fast and so hard on the paper in front of him that Jessica almost thought she could see steam coming off his pen. Burn it, baby. Write that referral as fast as you can. The faster you write, the faster I’m outta here.
Miss Burns.
The principal said her name as if it were more of a burp than a title. Miss Burns.
All right, I’ll look at you. Jessica lowered her eyebrows and scowled toward Mr. Peters.
Do you understand, Miss Burns, it is a privilege to ride the bus to school each day? That the little stunt like the one you pulled today not only wasn’t funny, but quite dangerous?
Dangerous? Since when is stinking like poop dangerous?
Wrinkling their noses, the boys in the office kept from making eye contact with Jess.
The principal’s chair creaked as he leaned forward. Do you see the trouble you’ve caused? These young men are here to learn, right? How are they supposed to learn if they’re maliciously attacked on their way to school?
Does he really expect me to answer all those questions? What a lame sermon. Of course, I see the trouble I’ve caused these two precious students. I created that trouble. I am trouble. I am Jess the mess. It’s who I am.
Scraping his chair behind him, Mr. Peters stood and moved around his desk until he was just inches from Jessica’s face.
Gee, he really needs to trim his nose hair.
Look at these two students, Miss Burns.
Jessica sighed and looked at the boys across from her. She couldn’t keep her lips from smiling again. The boys’ hair looked like it had been moussed with snott, but the odor from their heads warned that the mousse was something far worse than nose excrement.
One boy hadn’t looked up since they’d all been brought to the office. Now he raised his eyes to meet Jessica’s. With a start, Jessica realized he’d been crying. For a moment she felt what she imagined must be shame then her attention was taken by the other boy.
We weren’t doin’ nothin’, Mr. Peters. She just reached over her seat and smeared that, that, that...cow dung or whatever... all over us. She had it in her lunch bag.
Actually, it was on my shoe. I didn’t have anything for lunch today. If you call tripping me on my way to my seat nothing, then this school is gonna be just like my last one.
You boys are dismissed. You may use the showers in the gym to remove that...uh...hair dressing. And you,
Mr. Peters growled, Give me your home phone number. Now.
Jessica felt her nostrils go in and out. Here it comes.
I don’t have a home phone number. We don’t have a phone.
She fixed Mr. Peters with her steadiest look.
Then where do your parents work? There must surely be a number there.
Parents? I haven’t seen my dad since I was four and you don’t